Page 9

CHAPTER 9

S ilas

The scent of blood still clung to the air. The fires had burned low, reduced to smoldering embers scattered throughout the camp, but the damage was clear. Bodies, both human and wolf, littered the ground, some being dragged away by the survivors.

Jax was already barking orders, directing my pack to secure the perimeter and check for survivors. A few of my wolves shifted back into human form, their bodies battered and streaked with blood, but there was no hesitation in their movements; they knew what needed to be done.

I stopped beside one of the fallen wolves—one of theirs, not one of mine, thankfully. His fur was dark, almost black, his body larger than most, built for speed and strength.

This wasn’t some random raid. Someone had sent them. Someone who knew exactly where to find us. My jaw clenched, and I forced the thought aside for now. I needed answers, but first, I needed to take stock of what was left of my camp.

I strode toward the cluster of humans, their group smaller now, the survivors huddled near one of the supply tents.

Sorin stood at the center of them, her coat still streaked with blood, her dark eyes assessing as they met mine.

“How bad?” I asked.

She let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders. “We lost eight.” She jerked her chin toward the injured behind her. “Another dozen wounded. Some won’t make it through the night.”

I ground my teeth together, my fists tightening at my sides.

“We need to move,” she continued, watching me carefully. “Whoever sent those wolves—if they made it back to report, we don’t have much time before they regroup.”

She was right.

Moving the camp wasn’t a simple thing, though. We had built this place to last and fortified it over the years, hiding it from the wolves that ruled the cities. If we abandoned it now, we might not ever find a place this secure again.

And yet, if Sorin was right—if we had been found—staying meant death.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “We’ll handle that later. Right now, I need to check on my wolves.”

Sorin gave a slow nod, but her gaze flickered past me, toward my cabin.

“Your girl,” she murmured. “She fought well.”

“She did, didn’t she?” I replied softly, before bowing my head slightly to indicate that I was taking my leave. I turned on my heel and strode toward the pack’s medical tent. Jax was waiting for me near the entrance, his arm wrapped in a makeshift sling, blood still drying along his temple.

“Most of our wounded will heal fast,” he said, gesturing to the wolves behind him. “A few broken bones, some deep wounds, but nothing that won’t mend. Two of ours didn’t make it, though.”

“And the humans?” I asked.

Jax’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Worse. Some of them took bad hits. I told Sorin we don’t have enough supplies to patch up everyone.”

I rolled my shoulders, tension coiling deep in my gut. “We’ll figure it out somehow. We’ve got to do all we can for them. They fought bravely, on our side.” Jax cast his eyes to the ground and nodded.

With a deep breath, I made my way inside. The tent was cramped, filled with wounded from both the pack and the Resistance. Some lay on cots, others sat on the ground, pressing bloody rags to deep wounds.

Kara, one of my wolves, was hunched over a young pack mate, pressing a needle through his torn flesh, stitching him up with steady hands. She barely glanced up as I approached.

“You’re late,” she muttered, tying a knot before cutting off the end of the thread with a small knife. “Could’ve used an extra set of hands a half hour ago.”

I ignored the jab. “Who’s the worst?”

She nodded toward the corner of the tent.

I turned and spotted Darren, one of the younger wolves, propped against a pile of blankets. His leg was mangled, claw marks running deep from thigh to knee. He looked pale, sweat slicking his forehead, his breath coming in shallow pants.

I crouched beside him. “How bad?”

His lips twisted into something that almost resembled a grin. “Could be worse. Could be dead.”

I huffed, but there was no humor in it. “Give it time.”

Kara knelt beside me, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. “The bleeding has mostly stopped, but he lost a lot. If he were human, he’d be dead already.”

I nodded, exhaling through my nose. “He needs rest. Heat. Make sure he drinks. Eats.”

Darren’s eyes shifted toward me, the usual cocky light in them dimmed by pain. “Did we win?”

I hesitated.

