The world seemed to tilt, and time slowed with fear.
Gideon's strike landed with devastating precision. His claws found exactly the injury he'd been targeting. The old wound reopened. New damage compounded the existing trauma. The impact sent Darius crashing to the ground with such force that the earth cracked beneath him.
Through our bond, pain exploded—not just physical, but emotional and spiritual. Everything connecting us suddenly screamed with agony as my mate suffered damage that might be fatal.
My wolf howled. It was instinctive, uncontrolled, pure rage at seeing my mate hurt, at feeling his pain through our bond, at understanding that his protective instinct had been weaponized into fatal vulnerability.
The sound carried across the battlefield—raw, primal, Alpha fury that made both forces pause. Students and enemies alike recognized something fundamental about bonded wolves: that harming one meant enraging both.
