the pack leader Jyrus

Chapter Ten: The Calm Before the Storm

The packhouse was heavy with the weight of what was to come. The scent of antiseptic mixed with the familiar, earthy musk of wolves. Jonah paced the length of the large living room, his mind racing faster than his feet could keep up with. His gaze kept flicking to Cyrus, still unconscious, his body wrapped in bandages as Marty's mom worked tirelessly to stabilize him.

The quiet was suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of pack members quietly whispering among themselves, trying to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded. Jonah couldn't afford the luxury of uncertainty. Not now. His thoughts were tangled in a knot of rage, fear, and worry—each one clashing with the next, making it hard to think clearly.

He turned sharply as TJ entered the room, his face grim.

"We've got a problem," TJ said, voice low. "We've been scanning the area around the packhouse. No sign of the people controlling the hybrid... but that doesn't mean they're not still watching."

Jonah's jaw clenched. He felt the gnawing sense of urgency in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being hunted. Like the pack was just a pawn in some sick game, a distraction from the real threat.

Jonah's eyes locked onto TJ, his voice firm. "I won't sit here and wait for them to make the next move. We need to take action."

"You're not thinking clearly," TJ said, stepping closer, his tone softened with concern. "Cyrus is in no condition to fight. And you're not exactly in the best shape either. We can't go charging out there with a target on our backs."

Jonah growled, his wolf itching beneath the surface. He didn't want to hear it. The thought of standing still, of waiting for Cyrus to wake up so they could finally do something, was maddening. But deep down, he knew TJ was right.

Marty walked in just then, wiping his hands on a towel, his face etched with exhaustion. His mother had finally been able to stabilize Cyrus's condition, but the look in his eyes said it all. It wasn't enough.

"He's alive, Jonah," Marty said softly, his eyes glancing briefly at the unconscious form of Cyrus. "But he's not out of the woods yet. If those people controlling the hybrid know what they're doing, they'll be back soon. We need to be ready."

Jonah clenched his fists, his teeth grinding. The weight of his mate's injury hung over him like a dark cloud, and the idea that whoever was controlling the monster might strike again was unbearable.

"We'll be ready," Jonah said, his voice low, the promise more to himself than anyone else. "I'm not losing him."

The Pack Rallies

Cyrus was still unconscious, and the rest of the pack gathered in the large living room of the mansion, their faces set in grim determination. Buffy, Andi, TJ, and Marty all stood close, waiting for the next steps. It was a strange kind of tension that hung in the air—an unspoken agreement that they would do whatever it took to protect the pack, no matter the cost.

Jonah had been pacing for hours. He couldn't sit still. Every time he passed the makeshift bed where Cyrus lay, his heart twisted in his chest. He needed Cyrus by his side. He needed the pack to be whole again. He couldn't let this go on any longer.

Marty and Buffy exchanged a look, but neither spoke up. Andi stood near the window, watching for any signs of danger, his protective instincts at full force.

"You need to rest," TJ finally said to Jonah, his voice gentle but firm. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

Jonah shot him a sharp look, his green eyes filled with unrelenting determination. "I can't rest. Not while they're out there."

"Listen to me," TJ said, stepping closer. "We've been through worse. All of us. And we've got each other's backs. Cyrus wouldn't want you to wear yourself thin."

Jonah opened his mouth to argue but stopped, his words dying in his throat. He knew TJ was right, but it didn't stop the burning in his chest—the ache of not knowing what was coming next.

Cyrus's steady breathing filled the silence between them. Jonah's gaze flicked over to his mate once more, his wolf howling with the need to protect him.

"We'll find them," Jonah said finally, his voice cold with determination. "And when we do, I'm going to make them regret ever touching him."

A Moment Between Mates

The pack was taking a brief reprieve, each one silently recharging after the chaos of the past few hours. The tension between them had lifted slightly as they made plans, but Jonah couldn't shake the image of Cyrus, so pale and motionless. He stepped away from the group, slipping quietly into the room where Cyrus lay.

The air in the room was cool, the soft glow of the fireplace casting shadows across the walls. Jonah stood at the foot of the bed, watching Cyrus's chest rise and fall with each breath. His fingers brushed lightly over the back of Cyrus's hand, aching to feel his mate's warmth, to hear his voice again.

As though sensing his presence, Cyrus's hand twitched, and Jonah froze. His heart skipped a beat, hope surging through him.

"Cy?" Jonah whispered, bending down beside him.

For a long moment, nothing happened. And then, slowly, Cyrus's eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar warm brown of his eyes. His gaze was unfocused at first, but then his eyes locked onto Jonah's green ones with recognition.

"Jonah..." Cyrus rasped, his voice barely audible, weak but filled with warmth.

Jonah's breath caught in his throat. He leaned in closer, brushing a few strands of hair from Cyrus's forehead, his voice thick with emotion. "You scared me," Jonah whispered, his voice rough. "You scared all of us."

Cyrus gave him a weak, lopsided smile. "I didn't mean to... Just... had to finish the fight," he said, his voice strained.

Jonah chuckled softly, brushing his lips across Cyrus's forehead. "You're stubborn. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse."

"It's a blessing," Cyrus muttered with a small smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Just need some time."

Jonah shook his head, his heart full. He wasn't so sure, but he wouldn't let that fear show. Instead, he tightened his grip on Cyrus's hand. "I'm not letting you go anywhere. We'll get through this. Together."

Cyrus squeezed his hand weakly in return, his smile growing just a little brighter. "Always."

Jonah felt something shift inside him—a quiet sense of peace, even as the storm of what was to come still loomed large. For now, they had each other. And that was all he needed to keep going.

The Quiet Before the Battle

Outside, the night seemed to hold its breath. The pack members gathered in the main living area, finalizing their plans for the coming fight. Buffy and Andi sat on the couch, talking strategy, while Marty and TJ surveyed the map of their territory.

Jonah stood with his back to the room, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the mansion. His wolf was restless, and he could feel the weight of what was coming pressing in on him. He wasn't sure how they were going to win this fight, but one thing was certain: they were going to do it together.

No matter what it took.