Page 35 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

Something warm unfurled in Etta’s chest at his words—not the mate bond this time, but something equally powerful. Trust. Faith. Perhaps even love, though neither of them had spoken that word yet.

How very tactical of you, she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Turning fear into a strategic consideration.

A matching smile flickered across Anders’s face. Old habits.

Etta reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. If this goes wrong…

It won’t, he interrupted, his voice fierce.

But if it does, she said, needing to say this now, while she still could. I want you to know that finding you—remembering myself—it was worth it. Even if we only had these few weeks, it was worth remembering who I really am.

Anders caught her hand, pressing it more firmly against his face before turning to place a kiss against her palm. The gesture was achingly tender, at odds with the guardian persona he presented to the world.

This was for her alone—this vulnerability, this raw emotion.

You’re not saying goodbye, he said. This isn’t the end of our story. It’s just the beginning.

She wanted to believe him—needed to believe him—and so she merely nodded.

T HEY SPENT THE REMAINDER of that day and the next together, mostly in comfortable silence.

Anders insisted she eat to keep up her strength, though food held little appeal. He made arrangements for his deputies to handle security during the procedure and coordinated with Dr. Weiss on the final preparations to bring in Dr. Delores Trujillo and her team from the Stardust Pack in Colorado.

That night, before Anders’s bathroom mirror, Etta turned, lifting her hair to examine the mark at the base of her skull. The skin around the interface was red and inflamed.

Tomorrow, either the device would be gone or she would be.

The thought should have terrified her, but instead, she felt an odd sense of peace.

Whatever happened, she was facing it as herself—part Etta Barone, the journalist she’d been programmed to be; part Eliana Thornwood, the lost wolf cub whose family had been murdered; and part someone new, claimed from the ashes of Asset E5.

No matter what, she was choosing her own fate.

For that alone, she would always be grateful to Anders and the Sunburst Pack. They had given her back herself.

Sleep came fitfully that night, her dreams a jumbled mix of memories, both real and implanted. She woke before dawn, her body tense with anticipation and a dull ache radiating from the interface despite the neural blockers.

She met Anders in the kitchen, where he had spent much of the night, obviously as unable to sleep as she’d been.

It’s time, Anders said simply, offering his hand.

Etta took it without hesitation, drawing strength from him as they made their way together to the small medical center.

The pack’s territory was quiet this early, the only sounds the calls of desert birds greeting the day and the soft crunch of their footsteps.

Dr. Weiss and Dr. Trujillo were waiting when they arrived, the medical suite now even more transformed. Surgical equipment gleamed under bright lights, monitors displayed various readouts, and a specially designed table awaited in the center of the room.

We’re ready when you are, Dr. Weiss said. I’ve prepared everything we discussed.

Etta nodded, suddenly unable to speak past the lump that had formed in her throat. This was it—the moment of truth, the point of no return.

Dr. Trujillo approached with a hospital gown. You’ll need to change into this, she said gently. And remove any jewelry or hair accessories.

Anders squeezed her hand once before releasing it, giving her space to prepare. I’ll be right outside, he promised.

Once Etta had changed into the thin cotton gown, Anders was allowed back in. He came to her side immediately. Etta sat on the edge of the surgical table, her heart racing despite her outward calm.

Dr. Weiss explained the procedure—how they would use a specialized electromagnetic field to disrupt the interface’s connection to her neural pathways before attempting removal, how they would monitor her brain activity throughout to minimize damage, how she would be under anesthesia but in a state where they could still detect disruptions to critical neural functions.

She listened carefully, asking questions when something wasn’t clear, determined to face this with full understanding.

I’ll be here when you wake up, Anders promised, his voice steady and sure. Through their bond, she felt his absolute conviction—not just hope or wishful thinking, but a certainty that she would survive this, that they would have a future together.

I’m holding you to that, she whispered, managing a small smile.

Dr. Trujillo approached with the anesthesia. We’re ready to begin, she said softly. The medication will work quickly.

Etta nodded, lying face down on the table as instructed. Anders’s hand found hers again, a warm anchor as Dr. Trujillo inserted the IV.

Count backward from ten for me, Dr. Weiss instructed, his voice calm and professional.

Ten, nine, eight…, Etta began, her eyes locked on Anders’s face, memorizing every detail as the medication began to take effect. Seven, six…

The world began to blur around the edges, sounds becoming distant, muffled.

Five… Her eyelids grew heavy, impossibly so.

The last thing she was aware of was Anders’s hand in hers, his voice in her mind through their bond—not words exactly, but a feeling, a knowing.

Come back to me .

H ER AWARENESS RETURNED SLOWLY , in fragments. First, sensation—a dull ache at the base of her skull, the softness of sheets beneath her, the warmth of a hand holding hers.

