Page 60 of Fated (The Bonded Legacy #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CALEB

V ital sign monitors hummed softly, punctuated by distant beeps and the squeak of a nurse’s shoes in the hallway—the sterile rhythm a stark contrast to yesterday’s chaos.

Antiseptic couldn’t quite mask the metallic tang of blood that still lingered in the corridors and suites of the Bloodstone hospital.

Caleb had refused to leave Asher’s side, even after Garreth’s arrival, even after the doctors assured him his beta would recover.

The stiff-backed plastic chair creaked as he shifted his weight, watching Asher sleep soundly beneath thin hospital sheets.

His gaze shifted to Garreth snoring quietly in the recliner, head tipped back, exhaustion etching deep lines into his face even in sleep.

Despite the calm in the room, Caleb’s mind was far from quiet.

Fenrir stirred in the back of his consciousness, his presence a tangible warmth spreading across Caleb’s shoulders like a protective cloak. Asher’s scent—pine and earth after rain—briefly overpowered the antiseptic hospital smell as a low hum of comfort threaded through Caleb’s thoughts.

“He’s strong,” Fenrir assured. “He’ll recover. So will we.”

The rogue attack on Bloodstone opened wounds Caleb thought he’d buried, but Fenrir had been a steadying force throughout the night, anchoring him even as memories of Crescent Fang’s own devastations tried to resurface.

“Good morning, Alpha.”

Caleb turned at the sound of the doctor’s voice. The older male stepped into the room, expression kind and focused. He moved to Asher’s bedside, checking the bandage that stretched across his beta’s side.

“The wound is healing well,” the doctor said after a moment. “It’s a good sign that the silver has worked its way out of his system. I’ll send a nurse in shortly to remove the stitches and redress the wound. He should be ready to leave in a few hours.”

Caleb exhaled with relief, worry lifting from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

The doctor gave them a reassuring nod before stepping out.

Caleb glanced at Garreth, still slumped in the recliner. Rising from his chair, he moved across the room and placed a hand on the former beta’s shoulder. “Garreth.” He nudged him awake. “He’s doing well. The doctor says we’ll be able to head home soon.”

Garreth’s eyes drifted opened. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his neck as the words sank in. Relief softened his features as he studied Asher, searching face for confirmation.

“Thank Selene,” Garreth said softly. He moved to his son’s bedside, his hand resting on Asher’s shoulder. Garreth didn’t say much else, but the way his hand lingered on his son’s shoulder, thumb brushing against the edge of the bandage, spoke volumes.

Asher roused at the sound of their voices, eyes opening slowly. Still groggy, he managed a faint smile as he met his father’s gaze. “I’m okay, Dad. You can stop worrying.”

Garreth huffed. “You say that now. We’ll see how you feel when I’ve got you chopping firewood again.” The faint quirk of his mouth betrayed his firm tone.

Caleb watched the tender exchange before stepping in. He bent down to press a kiss to Asher’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

The nurse arrived just as Caleb slipped out the suite. He walked through the hospital corridors and stepped outside to the cool morning air. The fresh breeze was a welcome relief after hours in the sterile room as he made his way toward the dining hall.

The dining hall’s high ceiling amplified every scrape of chair against tiled floor as Caleb entered the cavernous space.

The scent of coffee blended with something hearty—oatmeal, perhaps—from the serving stations along one wall, where staff worked in hushed efficiency.

Morning light slanted through tall windows, illuminating the haggard expressions of the few Bloodstone wolves scattered at tables, their conversations reduced to murmurs in the half-empty room.

Caleb’s gaze landed on Darius, seated alone at a metal table near the back, where shadows still clung to the corners.

A neglected cup of coffee sat in front of him, the liquid black and still, steam long since dissipated.

The Bloodstone alpha’s shoulders hunched, head bowed, tracing the rim of the ceramic mug.

Fenrir’s voice came again. “We are needed, but tread carefully. He carries more than he shows.”

Caleb grabbed two fresh cups of coffee and walked toward the table. He placed one in front of Darius before sliding into the seat across from him.

Darius glanced up, his green eyes bloodshot and heavy-lidded. “Caleb.” Darius’s voice was gruff but genuine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Caleb nodded. “How are your wolves holding up?”

Darius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s…not good,” he admitted. “The losses were worse than I feared. And the damage—” He shook his head, steeling himself. “We’ll recover, but it’ll take time.”

