The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 62

** Parker’s POV **

The moment Paige takes Jaxon upstairs to bed, I pull out the file our intel guy handed me at the pack meet from where I shoved it in my jacket.

I flip it open on the kitchen island, careful not to spread everything out too wide in case Paige wanders back in. She doesn’t need to deal with this tonight, not after the day she’s had. She’d been radiant today, nerves hidden under that quiet grace of hers, standing tall before a crowd that looked at her with suspicion.

The first picture almost guts me. Paige in a white dress. It’s simple yet elegant, the kind of beauty that doesn’t need lace or sparkle to shine. Her hair is pinned up in soft curls, a few strands loose around her face. The sunlight streaming through the church windows catches her eyes, making them brighter. She looks younger here, and there’s a hope there I’ve never seen in her. It makes my chest ache; I want to make her look that way. I want to bring that hope back into her eyes.

Greg stands at her side, smiling for the camera, his hand pressed too tightly against her waist. It looks like an image of possession, not love. I clench my jaw and force myself to keep looking, even though every instinct screams at me to tear the photo in half. My mate is stunning; she always has been, but there’s a bitter, jealous part of me that wishes I could have been the one beside her that day.

The next photo is a close-up of Jaxon. He’s barely more than a toddler, dressed in a tiny white shirt and a crooked little tie that someone clearly wrestled him into. His cheeks are round, and his hair fluffier, but those eyes are the same. He’s clapping at something out of shot, his joy spreading across his entire face. My chest tightens. That little boy, that moment of pure happiness. Paige gave him that, held his world together while Greg played at being a husband.

I shuffle through the stack. There’s more of the ceremony, Paige crouching to straighten Jaxon’s tie while Greg stands aside, disinterested. Shots of the reception, tables of food, dancing and laughter. Paige is smiling in all of them, but when I look closely, her smile never reaches her eyes. It’s like a mask, and it makes me wonder how early she’d begun to realise the mistake she’d made.

Then I notice it.

The shots zoom closer, faces picked out from the crowd. At first, I don’t recognise them, but as I flick to the marked images, my stomach sinks and a growl rumbles in my chest.

One man in the background, wearing a dark jacket, blends into the crowd, but his eyes are familiar. I’ve seen him here on pack lands just a few days ago, just after he shot a wolfsbane dart into Callen. In another photo, two tables back, is a male in a blue tux. I know that face from an intel list from another pack. Another hunter.

“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.

It isn’t a coincidence. Hunters don’t just show up at weddings, blending into the background, unless they were invited. Unless someone wanted them there.

Footsteps on the back porch have me flipping the folder halfway closed, but when Ryder, Callen, and Remy stride in from a quick perimeter check, I relax.

“Did you find something?” Remy asks, glancing at the file.

I slide the folder across the table. “Pictures from Paige’s wedding. Our intel guy marked a few faces.”

They lean in, each man taking in the images. Ryder’s jaw tenses, Callen frowns, and Remy lets out a low growl.

“Those two,” I say, pointing to the close-ups. “Confirmed hunters. They weren’t random guests. Which means Greg had connections all the way back then.”

The silence is heavy. Then Ryder’s fist slams against the island. “He brought hunters into her life. Into Jax’s life. That bastard.”

“Exactly,” I nod. “He’s not just some deadbeat ex. He’s tied to them, and now we’ve got proof. I highly doubt this was an accident on their part. I suspect Paige was just a pawn to them all along.”

“We should tell her tonight,” Remy snaps. His voice is sharp enough to cut. “She deserves to know.”

Ryder shakes his head immediately. “No. Not tonight. She just stood in front of the pack for the first time. She was terrified, but she did it anyway. You really want to dump this on her before she’s even had a chance to sleep?”

“She needs to know the danger,” Callen counters, calm but firm. “If Greg is connected to hunters, he connects them to her and Jax. Keeping it from her makes her more vulnerable.”

“They won’t get near her here. Let her rest for tonight,” Ryder shoots back.

He strides up the stairs, leaving the three of us staring after him.

For a moment, I think they’re both going to turn on me, arguing their case. But then Callen turns to me, his expression hard. “Get a team on Greg. I want him followed. Discreetly. I want to know where he goes, who he speaks to, every fucking meal he eats. No contact, not yet, just eyes.”

I nod, already pulling my phone from my pocket. “Consider it done.”

Callen stares at me for a moment longer, like he’s deciding whether to push the point about Paige, but then he just exhales. “We can’t afford to miss a single thing with him.”

Remy sinks into a chair, running both hands through his hair. “She’s going to break when she finds out.”

“No,” I say softly, shutting the folder at last. “She won’t break. She already knows about this deep down. This is just confirmation. She’ll fight back, and we’ll fight with her.”

The room falls silent, each of us lost in our own thoughts, but mine circles back to the image burned into my mind: Paige standing before the pack today, shoulders squared and fire in her eyes, despite her nerves. She didn’t flinch when they looked at her like an outsider. She didn’t run away when the whispers started. She stood tall, a Luna in every sense.

My Luna.

She isn’t mine alone; I know that. She never will be. But when I looked at her on that platform, facing an entire pack of wolves with her chin lifted, it was all I could do not to fall to my knees in front of her. I’ve seen alphas less composed than she was. I’ve seen warriors crumble under less pressure. But Paige… my Paige, she carried herself like she’d been born to it.

I worship her. Not just the way she looked in that wedding dress years ago, or the way she looks now when Jax clings to her side. I worship her strength, her stubborn heart, the way she’s carried pain and still kept moving.

She doesn’t even know how much I already love her. I’d burn the entire world down before I let Greg, the hunters… or anyone, take her from me. And tomorrow, when the truth comes out, I’ll be at her side. Whatever it costs.