Page 117 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
“I pushed you away. I was so afraid of what you represented, of losing control, of becoming their weapon again, that I tried to erase you completely.” Tears stream down my face, hot and real despite the fact that I know my physical body is still strapped to that table. “But you were never the problem. I was.”
The wolf circles me slowly, each step deliberate. I can feel her caution, her anguish, the immeasurable exhaustion that comes from being rejected by the one person who should have embraced her.
“I felt your loneliness,” I continue, my voice breaking. “Every time Erik was near, every time our bond tried to surface, I felt you clawing to get free. Not to hurt anyone—just to be acknowledged. To be part of me instead of hidden away like some shameful secret.”
She’s close enough now that I can see my own pain reflected in her golden eyes. This magnificent creature—my other half, my strength, my wildness—has been starving for connection. Not just with Erik’s wolf, but with me.
“I wanted to be human again. The rejection hurt even when I pretended it didn’t,” I whisper. “I thought that burying you would help me get over Erik. That accepting you meant I would be letting him win, letting those monsters win. I didn’t know that I was hurting you.”
The wolf stops just out of reach, her expression unreadable.
“He’s dying,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “Erik is dying, and I can’t save him like this. I’m not strong enough like this, as half a person.” I drop to my knees in the void, extending my hands toward her. “Please. I need you. I need all of you. Help me save him.”
For a long moment, she just stares. Then, slowly, she steps forward and lowers her great head until our foreheads touch.
The connection is immediate and overwhelming—not the violent, chaotic merger I’ve experienced before, but something deeper. A true joining. I feel her strength flow into me, her speed, her savage protective instincts. But more than that, I feel her love. She has loved Erik from the moment we met him in that forest, recognized him as ours in a way my human mind couldn’t accept.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” I whisper against her fur.
She huffs softly, and I feel her forgiveness like warm sunlight after a long winter.
Then she begins to fade—not disappearing, but melding. Becoming part of me in a way she never has before. I feel the suppressant in my bloodstream being overcome and burned away by something far more powerful: the complete acceptance of what I am.
The mating bond, dormant for so long, flares to life with stunning intensity. I can feel Erik’s wound as if it were my own, his life force ebbing with each heartbeat. But I can also feel his wolf, still fighting despite the poison, still trying to protect me even as it dies.
My eyes snap open.
The laboratory comes back into focus with startling clarity. Every scent, every sound, every detail is magnified beyond anything I’ve experienced. I can smell the fear-sweat on Alex’sunconscious form, the acrid, chemical tang of Dylan’s spilled blood, the wrongness of Mathew’s artificial enhancement.
And Erik’s blood. So much of Erik’s blood.
Mathew is preparing another syringe, his back to me as he mutters about genetic compatibility and breeding programs. He thinks I’m still unconscious, still helpless.
He’s wrong.
The restraints that held me moments ago are suddenly inadequate. Not because I’m stronger—though I am—but because I understand them differently now. My wolf’s instincts guide my movements as I twist my wrists at just the right angle, applying pressure at the weakest points of the steel.
The metal gives out with a sharp crack.
Mathew spins toward the sound, his monstrous features contorting with surprise and rage. “Impossible. The suppressant should have—”
But I’m already moving, pulling out my IVs on the way.
The shift takes me mid-leap, bones and muscles flowing like water as my human form gives way to something far more primal. But this isn’t anything like the chaotic, painful transformations I remember. This is controlled, purposeful, perfect.
My wolf form hits Mathew center mass, four hundred pounds of fury and claws and teeth driving him backward into the wall of medical equipment. Glass shatters, metal bends, and his artificially enhanced roar of pain fills the laboratory.
He probably is stronger than any natural shifter, just as he claimed. But he’s also unstable; his enhancement is too new, too raw. He fights like someone drunk on power rather than someone who understands it.
I fight like someone with everything to lose.
My jaws clamp around his throat, but his hide is too tough, and he manages to throw me off with a strength that sends mecrashing into another bank of equipment. I roll with the impact, already moving as his claws rake the air where I was a split second ago.
“You cannot win!” he snarls, lunging after me. “I am evolution! I am perfection!”
I dodge his clumsy swipe and dart in low, my teeth finding the soft spot behind his knee. This time my fangs penetrate, and he staggers with a howl of rage and pain.
But even as we fight, I can feel Erik’s life force fading through our bond. Each second we spend locked in combat is another second he is bleeding out on the laboratory floor.
