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Her hands never stray from Caelan’s face, her fingers delicately stroking his skin like she’s soothing him.

She looks as pained as she sounds, eyes squeezed shut, face set in an expression so determined I don’t dare do anything to break her focus. Some primal part of me is horrified by the idea, begging me to keep quiet. Stay silent, so she can⁠—

So she can…what? What is she even doing?

“Let me in,” she pleads, voice cracking with emotion. Something in my chest pulls, and once again, I bring my fist to my sternum, pressing back against the uncomfortable feeling.

A feeling that’s forgotten when Idril’s hands spasm, making me tense in alarm. With a pained whimper, she sways forward. Part of me wants to reach out, but I curl my hand into a fist as she leans in, swaying closer and closer to my Packmate until finally, with an relieved sigh, she presses her forehead against his.

It’s a fucking heartbreaking scene. My stomach swoops and my vision blurs with tears and even though I tell myself to look away… I can’t.

“Please,” she breathes. “Please, Caelan. Please.”

Fates… I wish I knew what she was begging for.

I wish I could give it to her.

I’m so lost in the scene playing out in front of me, I don’t notice anything else going on. Not until Idril lets out a startled yelp and her head jerks up and her neck’s wrenched back.

A breath later, the rest of her follows.

Eyes wide, I glance over and find her hanging in the air. Behind her Gav stands, two hands wrapped around her waist.

I expect her to fight his hold, but she doesn’t.

She slumps over, body limp, feet dangling two feet off the floor, held suspended by hands so large, they span the entirety of her stomach.

Her lashes flutter, and her neck lolls to the side. With what looks like extreme effort, she lifts her head. Her glassy eyes bounce around, like she’s seeking something familiar.

Her gaze latches onto mine.

The pain and anguish staring back at me is so fucking real—so fucking visceral—it physically knocks me back a step.

Which means I run right into the fucking wolven.

Again.

He shoves me away from him, pushing forward—intent on only one thing. Getting to Gav.

Getting to his Omega.

“Hands. Off,” he snarls through clenched teeth, and the Alpha authority he’s emitting is enough to make me nauseous. Even Gav’s affected, if the way he immediately releases the Omega is any indication.

She only falls half a meter, but when her feet hit the floor, her knees buckle. The only thing preventing her from collapsing into a heap is the arm Gav wraps around her waist by instinct to keep her from falling.

Fates, she looks drained. Like she’s had the life sucked out of her.

My breath catches and I look closer. Her normally pale skin is grey, devoid of vitality. Her lips are the same, pale and chapped. Dark purple shadows are smudged beneath her eyes. Shadows that I’m fucking positive weren’t there five minutes ago.

What the fuck just happened?

Shaking, Idril blindly reaches out, searching for something to steady herself. Her hand lands on a chair—the same chair I’d been sitting in earlier.

“I’m fine,” she croaks, pushing weakly against Gav's hold.

I turn to Dax, who’s been suspiciously quiet since Alpha Commanding the whole fucking room, but he’s not looking at her.

He’s looking at Caelan.