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“Ezra.” Levi grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard. “Ezra, look at me.”

I drag my eyes up to his with tears still running down my face and brace for the hatred. My blood is smeared across his jaw. If he kills me where I kneel, I won’t blame him. Mother Fate knows I’d welcome it.

But his scent carries no hatred. All I smell on him is sweat and a worn-down wolf. There’s an understanding in his eyes I don’t deserve.

He eases his grip. “I shouldn’t have pushed your dragon like that,” he admits. “I knew you were Stormscale. I knew what could happen if you lost control. This is my fault as much as yours.”

I turn back to my mate. Her nightgown is scorched black where the bolt struck. “How can you say that?” I choke out. “I hurt her. I hurt Aya⁠—”

“And we’re going to get her help,” Levi cuts me off. “Right now. The best thing you can do for her is calm down and focus.”

Jacob walks over and frowns down at us. “I told you both this was a bad idea,” he mutters. If my dragon had any fight left in him, smoke would be pouring out of my ears.

Levi snarls at him. “Shut the fuck up. She’s my daughter. This is not your business.”

Jacob raises his hands and steps back without another word.

Kane and Micah crouch over Aya to check her injuries. “She’s breathing steady,” Micah says. “But she needs to get to Wintermoon Medical.”

“A drive will take too long,” I tell them. “Let me take her. I can fly her there in minutes.”

Levi searches my face before he steps aside. I gather Aya up and cradle her against my chest. Her arm hangs limp over my elbow. My dragon’s howling drops to a thin whine. I quit reaching for the mate bond and listen to her heart instead. It’s slow, but it keeps beating.

Nia breaks free and rushes at us with her robe flapping open. She smells of pure terror. “My baby,” she gasps as she reaches for Aya. “What happened to my baby⁠—”

Gabriel and Kane catch Nia and keep her back.

“I’ll meet you there,” Levi says to me. “That wasn’t a fair fight, boy, and we both know it. We’ll deal with it after she wakes up. Let me calm Nia down and put some clothes on.” He pauses, then asks, “Do you want a pair of sweatpants?”

I don’t answer him. I clutch Aya to me while the shift ripples through my shoulders and my wings push free. I launch into the sky and climb hard over the trees, even with pain ripping down my back on every downstroke.

Wintermoon Medical isn’t far by air, but tonight the flight takes forever. I tuck her face under my chin to block the wind. Her breath puffs warm against my neck. The bond doesn’t get any stronger up here. My dragon has pulled down deep and won’t answer when I call him. I’m flying this alone.

Please, Mother Fate, I’m begging you. Please don’t take her from me.

When the lights of the medical center come up below me, I drop fast and hit the ground outside the entrance. My parents and my uncle Sam are waiting in front of the doors.

My mother glances at Aya, then up at my face. I’ve never seen her this angry. She wasn’t this mad when I set fire to the cabin as a hatchling, or when I got into fights at the Academy. Her scent burns sharp with it.

Sam’s fiery red eyes are glowing. My father smells heavy with disappointment. It guts me worse than any wound from Levi’s wolf.

“Help me.” I hold Aya out to them on shaking arms. “Please. Help her.”

Sam takes her from me, and she doesn’t stir. My dragon whimpers from wherever he’s gone. My mother steps in and slaps me hard across the back of my head. She hasn’t done that since I was young and stupid.

“My foolish son,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I’d say your dragon is full-grown, but he still has the mind of a hatchling. I am so disappointed in you.”

“Claudia,” my father warns. She shuts her mouth and keeps glaring at me.

Sam and my mother rush through the doors with Aya. I’m left outside in the night air with my father. He takes in my naked body and the blood still dripping down my skin from wounds that are already closing.

He pulls a pair of sweatpants out of a bag at his feet and tosses them over. I catch the pants and fumble them on.

“We need to get your dragon under control,” my father says. “Before he kills your mate.”

I stare at the ground instead of facing him. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t tell if he means it to comfort or condemn me. Either way, I deserve worse.

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