Being shoved down the hall at terrifying speed.
"No—!" I lunge forward, but hands grab me from behind, stopping me cold.
I whirl around.
Enoch.
He's only wearing shorts, nothing else, his bare skin slick and soaked crimson. Not splattered. Covered. Like he'd been bathed in it. His hands are shaking so badly I don't know how he's still standing.
I clap a hand over my mouth, a soundless scream tearing through me.
"Enoch," I whisper, voice breaking. "W-what happened?"
His eyes are glassy, wild. Haunted.
"You can't go in there, Sam," he chokes. "You can't. He isn't—he isn't going to make it."
The world tilts violently.
No.
No, he's lying. He has to be lying.
'GO,' Emma screams inside me, frantic and feral. 'That's our mate. MOVE.'
"What do you mean?" I demand, stumbling backward, shaking. "What happened?!"
His jaw tightens, lips trembling.
"Valen."
The name hits like a blade straight through my chest.
No. Goddess—no.
Enoch swallows hard, words tumbling out like they're burning him. "He's a fucking cheat. Shot him three times with silver bullets. Then stabbed him in the gut for good measure." His voice cracks. "You don't want to see that, Samantha."
"I have to see him."
He reaches for me again, desperate—but something snaps inside me.
My aura explodes outward.
The air crushes.
Enoch staggers back with a groan. Wolves throughout the room stiffen, some dropping to their knees, others gasping in pain as my power lashes out uncontrolled.
"I said I have to see him."
I don't wait.
I run.
I burst through the doors and—
My knees almost give out.
Kieran is on the bed.
Pale. No—gray. Ashen beneath layers of blood-soaked sheets and bandages. Machines scream around him, alarms shrill and relentless. Doctors shout orders, hands moving frantically, trying to save what's already slipping through their fingers.
Dirge stands frozen at the foot of the bed.
Not moving.
"Dirge," I choke. "Do something."
He doesn't move.
"Dirge?" I plead, stepping closer. "Please—he's my mate."
Slowly, he turns.
The look in his eyes makes my stomach drop—but I can't name why. It isn't fear. It isn't panic. It's cold. Sharp. Like something hard has locked into place behind his gaze.
For a heartbeat, it feels like he's looking through me, not at me. Measuring. Deciding.
My chest tightens. A sick, senseless fear crawls up my spine, but my mind refuses to give it shape. He's the healer. Cameran's father. He wouldn't—
"Dirge?" I whisper again, voice breaking.
His jaw flexes. Something dark flickers across his face—gone so fast I almost convince myself I imagined it.
"DAD!" Cameran snaps sharply from the doorway.
That breaks him.
Dirge jolts, blinking like he's waking from a nightmare, immediately barking orders, moving with the other doctors—but it's too late. I know it in my bones.
I can't think.
I am a medical doctor, but my mind is blank, useless, drowning in terror.
I stumble to Kieran's side.
Machines shriek louder.
I grab his face, sobbing, forehead pressed to his temple, my tears spilling over his bloodied skin.
"Please," I whisper, broken. "Please wake up. Please hang on for me."
Emma is screaming inside me, raw and inconsolable.
I kiss him.
Once.
Again.
"I'm so sorry," I sob, the words tearing out of me in broken fragments. My forehead presses to his, my tears dripping down his blood-smeared skin. "For everything. For how I was in the beginning. For every second I doubted you. Please—please don't leave me."
My hands clutch at him like I can anchor his soul to his body if I hold tightly enough. Like love alone might be stronger than silver.
Then—
Everything stops.
The relentless beeping of the machines cuts off mid-note, plunging the room into a silence so sudden it makes my ears ring. No alarms. No shouted orders. No rushing feet.
Just stillness.
Heavy. Suffocating.
I lift my head slowly, dread crawling up my spine, settling cold in my chest. My breath comes out in a thin, broken sound I don't recognize as my own.
Every doctor in the room is staring at me.
Not at Kieran.
At me.
Their faces are soft with pity. Resigned. The kind of look you give someone who has already lost, even if they don't know it yet.
