The Lost Pack (Paige) novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

** Paige’s POV **

I wake up tucked between Ryder and Parker, both of their bodies warm against me. Ryder has his arm draped over my waist, but I can tell by his breathing that he’s already awake. He doesn’t open his eyes when I shift, just pulls me closer, his lips pressing against my temple.

No one will say it out loud, but we all know this morning is different.

By the time we make it into the kitchen, Callen already has coffee ready. He passes me a cup with a soft smile, but his eyes flick towards Ryder immediately. Both of them have a look that tells me they’re having a silent conversation. Remy joins us last, his hair still damp from his

shower.

Jaxon, of course, is the only one blissfully unaware of the gravity of today. He’s perched on a chair at the kitchen island, swinging his legs as he shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in days. “Mummy, guess what? Miss Regina said I read faster than everyone in class. Faster than her, even,” he beams.

I smooth his hair back and kiss the top of his head. “I believe it, baby. You’re so clever.”

“You must have got that skill from your mum,” Ryder laughs, but I can hear the tension in his

voice.

After breakfast, Jaxon goes to watch his cartoons, and we gather around the table like we’re going over a battle strategy instead of a trip to the registry office. In a way, we are.

“Paige and I will go together,” Ryder says firmly. “Rem, you’re coming in with us. We post two enforcers right outside the building, and one stays with the cars.”

Remy nods, his expression unreadable, but his jaw is tense, and I’m pretty sure he’s running through worst–case scenarios.

Callen leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Don’t worry about anything back here. If anything goes sideways here, we’ll be ready.”

Parker shifts beside me, his knee brushing mine under the table. “We have a solid escape plan. If the hunters cross our border, Jax and the other kids will be gone before they get anywhere near them.”

The tension in my chest eases, just a little. We know if word gets out that Ryder is off pack land, the hunters might see it as an opportunity to strike, but we have a plan, a solid one that we’ve gone over a hundred times in the past few days. I still hate it.

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“Are we sure it’s not safer to take him with us?” I ask quietly. The question has been nagging at me all week. “I hate the thought of being away from him, even for a few hours.”

Ryder squeezes my hand. “It’s safer if he stays here. Out there, he’d be exposed. Here with his uncles and the pack, he’s protected.” His voice is fierce and certain. “I won’t risk him.”

I nod. I know they’re right, even if it feels wrong.

When it’s time for us to leave, I pull Jaxon into a hug, fighting the urge to say I’ve changed my mind and either cancel the appointment or take him with us. I hold him a little longer than usual, and Ryder comes to wrap us both in his own protective embrace.

Jaxon, still oblivious to the gravity of it all, looks between us with wide eyes. “Are we going on

another mission, Mum?”

I laugh softly, brushing his cheek. “Not this time, baby. This one’s for the grown–ups.”

He pouts, but then Parker leans down to whisper something about code names and secret training drills. Just like that, Jax is grinning again, bouncing with excitement.

I wish I could have even a fraction of his enthusiasm for our own mission.

My eyes meet Callen and Parker’s, holding each of their gazes for a moment with a silent plea. “Keep him safe.”

Both of them nod, their eyes sure, and I know without a shadow of a doubt, they’ll die before they let anything happen to my boy.

The drive into the city feels longer than it is. Maybe because I spend the whole time staring out the window, my stomach is in knots. Every car, every person, every building or thick bush is suspicious in my eyes.

An enforcer I don’t recognise drives while Remy sits beside me in the backseat, his arm resting along the top of the chair like he’s ready to shield me at a moment’s notice. Another blacked–out SUV follows close behind, with Ryder and a second pair of enforcers inside.

It should feel excessive to have four highly trained, deadly wolves escorting me to the registry office, but instead, it feels barely enough.

Remy leans closer. “Breathe, Paige. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“If you really believed that, we wouldn’t be travelling like this,” I whisper.

He doesn’t argue or try to brush off my worry with any more false reassurance. He just laces his fingers with mine and holds on tight.

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When we finally park up in an open–air car park opposite the registry office, my pulse spikes. I feel like we are too exposed here. Across the road, the building looks ordinary enough, with its glass doors and dull brick walls, but what if they’re in there, just waiting for us? A few people hang around near the entrance chatting, and some are admiring their newborn babies. They’re so carefree, this is just a normal, non–dangerous outing for them. I envy them.

Remy gets out first, scanning the street with a soldier’s precision. “Clear,” he nods, before gesturing for us to follow.

The moment I slide out of the car and step onto the pavement, Ryder is there, positioning himself at my back while Remy has my front, their bodies barriers between me and the rest of the world. I know it’s instinctive to them, but I’d be irritated if it didn’t make me feel safer

than I want to admit.

Inside, the air smells faintly of bleach and old paper. A receptionist glances up from behind a desk, her expression polite but disinterested as she asks how she can help.

“We have an appointment to re–register a birth,” Ryder says smoothly, but I feel the tension thrumming through him.

“Name,” she asks, sounding bored.

“Ryder Madden and Paige…” Rye falters, looking back at me.

“Wilson,” I finish for him, stepping forward to stand beside him.

The receptionist’s eyes flick towards me. I’m not sure if it’s suspicion or curiosity, but her eyes narrow. I force a smile, not wanting her to think I’m here under duress.

Seemingly satisfied, her focus shifts to her computer. She taps a few keys and then slides a clipboard across the counter. “Fill this out, and I’ll call you when the registrar is available.”

We find three empty chairs together in the waiting area, and I sit between my men, ignoring the glances shooting our way to focus on the form. I know people are just curious; I would be too, if I saw two men of above–average size boxing in a woman this way. Especially when they are giving off a ‘come anywhere near her, and I’ll kill you‘ vibe. I’d wonder who she is and why she has a security escort.

I fill out mine and Ryder’s details and then move on to Jaxon’s, writing his name and then hesitating when I see the box asking if I want to change his surname too. I glance at Ryder, my mind going back to a conversation we had the night he marked me. I’d asked if he was still using the surname ‘Madden‘ or if he’d changed it to his birth family’s name.

He’d explained he kept his name because wolves have a superstition that carrying the name of pack members who died in tragedy is bad luck. It’s said to bind you to their misfortune,

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repeating their mistakes and calling the same end down on your own bloodline. Most packs believe it’s better to leave such names to rest with the dead, letting their story close instead of carrying it forward. Ryder doesn’t fully believe it, but Ronnie was adamant that his parents would not want him tempting fate by carrying their name.

I know Jaxon will be thrilled to have the same name as his father. He asked me if he would change his name to be like his daddy, and when I told him no, not unless that’s what he wanted, he said he would like to.

I tick ‘yes‘ before writing Madden in the box for his new surname. When I look up at Ryder again, he’s still scanning the room, but Remy noticed what I did. I feel it through the bond. When I turn to face him, he gives me a small encouraging nod.

The receptionist finally calls us forward. The registrar, a middle–aged man with glasses perched on the end of his nose, ushers us into a small office that smells of dust and stale

coffee. He runs through the formalities, explaining the legal implications, and making sure we both understand Ryder will have parental responsibility once he’s added to the certificate.

We both agree, and I slide the form across the large wooden desk towards the registrar. He

studies it, nods, and then turns his attention to me. “And you consent to this addition, Ms

Wilson?”

My gaze locks on Ryder, taking in the way his hands curl into fists on his knees and the way his entire body seems to tense as he holds his breath. Does he really think I’d change my

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