Page 32 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

T HE WHITE WOLF LAY still in Anders’s arms, her breathing shallow but steady.

Her fur gleamed like freshly fallen snow—beautiful, pristine, and achingly vulnerable. Anders cradled her closer as he navigated the rough terrain, every sense on high alert for signs of pursuit.

Anders allowed himself a moment of raw emotion, his arms tightening fractionally around her still form.

Stay with me, he murmured, the words half prayer, half command. I found you. Don’t you dare leave me now.

The mate bond pulsed in response—weak but present, like a fading radio signal fighting through static. He focused on it, using the connection to guide his path through the dark forest as much as his enhanced night vision and memory of the terrain.

Each step jolted her, and Anders winced at the soft whimpers that occasionally escaped the white wolf.

The neural interface still embedded at the base of her skull was visible now, the surrounding fur matted with blood where her body had tried to reject the foreign technology.

The device itself appeared dormant, its control circuits likely burned out during her complete shift, but Anders knew the damage it had inflicted might not be so easily overcome.

He had failed her once, allowing his suspicions to blind him to her true situation. He would not fail her again.

Once he reached the truck, Anders reached for the medical kit Malcolm had provided, grateful once again for the alpha’s foresight. Inside, he found the neural blockers.

Working methodically, he cleaned the area around the interface, his hands steady despite the rage building in his chest at what had been done to Etta.

Attempting to remove the device without proper equipment and expertise could kill her—or worse, leave her permanently damaged. But leaving it in place wasn’t an option either. Even dormant, the foreign technology was causing her body to react, fighting infection and rejection simultaneously.

Anders prepared a neural blocker, carefully measuring the dosage for her weight and condition. As he administered the injection, he felt her awareness flickering through the bond—confused, frightened, but still fighting.

I’m here, he said aloud, knowing she could feel him even if she couldn’t fully understand his words in wolf form. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.

The medication took effect quickly, her breathing easing as the pain subsided. Anders continued working, applying antibiotics to the inflamed area around the interface, then covering it with a specialized bandage designed to promote healing in shifters’ accelerated metabolisms.

Throughout the process, he maintained a running monologue, his voice soft but steady as he explained what he was doing. He wasn’t certain how much she comprehended, but the bond between them seemed to strengthen with each word, each touch.

You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, he murmured, smoothing the fur between her ears. Stronger than you realize.

The white wolf stirred slightly, her golden eyes opening to mere slits. Recognition flashed in their depths before they closed again, but that brief connection sent warmth surging through the bond between them.

Okay, sweetheart, he said as soon as he was certain she was stable. Let’s go home.

A NDERS ’ S BOOTS CRUNCHED AGAINST the gravel path leading to Malcolm and Larissa’s home, the sound unnaturally loud in the predawn stillness.

He’d spent the night poring over the data they’d gathered from the Chimera facility, including medical scans of Etta’s neural interface, and what he’d found had left him with a cold knot of dread in his stomach.

The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten, painting Sunburst Mesa in shades of purple and gold. Any other morning, he might have paused to appreciate the desert’s stark beauty. Today, he barely registered it, his mind consumed with the blinking red data points on his tablet.

The door opened before he could knock. Larissa stood in the entrance, her expression serious as she took in his disheveled appearance.

You look like hell, she said, stepping aside to let him in.

Your mate said the same thing to me yesterday.

Must’ve been true. Come on—I have coffee ready.

I’ve been up all night, Anders said, following her into the kitchen where Malcolm sat nursing his own cup of coffee.

Malcolm’s gaze sharpened as he took in Anders’s expression. That bad?

Anders placed his tablet on the table, pulling up the three-dimensional model of Etta’s neural interface. The metallic implant glowed red against the blue outline of her central nervous system, its tendrils extending like poisonous roots into her brain stem and down her spine.

Worse than we thought, he said, his voice carefully controlled despite the rage simmering beneath the surface. The device truly is killing her. Slowly.

Larissa leaned closer to the screen, her brow furrowed.

