All Chapters of The lost packs: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

*Amber* As I sit in Tjeck’s office, the tension of the last couple of days still hangs in the air, but it’s now mingled with something more joyful. The atmosphere is electric, charged with the energy of newly rekindled love. I can’t help but grin as I watch Tjeck and Kattie exchange glances, and little touches, their chemistry as always palpable. It’s as if the world around us has faded, leaving just Them in this moment of pure happiness, and then me watching, almost feeling jealous, because I know I will never have this again. Kattie leans against Tjeck’s desk, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she teases him about his strength, and how she is happy to see he has kept in shape even without her around ro kick his ass. I can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of their banter wrap around me like a cozy blanket. It feels like we’re all kids again, lost in our own little universe, where nothing else matters except the bonds we’ve forged through trials and triumphs. But just as t

*Tjeck* I stand a few paces away, arms crossed tightly å my chest, watching the scene unfold with a gnawing tension in my gut. Thorn is back… alive, and apparently well… It feels surreal. It’s like a dream I didn’t dare to have, yet here he is, embracing Amber with that familiar warmth. I can see the relief washing over her, the joy that I want to feel but can’t quite grasp. Not yet. “Wait a minute,” I interject, my voice low and tense as I step forward. “You knew Kattie wasn’t dead?” I direct my question at Thorn, my protective instincts flaring up. I’m not sure if I’m angry or just confused, but my heart races as I watch his expression shift from joy to something more serious… would he really keep this from me? “Yes,” Thorn replies, his voice steady. “But I only found out literally yesterday . I haven’t been deliberately keeping it from you. If Kattie hadn’t been back, I would’ve told you. The mayor told me that she was brought to a city hospital.” The truth in his eyes is unde

*Thorn* As we settle into the plush backseat of the town car, the soft hum of the engine wraps around us like a warm blanket as we slide through the gate and soon leaves the underworld behind. Teyla sits beside me, her eyes sparkling with the remnants of joy from our visit. I can’t help but glance out the window at the stretch of forest before the familiar city skyline comes into view, the lights twinkling like stars against the night. It’s a sight I’ve seen countless times, but it is the first time in my life I see it coming home. I’d sworn an oath to myself and the underworld a long time ago, a promise to never let go of the life I’d built within its shadows. But the moment I bonded with Teyla, when I realised what we can do together, not just for ourselves but for my friends and family in the underworld, everything shifted. The weight of my past suddenly felt like a distant echo, drowned out by the possibilities of the future. I turn to Teyla, her profile illuminated by the sof

*Amber* I push through the heavy door leading into the common area, my heart still racing from the encounter with Zombie. The air feels charged, crackling with the weight of everything hanging in the balance. I need to find Kattie, I need to talk things through with her. She’ll know what to do. I scan the room, searching for her familiar face, and there she is… sitting in one of the old mismatched chairs, her legs tucked beneath her, a book spread open in her lap. The moment she sees me, her eyes light up, a warm smile breaking across her face that momentarily chases away the shadows clouding my thoughts. “Amber!” she exclaims, putting the book aside. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “More like a walking disaster,” I reply, rushing toward her. “I just had a conversation with Zombie.” Her smile falters, and I catch the flicker of tension in her expression. “Oh. Was it… good?” I nod, feeling the weight of my words. “He wanted to know about Christopher and Thorn. He’s worried

*Zombie* The wooden floorboards creak beneath my restless feet as I pace the length of the pack house. The scent of saltwater lingers in the air, a reminder that the harbor is just a stone’s throw away. But right now, the ocean’s calmness feels like a taunt, an unsettling contrast to the storm brewing within me. I can still see Amber’s face, her eyes bright with determination, and it unsettles me in ways I can’t articulate. There’s a pull in my chest, a magnetic force drawing me toward her, yet I know better than to give in. She’s a kind of an ally now, not a potential mate. The brother of her dead mate shouldn’t even entertain such thoughts, also she accepts me, but she probably still hate me. I stop and lean against the wall, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the remnants of our conversation. There’s something about her resolve, the way she stands firm against the chaos, that makes me feel both inspired and inadequate. I shouldn’t care. I should focus on the loom