All Chapters of The lost packs: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

*Tjeck* There are memories that etch themselves into your very soul… like the moment life slips from a body, a final breath escaping into the eternity, the whispered prayers that fade into silence. In that instant, it’s irrelevant whether the figure before you was a friend or foe; they are a casualty of the night. The person I was before the war is a ghost now, lost to the shadows of conflict. No matter how brief the skirmish, the transformation is irrevocable. I carry the weight of mourning for those I’ve lost, the haunting echoes of lives I’ve extinguished, and a gnawing dread for those I hold dear. It’s unsettling how your mind numbs to the metallic tang of blood, how the urge to vomit dissipates into a chilling calm. Strangely, the cacophony of bodies colliding, the screams, and the cries for mercy become mere background noise… a relentless rhythm of survival. A habit. You don’t forget the battlefield or the ever-looming specter of death, the realization that the next victim

*Tjeck* Inside the apartment, an eerie calmness hangs in the air, thick enough to cut through. From the kitchen, I can hear Kress and Thorn’s murmured voices, their tones low and urgent as they hover over Clay, who lies motionless on the kitchen table. Adis stands in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, biting his nails, his anxiety palpable. He hardly registers my presence, lost in his own thoughts. By the couch, KC squats beside a slender, seemingly unconscious girl, meticulously tending to a wound as Hope sits beside him on a stack of empty beer crates that serve as a makeshift coffee table, passing him the supplies he needs. These are the kids I worry about… the ones who have learned to care for the wounded in a world that demands far too much from them at such a young age. In the underworld, children grow up alarmingly fast. It’s a stark reality when a fifteen-year-old acts as a nurse to a seventeen-year-old battling injuries from the street. I know Kress and T

*Amber/Sarah* Waking up in pain isn't new to me; that much I know. But waking up feeling this level of confusion? That’s definitely a first, and my wolf is no help either. I can’t recall what has happened to make my entire body ache like this. Have I been in an accident? Or was it a nasty fight? Why does this pain feel so familiar when I have no idea where it’s coming from? What happened to me? I dare not move, and I can’t seem to muster the strength to open my eyes. I try to gather my thoughts. I know I am in pain, and that it isn’t normal, but what else do I know? Who am I? Finally, I open my eyes and gaze up at a gray ceiling. There are several holes in it, and isolation material is poking out of the corners. Where am I? The walls have undoubtedly been white at one time, and before that, they seem to have been rose-colored. It’s clear this room hasn’t been maintained in ages; no one seems to care that the wallpaper is peeling, exposing layers of what once was. In some places,

*Amber/Sarah* I don’t need to look at my own body to be reminded of the level of hurt I’ve endured. I don’t even need the physical pain to know it; this knowledge defines me, and it’s hard to let that go. Kattie is incredibly friendly and helpful. She assists me in finding some of her clothes that are easy to put on over my sore body. It’s not a big issue, though, as her clothes are a bit too big for me. KC ensures I never run out of painkillers. Despite being only 17 years old, he has a steady hand that rivals that of any doctor I’ve ever met. Both Kattie and KC exhibit a remarkable level of responsibility and maturity far beyond their years. They have clearly been forced to grow up too soon, which initially makes me feel sorry for them. But then I realize that at least they have the freedom to shape their own lives. Hope, Kattie’s 15-year-old baby sister, spends most of her time keeping me company. With long brown hair and the same green eyes as Kattie, she is very talkative.

*Tjeck* I’m riding on the back of Kattie's motorbike. She insisted on driving, claiming that the bike is easier to maneuver through the woods than my car. The idea of using motorbikes came from Clay when he arrived. Adis managed to obtain two bikes, and Kattie is just as thrilled about them as the guys are. Both cars and motorbikes makes it easier to transport stuff, than running in wolf form. Our first stop in the search for Toph, or Christopher as he goes by now, is the Noble estate. Kattie hangs back as I knock on the large oak door and wait. A young she-wolf opens the door, her gaze fixed on the ground the entire time. "Good afternoon, miss. I'm looking for Mr. Noble." I don’t think it’s wise to ask directly for Christopher since this isn’t his home. "The Alpha isn't home," she replies meekly. "What about his son-in-law?" I ask, unsure if Christopher has adopted a last name since moving back to the city. "Do you know where I can find him?" "At his office in the casino," she