Page 52

"I found something... someone," I say. "A female wolf. Young. I thought she was feral at first, but there’s more to it. She’s... she’s broken, Griffin. Tortured. Scarred inside and out. She shifted, but the bond hit me like a freight train. She’s not just any wolf. She’s mine."

Silence.

Then, very softly, "Your mate?"

"Yes."

Another pause, longer this time, then Griffin curses under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Safehouse in the northern ridge."

"Is she stable?"

I glance toward the bedroom door, where her soft breathing barely reaches me. "Barely. She’s not well enough to travel. If I move her now, I’m afraid she’ll shut down entirely."

"Then don’t," Griffin says at once. "Stay put. I’m coming to you. And I’m bringing Maya. We’ll use a portal."

His voice is resolute, without room for argument.

I don’t argue.

Before I step outside, I pull the extra wool blanket from the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and lay it gently over her frail frame.

The fire is still crackling in the hearth, but I know mountain nights can turn bitter fast. And for someone whose body has endured this much trauma, cold might be the thing that breaks her more than anything else.

I watch her for another moment, just long enough to make sure she’s deeply asleep, then leave the room.

Outside, the clearing is cloaked in the hush of night, the November frost blooming on the edges of fallen leaves. The wind carries only the scent of pine and old smoke. I lean against the door.

My mate is so young. I’m in my late thirties and it looks she’s still in her teens, young, abused, broken. A bitter laugh escapes.

The woman I fell for years ago already had a mate. And the one whom the fates decreed for me might be too broken to even understand what we have.

Ever since Maya and Griffin's mating ceremony, I've taken back control of the army.

I prefer staying as far away from the palace as possible however, because even though the handover of the kingdom was smooth and went without a hitch, there are always those ready to cause trouble.

My brother doesn't doubt my loyalty, but it bothers me when our two reigns are compared. and besides, he's happily mated—

Perhaps that's the reason.

My brother is happy in his marital life.

He’s found a mate who understands and loves him, despite the scars on his soul.

Cedric, the King of the Northern Wolf Kingdom, my friend, and the one who I never thought would actually meet his fated mate is about to have his third child.

I've never seen him so content in the role of fatherhood.

And here I am, alone.

At first, I had avoided seeking a mate because I knew that if I produced an heir, and if my brother ever returned, his claim for the throne would be in question.

But then I met Leanna and her son. I thought for sure since she was abandoned, and she had a child, we would be a good fit.

And I watched her heal from the broken person she had been when I found her in the forest after escaping the North.

I fell in love with the woman she became.

She was a friend, someone I could be myself with.

I put a proposal forth, hoping she would accept.

I was willing to give her son my name and raise him as a potential heir since it has been so long since Griffin had disappeared.

But before she could agree, her own mate, and Finn's father showed up to take her back.

Cedric and her were fated mates, something I never knew, and I had to watch her go back with him, their misunderstandings resolved, leaving me alone once again.

I exhale sharply, staring at the night sky.

What am I supposed to do with this girl? My wolf is pacing anxiously within me. It wants to make sure she’s alright but raw instinct wars with common sense.

I have to first figure out what is wrong with her scent.

She’s a shifter but there’s something off about her. Her wolf is too wild, too uncontrolled. The way she attacked those humans— Her wolf only calmed down once I appeared and it realized I was stronger.

I feel the air shift, my skiing tingling in response to the magic.

My gaze focuses a few feet away from the safe house at a spot where the air is distorting.

The background fades into something dark and then the space splits like water parting around invisible hands, a circular ripple of silver and gold light.

From the heart of the portal steps a man with short, silver hair, his loose white shirt billowing slightly as the magic dissipates around him.

Griffin.

He’s followed by a woman, her auburn hair tied back into a low, sleek knot. Maya. His mate. My sister-in-law and the Queen.

They look at me the moment they cross the threshold.

Maya’s eyes sweep over me, sharp and assessing, and something in her shoulders eases.