Anders navigated to another image, this one showing the minute filaments that branched from the main device. These nanoscale connections were designed to integrate with her nervous system while the chemical suppressants remained active. Now that the suppressants are breaking down—

Her body’s rejecting the foreign technology, Malcolm finished, his expression grim.

Exactly. Anders zoomed in further, highlighting areas where inflammation had begun to develop. Her immune system is attacking the device, which might seem like a good thing, except—

The device has integrated too deeply with her neural pathways, Larissa said softly. Her body can’t tell where the device ends and she begins.

Anders nodded, jaw tight. The rejection process will eventually cause catastrophic nervous system damage. Based on these readings and Dr. Mercer’s projections, we’re looking at complete system failure within two to three weeks. Four at the outside.

System failure . A clinical term for what would be an excruciating death as Etta’s body destroyed itself trying to expel the implant.

Can anyone in the pack remove it? Malcolm asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

No. Anders closed the image, unable to look at it any longer. I’ve run my own projections. The technology is beyond anything we’ve encountered. Attempting removal with our current resources would be tantamount to murder.

Silence fell between them. Anders forced himself to breathe evenly, to maintain the professional detachment that had served him well throughout his career.

But beneath that carefully constructed calm, his wolf raged, howling at the thought of his mate suffering, dying from a violation so profound it defied comprehension.

We need specialized medical expertise, Larissa said finally.

Someone with experience in neural technology and shifter physiology, Anders added, having already considered this as well. That’s a rare combination.

Malcolm set down his coffee mug with sudden decision. We need to bring in Nick.

Anders raised an eyebrow. Nick?

The Moonstone Pack in Colorado, Malcolm said. Nick maintains connections with them. They’re larger than we are, with more resources. And if I remember correctly, they have a doctor with some unusual expertise.

A flicker of hope sparked in Anders’s chest. The neural interface contains classified intelligence about the Sunburst Pack. Sharing that information with another territory—

Is a security risk, Malcolm acknowledged. But at this point, I’d say Etta’s life outweighs that concern. Don’t you agree, Guardian?

There was no challenge in Malcolm’s tone, only a quiet understanding. He was giving Anders permission to prioritize his mate over his duty—something Anders hadn’t realized he needed until that moment.

Yes, he said. I agree.

Larissa was already reaching for her phone. I’ll call Nick now.

While she made the call, Anders found himself pacing the kitchen, his body unable to remain still as the reality of Etta’s condition truly sank in.

Two to three weeks. Possibly less if the rejection process accelerated—which it very well might now that she was shifting more frequently as her true nature resurfaced.

Nick’s on his way, Larissa said, setting down her phone. He says he has a direct line to the Moonstone Pack’s doctor.

Malcolm watched Anders’s restless movement. How is she this morning?

Stable, considering. Anders forced himself to stop pacing, bracing his hands against the counter instead.

The neural blockers are managing the pain, but they’re becoming less effective.

She’s experiencing more frequent partial shifts as her wolf fights to emerge, which speeds up the rejection process.

What he didn’t say—what he didn’t need to say to the coalphas who understood mate bonds—was how it felt to watch her suffer, to feel her pain echoing through their connection, to know there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And she doesn’t know how serious it is, Malcolm guessed.

Anders shook his head. She’s still unconscious.

The sound of tires on gravel announced Nick’s arrival, quicker than expected.

I called Dr. Weiss on my way over, he said without preamble as he entered the house without knocking. He’s the Moonstone Pack’s chief physician. Has experience with just about anything that can happen to shifters. Including, it turns out, neural implants.

Anders straightened, instantly alert. What kind of experience?

Military research, from what I understand, Nick said, accepting the coffee Larissa offered. He worked with a government program studying shifter physiology before returning to his pack. Steele—their alpha—trusts him completely.

That’s not particularly reassuring, Anders noted, thinking of Chimera’s government backing. The neural interface in Etta’s neck is military-grade technology. Used against shifters, not for them.

Nick held up a hand. I understand your concern. But Dr. Weiss left that program specifically because he disagreed with the direction their research was taking. He’s been working to counter those technologies ever since.