“Put him there.” He points to the nearest bed, already backing toward the surgical room. “Commander, don’t let him get up. Alert me immediately if his condition changes.” His gaze drops to the crystal charm still wrapped around Ethan’s wrist. “And don’t remove that charm.”
With that, he’s gone, disappearing after Branson and Conan.
My wolf rages against the decision.Choosing someone else over my mate.
I shove her down hard. Olcan’s triage is sound. Conan is bleeding out, but Ethan is semi-conscious and breathing.
Xander lowers him onto the mattress with surprising gentleness. “I’m going to go check on Conan.”
He glances at me once. I nod, and he disappears into the surgical room.
As I approach the bed, my hand reaches for Ethan’s, needing the proof of his warmth and life.
His fingers find mine first. Weak and trembling, but intentional.
His hand curls around mine before I’m fully at his bedside, his grip loose but deliberate, like he’s spent the last of his strength making sure he could touch me.
My wolf goes quiet. Not silent — she’s never silent — but the frantic howling that’s clawed at my chest since we left the temple finally settles into something bearable. It’s a feeling close to relief, like exhaling after holding my breath for too long.
His eyes are half-lidded, glassy with exhaustion and whatever magical backlash still courses through his system. But they find my face and stay. Focused. Present.
“Did we win?” He asks softly. “Because I’m going to be fucking pissed if this was all for nothing.”
I make a sound: not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. The sound is broken yet grateful, escaping before I can cage it.
“Yes. We won.”
“I’m glad.” His thumb brushes weakly across my knuckles.
Then, his eyes flutter and lose focus, drifting toward the ceiling like he’s fighting against a current pulling him under. They drag back to my face with visible effort, and his expression shifts.
“I heard you.” Each word comes out labored. “The whole way down. In my head.” I feel a faint squeeze around my fingers. “It kept me...here.”
My chest constricts. I didn’t realize. During the frantic descent from the mountain, Ethan’s body limp and unresponsive as Xander carried him, I’d been talking to him through our bond. Not with coherent thoughts or any clear purpose. Just because. . .
Stay with me. Don’t you dare. Moon Goddess, help him.
Over and over, I had repeated this prayer combined with a command I had no authority to give.
“Well,” I say, “at least you’re capable of following one order.”
The ghost of a smile tugs at his cracked lips.
His free hand drifts upward, fingers brushing against his chest until they find the crystal charm resting there. Thependant catches the infirmary’s lamplight, throwing fractured rainbows across his throat.
“Good.” Relief colors the word. “It’s still there.”
“Olcan says not to take it off.”
Ethan nods, the motion small and exhausted. His hand drops away from the charm, landing heavy on the mattress.
From the surgical room, metal clatters against a tray. Olcan’s voice drifts through as he works to save my cousin, but I can’t make out the words. My wolf senses Conan’s pain and Akila’s panic, but leaving Ethan is impossible.
I hate that I can’t be in two places at once. But at least I know Conan isn’t alone. Xander and Branson are with Akila, Akila is with Conan, and I am exactly where I need to be.
Ethan’s gaze drifts past me to the doorway Xander carried him through. An emotion I can’t name crosses his face. Sadness, maybe. Or remorse.
“I’m sorry.”
