Alistair — POV
Cold iron burned against my wrists.
Moonveil restraints—the only damn metal in existence that could hold something like me. Wolf-forged. Silver-infused. Designed to suppress shifts and slow regeneration.
My skin sizzled where they touched me.
"Again," Elder Voric snarled, pacing in front of me. "What did you awaken?"
Blood slid down my jaw from the last punch. I spat it onto the stone floor between us.
"Go to hell."
Voric grabbed me by the hair, yanking my face up to his.
"You broke the wards. You tore open something ancient. You think we wouldn't feel that?"
I smiled—sharp, bloody. "If I'd 'torn open' anything, you wouldn't be standing here."
He slammed my head back against the stone pillar.
The world rang.
But even through the haze of pain, something flickered across my senses—distant, faint, familiar.
A tremor.
A whisper.
A breath I recognized deeper than my own heartbeat.
Sarafina.
My spine went rigid.
It wasn't physical contact. It wasn't magic, not exactly. More like a thread—thin, fragile, but real—pulling tight across my chest.
She was panicking.
Her fear hit me like someone had shoved a blade between my ribs, twisting hard.
Voric didn't notice. "Tell us what you touched, hybrid. Tell us who you found."
A second tremor reached me—sharper, hotter, a spike of power like a scream bursting outward—
And then her energy slammed into me.
Raw.
Unstable.
Terrified.
My breath vanished.
No.
Not now.
Not alone.
Not unprotected.
A third pulse hit—and the seal around her flared like wildfire.
I tore against the restraints so hard the iron cracked.
Voric stepped back, startled. "What—what did you just—"
"She's in danger."
My voice came out low. Vicious. Not human.
Voric frowned. "Who?"
Another pulse tore through me—stronger than the last.
She was hurt.
Scared.
Losing control.
Rage ignited so violently I felt my fangs slide down.
"I said—" The restraints began to glow white-hot, cracking under the pressure of my shift.
"—she's in danger."
The pillar behind me shattered as I ripped free.
Voric stumbled backward, eyes widening.
"Sound the alarm! The hybrid—"
Too late.
I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.
Not enough to kill him.
Just enough to make a point.
"You should've killed me earlier," I whispered, voice shaking with fury. "Now I'm going to get her back."
Wolves swarmed the chamber entrance.
I didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
Didn't care.
My body was bleeding, broken, barely functional—but I tore through them like paper.
Every strike fueled by the image of her collapsing alone.
Every punch sharpened by her fear echoing through my bones.
Every growl ripped from me because I wasn't there when she needed me.
When I finally burst into the moonlit forest, the night air cut into my wounds like glass. I kept running.
Branches whipped my face.
Blood dripped down my arms.
My ribs crunched with every breath.
Didn't matter.
I pushed harder.
Her presence became clearer the closer I got to the city— a trembling beacon, flickering, unstable, suffocating.
"She's losing control," I growled.
The moment Valeries' neon skyline came into view, another shockwave hit—strong enough to drop me to one knee.
She wasn't just scared.
She was breaking.
"No—"
I forced myself up.
"No, no, no—don't fall apart now—"
Her flare pulsed again—
and I smelled hunters.
Too many.
Too close.
Too ready.
I tore into the streets, ignoring the blood soaking into my torn shirt. Ignoring the people staring. Ignoring the red haze clouding the edges of my vision.
Then I reached her building.
Hunters were swarming everywhere—
weapons drawn
walls fractured
glass shattered
her scent in the air, sharp with fear.
Rage swallowed me whole.
I crashed into the nearest squad, tearing through them with brutal precision.
One hit the pavement.
Another slammed into a railing.
A third dropped after I ripped the weapon from his grip.
None of it was enough.
Because she wasn't outside.
She wasn't safe.
Where was she?
Where—
Movement in the doorway.
Cassian.
Holding her.
My heart stopped.
Literally.
Stopped.
Sarafina was limp in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, her skin pale and streaked with dust. Her breaths were shallow, uneven.
If she'd been hurt—
If he'd failed her—
If he'd touched her wrong—
If he'd taken her from me—
"Put. Her. Down."
My voice came out raw, uneven, trembling with fury.
Cassian's grip tightened around her.
"No."
The word detonated inside my skull.
"No?" I repeated quietly.
"She needs safety," he said.
"And you think that's with you?"
I bared my teeth.
"Move aside."
Cassian stepped back instead.
My vision darkened. "If you take her—"
"She doesn't need your rage right now," he shot back.
"She needs me."
"She needs calm."
His eyes hardened. "Which you are not."
I lunged—but more hunters poured in between us.
By the time I ripped them apart—
Cassian was gone.
With her.
Again.