Page 38 of Pack Nightmare

“You’re right. It’s probably smart to have some backup. So, what do you have in mind?”

Chapter Nineteen

Layla

After our morning classes, we gather in the parking lot and take Landon’s SUV.

To say that the atmosphere is tense would be an understatement.

The weather is pretty enough outside; although there are some threatening clouds on the horizon, it’s mostly blue sky and sunny, with crisp fall breezes rustling the leaves as we drive by.

However, I probably should have expected that despite the roomy interior, the ride would be anything but comfortable, given my companions.

Derrek took the front passenger seat to give Landon directions. Even though I know he’s technically almost a decade older than us, I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. It seems strange, however, to have our Lit professor riding in a packed vehicle we’re typically in for coffee runs and scarfing french fries.

I’m in the middle of the back seat with Jared and Milo flanking my sides, and there’s a weird tension in the car I can’t quite dispel. My valiant efforts to engage the guys in different conversations continue to be met with short, clipped answers.

Landon and Derrek seem to do alright up front; the latter providing turn-by-turn directions and engaging Landon in light conversation about the weather and the area. Landon seems pretty chill, although his knuckles do whiten on the steering wheel from time to time.

I’m using the ride to test my alpha skills of sensing the emotional climate of the pack. As we drive through town, I can sense the general contentment with the occasional flare of anger or frustration. I still have no way of identifying the individuals who aren’t happy, but part of me wonders if that will change when I am ‘officially’ alpha, or it’s just like an early warning signal. A useful tool to know someone is unhappy, but not an exact science.

Once we leave town, I lose a sense of the individuals, and eventually the feeling fades altogether when we leave pack lands.

I realize with a start that I haven’t been out of Smoky Falls since I arrived. Instinctively, I glance at my phone, setting a mental timer that no matter what happens, I have to be back within 24 hours.

But even though we’re off pack land, I can still sample the emotions of my fated. Landon is a little nervous, which is definitely understandable. Milo is calmly tapping on his phone and appears perfectly serene, but there’s a sharp edge of tension to his emotions. Sort of like he’s calm, but extremely alert.

Of course, I can’t really sense Derrek’s emotions the same way, but Jared is impossible to misread—everything about his posture screams tense. His leg won’t stop twitching; his gaze is permanently fixed on the back of Derrek’s head rest as if he’s attempting to develop laser vision and burn his way through, and even his hands fidget in his lap, picking at his cuticles.

He feels exactly what he’s showing me. I reach over and claim one hand, threading my fingers through his before he makes himself bleed.

His eyes dart to mine and I smile encouragingly. His answering smile is tight, but he draws in a deep breath. “Sorry gorgeous, I’m just worried.”

“I know.” I squeeze his hand. “But we have to do this. If there’s a chance we can stop the curse, wouldn’t that be worth it?”

“Depends on what ‘it’ is,” he replies in a low voice. “We really don’t know what we’re walking into. You getting hurt is definitely not worth it, in my book.”

“I won’t,” I promise, knowing full well I have no way to keep it.

Jared gives me another half-hearted smile, but I know he doesn’t really mean it. He’s just trying to comfort me.

“Just relax, man,” Milo pipes up from my other side. “It won’t do you any good to spend the entire ride tweaking out. Save it for when it counts.”

He looks meaningfully at Jared, who nods, swallows, and goes back to staring at Derrek’s head rest.

An uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach. I hope they don’t have anything planned that would hurt Derrek. They certainly have no reason to hate him.

Liar, my dark little voice whispers. They have every reason to hate him. To hate you for what you did.

My palms start to sweat and I disengage from Jared’s hand gently, wiping mine on my pant legs.

Guilt is a funny thing. It shows up suddenly, making my stomach flip-flop and bringing bile to my throat at the most inopportune times. Then it disappears for long stretches, only to rear its ugly head once more when I least expect it.

I was able to shove it down in the wake of Derrek’s proposal yesterday, and I enjoyed the ride alone with Landon, talking about his music without restraint or fear of being overheard.

It wasn’t until he walked me up to the door and leaned in to kiss me goodbye that I panicked. Guilt flooded my system, wondering if I would taste or smell like Derrek, if he would know I’d been all over the older man an hour earlier. I gave him a hug and a quick peck on the lips, then darted inside.

It’s strange, being of two minds about it. One part of me relives the entire exchange repeatedly, luxuriating in every delicious moment of tension between us, every rough touch of his hands, every feeling under my fingertips.

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