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She blinked at Nick. “Y-you mean, he should’ve died?”
He gave a brief nod. “In my vision, he wrecked when the creature attacked and was killed when he hit a tree and broke his neck. Tonight, he managed to avoid the tree.”
“But he could still . . . Have you seen a new outcome?” she asked anxiously.
“I’m afraid not. All we can do is wait.”
As endless minutes dragged by, she hated sitting, not knowing what was going on in surgery. At one point Rowan took her hand and Jacee squeezed it like a lifeline, concentrating on the fragile bond between herself and Micah. Exhaustion and the day took their toll, however, and she wasn’t aware she’d started to doze.
Until the bond began to flicker, like a lightbulb losing power. And finally burning out.
Instantly awake, she bolted upright in her chair. “Micah?”
“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked.
“Our bond,” she gasped, pushing to her feet. Frantic, she clutched her chest, seeking the golden thread. But there was only a gaping void where her mate should have been. “Micah!”
Around Jacee, the others stirred. Nick stood as well, and started toward her. But before anyone could stop her, she was out of the room, searching for her mate. The only one who would ever complete her. She set her coyote’s senses free, seeking him out, ignoring the staff who attempted to stop her from entering a set of double doors marked RESTRICTED AREA.
Pushing through them, she followed her mate’s scent to another door halfway down the hall marked OR-3 and barged inside. The sight of a team of doctors and nurses standing over her beloved mate, administering CPR, made her blood run cold.
“No.” The word emerged as a sob, and her hand went over her mouth. “Micah?”
One of the doctors raised her head and snapped, “Somebody get her out of here.”
She recognized the voice as Melina’s, but had eyes only for the man on the operating table. His face was obscured by the oxygen mask, his eyes closed, dark brown hair like an ink spill on the white of the sheets underneath him.
This couldn’t be possible. Her mate couldn’t be dead.
A howl rose from the depths of her soul, and she shifted.
And cried out her grief to the heavens.
Twelve
The coyote’s howl was distant. But it still reached the quiet room where Nick waited with Micah’s small family. High and mournful, it caused chill bumps to break out on Nick’s arms, and dread to darken his heart.
Rowan’s face was pale as she stood, trembling. “No. Nick. Tell me it’s not true. Not after all he’s been through. Tell me it doesn’t end like this.”
“I wish I could,” he said miserably. “I just don’t know.”
She stared at Nick, then looked at Aric. “I have to go to him.”
Her mate shook his head, his expression sad, but his voice firm. “No, sweetheart. The docs have their hands full right now. They’ll tell us—”
“I want to see my brother! You can’t keep me from him!”
She started for the door, but Aric stopped her, wrapping her in his arms. Struggling, she put up a good fight at first, but soon sagged in his arms and let him hold her. Her shoulders shook with sobs as Aric whispered comforting words they all hoped were true.
Rowan was right, Nick thought. It wasn’t supposed to end like this for Micah. None of this was fair. He tried to summon a vision, but couldn’t force one. They didn’t work that way.
“Hold her,” he said to Aric. “I’m going to see if I can find out what’s going on.”
Aric nodded grimly, and Nick strode out of the room.
* * *
“Jacee, we need your help!”