“For now,” I finally whispered and his eyes flashed. He didn’t ask for more. He just nodded once, let his head fall back against the blankets, and closed his eyes.

I stood and moved to the next cot, a human this time. He was a Resistance fighter, maybe early twenties, his arm wrapped tight in bloody bandages. He flinched when I approached, his body tensing.

His reaction wasn’t surprising. The humans still didn’t trust us, didn’t trust me .

I met his gaze. “You fought hard. We’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you make it.”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

I turned, scanning the tent. More wounded, more pain, but at least they were still alive. With a sigh, I continued moving through the makeshift hospital, stopping at each cot and assessing the wounded. I spent an hour or two gathering supplies and helping those tending to the injured.

It was hard to see the aftermath, but my pack needed me. We had won the fight, but the cost was heavy. Too many dead, too many wounded, and the knowledge that the enemy knew exactly where to find us. I couldn’t deal with that problem right now. Their wolves would need to take a step back and regroup. They wouldn’t attack again right away, not tonight at least.

For now, I needed sleep.

By the time I made it back to my cabin, exhaustion was beginning to drag at my limbs, but my mind was still wired, running through everything that needed to be done.

I pushed open the cabin door, stepping inside. The warmth hit me first, a welcome contrast to the freezing night air. The fire had burned down, but it was still toasty inside. I glanced at the bed to find it empty, then turned toward the back of the cabin, to the small bathroom, and stopped.

Lia was still in the tub.

Her body was completely still, her breathing deep and slow, her arms draped over the edges, her dark hair fanning out in the water. The steam had faded, the water now barely warm.

She had fallen asleep.

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head.

Of course she had.

She’d pushed herself too hard, fought too hard, I’d pushed her too hard, and now, her body had finally given out.

I stepped forward, crouching beside the tub.

Her lips were slightly parted, her lashes dark against her cheeks, her body relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen even when she was a child.

I reached for a towel, then slid my arms beneath her, lifting her from the cooling water. She stirred slightly, a soft noise escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake.

I wrapped the towel around her, tucking her against my chest as I carried her into the bedroom. I set her down on the bed, then knelt beside her, running the towel gently over her arms, her legs, drying her off as best as I could.

She shifted, murmuring something incoherent, but still, she didn’t wake.

Once I was sure she was warm and dry, I pulled the blankets over her, tucking them around her body before stepping back, taking off my boots and slipping out of my clothes. With a quiet sigh, I slipped into the bathroom and took a quick shower. When I was done, I pulled on a fresh pair of underwear and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair, staring at the low flickering flames in the hearth.

I’d deal with everything else tomorrow.

I exhaled slowly and swung my legs up onto the bed, shifting beneath the blankets to lie on my back beside her. The mattress dipped under my weight, and instinctively, she shifted toward me, rolling slightly, her body unconsciously seeking out warmth.

She fit perfectly against me.

Her bare skin was soft against my chest, her back pressing into the heat of my body. The scent of her wrapped around me, making my wolf stir, restless and satisfied all at once.

I heaved a deep breath, willing myself to ignore it, but it was impossible.

My arm slid around her waist, my fingers grazing the curve of her stomach, holding her against me. Her body melted into mine, her soft sigh barely audible.

Something inside my chest clinched.

I had spent years keeping people at a distance. Years avoiding attachments, avoiding this. But now, with her in my arms, her breaths quiet and even, her warmth seeping into me…

I let out a slow breath, pressing my face against her damp hair, inhaling deeply. She smelled like home , familiar, something that had been missing for so long I hadn’t even realized how empty I’d been without it. Without her .

I tucked her closer, feeling the way her body molded against me, trusting me even in unconsciousness.

I let my own eyes drift closed, listening to the even rhythm of her breathing, the soft crackle of the fire burning low in the hearth. The exhaustion I had been fighting for days finally sank into my bones, pulling me under.

I squeezed her gently, my lips brushing the top of her head, and as I let go, finally let the darkness of sleep take me, I knew one thing for certain: I would never let her go again.