Caleb let the silence stretch for a moment, studying the older alpha. Weariness aged his face, and a muscle twitched along his jawline as he clenched his teeth.

“Lead him. He’ll follow if you offer him steady ground.” Fenrir nudged.

“The rogues,” Caleb began. “They weren’t acting alone. The coordination, the weapons, the tactical gear… This wasn’t a random attack.”

Darius’s eyes darkened, and he nodded grimly.

“I agree. I received a call from Garrick this morning. Redridge was hit at the same time we were. Same MO—large-scale attack, weapons, precision, but no casualties.” He paused, his jaw tightening further.

“This wasn’t feral madness. It was strategy. Someone is pulling the strings.”

The two alphas exchanged a look. Understanding passed between them without words.

“Have you considered hunters?” Caleb asked.

Darius frowned, fingers drumming against the table. “It’s possible. But hunters targeting multiple packs simultaneously, with rogues as their foot soldiers? That’s a level of coordination we’ve never seen. It also doesn’t make sense that they would use the feral wolves to take out peaceful packs.”

Caleb leaned forward, voice dropping further. “Both Bloodstone and Redridge are powerful packs with established territories. Both survived. That can’t be coincidence.” His brow furrowed. “Were there survivors among the rogues? Anyone who might be questioned?”

Darius shook his head. “None that were captured alive. And the bodies...” He hesitated.

“Some were scarred and matted as would be expected, but others were in pretty good shape for rogues.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw.

“I’ve sent word to the other regional alphas to increase patrols and report any unusual activity near their borders.

If this is the beginning of something larger, we need to be prepared. ”

Fenrir’s growl reverberated through Caleb’s mind. “These are not random targets. There is purpose here we don’t yet see.”

Darius’s expression shifted, his voice softening as his gaze dropped to his untouched coffee.

“I can’t stop thinking about Elias,” he murmured.

“He fought so hard. I knew he was strong, but the way he threw himself into the battle… It’s like he was protecting something precious.

” He paused. “I found his wolf, Kael, in the aftermath, throat torn out.” His gaze met Caleb’s once more.

“He was so young. He would’ve been Kai’s gamma.

Elias should be standing beside Kai when he takes his oaths this year. ”

An ache spread beneath Caleb’s ribs as Darius spoke, throat constricting until each breath burned.

The image of the male wolf’s final moments flashed vividly in his mind.

Fenrir lunged forward from the depths of his consciousness.

Electricity crackled down Caleb’s spine, snapping it straight.

The hair at his nape rose, pupils dilating as Fenrir’s certainty flooded his senses.

The unmistakable scent of mating pheromones mixed with blood and grief flared in Caleb’s nostrils as if he were standing on the battlefield again.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Have you had any updates on his mate? The she-wolf who was shot with the crossbow?”

Darius’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You mean Ava? No… Elias wasn’t mated. And Ava—she’s been Kai’s girlfriend for years. That’s who I was speaking to you about before the attack.”

Caleb’s gaze sharpened, mind racing. “I’m certain they were mates. Fenrir too,” he said carefully. “I saw it happen. She cried out for him—her mating cry desperate as she tried to rouse him.”

Darius stared at Caleb, disbelief and turmoil warring in his expression. “But Kai…” he whispered, color draining from his face. “That can’t be right.”

Silence stretched between them like a chasm, each second heavier than the last, neither willing to bridge the gap the words had created.

Fenrir rumbled in Caleb’s mind, his tone heavy with meaning. “This will fracture before it mends.”

Darius remained seated as Caleb rose, the second mug of untouched coffee cooling in front of him. The Bloodstone alpha stared into the cup as though searching for answers within its dark depths.

Caleb stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Darius stilled at the touch, as though bracing against an unseen force, exhaling with visible restraint as Caleb’s hand stayed steady.

The faintest tremor ran through him before the tension in his posture eased, shoulders dropping a fraction.

He looked up, remaining silent, expression soft, though still laden with grief.

“I’ll pray to Selene for the safe passage of your fallen,” Caleb said quietly. “May they find peace in her light.”

Darius’s hand came up to cover Caleb’s, squeezing once before releasing. A single tear slipped down his cheek, catching in the stubble along his jaw.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice raw. “For everything. Crescent Fang’s aid made all the difference.”

Caleb nodded. “We’re stronger together.”