The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 156

156

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Chapter 156

**Paige’s POV **

Light spills through the kitchen window, the smell of fresh coffee in the air. Poppy’s still sitting at the counter, a second cup of coffee cradled in her hands. Jaxon’s curled against me, finally wide awake and humming to himself as he plays with the edge of his blanket.

My gaze drifts down to the blanket in his lap. The wool is thick, the pattern uneven and mismatched in a way that makes me think it was made with love rather than skill. I run a

hand over it. It’s soft, the colour a faded blue with thin silver strands.

“Where did you get this, baby?”

Jaxon blinks up at me. “My Nanna made it,” he says.

Poppy’s head lifts instantly, her brow creasing. Her eyes meet mine in silent question.

I shrug, equally confused. “Your Nanna?” I ask gently. “Which Nanna?”

He frowns, thinking hard. “The one from the dreams.”

Poppy’s breath catches, but I keep my tone soft. “Oh, yeah? And where did you get the

blanket?”

He glances down at it. “Daddy gave it to me.”

The words make something in my chest stutter. I exchange another look with Poppy, her worry mirroring mine, but I smile and brush a curl of hair from Jax’s forehead. “That’s nice of him,” I say quietly. “It’s beautiful.”

He nods, already folding the blanket into a messy bundle against his chest.

I don’t push it further. Whatever he means, I’ll ask Rye about it later.

Poppy doesn’t say anything either, though I can tell she’s turning it over in her mind. She never misses a thing.

Leo appears at the door then, filling it effortlessly with his broad frame. His dark eyes find Poppy first, and the small smile that pulls at his lips makes my heart twist with quiet

amusement.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Are you ready?”

Poppy blinks. “For what?”

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“Jake called. He needs help sorting through a delivery at the clinic. He said something about half the supplies being mislabeled again. Figured you might want to come lend him your

brain.”

Her cheeks flush, and she sets her cup down quickly. “Oh. Right, yes. I can do that.”

Leo’s smile grows, though it’s still a little shy. “I’ll walk with you.”

I raise an eyebrow, not missing this opportunity for some payback. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Poppy narrows her eyes at me but can’t hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. “It’s work, Paige.”

“Sure it is,” I tease.

She swats at me as she grabs her jacket, but there’s laughter in her eyes again, the same spark she’s had ever since we were kids. The one that says she’s happy.

Leo waits patiently by the door as she tugs her boots on.

“You’ll call if you need me?” She asks before she leaves.

“Always,” I promise.

When they’re gone, the house feels bigger, but not empty. Just quiet again. Jaxon looks up at me from where he’s perched on the counter. “Can we make pancakes now?”

“Pancakes it is,” I say, ruffling his messy hair. “Grab the bowl.”

He scrambles down eagerly, dragging a chair across the kitchen floor to reach the cupboard.

I can’t help but smile at his determination. He’s getting taller every day, braver too, and simple

moments like this feel like a gift.

“Flour, eggs, milk,” I list, setting them out in a neat line.

He nods like he’s memorising a secret recipe. “And sugar, and chocolate chips.”

I laugh. “Fine, but you have to have some fruit too.”

“Strawberries and banana,” he grins.

We work together to measure out and mix the ingredients. He talks the whole time, about a dream he had, about how he thinks Uncle Callen would make a great firefighter because he’s “already loud and strong,” and about how Poppy speaks differently when Leo’s around.

By the time the first pancake hits the pan, sunlight is pouring through the window in thick

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golden beams that warm my skin. I hum softly as I pour the next batch of batter, lost in the rhythm of it, the sizzle, the smell, Jax’s happy humming beside me.

Then it happens. The air changes. It’s subtle at first, a faint hum under my skin, the same pulse I felt at the creek. My hand pauses mid–motion, the ladle dripping batter onto the kitchen side. Jaxon doesn’t notice. He’s too busy lining up plates like a miniature chef.

“Okay, baby, be careful with the…” The words catch in my throat.

A soft glow blooms beneath my skin, pale gold at first, then deepening to silver around the edges. The same gold–silver light that shimmered through the creek.

“Not again,” I whisper under my breath.

“Mum?” Jaxon looks up, eyes wide. “You’re shiny.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I force a smile, even as my pulse spikes. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not. The hum grows louder, spreading through my chest like wildfire. The air around me thickens, vibrating faintly. The spoon slips from my fingers, clattering onto the floor, and

the smell of warm metal fills the air.

Jaxon takes a step closer, looking worried. “Mum?”

“Stay back,” I say gently, holding out a trembling hand. The glow brightens, flickering like sunlight through water. My heart races. “It’s okay, baby. I just need…”

The light bursts outward. It’s not violent… it’s beautiful. A slow wave of shimmering silver and gold sweeps across the kitchen, wrapping around the furniture like mist. The pancakes lift slightly from the pan, hovering for a heartbeat before settling again. Dust looks like it turns to glitter in the air.