"You’re not hurt," she says. "Good."

She starts for the door, but I lift a hand, blocking her path with a silent shake of my head.

"There’s something about her," I say, my voice low. "Something I don’t understand. She’s a shifter. She shifted in front of me. But the ones who tried to drag her back didn’t call her a rogue. They called her... an experiment."

Maya’s eyes flash, and she looks sharply at Griffin, who steps closer, brows furrowed.

"Did they say anything else?"

"Just that she wasn’t real," I murmur. "Not a proper shifter."

Maya exhales slowly, her lips tightening. "I have to see her."

I step aside to let her pass but not before saying, “Don’t hurt her. She’s very badly injured.”

“Jerry is on the way.” Griffin touches my shoulder. “The witch is holding the portal for him.”

Maya doesn't hesitate. I follow close behind, and Griffin steps in silently after us, his presence quiet but alert.

The moment Maya sees the girl on the bed, she stops.

Not like she’s surprised. Like something inside her goes still.

She inhales once, sharply. Her eyes widen a fraction, then narrow with something like recognition, but also dread. She crosses the room quickly, crouching beside the bed, her hand hovering near the girl’s arm, not touching her but close enough that the heat of her palm could be felt.

Then she leans in and breathes deeply.

A sigh escapes her lips.

"I was afraid of this," Maya murmurs.

I frown. "Afraid of what?"

Maya straightens, but her gaze stays on the girl. "The reason they called her an experiment... is because she’s like me."

My heartbeat slows. “Are you sure?”

I suspected it. I just didn’t want to be right. Because it meant other humans were out there, being experimented on by the Silver Ring Organization.

"I was born human.” Maya murmurs. “But somewhere in my ancestry, there was a shifter. A recessive gene. It was dormant, sleeping. I didn’t know anything about it. But someone did. We need to know how these people are able to figure it out.”

She pauses, her jaw tightening.

Mathew, Maya’s friend, was a secret agent of the Silver Ring. He gave her a drug to activate her dormant gene.

“The scent of other shifters, real shifters, like you and Griffin, it feels too sharp. Your presence is overwhelming, dominating. My wolf wasn’t born naturally. It was forced into being. It took time, and a bond, to bring balance. Over time, I’ve gotten used to it.”

Her hand finally settles on the girl’s arm.

"But this girl," she says softly, "she smells... normal. No sharpness to her scent, no dissonance. She’s like me. Her gene was woken."

I glance at the girl’s face again. Her lashes still rest against her cheeks. She sleeps through all of this.

"Then why is she so unstable?" I ask. "You had control when you shifted. She didn’t. It was chaos. There was no awareness. Only violence."

Griffin steps closer, his expression unreadable.

"Because I was there," he says. "Because we were bonded. My presence helped calm Maya’s wolf the first time. It grounded her."

He looks at me now, gaze steady.

"And if she’s your mate, Erik, you might be able to do the same."

The room falls into a quiet so still, I can hear the fire popping.

I look at her.

The girl whose name I still don’t know. Whose body is covered in the evidence of horror I still don’t understand. And my wolf stirs within me again.

I look at her lying there, so small and fragile against the rough cotton sheets. The wounds across her stomach haven't begun to heal, still raw and angry against her pale skin. My wolf paces anxiously within me, demanding protection, demanding closeness—but the man in me hesitates.

"Just looking at the state of her," I say quietly to Maya and Griffin, "I'm not sure she needs a fated mate right now. She needs care and healing." I run a hand through my hair, agitation building in my chest. "And she's incredibly young."

Maya opens her mouth to respond, but before she can speak, a figure enters.

Jerry’s medical bag is clutched in his weathered hands. The royal healer, a man in his late fifties with silver streaking his temples and lines of wisdom etched around his eyes, moves with practiced efficiency. But when his gaze falls on the girl, he stops short, shock washing over his features.

"Oh, dear Goddess" he whispers, moving to her bedside. "What happened to this child?"

