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The Lost Pack Novel Cover

The Lost Pack

Six years ago, the boy I loved vanished after our first night together. Left pregnant and alone at eighteen, I endured the loss of my parents while raising my son and sister. Now, after discovering my husband's infidelity, I’ve moved to a mountain town for a fresh start. I didn't expect to find a secret society of shifters or their Alpha—the man who abandoned me. He has no idea he is the father of my child, or that our past is about to collide.
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Chapter 2

** Paige’s POV **

“I know what you’ve been doing, Greg,” I say, when I come downstairs the next morning to find him eating a bowl of cereal at the dining table.

The words have barely left my mouth before his face twists into a bitter scowl. He looks up at me, spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Oh, and what is it you think I’ve been doing?” he says, his tone mocking.

I dropped the phone on the table in front of him. The screen lights up with even more texts. Her name. Her face. The texts.

Leanne: Good morning, handsome.

Leanne: I miss your touch.

Leanne: Tonight, after she’s asleep?

Leanne: You make me feel alive again.

Alive!

I was here slowly dying while he was in someone else’s arms, making them feel alive.

“Do you love her?” My voice cracks a little. I hate that. Hate how small and weak I sound.

Greg stares at the phone like it’s a weapon, and maybe it is because I’m finally done playing the soft-hearted fool who cleaned up the mess and smiled through neglect.

“She doesn’t mean anything,” he sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“No,” I step back, wrapping my arms around myself, so I’m not tempted to hurl the bowl at his head. "It’s actually very simple. You lied. You had sex with her while I was here with Jaxon, while I was working hard to pay for this house, while I was trying to believe we could still save our marriage.

A heavy silence fills the room.

“I needed something for me, Paige,” he says. “You’ve been…God, you’ve been gone since the moment I met you. You never let me in because you were always holding on to ghosts, always waiting for your precious Ryder to return.”

I open my mouth to speak, then shut it again. Is he right? Is this my fault?

“You’re right,” I breathe. “Maybe I’ve been holding on to the girl I used to be. To the pieces I’ve tried to glue together. To the hope that you might learn to love me the way I am. I’m never going to be the person you are trying to mold me into, and neither is my son.”

“Mummy,” Jaxon’s voice calls faintly from upstairs, and I turn to leave.

“Where are you going?” Greg asks, his chair scraping the floor as he stands.

“Somewhere we can breathe. Somewhere far from you and this lie. I want a divorce.”

Then I walk upstairs and pack two duffel bags for me and Jax. Greg doesn’t bother to say a word to stop us or even attempt to apologise before I walk out of the door and leave the life I thought I built here.

Jax is quiet as we pull away from the house, and I glance at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes look worried as he clutches his grey wolf teddy to his chest. He senses something is wrong and I hate that he will have to suffer for Greg’s actions too.

“How about we stop at the cafe for pancakes for breakfast?” I ask.

“Is Greg coming?”

“No, baby. It’s just us now. We are going on an adventure,” I say, trying my best to sound cheerful.

“Where are we going?”

“To live near Auntie Poppy,” I smile, but Jaxon’s eyes well up with tears.

“It’s going to be okay, buddy, I promise,” I say, trying to reassure him.

“But what about my friends, and Granny and Grandad?” He asks in a quiet tone.

“You are going to make lots of new friends, and Granny and Grandad will be with us in spirit; they’re always watching over you.”

Whilst Jaxon eats his pancakes, I make some phone calls. The landlord of the house Poppy had sent me is very sympathetic to our situation and, after running a few checks on me, he agrees to let us move in today.

Poppy had been right. The house was sweet. I had only seen the pictures online from the link she had sent me, but I trusted Poppy when she said it was exactly how the pictures had shown.

It was smaller than our current house, but it was perfect for me and Jax. I couldn’t find much information about the town, but the local school looks wonderful, and after a telephone conversation with the headteacher, I think Jaxon will thrive there. I make an appointment to visit the school tomorrow afternoon.