"I'm sorry, My Queen," one of them says quietly. The title barely registers, slipping past my mind like water through my fingers. "The silver reached his heart. There's too much of it. There's nothing we can do."
The words don't make sense.
They bounce off something numb inside me.
"No," I whisper, shaking my head. My fingers tighten in on Kieran as if reality itself might tear if I let go. "No—you have to do something. Give him blood. Remove the bullets. Do something."
The doctor steps closer, voice gentle, careful—like he's afraid I'll break if he breathes too hard. "His wolf removed the bullets. We stopped the bleeding. We gave him everything we could."
He hesitates.
"But the silver remains," he continues softly. "There is no cure. Not for a wolf."
Something inside me fractures.
Not cracks.
Shatters.
No.
No no no no—
Fuck this.
'NO,' Emma roars inside my head, her fury colliding with my despair, power surging so violently it makes my vision blur. 'We do not accept this.'
"Get out," I say, my voice low and shaking, but threaded with something sharp and dangerous.
The doctor blinks. "What?"
"I said get the fuck out!" I scream, the sound ripping my throat raw. My aura flares without my permission, silver heat licking the air. "You can't help him—GET. OUT."
The room reacts instantly.
Doctors stumble back, faces paling. Nurses avert their eyes, retreating as if pushed by an invisible force. The door slams shut behind them one by one until the room is emptied in seconds.
Only Cameran remains near the door, hands clasped over her mouth, tears streaming silently down her face. Enoch stands beside her, shoulders bowed, utterly broken.
I don't look at them.
I collapse over Kieran's chest, my body folding around his like I can shield him from death itself. My sobs rack through me, violent and uncontrolled, my ribs aching as I breathe in jagged gasps.
"Kieran," I whisper, my lips brushing his skin. "Please. Please. I can't do this without you."
My sigil burns.
Not a flicker.
A blaze.
Heat explodes in my chest, sharp and searing, like molten silver pouring through my veins. I cry out, clutching at myself as the pain intensifies—too much, too bright, too alive.
It hurts.
It hurts—
I lift my head, breath hitching, instinct guiding me more than thought. I press my lips to his, cold and unmoving beneath mine.
For one horrifying heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then—
Silver heat pours out of me.
Not fire.
Not destruction.
Light.
Luminous. Ancient. Alive.
Flames bloom around us, silver-white and blinding, wrapping around my body and his, curling like living things. The air grows thick, unbearably hot, the walls humming as if the very room is trembling.
I hear Cameran gasp sharply. Enoch cries out, pain and awe tangled together as they stumble back, shielding their eyes.
The flames don't burn like fire.
They consume.
My skin feels too tight. My bones ache like they're being reforged from the inside out. My heart hammers wildly as power floods through me, demanding release.
I don't stop it.
I can't.
This is it, Emma whispers, her voice reverent and fierce, like she's bowing before something sacred. Lumen doesn't only purify, Sam. It heals.
Kieran's body jerks beneath me.
I gasp.
Heat surges violently, rushing from my chest into his. I watch, breathless, as wounds begin to knit together—slowly at first, then faster. Blood vanishes. Torn flesh seals. The gray pallor melts away, color returning to his skin like dawn breaking after endless night.
His chest rises.
Then falls.
Again.
A shaky breath drags into his lungs.
His lashes flutter.
A sob tears out of me as I grab his face, kissing him everywhere—his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth—laughing and crying so hard I can barely breathe.
"Ow," he murmurs weakly.
I freeze.
Then I laugh hysterically, choking on tears. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry!"
"Little wolf?" he rasps, his voice rough but alive.
"I'm here," I sob, pressing my forehead to his, my entire body shaking. "Goddess, I'm here."
He smiles faintly, pain flashing across his face even as relief floods mine. "Would you… officially be my queen?"
A laugh bursts out of me, wild and broken and full of love. I kiss him again, careful this time, reverent.
"I love you too, Kieran."
He chuckles softly—then winces. "Ow."
And I cling to him like the world almost ended.
Because it did.
And we survived it together.