Then sound—the steady beep of a heart monitor, quiet voices speaking nearby, the soft hum of equipment.

Finally, smell—antiseptic, clean bandages, and beneath it all, Anders.

Etta opened her eyes, blinking against the soft light. It took a moment for her vision to clear, for the blurry shapes around her to resolve into familiar figures.

Anders sat beside her bed, his posture alert despite the exhaustion evident on his face. When he saw her eyes open, relief washed through their bond, so powerful it brought tears to her eyes.

Hey, he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. Welcome back.

Etta tried to speak, but her throat was dry, her tongue uncooperative. Anders understood immediately, reaching for a cup of water with a straw. He held it to her lips, supporting her head gently as she drank.

How long? she managed after a few sips, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Eighteen hours, Anders said, setting the cup aside. The procedure was…complicated.

Before she could ask more, Dr. Weiss appeared on her other side, looking tired but satisfied as he checked the monitors displaying her vitals.

How are you feeling? he asked.

Etta took a moment to catalog her sensations. The pain was there but duller than before, more like the aftermath of an injury than the burning agony she’d grown accustomed to. Her thoughts felt clearer somehow, as if a persistent static had finally been silenced.

Better, she said, surprised to find it was true. Different.

Dr. Weiss nodded, understanding more than she could articulate. That makes sense. The interface is gone. What you’re feeling now is normal postsurgical discomfort, not the inflammatory response your body was mounting against the device.

The words took a moment to register. Gone? You removed it completely?

Yes, Dr. Weiss confirmed with a small smile. It was more deeply integrated than we anticipated, but we managed to extract it intact. Your neural pathways are showing remarkable resilience—already beginning to form new connections where the device was removed.

Etta closed her eyes briefly, overwhelmed by relief. The constant presence that had haunted her, the alien technology monitoring her every move, the ticking time bomb in her nervous system—gone.

Thank you, she whispered, opening her eyes to meet Dr. Weiss’s gaze. I know the odds weren’t good.

Your shifter physiology helped, he said. The accelerated healing is already working in your favor. And you fought for this—your body, your mind, your wolf—all working together toward healing.

Anders’s hand tightened around hers, his pride, his joy, his sheer gratitude that she had survived against those daunting odds vibrating through their connection.

We’ll need to monitor you closely for the next few days, Dr. Weiss continued. Watch for any signs of neural complications. But the worst is behind you now.

A thought occurred to Etta, important despite her exhaustion. The interface—you kept it?

Dr. Weiss nodded. Preserved and secured, as requested. It’s a remarkable piece of technology, despite its abhorrent purpose. Understanding it could help us protect others from similar violations.

There are at least four other assets, Etta said, forcing strength into her voice despite her fatigue. Four other shifters with interfaces like mine. We need to find them, help them before Chimera activates the Epsilon Protocol on them.

I know, Dr. Weiss said gently. Anders has briefed me on the situation. If you’ll permit it, I’d like to study the device more thoroughly. The more I understand about how it works, the better prepared I’ll be to help the others when you find them.

Etta looked to Anders, seeking his input. As head guardian, security was his domain.

I trust him, Anders said, significant words coming from someone who trusted very few people outside his pack.

Then yes, Etta said. Study it. Learn everything you can. But destroy it when you’re done. I don’t want any part of it falling into the wrong hands.

Dr. Weiss nodded his agreement. Of course.

And Ms. Thornwood— He hesitated, his expression growing more solemn.

—I want you to know that I’m committed to helping find the other shifters being used as assets.

What was done to you, to them—it’s an abomination against our kind.

When you’re ready to search for them, I’ll help in every way I can.

The offer was more than Etta had dared hope for. One doctor against Chimera’s resources seemed like impossible odds.

But then again, so had her own survival.

Thank you. The words were inadequate for the gift he’d given her—not just her life, but the chance to help others like her. Yet his smile suggested he understood all the things she couldn’t put into language.

Dr. Weiss left them shortly after, mentioning something about checking his equipment and preparing notes. Anders remained, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand in a soothing rhythm.

You should rest, he said, noticing her struggling to keep her eyes open. Your body needs time to heal.

Etta wanted to protest, to ask more questions about the procedure, about what had happened while she was unconscious, about the plans for finding the other assets. But exhaustion was pulling her under, her enhanced healing working overtime to repair the damage from the surgery.

You’ll stay? she asked, fighting to keep her eyes open just a little longer.

Anders’s expression softened, the guardian giving way to the mate. Wild wolves couldn’t drag me away.

Satisfied, Etta let her eyes close, secure in the knowledge that Anders would be there when she woke.

For the first time in her remembered life, she drifted to sleep without fear—without the constant presence of Chimera’s technology in her mind, without the dread of what they might make her do, without the burden of an identity built on lies.

Free at last .