The hum in my chest steadies, becoming something deeper. Then, just as suddenly, it fades.

I grip the counter, chest heaving. The last traces of light shimmer faintly across my skin before sinking back beneath the surface. Jaxon is still staring at me with wide, amazed eyes.

“Mum… are you a wizard?”

I swallow hard. “No,” I whisper. “I don’t think so.”

Before I can say anything else, the front door slams open.

“Paige?” Ryder’s voice cuts through the air first, sharp and controlled, but laced with panic.

“I’m okay!” I call back, louder than I mean to.

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Footsteps thunder on the porch. Ryder’s the first to reach me, his eyes scanning me and Jax for injuries before he even breathes. Callen, Parker, and Remy spill in behind him, all alert and tense, their wolves bristling beneath their skin.

Ryder cups my face immediately, his eyes darting between mine. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I manage. “I was just cooking. And then…” I glance around at the faint shimmer still lingering in the air. “That.”

Callen steps closer, scanning the counters, the stove, the faint scorch mark on the metal. “No sign of damage,” he mutters, frowning. “Just… light.”

“Yeah,” Parker says quietly. “That’s not normal light, though.”

Remy’s gaze lingers on my hands, the faint traces of gold still fading under my skin. “That looks exactly like what I saw at the creek.”

“It felt the same,” I admit softly.

Ryder pulls me into his arms, tucking me close against his chest. His heart beats steady and strong beneath my cheek. “It didn’t hurt?”

“No, just… pressure. Energy, maybe.”

Jaxon edges closer, peeking from behind the counter. “It made the pancakes float.”

That earns a startled laugh from Callen. “She’s levelling up mid–breakfast, great.”

“Not helping,” Ryder growls.

But even he can’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he looks down at Jax. “You okay, buddy?”

Jaxon nods. “She’s magic.”

“Yeah,” Ryder murmurs, his voice gentling. “She is.” He glances back at me. “You’re sure you feel fine?”

“I’m fine.” I exhale slowly. “It just… happened. Like it was waiting.”

Parker moves toward the window, watching the tree line. “Ronnie’s going to want to run tests again.”

Remy snorts. “He’ll run out of theories before he runs out of tests.”

Ryder shoots them both a look but doesn’t argue. His attention stays on me. “Next time you feel anything like that, any change at all… you call for us. Understood?”

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I nod, the weight of his tone settling into me like an anchor. “Understood.”

He presses his forehead to mine briefly, grounding both of us. “Good.”

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For a long while, no one moves. The kitchen hums quietly, alive with leftover traces of energy.

Then Jaxon pipes up. “Can we still eat the pancakes?”

That breaks the tension completely. Callen groans, shaking his head. “Kid’s priorities are in

order.”

I glance at the counter. The pancakes are still perfect, untouched. Somehow, the light didn’t burn or ruin anything. It just… was.

“Yeah,” I tell Jaxon softly. “We can still eat.’

Ryder squeezes my shoulder once before releasing me, though he stays close as we move around the kitchen. The others don’t leave either; they hover in that subtle protective way they all do when they’re pretending they’re not worried.

When the first pancake is on Jax’s plate, the house feels almost normal again. Almost, because under it all, I can still feel it. That faint hum beneath my skin, the energy that isn’t fading this time.

I look up and find Parker already watching me, eyes full of quiet understanding. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t ask what’s wrong; he just knows. He always does. He crosses the room in a few strides and pulls me into his arms, and the moment he does, everything inside me

steadies.

The hum softens. My pulse evens out. The air feels lighter again.

I melt into him, letting his warmth soak into me. From the moment I met Parker, he’s always been this… my anchor in chaos, my comfort blanket. He’s the calm to my storm, the safe place I didn’t know I needed until I found him.

He presses a quiet kiss against my head, not saying a word, and that simple touch is enough to make the last of the tension leave my body.

Ryder moves quietly in the background; he’s the steady centre of gravity in my life. My rock. The one who keeps me grounded no matter how wild the world gets. He’s the reason I remember to breathe when everything starts spinning too fast. One look from him, and I know I’m not alone.

Callen leans casually against the counter, pretending to inspect the pancakes, but I can see the curve of his mouth fighting a smile. There’s mischief in his eyes, always. He’s my reminder that even in the worst moments, there’s still laughter, still lightness to be found if

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you’re brave enough to look for it. He’s chaos wrapped in charm, and gods help me, I wouldn’t

trade a second of it.

And Remy… quiet, observant Remy. He lingers near the window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the horizon, like he can keep the whole world at bay by will alone. But beneath that steel, he’s gentler than anyone I’ve ever known. He’s my reminder that there’s always a light at the end of every darkness, that even broken things can still be beautiful.

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