Page 19 of Ethan (Pecan Pines #7)

Ethan

The clinic was quiet that morning, quieter than it had been in weeks.

No patients calling for me. No enforcer showing up at the door with a partner limping at their side.

No endless chime from my computer reminding me of all the things I hadn’t done yet. Just silence.

For the first time in a long while, I could breathe.

So why did it feel so empty? Why couldn’t Dean have walked through the door today instead?

The thought caught me off guard. I pressed my lips together, trying to shake it, but the truth was plain. I’d wanted him to come by yesterday.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I’d wanted to drop everything and just go to him.

Dean hadn’t said much, but the look in his eyes had been enough. Concern, plain as day.

And yet, all I could do was keep my head down and drown myself in work.

My mind was a mess, crowded with everything I hadn’t done and every failure I couldn’t stop replaying.

I didn’t want to face Dean like that, not when all I could think about was how I still wasn’t the healer I was supposed to be, even after all these years.

With Devon around these past few days, I hadn’t had to think. I’d been grateful for it, honestly.

Just slipping back into old patterns, letting him take the lead while I moved through the motions. Being numb was easier than facing how unprepared I really was.

So when Dean came by, coffee in hand, I had nothing to give him. Not even the decency to explain why I hadn’t been replying to his messages.

I didn’t know what to say or how to explain myself. In a way, I was relieved the clinic had been so busy yesterday. Too busy to stop, too busy to slip away.

Devon had kept me pinned down, drilling me with more detailed instructions than before, making sure I wouldn’t let things pile up again the moment he left.

And now he had left again.

The silence pressed in, and for the first time, I really looked at the work around me.

The neat stacks of files Devon had sorted. The charts organized by priority. The absence of chaos that I’d gotten so used to.

How had I never noticed before?

I’d been working at this clinic with Devon for over a year, following his lead, doing what I was told, never once stopping to think about what it meant to be the one in charge.

Devon had carried so much of this on his own, and I’d let myself coast behind him.

Guilt twisted in my gut. All the times I’d left early, thinking my shift was done, Devon had been the one picking up the rest.

He’d trusted me, though. Trusted me enough to hand over the clinic when he left. He’d thought I was ready.

And I’d nearly proven him wrong.

The memory of Nick and Ben still lingered sharp in my chest, proof of how badly things could slip when I wasn’t paying attention. That was on me.

But Devon hadn’t taken the clinic back. He hadn’t decided I wasn’t good enough.

He’d left it to me again, he still believed I could handle it. Like maybe he knew something I didn’t.

Maybe I had been relying on him too much, or maybe I’d just been avoiding the truth of what this role demanded.

Either way, I didn’t want to keep hiding behind him. I wanted to do better. Be better. For the pack, for myself. And maybe, for the people I’d let drift away too.

The quiet gave me a chance to think, and for once, I didn’t push it away. My mind wandered, as it always seemed to, back to Dean. I still didn’t know what I’d say if I saw him.

“Sorry” didn’t feel like enough. Not for the distance I’d put between us, not for everything I hadn’t shared.

But I knew I wanted to see him again. Maybe just to apologize, maybe to start fixing things.

The creak of the clinic door snapped me out of my thoughts. Cathy rushed in, breath sharp with panic.

“Ethan—” Her voice cracked. “It’s Micah. He left early this morning to surprise his grandfather, but Maurice never called to say he’d arrived. I tried calling again before coming here, but no one answered. It’s been hours.”

Her hands clenched the phone, twisting it nervously. “I-I can’t find any of the enforcers. Everyone’s out on patrol. I don’t know what to do… I just don’t know.”

I pulled a chair out for her. My own pulse quickened, but I forced calm into my voice. “Sit. Breathe for a second.”

Panic wouldn’t help either of us.

While she sank down, I opened the calendar on my computer, flipping straight to Devon’s account.

He’d always kept it more updated than mine. But when the schedule loaded, my stomach sank.

The enforcers’ patrol list was the same as mine, outdated. No sign of the new rotations.

Of course. Cooper had only recently doubled the patrols and added new drills. The new schedules hadn’t been logged yet.

“Maybe Cooper—” I muttered, pulling up his details, but the office line stayed empty. He was away visiting the Thornebane pack, not due back until the afternoon. Too late.

Across the desk, Cathy was already redialing, murmuring Maurice’s name under her breath, like if she said it enough times, he’d pick up.

I grabbed my phone. Dean first. Straight to a busy signal. Griffin, the same. No signal.

They had to be deep in the woods. My gut knotted tighter.

I swallowed, staring at my phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

I could waste more time chasing names, searching for someone else to take this on. Or I could face the truth: there was no one I could reach in time.

The image of Ben and Nick flashed across my mind. Their blood. Their broken bodies. The way it had been luck, not skill, that I’d been close enough to save them. Luck wasn’t something I could count on now.

If Micah was out there. If Maurice was hurt. If the wolves were circling…

A sharp panic dug into my ribs, relentless. But beneath it, a voice whispered, steady and clear: You know what to do. You have the skills. You have to act.

I tapped out a quick message to Dean, then Griffin.

My thumb hovered again. For a moment, I pictured Dean seeing it, the way he’d scowl, the way he’d call me reckless.

