Page 49 of Stuck with my Pack
Brodie:Sophie’s gone. She’s been outside too long. I can smell her heat from here. We need to find her—NOW.
Tyler’s response is immediate.Coming.
Ethan’s follows a second later.Where was she last?
I barely type out a response before I’m moving. Fast. My boots are crushing through the snow, following the delicate ribbon of scent curling through the night. I don’t need to see tracks to know where she went— her body is calling to me. To us.
She was already burning when I left. And now she’s out here, alone, lost in the cold, her body betraying her.
A deep, feral growl rumbles in my chest at the thought of someone else catching her scent first. An unclaimed Omega in heat is a fucking invitation to disaster.
I won’t let that happen.
I won’t let her be afraid.
I won’t let her be alone.
I’ll find her.
Even if I have to tear through the whole damn forest to do it.
The storm rages around me, the snow biting into my skin like tiny daggers, but none of it registers past the icy fear clawing at my chest.
Sophie is out here.Alone. And every second that passes without finding her tightens the vice around my ribs. My boots crunch through the deepening snow as I move forward, my flashlight beam cutting through the swirling white, barely illuminating the path ahead.
My breath comes in sharp bursts, visible in the freezing air, but I don’t slow down. I can’t slow down.
I push forward, every muscle in my body coiled, my Alpha instincts are raging at the thought of her out here, lost, vulnerable, burning. She needs me. She needs us.
I call her name, my voice raw and hoarse, lost to the wind.
No answer. The silence makes something dark coil in my gut.
A sharp shout pierces through the howling storm. “Here! I’ve got something!” It’s Ethan’s voice.
I whip my head around and spot him crouched a few feet ahead, his flashlight illuminating something in the snow.
Footprints. They’re faint but they’re hers.
“She came through here,” Ethan says, his voice tense.
I don’t wait for more confirmation. I take off, running.
Hold on, Sophie. Just hold on.
The trail is uneven, half-buried under the fresh snowfall, but I don’t stop. I push through, my legs burning, my breath ragged. My heart is hammering against my ribs, a frantic rhythm.
Find her, find her, find her.
Then—my flashlight catches something ahead.
A shape in the snow.
A body.
Sophie.
My stomach drops as I sprint forward, my boots slipping, but I don’t care. I fall to my knees beside her, my hands already moving, brushing snow away from her face, her hair.
