Chapter 7
The night air was cold, biting against Felicia’s skin as she trudged toward the pack house described by Alpha Magnus.
Her legs ached, and her heart raced after narrowly escaping a group of rogues earlier. She clutched her bag tightly, her breath coming in short gasps.
Just when she thought she was safe, the sound of growls echoed through the forest. Her stomach dropped. They had found her.
“No, not again,” she muttered, breaking into a desperate run. The pack house lights glimmered faintly in the distance, her only beacon of hope.
The growls grew louder, closer, as her legs gave out beneath her. She hit the ground hard, her palms scraping against rocks and dirt. Felicia rolled onto her back, eyes wide as shadows emerged from the trees.
She shut her eyes tight, bracing for the end. The sharp sound of a blade slicing through the air made her flinch, followed by pained yelps and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground.
“Hey,” a deep voice said.
Felicia’s eyes snapped open. A tall man stood above her, his cutlass dripping with blood.
His presence was commanding, his dark eyes scanning her as though assessing whether she was a threat. She scrambled back, her instincts screaming that he could be one of them.
“What are you doing in our pack?” he asked, his voice sharp and authoritative.
Her mind raced. Our pack?
Relief flooded her as she realized he wasn’t a rogue. With trembling hands, she fumbled for the envelope Alpha Magnus had given her and extended it toward him.
“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her.
“From… Alpha Magnus,” she managed to whisper.
The man tore it open, his eyes darting across the contents. His stern expression softened into something unreadable before he looked back at her.
“Guards!” he barked.
Two men emerged from the shadows almost instantly.
“Carry her in,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Felicia blinked in surprise as the guards gently helped her to her feet.
“Wait—” she started, but the man cut her off.
“You’ll be taken care of. You’re safe now.”
Inside the pack house, Felicia was overwhelmed by the warmth and hospitality.
Maids hurried to clean her up, offering her fresh clothes and food. She hesitated at first, unsure if this kindness was genuine, but hunger soon won over her doubts.
She ate ravenously, the warm stew soothing her frazzled nerves. As she finished, the man from earlier entered the dining hall. His presence seemed to fill the room, and Felicia quickly stood, bowing her head.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice still shaky. “Thank you for… accepting me in your pack.”
The man crossed his arms, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not my pack.”
Felicia looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”
“It’s our pack,” he said simply.
Her brows furrowed. “Our pack?”
He nodded. “You are my sister.”
The spoon clattered from her hand, her jaw dropping in disbelief. “Sister?”
