Chapter 2

Wren's POV

The healing-lamps burn too bright tonight.

I clench my jaw and bury the tears behind my teeth. My hands stay steady. The blade stays steady. Nobody in this room would guess that thirty minutes ago I caught my fated mate sleeping with my best friend.

When the patient stabilizes, my wrists ache so deep I can barely lift them.

"Healer Sutton — I haven't congratulated you yet."

The junior healer grins as he scribbles down vitals.

"Six moons of leave for a Mating Ceremony! The whole infirmary's been talking. Alpha Caden sends flowers to you every single day— guess he finally got you to say yes."

The clay cup creaks in my grip.

These last few moons I burned every favor I had to earn that leave. Every off-day. Every emergency shift I could swap forward. I went down once in the changing room, low blood, knees buckling. I drank a vial of honey-water and walked back into surgery.

Caden picked me up that night. Saw my white lips and frowned, rare as a winter sun.

"Could you maybe — just once — be kind to yourself?"

I smiled. "Worried about me, my Alpha?"

He pulled me into his chest.

"Wren. I want to bring you home and keep you somewhere safe."

His arms had already held another she-wolf by then.

Every drop of sweat I bled was a joke.

"Mm," I tell the junior. One syllable. Any more and I'll crack.

I slip into the changing chamber.

The bolt slides shut. I slide down the door.

My shoulders shake. The tears finally fall through my fingers and there is nothing — nothing — I can do to stop them.

Caden has been my shadow since I was nine.

Wherever I went, he went. One winter I snapped at him, "Could you stop following me?"

He'd ducked his head. "I want to be your shadow. Where you go, I go."

At eighteen he slipped me a folded leaf.

"I don't want to be your shadow anymore. I want to stand at your side."

I said yes.

Eighteen to twenty-eight. Ten years. Every promise — kept.

Late healing? He waited at the gate. Sick? He took leave to nurse me. Every word I ever spoke, he stored like a sacred thing.

The whole pack said it: That's what a mate bond is supposed to look like.

I believed it.

I scrub my eyes and push to my feet.

Two voices drift from the corridor — junior healers, low.

"You hear? Emergency came in. She-wolf, three moons gone. Her Alpha mate took her too rough — she's bleeding out."

"Pup's holding. But the male—bad news. Came in barking orders, said if his pup dies, he'll burn this infirmary down."

"Power-drunk man, I swear..."

"That's not the bit. The bit is — he looks exactly like Healer Sutton's mate."

"Goddess! You don't think she's the mistress, do you?"

The footsteps fade.

I lean against the door, ice running down my spine.

My claws split skin. Blood trickles through my fingers.

I shove the door open and run.