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Halle’s arrogance left Dove a shell of herself.
They were trying to help her, and I understand that on some level, but I can never forgive them for what they did.
The girls were new to magic, and they didn’t understand what they were doing when they tried to repair Dove’s mind. They should have left her alone. Instead, they shattered her completely. Dove has remained catatonic for over a month now, but I cling desperately to the belief that she’s still here. That I’ll somehow bring her out again one day.
“Stop.” I grimace as pain shoots through my belly.
As she lowers her hand, the power around us abating, I know she heard me. Hope surges inside me—she’s there, somewhere, fighting to come back to me.
“Dove?” I whisper her name, begging her to answer me, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t look in my direction, either.
Disappointment and hurt worse than the wounds covering my body flood me. It is as if she died, yet her body is still here, and I don’t know how to deal with that.
Cade explodes out of the undergrowth, his large wolf an undeniable presence as he skids to a halt and takes in the scene before him. I sink back into the dirt, trying to steady my breathing as my chest tightens. Will I ever have Dove back?
A high-pitched yip has my head rolling across the ground as Cade’s red eyes turn to me. I don’t need the pack link to recognize the anger in them. He’s not hiding it.
His change from wolf to human happens between one slow blink and the next. Naked, his torso scarred in several places, Cade comes to my side. I barely pay him any attention as he drops to his knees; instead, I watch Dove until he pulls my hands away from my wound and presses it hard enough to make me see double.
I suck in a breath through my teeth before snarling at him, “Easy.”
I can feel the fury radiating from him as he takes in the blood working down my side. It’s not a trickle, but it’s not flowing either. Most of what I’m feeling is a side effect of the magic used on me.
“This is why we are meant to patrol in pairs, you stubborn asshole.”
I can’t argue with him, mostly because my tongue feels too thick in my mouth and I can hardly move it. My eyes slide past him toward Dove, who is still standing in the same position, as if awaiting her next instruction.
I hate it. I hate what they turned her into, and for what? Dove is worse off now than she was when she first came to us. The Order controlled her, but she was coming back to herself. There was a spark, a fight inside her, and all that has been doused. She became who she is now because of us.
Cade follows my line of sight, twisting to look over his shoulder. I don’t miss the shudder that goes through him as he takes her in. It’s no secret that my pack brothers don’t like her. They fear what they don’t understand, and they see Dove as a threat to their mates.
“How did she get here?”
I shake my head because I have no idea, and as much as I need to protect Dove, I’m very aware that I have no idea what I’m protecting her from—the Order, or herself.
Chapter 2
Jackson
Cade leads us back through the woods, our captive slung over his shoulder as I stumble after him. He’s pissed at me, and sets a punishing pace through the undergrowth, muttering under his breath the entire time about how fucking stupid I am.
He’s right. Coming out here alone was dumb, but my pack brothers have made it clear how they feel about me—and Dove. Why would I want to be out here with one of them, knowing what they think?
“Is he still breathing?” I wince as I lose my footing on the uneven ground, stumbling.
Somehow, I manage to stay on my feet, which is a miracle in itself. Every inch of me hurts, and every step I take sends a jolt of pain through my torso.
“I’m not stopping to check,” Cade rumbles. He’s clearly still ticked off, because he adds, “Asshole.”
I don’t offer words to calm the beast inside him. There’s nothing I can say. He thinks I’ve lost my damn mind, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
As I watch Dove, who is following behind us, pain that has nothing to do with my injuries spreads through my chest.
What if this is as good as it gets?
I’ll never walk away from her, no matter what the long-term prognosis is, but I cling to the hope that she may recover in time or that I can find someone to put the pieces they broke back together.
I tear my gaze away, unable to look at her any longer without my ire growing. The anger inside me is a living, breathing entity that I’m losing control of. I don’t know how much longer I can contain it. The urge to lose my shit and rage consumes me a little more every day.