After breakfast, we call into the florist shop next door, and I let Jax pick out all his favourite flowers whilst I pick out some lavender and blue roses and add them to the bouquet to leave on my parent’s grave.

My mind flashes back to Ryder. He would often present me with a single rose, and then explain what each colour represented. I notice a few black roses as I’m paying, and I pick up a single one to add to my purchase.

“Do you want this added to the bouquet?” the florist asks.

“No, thank you. Keep that one separate.”

We arrive at the cemetery, and Jax puts the flowers on my parent’s headstone. Jaxon was only a day old when they died, but I have always made sure he knew about them. They had died in a horrific car accident whilst I was still in the hospital after giving birth.

I had thought losing Ryder was the worst thing that could happen to me until that day. My parents were the best. They supported me throughout my pregnancy and, whilst I grieved for Ryder. My heart still aches for them and for my son. They would have adored Jaxon and I hate he never got to have a relationship with them. I could really use my mum’s support right now. I know she would offer me some wise words about moving onto better things.

After some time at the cemetery, we get back in the car, ready to leave this town and start our new life. I just have one more stop to make.

I park outside the detached bungalow, Ryder’s old house, and am overwhelmed by memories. I haven’t been here for years, not since I met Greg. Visiting this place felt like betraying him. Sadly, his devotion paled compared to mine.

The once beautifully manicured garden is now overgrown, and the paint is flaking from the small iron gate. The house still looks untouched.

“Who lives here, mummy?” Jax asks.

“This is where your daddy lived before he went missing,” I explain.

Although he’s not old enough to fully understand, I have never hidden the truth from Jaxon. I didn’t want him to grow up thinking his father hadn’t wanted him.

“Do you think he might still be hiding in there? We could try to find him. Maybe he is under the bed. I go under my bed when I’m scared,” Jax says, and I smile at his naivety.

“No, bud, he’s not in there,” I sigh and unbuckle my seatbelt.

“Can I come?” Jaxon asks, as I climb out of the car.

“Sure,” I say, opening his door and helping him out of his seat before taking the single black rose from the passenger seat.

The iron gate screeches as I struggle to push it open with its rusted hinges. Another sign that no one has been here for years. I expected the house to be on the market by now. It just adds more to the mystery that the house remains empty.

I walk hand in hand with Jax up to the front door. Butterflies flutter in my stomach just as they did the first time I walked up this path to knock on this door for our first date.

Ryder’s parents had been out, and he had invited me over to watch a movie. I clearly remember the way my breath had caught in my throat when he had opened the door and his piercing blue eyes had captivated me.

At first, we had sat awkwardly at opposite ends of the couch sharing a bag of popcorn and as the movie played, our hands had slowly inched closer together until our pinky fingers had touched. That tiny contact had sent my heart racing, and I had known in that moment that Ryder would be someone special to me.

I have never had anyone make me feel the way Ryder could. Each touch felt like a soothing balm. His kisses felt like electric charging my soul and his hugs were an impenetrable shield. I felt so safe in his arms.

Jaxon pulls his hand from mine, snapping me out of the memory that had been replaying in my mind. He steps up onto the doorstep and reaches out, placing a hand flat on the door and closing his eyes.

“He’s not in here,” he sighs and steps back to take my hand again.

I lean down and place the rose on the doorstep.

“What does the black one mean?” Jax asks.

“It represents power, strength and hope. It can also mean sympathy or the end of a relationship,” I explain, glad that I can share a bit of his father’s beliefs with him.

I take one last look at the house and then turn and leave. I am closing the chapter on this part of my life. It’s time to stop living in the past and leave all the ghosts behind. Now we can start living for the future. I can only hope it will be kinder than the past.

As we pass over the town limits, I look back in my rearview mirror. We were happy here for a while, but now betrayal and sadness taint the place. It’s time to make fresh memories in a new place.

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