Knox takes a deep breath, clearing his throat softly. “Skyla,” he says gently. “I’m Knox, your pack alpha. This is Alex,” he nods toward me, “Tadeo, and Dakota.”
She doesn’t say a word or lift her head. She sways slightly where she stands like a leaf about to fall. Then the wind shifts, and she shivers.
And it’s not a little shiver. Her whole bodytrembles.
That’s when I really notice how cold it is—and how little she’s wearing.
My jaw tightens as irritation kills some of my excitement.
They made her come out like that? In this?
Before I can pull off my own shirt, Knox is alreadyunbuttoning his flannel. He doesn’t say anything as he steps forward and slowly drapes the warm fabric over Skyla’s shoulders. She lets it happen, but she’s still trembling.
I want to say something—anything to soothe her—but I’ve got no fucking clue what to say.
Because now I’mreallylooking at her.
Her makeup’s uneven, clumsily done, like it was thrown on in a rush. And it’s not hiding much. There’s an old bruise near her left eye—faded, but still visible. Her knees are red and raw, like she’s spent too much time kneeling on hard ground. And then there’s the bandage on her neck.
That must be her old mating bite.
I don’t understand why they’d cover it. But then I see the little pinpricks of blood beneath the edge of the gauze.
Why the fuck is she bleeding?
Rage burns through me so fast, I nearly choke on it.
What the hell did they do to her?
My fists clench, and I have to force myself not to rip off in the direction of whoever let her walk out here practically naked, scared, and fucking bleeding.
Sensing my rage, Knox glances at me—he must feel it too. I can see it in the tension across his shoulders. But his voice stays calm. Steady.For her.“I’m sure you’re tired,” he says, leaning down to try to catch Skyla’s eyes. “Would you like to go home?”
Her chin dips slightly lower, like the weight of his question is too much. Knox hesitates, then looks at me, eyes asking if we’re doing the right thing.
I wish I had the answer.
Dakota leans toward Tadeo, whispering, “Is she okay?”
But Tadeo doesn’t answer.
Knox crouches a little, lowers his voice. “Can I carry you?”
She doesn’t say a word.
She shivers again, and I realize how pale her lips are, and her feet are bare. They’re dirty, scratched, and completely exposed in the chilly weather.
“Come on.” Knox bends and picks her up bridal style, carefully lifting her like she’s made of china and might shatter at any second.
Skyla doesn’t resist as he settles her against him. In fact, she doesn’t do anything. She’s limp in his arms, eyes open but distant. Staring past us. Through us.
And we walk.
No one talks. No one jokes. Not even Dakota. The trail back to camp stretches out like it’s suddenly longer than it was an hour ago. Everything’s too heavy now.
I keep my eyes on Skyla’s face, trying to catch something. A blink. A twitch. A breath that meansshe’s in there.
But she looks…gone.
