bChapter /bb184 /b

Eryx POV

I can’t stop the shaking of my hands, it’s impossible. I lfit her off the floor, hating that she’s on something so cold and hard. I can feel the heat of bher /bblood against my skin and the faint, broken pull of the bond that used to feel like sunlight, but now it feels like poison. It burns me, her pain still hurts me, I can feel it.

“Why can I still feel her like the bond isn’t gone?” I whisper.

My mother steps forward, and sighs. “Because his bite over your im isn’t done, he went too deep, it began to to

healed, it hasn’t sealed and destroyed it.”

So we’re still bonded, at least for now.

it

apart but because she hasn’t

My hands won’t stop shaking. It doesn’t help, I still can’t stop the tremor in my limbs. April’s head lolls against my chest, her eyes half–closed, her breathing shallow and irregr. There’s blood smeared across her inner thighs, streaking the delicate skin in bruised purples and raw reds, and I can see

the fresh bite at her shoulder still leaking crimson.

I don’t look away from her face.

“Eryx,” my mother says, her voice sharp and urgent. “We really need to get her back now, you can’t help her here, it will take too long for the doctor to

I nod without speaking, because I can’t trust my voice not to break. My father is already ahead of us, he’s clearing the path back to the tunnel, growling at the guards to move faster. They don’t they stop hesitating and move faster, and I follow, each step jarring through my legs as I hold her tighter, afraid she’ll slip through my fingers if I loosen my grip for even a second.

The magic of the portal hums faintly as we near, still open, and waiting for us. A pulse of warmth brushes against my skin as we cross the threshold of the chamber, and my mother presses her hand to my back. “Go,” she says. “Now. We will be right behind you.”

I don’t hesitate, instead I run.

The shimmer of the magic res the moment I step through, the world twisting around me. For a second, everything is weightless and light, then gravity crashes back, and my boots m into solid earth again.

The scent of our pack grounds fills my nose. She’s finally somewhere safe, I take a deep breath, breathing in the pine, damp moss, and the faint sweetness of summer wind, and I keep moving, not slowing, not looking behind me.

“Eryx,” my mother calls from behind, her voice breathless as she follows through the portal.

need bto /bclose it.”

I hesitate, just for a moment. I nce down at April in my arms. Her skin is mm

her lips tinged blue. The bond between us flutters like ba /bthread in ba /bstorm, barely there. I shift my grip, pressing her against my chest with one arm as I lift the other and summon the power of the portal. My mother bis /bright, I know she is. If I leave it open it could give Rn and easy entry to our pack.

The threads of magic burn through my fingertips, answering with a sluggish pulse. It takes everything in me to pull it closed, to seal it tight. As the bfinal /bshimmer of light fades from the air, I spin back and sprint toward the heart of thepound.

The guards part without question. Some of them nce at April, and their eyes widen, but no one stops me. They see the blood. They see the way bher /bbody doesn’t move.

I cross the open courtyard and burst through the medical bay doors, shouting as I do.

“I need help! Now!”

Healers rush forward. iOne /iof them tries to take her from me, but I snarl without meaning to, holding her closer. “She needs bhelp /bbnow/b. bDo /bbnot /bbwaste /bbtime /basking questions.”

bA /bnurse with graying hair and calm eyes nods sharply. “Bring her here. We weren’t about to bask /bbquestions/bb./bb” /b

b1/3 /b

bSun/bb, /bb270 /b

Iy her down on the nearest bed, and the moment I do, I feel like I’ve been cut open. Her body leaves mine and the bond bgives /ba violent btug/bb, /blike it’s trying to tear itself loose. My knees nearly buckle, but I stay standing. I have to stay standing, I have to be here, for her..

“She’s not breathing properly,” one of the healers says. “Get the blood cleared, someone check for internal bleeding. Start the btransfusion /bbnow /b

I hear them, but I can’t stop staring at her face.

April’s eyes flutter for a second, but they don’t open.

“April,” I whisper, crouching beside the bed, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you, I promise that you’re safe. I’m here.

There’s no response, so I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I should have known. I should have fought harder.” My voice cracks, the words catching in my throat. “Please… bjust /bstay. Just hold on.”

Someone moves beside me. It’s my mother, I can sense her magic already. She rests a hand on my shoulder, gently. “You’ve done all you bcan/bb, /bEryx. Let them work, try not to get in the way you will make it harder.”

“I can’t leave her.”

“I know, I’m not saying get out of here,” she says softly. “You don’t have to leave. Just breathe and if they need space take a step back.”

I focus on April instead, because anything else, my father pacing the hallway, the way my mother’s voice trembles behind her calm, the smell of blood in the room, will break me if I let it.

The healers speak quickly, passing terms I only half understand.

O“She’s lost too much… ruptured… signs of repeated trauma…”

I flinch, the words are said and with each I flinch hating what he did to her.

The words hits me like a de to the chest. I close my eyes, trying to push the image away, the memory of her naked, curled on that stone floor, bruises rising like shadows on iher /iiskin/i, bite marks carved into her throat and thighs. My hands curl into fists.

“I swear to the gods, I’ll kill him,” I whisper, voice low. I don’t care the risk, he’s dying.

“We will,” my father says from behind. “But not yet. First, she lives. You need to make sure she’s healed before you go for revenge.”

Minutes stretch. The room smells like antiseptic and copper. I watch them stitch herb, /bclean her woundsb, /bconnect IV lines and whisper between themselves. One of them nces at me, and I see the pity in his eyes.

“Will she live?” I ask, unable to istop /imyself.

“She’s strong,” he answers, and that’s all he says.

I inod/i, because I have to. I look at her again, my chest aching.

I remember the first time I saw her, how her eyes shed when sheughed, how her smile had made everything around bher /bbbrighter/bb. /bbIt’s /ball bright /bbthere /bfrom the time we spent together, I remember her in the moonlight the night she showed me ithe /istars above her pack’s cliffsb, /bbhow /bbshe /bbsaid /bbshe /bbalways /bbfelt /blike something was missing but didn’t know what. remember her kissing me and whispering, “Maybe it’s you.b” /bI believed bthat/bb, /bbI /bbbelieved /bbit /bbso /bbdamn /bmuch.

“I’m still here,” I whisper now, leaning closer to her. “I’m bnot /bgoing anywhere. So bdon’t /byou dare leave meb./bb” /bbI /bbcan’t /blost bher/b. bNot /bbnow/bb, /bbit’s /bbtoo /bbsoon/b.

The bond sparks faintly. I feel it again, like a flicker of heat in ba /bcold broom/bb, /bbnot /bbstrong /bbut bnot /bbgone /bbeither/b. bIt’s /bbstill /bbthere/bb. /bbStill /bbfighting/bb. /b

bShe’s /bstill fighting.

10:10 bSun/b, b27 /bbJul /bG

“I’ve

got you,” I tell

her

again,

and this

time,

it’s a

promise carved into

Bone.

Maybe

she can

hear me,

Thope

she bcan/bb, /b

I hope

she hears my

voice and fathe

for me.

“No one is going to take you from ollime. Not again.” /li/ol

his

Outside, the wind howls

fists clenched as he

mother windows. My against the stares at

he’s the door like willing

sits

someone

in the corner,

to try

quietly weepinging through it.

behind

a hand she

presses to her

mouthb. /b

My father is silent

But I don’t

tlook att them, I only watch her.. and

11 pray

that it’s enough.

N

AD