The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 2

** Poppy’s POV **

Alaric moves first, quicker now, cutting across the courtyard toward a stairwell. He takes the steps two at a time, leading us up and through an alleyway that spits us out onto a different street. Bastian stays close at my back, like a silent, brooding shadow. When we reach the corner, Alaric pauses and glances behind us, his lips twitching into a smirk. “They missed the turn.”

My heart hammers. “How do you know?”

He taps his temple. “Instinct.”

“Or ego,” Bastian grumbles under his breath.

Alaric ignores him and grabs my hand, properly this time, pulling me forward. Heat floods my palm, my breath stutters, and I almost stop walking. Alaric doesn’t look back at me, but his grip tightens slightly, as if he felt it too.

We weave through people on the street before slipping into a small convenience shop and out the other side through a door marked STAFF ONLY, as if he’s done this before.

I stare. “Do you just… break rules for fun?”

Alaric flashes me a grin over his shoulder. “Only the boring ones.

“We are absolutely getting banned from half this town after this,” Bastian huffs.

We emerge onto the street beside the bus station. The sight of it makes me relax for the first time all day. We’re almost there. Alaric slows his pace, finally letting go of my hand. The absence is immediate, cold, and extremely annoying.

Bastian scans the people milling about, his eyes sharp. “They’re still coming.’ ”

My pulse spikes again. “How much time?”

Alaric checks the departure board. “Five minutes.”

I swallow. Five minutes feels like five years. Alaric turns back to me, stepping close again, lowering his voice so the whole world can’t hear.

“If you don’t want to be followed,” he says softly, “don’t hesitate when they appear. Get on the bus. Don’t look back.”

I force a smirk. “You’re actually pretty bossy, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “I prefer practical.”

Bastian’s eyes flick between us, his expression unreadable. Then the bus pulls in, and my heart leaps. The doors open with a hiss, and just as I step forward, Alaric wraps his fingers around my wrist; he’s gentle, but firm enough to stop me.

“Wait,” he says.

I turn, my breath catching as he holds my gaze with a seriousness that wipes away the mischief that was there just moments ago.

“Give me your number.”

My stomach flips.

“Why?” I ask, even though I already know.

Because he wants to find me, and because I’m a mystery he doesn’t want to let go of yet, a puzzle he needs to solve. Yeah, me too, buddy.

Bastian’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing. Alaric’s voice drops into a whisper. “In case you need help.’

I should say no. I should run, but the earnestness in his eyes makes me pause. I glance back at my bus; there are people boarding already.

I turn back to Alaric and nod, holding out my hand for his phone. His eyes widen in surprise for a split second before he blinks and digs into his jeans pocket, pulling his phone out and handing it to me.

I take it, raising a brow at the screensaver. Of course it’s a wolf, a big white one. I want to ask who it is, but there’s no time, and I don’t want him to think I’m interested in him or his life, because I’m not. I’m just nosey.

I open the contacts and click to add a new one, my thumbs moving fast. I read the number aloud as I type digits that look right, but they aren’t. A tiny, petty act of control.

Ahead of me is a new life, or maybe an old one, depending on how you look at it. Wolves, expectations, and two mates I walked away from without looking back. Jake’s steady, grounding presence. Leo’s heat and barely restrained intensity. The weight of their bond still sitting in my chest like something unfinished. Like something waiting. I swallow.

When I see them again, there won’t be any more pretending I’m just passing through. No more cool detachment. No more playing at independence while the world rearranges itself around me.

If I go back… I go back as theirs. As a werewolf’s mate. As part of something ancient and binding and impossible to outrun.

The word mate curls around me, equal parts promise and prison. I close my eyes briefly and inhale. I’m not afraid of them. I’m afraid of what happens when I stop fighting it.

My palm tingles, and I glance down at it, annoyed that the memory of Alaric’s grip is still there. Warm, solid, and simple. “In case you need help.” His words echo through my mind, and I almost laugh.

I don’t need help; I need distance. I need clarity, and I need to walk into that pack knowing I chose it, not because destiny cornered me.

I picture Alaric pulling out his phone later. Frowning when the call doesn’t connect. Maybe trying again and maybe smirking when he realises what I did. He didn’t look like someone who gives up easily. That thought shouldn’t make my pulse kick up a notch.

I pull my own phone from my bag and stare at the blank screen. For a reckless second, I consider asking my coworker to get me his number, but that would be stupid.

The bus hums steadily beneath me, carrying me closer with every mile. The sky outside dims into evening. I press my fingers to the glass again.

These might be my last moments of being just Poppy. Not someone’s mate or someone’s responsibility. Not the crazy coffee girl that everyone tiptoes around. Just me, free and untethered, for now.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I look down at the screen, an unknown number. I freeze. It can’t be him; I gave him the wrong one, I’m sure of it. I take a breath and almost laugh at myself; it’s probably just a sales call. I ignore it. Letting it ring out. Pretending I didn’t see it. Then a message notification pops up. I open the message and read the two words.

‘Nice try.’

My heart slams against my ribs. I look up instinctively, scanning the darkening road behind us as if I’ll somehow see him there, keeping pace with the bus, which is impossible. Or is it? Wolves can move pretty fast; I’ve seen it.

That thought should fill me with dread, and yet, a slow smile spreads across my face, equal parts thrill and nerves. Maybe I didn’t get away after all.