Page 39 of Reclaiming His Lost Mate (Secret Legacy #3)

“You won’t be able to help them if you collapse,” he countered. “Even Alphas have limits.”

I waved off his concern and continued down the hall toward my room. Each step felt heavier than the last, my skull pounding as though something inside was trying to break free. By the time I reached my door, the pain had reached a crescendo, a sharp, splitting agony that nearly sent me to my knees.

Harold was right. I needed rest.

Inside, I went straight to the bathroom, leaning over the sink and turning on the faucet. Cold water rushed out, splashing over my hands as I bent to scoop some onto my face.

And then—a violent wave of pain.

The room tilted, the world spun, and before I could steady myself, darkness swallowed me whole.

The last thing I saw was a face surfacing from the abyss of my mind like a ghost from the past.

Caroline. Even though I was falling into the embrace of darkness, the thought of Caroline filled me with a sense of hope. That was what she was to me now, an anchor. Well, until I had messed it all up.

I couldn’t hang on to the thought of her for long. The abyss swallowed me whole.

I woke to a persistent knocking.

“James! James!” Rebecca’s voice rang from the other side of the door, sharp with urgency. “I’m coming in!”

I groaned, pushing myself up from the cold tile floor. My limbs felt sluggish, my head a lead weight on my shoulders. I staggered out of the bathroom, the headache now a constant thrum in my skull.

“Don’t come in!” I called out, steadying myself against the doorframe.

“They’re here! You’re late.”

“I know. I’ll be out soon. Stall them.”

I turned back toward the bathroom, my gaze catching the mirror as I moved—and my stomach dropped.

A thin, dark streak of blood trickled from my nose.

“No,” I whispered.

The sickness.

Dread curled in my gut like a living thing. The first sign of the curse’s progression was the nosebleed. I had seen it too many times before.

Harold had explained it weeks ago. The sickness mimicked a virus—attacking the body, forcing it to fight back.

Some wolves, the stronger ones, resisted longer, showing no signs of the initial fever.

But when the body could no longer hold the infection at bay, it gave in.

And the blood—the putrid, dark, foul-smelling blood—began to seep from the nose, the eyes, the mouth.

It was always the beginning of the end.

I wiped it away hastily, forcing myself to breathe, to think. It didn’t mean anything. Not yet. I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t dying. I felt fine.

I changed into clean clothes, straightened my shoulders, and stepped outside.

Rebecca was still waiting, her sharp gaze scanning my face.

“You okay?” she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smirk.

She studied me for a moment before shrugging.

“Tell me, how did it go?” I said.

“You don’t want to talk about it after the meeting?” she asked.

“No. I want to hear it now.”

I waited, the ghost of Caroline’s name still lingering on my tongue. Images of her smile, those striking green eyes, flashed through my mind.

Why was I thinking of her so much all of a sudden? I wasn’t complaining, anyway. She was a salve to the painful moments that had polluted my life so much lately.

Rebecca sighed, a quiet sadness darkening her expression. She shook her head, the weight of another failure pressing down on her shoulders.

“He couldn’t help,” she murmured. “He tried to read the victim’s energy but was too terrified to even attempt anything further. I’m sorry.”

I exhaled slowly, nodding. “That’s okay. We have the other shaman. He’s more daring.”

Another effort wasted. Another dead end, I thought.

I was running out of time.

“Come on,” Rebecca urged. “Pascal’s been stalling them.”

“Good,” I muttered as we walked toward the meeting room where the shareholders waited.

But as we moved through the halls, the name surfaced again, slipping into my thoughts unbidden.

Caroline.

A strange warmth spread through my chest, soft and aching. It took me a moment to realize I was smiling.

“Why are you smiling?” Rebecca’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“What?”

“You were smiling.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were,” she insisted, her sharp gaze locking onto me. “And you’re acting really strange.”

She was right. I had been smiling. The memory of Caroline had done that to me.

God, she made me happy.

If she were here, maybe I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Maybe I wouldn’t feel as if I were drowning under the weight of responsibilities I could no longer shoulder. She had always been my silver lining, my sanctuary in the storm—until I threw it all away with my own foolishness.

Why was I thinking of her now?

I should have been focusing on strategy, on preparing myself to face the shareholders who had gathered under the pretense of offering support, though I knew they only sought to assess the depths of my downfall. But I couldn’t help it.

Thoughts of Caroline eclipsed everything else. The fear of the sickness festering inside me. The anxious murmurs of the shareholders just beyond the doors. The weight of my family’s legacy teetered on the edge of ruin.

None of it mattered.

