Page 77 of Mated To The King's Gamma
The pain intensifies, and something tears loose from my throat—a scream that echoes through the clearing. My fingers dig into the earth, clutching desperately as if I can fight myself against the shift.
“I need Azalea!” I sob, clawing at the dirt as another wave hits me. Azalea will understand. “I need her—I can’t?—”
Behind me, fabric rips as Gannon bursts from the tent, my name already forming on his lips.
“Abbie!”
Gannon’s voice cuts through everything—through pain, through fear, through the roaring in my ears. Strong and rough with panic. His footsteps pound behind me, and then those arms-those arms that have held me through nightmares and death itself—wrap around me, pulling me against the solid wall of his chest.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His breath is warm against my ear, his hands splayed across my burning skin. He’s kneeling behind me in the dirt, uncaring of who watches as he cradles me against him.
“No, you don’t understand.” I writhe in his embrace, unable to stay still as pressure builds in my bones, as cartilage shifts and organs rearrange. “I remember—I remember it hurting so bad—I can’t do it again?—”
My words dissolve into a keening whimper as another spasm racks me. My fingers dig deeper into the earth, tearing furrows in the soil. The guards back away, giving us space. Only Liam remains close, his usual manic grin replaced with concern.
“You’re not the same,” Gannon growls, tightening his grip as I try to pull away. “You’re stronger now.” His voice drops lower, his lips brushing my temple. “Let me help you.”
I shake my head, unable to form words as tears streak down my face. How can he help? How can anyone help when my body is betraying me, when my skin feels too small, and my bones feel like they’re trying to escape?
Gannon shifts, moving around to face me. His hands grab my face, forcing me to look at him rather than at the ground or my own trembling limbs.
“Abbie—look at me.”
I do. Our eyes lock, and in his gaze I see not fear or disgust but a love that steals what little breath I have left.
And that’s when I hear it.
Low. Hypnotic. His calling.
It’s not a sound that just reaches my ears but something deeper—a vibration that enters through my skin, the points where his fingers press against my jaw, and the air between us. It slithers through my chest, down my spine, soft and seductive like velvet sliding over raw nerves.
It pulls at something deeper than the pain—something rooted in who I am now, something that recognizes him not just as my mate but as part of my soul.
I gasp, and my body stills for one blessed second. The pain doesn’t vanish, but it... recedes.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “Feel me. Not the pain.”
Then the shift slams into me again—bone grinding against bone, muscles stretching. My back arches, a cry tearing from my throat. But this time—I don’t fall alone.
Gannon’s forehead presses against mine, his breath mingling with my panting gasps. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
His hands slide down to my shoulders, my arms, finding my hands where they’re still buried in the earth. He doesn’t try to pull them free but instead covers them with his own, fingers interlacing with mine in the dirt.
And somehow, that grounds me. The connection—skin to skin, his strength flowing into me—creates a circuit that the pain can’t completely breach.
“It—hurts—” I manage between clenched teeth.
“I know,” he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against my chest where we’re pressed together. Another wave hits, and I cry out—but his grip tightens, keeping me from falling completely apart. The calling vibration comes again, stronger now, seeming to align with something inside me that’s been waiting, dormant, for this moment.
“Gannon—” I gasp, fear still threaded.
37
Her scream cuts through me like a serrated blade.
I hold her tighter, even as her body twists like it wants to break itself open.
I didn’t want to use the calling.
