Page 8 of Shattered Soulmates

The fallout from infidelity is just as devastating for shifters as it is for humans. It harms individuals, mates, families, and the entire circle of relationships. It wounds not only spouses but also children, in-laws, friends, the wolf within, and even the affair partners. This betrayal diminishes dignity and leaves those who indulge in it devoid of honor. You live a selfish lie, with no honest connection to anyone.

For nearly three years, I’ve been fighting to eradicate Cheating Mate Syndrome. My petitions to the Stone Mountain Kingdom’s Elders Council to officially recognize CMS and RMS as forms of abuse have made little progress. Swaying antiquated mindsets has proven nearly impossible.

Creating change in Wolfdom is painfully slow, thanks to those who turn a blind eye. Since the Elders Council refuses to acknowledge the problem or pass laws to protect victims, I wield the only weapons I have against this plague: saving lives and ceaseless, unapologetic education.

As a result, my biggest challenges in eliminating CMS are ignorance and apathy. Most aren’t aware or simply don’t care that it’s triggered by an unfaithful mate, and discussing it is too taboo. The victim often suffers in silence, either unsure of what’s happening to them or too ashamed to speak up, blaming themselves.

The physical effects on the body are severe and often incomprehensible. Symptoms typically begin with nausea, vomiting, dizziness, headaches, and sensations of burning or flames throughout the body. Sharp abdominal pain follows, along with bruising and bloody lesions across the torso and chest. If left untreated, it willprogress to convulsions, catatonia, coma, and eventually death.

The episodes are usually brief, typically lasting only as long as the tryst. Unfortunately, they occur every time. The more regular or closely spaced the sexual encounters, the greater the damage inflicted on the victim. Symptoms appear within minutes to hours in severe cases. In others, they build over weeks and months, depending on the frequency and duration of entanglements.

Just ten years ago, CMS was unnamed and unknown, and most victims didn’t survive. The same was true for RMS. Today, death from either condition is avoidable. The key, once again, is awareness, something I can’t stress enough.

I also opened a non-profit shelter, supported by the hospital, the city, and generous donations from my uncle. It provides refuge for victims of all forms of abuse, including CMS, RMS, elder abuse, mate abuse, pup abuse, and more. While the shelter houses 99% females and pups, there are also a few males.

Even with our advanced treatments, we still lose one patient out of a hundred. The odds are better now than they used to be, but I don't want to lose even one tosomething so preventable. This poor female… she might be that one.

Until CMS and RMS are formally recognized as abuse, I’ll continue doing what I do best. As the top specialist in this field, I’ll spend my days and nights tirelessly healing victims and saving lives.

After scrubbing in, I touch the patient's forehead before putting on my gloves. A brief glimpse of her older and alive, her eyes open, brushes against my inner sight, and I smile. "Okay, guys, she’s going to make it. But we have to work for it."

I have a gift. Sometimes, when I make skin-to-skin contact, I can see the future. This little lady has potential, but it will be hard-won for all of us, so I call for vitals and jump right in.

The team initiates another blood transfusion and attaches an IV with our miracle drug, Amra (named after the alchemist who developed it, Dr. Amaris). It negates the effects of cheating on the mate's body and eases the symptoms of Rejected Mate Syndrome (RMS).

Luckily, this female had access to Amra, probably because we’ve been handing out samples like candy. Given her condition, it likely saved her life. I'm just glad someone recognized the signs and acted quickly.

The moment the first drops of blood enter her system, I see the transition begin. Shifter physiology is built for survival and works faster than a human’s. Within seconds, her oxygen saturation rises to 84%. Her pulse, still thready, stabilizes slightly. The bluish tint to her lips fades, and a healthier pink flushes her cheeks, as her chest rises with deeper, more regular breaths.

Unfortunately, she’s still actively losing blood. Thick, dark fluid seeps through the pressure dressings they’ve applied to her torso. The IV influx is holding her, buying a little time, but without surgical intervention, it won’t be enough to save her. She’s still hemorrhaging.

“Vitals are improving slightly,” Ryder remarks quickly. “BP is 65/46. Pulse is weak but improving.” She’s nowhere near stable, but her body is responding positively. We have to move fast and be thorough. We can’t make mistakes on this one; everything counts.

“Get ready for suturing,” I instruct. Prep another unit of O+ and keep it coming. Continue monitoring for any further blood loss. Start the antibiotics.”

Though shifters are mostly immune to infections, the body remains vulnerable at its weakest, so there’s a remote possibility. To give my patients the best chance, I introduce antibiotics or preventative measures rather than waiting until something develops. With humanplagues like HIV/AIDS, COVID-19, Ebola, and others, increasing in frequency and deadliness, it’s always wise to stay ahead of disease. Better safe than sorry when repairing a CMS-ravaged body.

We work fast, but the damage is significant, so the process is slow. I begin suturing the deep internal wounds, trying to stop the loss of blood before it overwhelms her. Each passing moment is critical.

Once those are addressed, I’ll focus on the surface damage. If all goes well, her wolf healing will kick in soon.

Six hours and several bags of blood later, I sigh. "Well, guys, that's all we can do. The rest of the fight is up to her."

As I walk out of the OR, I call back. "Finish it up, Grimes," while tossing my bloody gloves into the red, biohazard-lined trash can.

Her skin tone is still ashen, though improved. The grayness gives way to a healthier hue, and her lips bloom with the faintest hint of pink.

"Will do, Doc."

"Ryder. Please make sure that admitting knows we have another "Jane Doe" status on our hands." That’s the code word we use to seal the records of abuse patients. In the shape she came in, she’ll likely be in acoma for a while. We know who she is and intend to keep her mate away. But our hands are tied until she wakes up and tells us how she wants to proceed. We can't transfer her to our shelter for convalescence in this condition. We need consent.

"Will do, Doc," Ryder replies.

"And Ryder, let Ralph or whoever’s on duty in security know as well." I yawn. "Send her to the ICU after recovery. I'm going to nap in my on-call room. I want to be here if she needs me. Have the team stick around, too. We need to keep a close eye on this one. I have a feeling she’s not out of the woods yet."

"Can do, Doc. Get some rest."

I’m certainly glad my team was on standby. A few hours later, Paisley crashed, so I had to double the Amra dosage and re-enter her abdomen. Her mate really did a number on her. Thankfully, her wolf healing finally kicked in, and she began to improve after the second procedure. Once she stabilized, I sent my team home to get some much-needed rest.

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