He’d tell me to wait, to think this through, to follow the damn rules. And maybe that was exactly why I couldn’t wait for him.

Rules were meant to keep us safe. But rules weren’t going to save Micah if I sat here doing nothing.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and turned to Cathy. “I’ll go.”

Her eyes widened. “Alone?”

“I don’t have a choice.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Stay here. Man the desk. Keep your phone on you, and don’t leave the clinic. I’ll call as soon as I get to Maurice’s cabin.”

“I should?—”

“No.” I cut her off, softer than I meant. “It’ll be faster with just me. And someone needs to stay here in case other calls come in.”

Best to give her something to focus on, keep her busy while I handled this.

She hesitated, then nodded, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.

I grabbed my healer’s kit, tightening the strap across my shoulder. My hands trembled. There was no time to think.

No excuses. No more hiding behind Devon, or behind fear. I was the healer. It was my responsibility.

Heart pounding, I pushed out the door.

The path I took wasn’t the safest, but it was the fastest. The enforcers had their own trail, wider and more practical for patrols, but I couldn’t risk the time.

Every second mattered. If Micah had come this way, I’d have a better chance of finding him before anything else did.

And I was sure he had. All the kids who grew up in Pecan Pines knew this route. A steep, jagged, winding dare up the mountain.

Colton, Griffin, and I used to scramble up here when we were younger, daring each other to go higher, faster, even though our parents told us not to.

It was a game back then. Right now, it felt like punishment.

My boots slid on a patch of loose gravel, my ankle twisting just enough to shoot pain up my leg. I cursed under my breath and shoved myself forward, clutching my kit tight against my side.

For a split second, I thought about shifting. Four paws would have made this climb easier, faster.

But the kit weighed heavy on my shoulder, and I couldn’t leave it behind. Maurice kept an emergency kit at his cabin, but I didn’t want to gamble on that.

What if Micah needed me before then? What if Maurice did?

I pushed harder, lungs burning, ignoring the sting in my calves and the scrape of branches across my arms.

The sharp scent of blood reached me before the sound did. My stomach dropped, and I sprinted the last stretch of the trail.

Up ahead, near a jut of rock, I spotted them. Maurice was slumped against the stone, his shirt dark with blood, one arm wrapped tight around Micah, who clung to him like he was the only thing holding him up.

“Ethan,” Maurice rasped when he saw me, relief flashing in his eyes. “Wolves… came out of nowhere. Got rid of a few… but I couldn’t…”

His words broke off in a cough that brought up more blood.

Micah’s eyes widened when he saw me, tears streaking his cheeks. “He can’t walk. I-I tried to help, but?—”

“I’ve got him,” I said quickly, dropping to my knees beside them.

My fingers trembled only for a second before training took over. I pressed my hand to Maurice’s side, feeling the warmth of blood spill against my palm. There was too much.

The familiar rush of healing stirred inside me, bright and strong. Stronger than it had felt in weeks.

I pushed it into Maurice, stitching together torn vessels, steadying his ragged breaths. Relief nearly buckled me. Finally, my gift wasn’t failing me.

Maurice groaned, but the bleeding slowed. His chest rose steadier under my hand.

“That’s all I can do right now,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. “We need to get you to the cabin. Enforcers might?—”

A howl split the air. They were close.

From the shadows between the trees, yellow eyes gleamed. Then another set. And another.

“Stay behind me,” I snapped and grabbed the nearest thing I could find—an uprooted branch lying in the dirt.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I raised it like a spear as the wolves padded into the clearing, teeth bared, low growls vibrating in the air.

Micah whimpered and tightened his grip on Maurice.

The first wolf lunged. I swung hard, the branch smacking against its snout.

It yelped, recoiled, but two more crept forward, hackles raised. My pulse thundered in my ears.

“Don’t move,” I warned, voice shaking.

And then Micah broke.

With a cry, he tore away from Maurice and bolted up the trail.

“Micah!” Maurice shouted, panic raw in his voice.

One of the wolves snapped its head toward the fleeing boy, muscles tensing to give chase.

Without thinking, I lunged forward, slamming the stick down between it and the path.

“Hey! Over here!” I yelled, my throat raw. “Come at me!”

The wolf snarled, snapping at the branch instead of running after Micah. My heart hammered, but I kept shouting, waving the branch, forcing its attention back on me.

“Go,” Maurice gasped behind me. “Ethan, leave me. Go after him!”

I risked a glance back. Maurice’s eyes were wide with desperation, his body trembling with effort.

Everything in me screamed to run after Micah, to make sure he was safe. But one look at Maurice, slumped and bleeding, decided it for me.

“No,” I said, voice low and hard, though fear twisted my gut. “I’m not leaving you.”

Micah was smart. He knew where the cabin was. He’d hide, or he’d make it there.

Please, let him make it there.

The wolves inched closer, teeth flashing in the half-light. My grip tightened on the branch until my knuckles ached.

I cursed myself. Stupid. Stupid to come here alone.

If only I’d waited, if I’d brought an enforcer… No. Waiting for someone would have made it worse.

Beside me, Maurice’s bones cracked, his body shuddering. His wolf surged forward, silver fur bristling, lips peeled back in a snarl.

I froze. Should I shift too? Maybe I’d stand a chance.

The wolves circled tighter, growls rising.

I had to decide quickly.