Her Pack Revealed

Her Pack Revealed Sterling Bay Shifters Series Book One Lexie Scott This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Copyright © 2023 Lexie Scott All rights reserved. ISBN-13: 979-8388773777 No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author. Cover Art by Giusy D'Anna www.premadebookcoversmarket.com Contents Also By Lexie Scott Exclusive Content Foreword 1. Kali 2. Rainer 3. Jett 4. Kali 5. Rainer 6. Kali 7. Jett 8. Kali 9. Tracker 10. Kali 11. Jett 12. Kali 13. Rainer 14. Tracker 15. Kali 16. Kali 17. Jett 18. Rainer 19. Kali 20. Kali 21. Jett 22. Kali 23. Kali 24. Kali 25. Kali Epilogue Sneak Peek Her Pack Fractured Also By Lexie Scott Find out more! Also By Lexie Scott Sterling Bay Shifters Her Pack Revealed Her Pack Fractured Drexel Academy Bound by Magic Seized by Magic Eclipsed by Magic Severed by Magic Conquered by Magic Sorcerer’s Society Secrets in Her Eyes Read Between the Lies Anything but the Truth Shadow of a Doubt Loyal to a Fault Nothing Left to Hide Leap with No Regrets Fear is the Key Betrayed by Your Love For exclusive content and the most up to date news, sign up for Lexie’s Readers club A Note from the Author This book has darker tones than my previous works and contains mentions and flashbacks of physical and emotional abuse as well as violence. Reader’s discretion is advised. Kali I’m freezing my tits off. The weather dropped over the last week, going from normal human winter to frigid Alaska winter. I thought I was prepared. I thought I could handle it. People warned me and suggested I buy a thicker coat graded for lower temperatures, buy a car to get around, and have a space heater in my bedroom. None of those were options. It was too cold to leave my little sleeping bag, but I had a study session starting soon. Maybe if I layered enough, the walk to the bus stop wouldn’t be too bad. I eyed my worn duffle while coming up with a plan. I could wear my pajama pants under my jeans and triple up on shirts. It wouldn’t be enough, but I had to make do with what I had. A thinning blanket, pajama pants, and two pairs of jeans—one dark blue and one black—plus an amazing thrift store find, and my main survival tool, an old but durable parka. Those, along with my used backpack, five long-sleeved shirts, four pairs of socks, toothbrush, hairbrush, gloves, beanie, hand-me-down flip phone, a pair of boots I found at a garage sale, and a one-pound bag of baking soda, were the only possessions I had. It wasn’t much, but it was what I needed to survive. Thanks to a tip from a woman in the last shelter where I lived, I knew of an amazing number of things I could do with my little bag of baking soda. For just seventy-two cents, I had toothpaste, mouthwash, deodorant, face cleanser, shoe odor eliminator, and a last resort dish and laundry detergent. This wasn’t the dream life I envisioned all those nights, locked in darkness, but I was free. Every single item around me were things I got on my own. Except the three textbooks sitting on the corner of the kitchen counter. Those were rentals. I didn’t have to pay for them since my scholarship covered tuition and books. The heater turned off, reaching the sixty-three-degree cutoff set by the building manager. I snatched up the blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders and head as I closed my eyes. College wasn’t what I expected, either. From the shows and books I consumed in my life before, things had changed. I pictured study sessions with friends and pizza, parties on the weekend, and a decorated dorm room I would share with the girl that would eventually be my lifelong best friend. Instead, I had a poorly insulated, decrepit, borderline uninhabitable, one-hundred-square-foot room with a bathroom I shared with the others who lived on this floor. At least I had a kitchen sink and a microwave the previous resident left behind. The latter was inconsistent and sounded one second away from exploding, but so far it did its job. One day, I would afford somewhere bigger, cleaner, and, most importantly, safer. To save money, I lived far from campus and where I worked. My apartment was about seven blocks from the bus stop I needed to reach those two places, so it was as convenient-ish. The walk home, especially at night, was what I hated most. Even in the summer, when the weather wouldn’t freeze you to the bone, I dreaded the distance. None of my neighbors in the building or the surrounding area were fellow students. I unknowingly moved to the area that supplied people with drug dealers, prostitution, and every other means to service people’s vices. I doubt I would have changed my mind if I’d known before signing the lease. It was my only option, and so far, no one had bothered me. I kept my head down and minded my business, and others did the same. But I might have to look for something else soon. I peeked out of my cocoon to glare at the paper I found on my front door when I got home from school this afternoon. A late rent notice. I was a day late, and my landlord, Dale, was already hounding me. As if he had a line of people waiting to move into this shithole. He ignored every single one of my maintenance requests, including the one about my included fridge not working and the broken water heater for the bathroom. Why should I have to pay when he couldn’t provide