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Archer steps up beside her next to the bed, his voice a low murmur. “Have you been able to do… anything?”
Hope shakes her head gravely. “No. Whatever injuries he sustained from the magic, it’s beyond my abilities as a healer. There are no lacerations. No bleeding to be found.”
“It’s the spell itself.” I speak up, my voice cracking. “It’s inside him, poisoning him.”
Archer’s jaw tightens. “Perhaps there’s a witch injured but still alive on our streets that might know how to fix it.”
“I’ll go look,” Ridge offers, giving Archer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. He strides from the room, but not before I see that he’s just as affected by Malcolm’s situation as I am.
It’s hard to watch a strong man be weak. I imagine it’s even harder when you’re a strong man yourself, as if you’re looking down a tunnel toward your own possible future.
Archer’s green gaze meets mine. “Sable. Is… is there anything you can do?”
My blood runs cold, my stomach dropping. “No.” I swallow. “I mean, not that I know of. I only have the one book that Gwen gave me, and there are no healing spells in it, nothing for health at all, just a bunch of charms and hexes, lots of binding…”
I trail off as I realize I’m rambling. I want to help. I want to do something, anything, to keep Malcolm from dying.
My mate’s bloodshot eyes take on an almost manic gleam. “Can’t you just lay hands on him? Do something?”
A fissure opens up inside me, reminding me how little I know. How little control I really have, no matter what happened today on the battlefield.
None of that was under my control. I’m just lucky that all the anger and pain inside me channeled toward taking the witches out and not something worse.
And rage won’t help me now. I need control, experience—and I still don’t have it.
“I don’t know how,” I admit, my heart breaking. “I’m not good enough.”
“Archer.” Hope’s calm voice chases away some of the mania in his gaze, and he slumps against the edge of the bed as she continues speaking. “Sweetheart, Malcolm has been sick for a real long time. We’ve been planning for the eventuality of his death. It’s just… a bit more premature than we expected.”
“Hope’s right.” Malcolm’s voice is gruff as he opens his eyes. “My time has come, son.”
“You don’t know that. Ridge might find someone—”
Malcolm reaches out and places a hand on Archer’s arm. “Son. I need you to be strong now. More than ever before. You hear me?”
Archer nods once, a tear slipping over the edge of his eyelashes.
Then the dying alpha looks at me. With his other hand, he gestures for me to come closer.
Tears fall freely from my own eyes as I join the two of them at the bed. Malcolm looks so small and pale. I wish I knew him before the disease took hold of him. I bet he was a hell of a man. The complete opposite of the kind of man my uncle was. Someone who would’ve cared for me as if I were his own.
His hand feels papery thin in mine as he says, “You’re good for my boy. I’m glad he has you. He’ll need your strength when the sun rises.”
I squeeze Malcolm’s fingers, my voice strangled as I promise, “He’ll have it.”
“You take care of him, Sable.”
Archer looks away, tears dripping from his chin but his face so stoic I think he might fracture into pieces. I put my arm around his waist, trying to bolster him with what little strength I have left. “I will, Malcolm. I promise.”
The old man smiles at me, and for a moment, his face looks younger, healthier. Then he closes his eyes and takes a ragged breath, as if all that talking has worn him out.
Ridge appears suddenly in the doorway, magic still rippling around him from the shift. He doesn’t even need to speak for us to know that no witch remains alive within pack boundaries. The look of despair on his scruffy face is enough.
Malcolm glances at the North Pack Alpha and nods as if he expected this. “You four men need to take care of one another.”
Trystan and Ridge exchange surprised glances, and Dare takes a single step closer to Malcolm’s side, bowing his head in acknowledgment.
“It’s very clear to me,” Malcolm goes on, “that Sable has become more than just your mate. She’s the bond between our packs. While your mate bond is… untraditional, it seems that maybe you’re exactly what the packs need. After all, it’s only by joining together that we all managed to hold off utter destruction today. We need each other. You need each other.”