Not when her memory wrapped around me like a phantom embrace, stirring up every buried emotion. I could almost smell her—lavender, soft and intoxicating. The taste of chocolate on her lips, the way her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like an ocean of honey.

Her smile with the power to melt away my worries.

Her beauty was able to transport me to a world where trouble ceased to exist. Her touch.

Her warmth. The sultry way she bit her lip when she wanted me to kiss her.

I should have never let her go. And now, with the first sign of the sickness fresh in my mind, death might just be around the corner and I’d never get to see her again.

A sharp nudge to my side brought me crashing back to the present.

“We’re here,” Rebecca said as she pushed open the doors.

The moment we stepped inside, all eyes turned to me.

I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in their expressions, nor the restless shifting of bodies. They were displeased that I had kept them waiting. I ignored it, my gaze finding Pascal, who had done well to hold them here in my absence.

I knew why they had insisted on meeting in person.

They wanted to see for themselves, to measure the wreckage with their own eyes. But they would find nothing. I had ensured the sick and cursed were safely hidden away in the ballroom.

Taking my seat at the head of the table, I crossed one leg over the other and observed them, watching as they squirmed under my scrutiny. Their eyes gleamed—not with concern, but with hunger.

These men cared only for numbers. For profits.

Not for the family. Not for the pack. Not for the very thing my ancestors had built this empire upon.

“Can we begin?” I said coolly. “I believe you had concerns to share with me.”

I watched their discomfort deepen. Good. Let them be uncomfortable.

Fernad cleared his throat and leaned forward. A werewolf—one of the few on the board. My father had chosen him as CTO before his passing, believing Fernad understood both the family and the business. I had expected more from him.

Instead, he had aligned himself with them.

“James,” he started, his voice thick with feigned sympathy. “I want you to understand—this meeting is not meant as a slight against you.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here,” I cut in.

A low growl rumbled from Rebecca and Pascal, vibrating through the room like a warning.

Tension spiked. The humans among them stiffened, well aware of how deadly a werewolf attack could be. The werewolves present, already weak and withered, said nothing.

I had turned the tables.

“We simply wish to express our concerns,” Fernad continued, though his voice was noticeably tighter. “We have every right to do so.”

“Yes, you do,” I conceded. But I was tired of this.

Their worries meant nothing to me. What mattered were the wolves suffering just feet underneath us, ravaged by the sickness.

“The curse that has been plaguing your family is no longer a secret,” Fernad pressed. “For over a century, the strength of the Yorkes has dictated the success of this company. But now…people are losing faith. Our stock is plummeting. We’re hemorrhaging money by the second.”

And?

I didn’t need to say it aloud. I could smell the unspoken words in the air.

Fernad hesitated, then continued. “The board and I have reached a solution.”

I arched a brow. “Which is?”

He exhaled, as if preparing himself. “James…we have a buyer.”

Silence.

“I know you don’t want to sell,” he continued.

“I know this company is your family’s legacy.

But you have to be pragmatic. If you refuse, you risk losing everything.

I have come up with a solution. Sell, but retain the right to buy back your shares at the same price when this is all over.

That way, when you overcome this curse, you will still have something to return to.

It’s a generous offer, James. You won’t find a more magnanimous one. ”

I sighed, exhaustion creeping into my bones. I had no patience for this conversation. I had put off meeting them for so long until it wasn’t possible to any longer.

Slowly, I rose to my feet. The room stilled. Their eyes followed my movements with barely concealed wariness. But instead of answering, I turned toward the door.

And locked it.

Panic set in.

The humans huddled together as if proximity would save them.

“What is this, James?” Fernad’s voice wavered slightly as his gaze flickered between me, Rebecca, and Pascal.

Neither Rebecca nor Pascal answered. Instead, they moved forward, slow and predatory. Their lips curled back, sharp teeth flashing.

I let the moment stretch, let fear sink into their bones before I finally spoke.

“No one is selling anything,” I said flatly. “And we will not be having this conversation again.”

Then, I unlocked the door and walked out, leaving Rebecca and Pascal to make sure they understood exactly what I meant.

As I strode down the hall, my nose began to drip again. I caught the blood just before it fell, staring at the dark smear staining my fingers.

A second nosebleed. They had been only minutes apart.

That was unheard of. Something was really wrong.

A fresh wave of dizziness swept through me, and I reached out, steadying myself against the wall. My palm left a crimson streak on the smooth surface.

I was running out of time. Death suddenly seemed to spread its shadow over me. The uncertainty of the future brought a name to my lips.

Caroline. I had to find her.