Page 42 of Bite for Sore Eyes

Torren squeezed her fingers, pouring every ounce of strength and love he possessed through the mate bond. He could feel Rath doing the same—their combined Alpha energy wrapping around Lana like a shield, trying to hold her together through sheer force of will. Her grip was weak, but it was there. She was still fighting.

Could their bond actually help?

The thought flickered through his mind like desperate hope. He'd heard stories—legends, really—of completed bonds creating miraculous things. But those were fairy tales, weren't they? Pretty stories to comfort grieving families? But right now, staring down at Lana's pale face, Torren was willing to believe in any miracle that might save her.

The guest room door burst open with enough force to rattle the hinges. Kelly rushed in first, her healer's bag already in hand, followed closely by Emry with her medical tablet clutched against her chest. Both women took in the scene with professional efficiency—Lana's shallow breathing, her glassy-eyed stare, and the way she seemed to be fading before their eyes.

"What's happening?" Emry demanded, moving to Lana's other side.

"She collapsed," Rath said tightly. "Says this episode feels different from the others."

Kelly was already pulling out a penlight, checking Lana's pupils with practiced movements. "Dilated and sluggish response," she murmured, then lifted Lana's eyelids to examine the blood vessels. "Emry, look at this."

The two healers exchanged a glance that made Torren's bear prowl restlessly. Whatever they were seeing, it wasn't good.

"We need to get her into the bathtub," Emry announced suddenly. "Ice water. We need to shock her system. Reset it."

"Reset what?" Torren growled, even as he was already moving to lift Lana from the bed.

"Her neural pathways are cascading," Kelly explained, rushing toward the ensuite bathroom. "Like a computer system crashing—we need to force a reboot before the damage becomes permanent."

Rath was there beside him, helping support Lana's weight as they carried her toward the bathroom. Her head lolled against Torren's shoulder, and he could feel her heartbeat stuttering against his chest—too fast, then too slow, then racing again. The sound of rushing water filled the air as Kelly cranked the cold tap to full blast. Emry was dumping ice from the guest room's small refrigerator into the rapidly filling tub, the cubes cracking and bobbing in the frigid water.

"This is going to be brutal," Kelly warned, testing the temperature with her hand. "But it might be the only thing that saves her."

Torren didn't hesitate. If ice water could save his mate, he'd dive into a frozen lake. He stepped into the tub fully clothed, the shock of the cold water stealing his breath, then reached up to help Rath lower Lana into his arms. The moment the ice water touched her skin, Lana's body convulsed with a sharp gasp. Her eyes flew wide, her pupils contracting as the cold hit her nervous system like a sledgehammer. But she was responding.

Rath climbed in beside them without a moment's hesitation, his larger frame displacing water that sloshed over the tub's edges. The cold was vicious—needle-sharp and unforgiving—but Torren barely noticed. All his attention was focused on the woman between them, watching color slowly return to her cheeks as the frigid temperature forced her failing systems back online.

"We need to keep her in there for five minutes," Kelly said firmly.

"I'm so cold," Lana whispered, her voice stronger now, more present.

"I know," Rath said, his arm tightening around her waist. "But we're here. We're not going anywhere."

Torren started counting in his head—sixty seconds, one hundred twenty, one hundred eighty—while keeping his gaze locked on Lana's face. Five minutes of this bone-deep cold to reset whatever had gone wrong in her brilliant, beautiful, misfiring mind.

"Tell me about when you and Torren were cubs," Lana said suddenly, her teeth chattering but her eyes more focused than they'd been since the episode started.

Rath's surprised laugh was rough with relief. "You want to hear about us causing trouble?"

"Always."

"Well," Rath began, his voice taking on the warm cadence of shared memory, "there was this one time when we were seven years old. Torren decided he wanted to know what would happen if we let all of Rosie's chickens loose in the market square."

Despite the ice water and Lana's illness and the terror still clawing at his chest, Torren found himself grinning. "It was a scientific experiment."

"It was chaos," Rath corrected. "Chickens everywhere, vendors chasing them with nets, and Rosie shouting at the top of her lungs that she was going to tan our hides."

Lana let out a small laugh—weak but real—and Torren's heart soared. She was still with them. Still fighting. The sound was better than any symphony, more precious than any victory he'd ever claimed.

Four minutes. Three. Two.

Finally, Kelly nodded. "That's enough. Let's get her out."

They lifted Lana from the tub together, water streaming from their soaked clothes, and wrapped her immediately in the thick towels Kelly and Emry had ready. Her shivering was violent now, but her eyes were clear and tracking normally.

"How do you feel?" Kelly asked, checking her pulse again.