Page 94 of All Packed Up

“Let’s just say the Sterling Pack is never getting their hands on her again.”

Griffith read the resolve in Nic’s gaze and felt his chest swell with pride. Nic would be a good mate to anyon—

Lightning flashed, lighting up the living room with white light. A split second later, thunder cracked so hard the house shook, and darkness descended with a snap.

A scream rang out from the second floor, and Grif hadn’t even given his eyes enough time to adjust to the softer light of the fire before he was on the move. Their feet pounded throughout the home as they raced to Wendy’s room. Nic was first and dove for her on the bed as Griffith pulled himself to a stop with a hand wrapped around the doorjamb. He held it so hard the ridges bit into his hand, but the sound of Wendy’s terrified gasps filled the room and made his chest ache.

Someone took out their phone and turned on the light, revealing Wendy gathered into Nic’s arms as she gasped.

“I’m sorry, sorry. It’s okay,” she panted. She winced against the light. “Don’t worry about me, I’m okay.”

“What happened?” Tate asked as he tugged open the closet door to check for monsters. Or abusive alphas. Same thing.

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry I screamed,” she said, voice stronger, but her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry,” Grif said, surprised at the sound of his voice. “The dark out here is different than in the city.”

Wendy and Nic seemed just as surprised as Grif at his words, but she offered him a small smile.

“I was already on edge, and the thunder woke me up, but then it was dark and the lights wouldn’t work and for a second I thought I was… I thought I was still… there. I thought you’d been a dream.” She released a shaky breath, her hand still gripped tight around Nic’s arm. “Sorry to worry everyone.”

“No apologies,” Arlo assured her, holding the light at the ceiling so he didn’t blind anyone.

Wendy studied each of them for a split second before she dropped her gaze.

“We’ll give you a minute, and then you can come down when you’re ready,” Tate offered. He backed toward the door, bumping Arlo out of the way. It jostled the light across the ceiling and made Grif a little nauseous.

“You okay?” Nic asked Wendy, and Grif watched them together.

“Yeah, just embarrassed.”

Grif’s chest tightened in sympathy. If anyone understood that, it was him. Griffith hated when people looked at him differently once they learned about his past. Just because of what he’d been through didn’t mean he should be treated like a fucking criminal.

Just because Wendy was a victim didn’t mean she wanted to be treated like one. If she was anything like him, she wanted to feel normal, not babied.

And the last thing she probably wanted was a fucking audience.

“I’m going to go shower all this dirt off,” he announced and began backtracking.

Wendy’s head popped up. “In the dark?”

“Water still works,” Griffith responded. “And besides, a few shadows never hurt anyone.”

Did he knock over a bottle or two in the process? Yes. But he managed, and as he dressed for evening comfort, the soft voices of all the others drifted to his room.

Daisy was sound asleep in his bed, uncaring of the drama that unfolded around her.

Oh, to be a spoiled pup sleeping the storm away in a pile of blankets.

He scratched her between the ears before leaving her to her slumber and—

Promptly came to a halt at the entrance to the living area.

“What the hell happened to my floor?” he asked.

Arlo and Tate stood, a blanket and pillow falling to the ground from their hands.

“Nothing,” Tate lied, then grimaced. “Well, not nothing, but not anything bad? I mean, it’s going to get cold without the central heat, so why not pile up in front of the fire?”