He settles beside her, hands already glowing with soft golden healing light. His fingers hover over her body, not touching, just reading. I watch his expression darken as the magic seeps into her wounds, revealing damage that even I can't see.

Jerry's eyes meet mine, horror etched into every line of his face. "What was done to her?"

I swallow hard, the words like ash in my mouth. "She was skinned alive. And probably not just once."

The silence that follows is deafening. Jerry's hands tremble slightly before steadying, the healing magic flowing stronger now.

Griffin says nothing, but I notice Maya's grip on my brother's arm tightens, her knuckles white. And that tells me everything I need to know. My brother endured similar tortures during his captivity. The realization makes my stomach turn.

A small sound pulls my attention back to the bed. Her eyes flutter open, storm-gray and disoriented. The moment she registers unfamiliar faces, panic floods her features. Her breathing accelerates, her body tensing to flee.

I move before thinking, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently taking her hands in mine.

"You're safe," I tell her, keeping my voice low and steady. "These people are here to help you. No one will hurt you."

Her gaze locks with mine, searching, desperate. I don't look away. I let her see the truth in my eyes, the promise there.

"Jerry is going to heal you," I explain, nodding toward the healer. "It might feel strange, but it won't hurt. I'll stay right here."

Her fingers tighten around mine—just slightly, but enough. Her first deliberate action. Her first choice. It sends something warm and protective surging through my chest.

Jerry begins his work in earnest now, passing his glowing hands over her wounds. The girl flinches at first, but doesn't pull away. Her eyes stay fixed on mine, using me as an anchor as the magic seeps into her flesh. The lacerations on her stomach slowly begin to close, angry red fading to pink.

"That's it," I murmur, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand. "You're doing well."

The healing drains her quickly. Her eyelids grow heavy, her grip loosening as consciousness slips away. I stay beside her until her breathing evens out, until I'm certain she's sleeping peacefully.

When I finally step outside, the night air hits me like a physical blow. I breathe deeply, trying to clear my head, but all I can see is her face, her scars, the fear in her eyes that hasn't quite faded even in sleep.

The guilt is suffocating—not just for her, but for all of it. For Griffin's lost decade, for every moment I wore his crown while he suffered in captivity. For every night I slept in safety while others endured horrors I can barely comprehend.

I don't hear Griffin follow me out, but suddenly he's there, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leans against the cabin wall.

"It wasn't your fault," he says quietly.

I know he's referring to his own captivity, to the years I spent searching while he endured torture at the hands of our enemies. But knowing and believing are different things.

"I never stopped feeling guilty," I admit, staring at the midnight sky. "Not for a single day."

Griffin sighs, the sound weighted with memories neither of us can change.

"I don't live in the past anymore, Erik.

It took me time, and Maya, but I've found my way forward.

" He pauses, then adds softly, "That young wolf in there—she needs what I needed.

Care. Patience. Affection. You might be the one who can give her that. "

The implications hang heavy between us. Fated mates. A bond that transcends choice, that draws two souls together across distance and circumstance. I've seen what it's done for Griffin and Maya, for Cedric and Leanna. But this is different. She's broken in ways I'm not sure I know how to heal.

"She doesn't even have a name," I whisper. "At least, not one she's told me. They called her 'Subject Twenty-Three.'"

Griffin's jaw tightens. "Then give her a name. Give her choices. Give her the dignity they stole from her."

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. Not the burden of a crown this time, but something more intimate. More personal.

"And if I can't help her?" The fear slips out before I can stop it.

My brother's hand grips my shoulder, steady and sure. "You will. Because you won't give up. You never do."

I have no answer to that. Just the knowledge that inside that cabin lies a girl who has survived more than anyone should have to endure. A girl whose wolf recognized mine, whose fate is now tangled with my own. A girl who needs more than pretty words and promises.

She needs a future she can believe in.

And I'm not sure if I know how to give her that.