Page 78 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
“Is Marcus okay? He missed dinner.”
I nod. “Too much to drink, I’m afraid. He’s out cold.”
She smirks knowingly and ducks out. Easy cover. Marcus’s party-boy rep still works in our favor.
When she’s gone, I lean close and whisper to him, “You better wake up sane, my friend. Because I’m going to need you.”
Being a lone wolf used to feel like freedom. No ties. No weakness. No curse. Just me and the mission. But now I see the truth—without a pack, I’m exposed. Vulnerable. There’s only so much one wolf can do before he’s outnumbered, outgunned, or outsmarted.
Sera’s life, our bond, the secrets we’re both carrying—they’re too big for one wolf to shoulder alone. If I want to protect her, if I want to survive what’s coming, I need more than claws and instincts. I need allies. Loyalty. Blood oaths. A pack of my own.
Because the war is coming—and lone wolves don’t survive wars.
Yet I’ve never had a stronger reason to survive.
Sera.
God, I want to run to her. My blood burns with the instinct to protect her, to find her, to kill whatever stands in her way. But I can’t leave Marcus like this. He needs someone to anchor him, or he might turn wild, out himself…or me.
It seems like forever, but it’s only been a few minutes. I don’t realize I’ve called her until I hear the line connect.
“Tori,” I rasp. “It’s bad.”
No hesitation. “Where are you?”
“Marcus’s dorm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just come. Hurry.”
“On my way.”
Tori moves like moonlight—quiet, deliberate, inevitable. Noah's breath stills, his body instinctively easing as if her presence alone can bear the weight of everything he’s holding in. She slips into the room without a sound, her medic’s bag slung over one shoulder and her long braid damp with night air. Her eyes—silver threaded with green—flick immediately to Marcus, who’s trembling in the bed, skin slick with sweat and fever.
“Oh my God, Noah. Did you....?”
I nod like a guilty child. “I had no choice. He was on to all of us.”
She takes a deep breath and rummages in her medic bag. Always the pragmatist.
“I understand. It just scares me to think of Marcus on our side.”
I have to smirk at that, despite everything.
“I brought wolfsbane compresses,” she says, already unpacking. “It won’t stop the pre-transformation, but it will ease the shock.”
She crouches beside him, one hand hovering above his heart, the other brushing back his soaked hair. Magic hums in the space between them.
“I tried to slow it,” I say hoarsely. “But it’s happening fast.”
Tori nods, calm but focused. “You marked him in crisis. It accelerates everything.”
“I really had no choice.”
Her gaze flicks to me—gentle, not judging. “I believe you.”
That undoes something tight in my chest. Out of everyone in this firehouse, in this godforsaken town,Tori is the one person I don’t have to lie to.
