Page 29 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

I slump deeper into the chair beside Dahlia's bed, my ass numb from sitting in the same spot for the past twelve hours.

Nine days. She's been like this for nine days, and the doctors still have no answers.

The beep of the monitors creates a hypnotic rhythm that haunts my dreams when I manage to sleep.

I trace circles on the back of her hand. She doesn't look sick, just peaceful, as if she might open her eyes any moment and ask why we all look so worried.

"I sat with the babies today," I tell her, though I know she can't hear me. "They're getting stronger. Our daughter has your nose, you know. And the boys... God, Dahlia, you're going to love them a lot when you wake up."

I check my watch. Another day is almost gone. Another day without her smile, her voice, and her fire. The specialists Evan flew in from Switzerland and Japan offered the same prognosis as everyone else. Wait and see. Her body heals, but something keeps her consciousness locked away.

"The doctors say talking helps," I continue. "That somewhere deep down, you might hear us. I hope that's true. I hope you know we're all here, waiting for you to come back to us."

I've slept maybe ten hours in total since we brought her home, mostly in short bursts in this chair. I fight it now, determined to keep vigil, but my body betrays me.

"I'll just rest my eyes," I mumble, keeping my hand still wrapped around hers.

I open my eyes to find myself in a forest unlike any I've seen before. Ancient pines tower overhead, their trunks wider than cars, and the moonlight filters through the canopy in misty shafts. The air feels charged and electric, as if a thunderstorm is brewing just out of sight.

This place... I know it somehow. It's like a primordial memory encoded in my DNA.

"Nine days, and you sit by her side like a toothless cub."

I spin around and face the source of the voice. It's my grandfather. He's not the frail old man who died when I was sixteen. He's standing nearly seven feet tall, with his massive frame draped in furs and leather. His eyes glow amber in the darkness, like an Alpha in his prime.

"Grandfather," I whisper, the word almost reverent.

"Pathetic," he snarls in the old bear tongue, a language I haven't heard since childhood. "Why do you sit there like a helpless human while your mate's spirit drifts further into the shadow realm? Have you forgotten everything I taught you? Have you forgotten the ways of our people?"

I step back, shocked by the venom in his words. "The doctors say..."

His roar cuts me off, and it shakes the massive trees around us.

"Medicine!" he spits the word like poison.

"What do human healers know of the soul?

Of bonds that transcend flesh?" He stalks toward me, his form shifting between man and bear with each step, never fully one or the other.

"Your mate doesn't need their machines. She needs the ancient power that flows in your blood. "

"What power? What are you talking about?" I demand, "I've tried everything!"

"No." My grandfather circles me like prey. "You've tried everything the human world offers. But you are not human, Leo. Neither is she."

"There is a way," he says. "A ritual from the oldest days, when our kind walked this earth as gods."

"Then tell me."

"The Ritual of the Bonds." His massive hand clasps my shoulder. "When a bonded mate's spirit becomes lost between the world of living and the realm of shadows, her Alpha can call her back."

"How?" I ask,

"Listen well, for I will speak this only once." My grandfather says, "The ritual must be performed at the darkest hour, when the veil between worlds thins."

"The darkest hour?"

"Three hours past midnight," he clarifies. "All four Alphas must be present... all who share her bond. No exceptions."

I nod.

"Form a perfect circle around her body," he continues. "Each Alpha must place one hand on her head, heart, hands, feet, and join your free hands to form an unbroken chain."

"And then what?"

"Then you must synchronize your heartbeats and breathing as one entity."

It sounds impossible, but I hold my tongue.

"Ancient words must be spoken in the old tongue to open the pathway between worlds," he explains. "Your combined life force will create a beacon to guide her spirit home."

"That's it? We just need to say some words and..."

"Fool!" My grandfather backhands me with such force that I stumble backward. "This isn't some parlor trick! This ritual demands everything you have. If your bonds are not true, if your love wavers for even an instant, her spirit may be pulled deeper into shadow."

I rub my jaw. "And if we fail?"

His eyes narrow. "If you fail, she will be lost forever."

The forest falls silent around us, and not even the whisper of wind disturbs the trees.

"Teach me the words," I say.

My grandfather nods and begins to speak in a language far older than the bear tongue I know. The sounds scrape against my ears, and he makes me repeat each phrase, correcting my pronunciation until the words burn into my memory.

"The ritual can only be attempted once," he warns as the forest begins to fade around us. "If it fails, the pathway closes forever. Choose wisely."

"Wait!" I reach for him as he and the forest dissolve into mist. "I need to know..."

My eyes snap open, and I'm back in the room. The clock on the wall reads exactly 3:00 AM.

I bolt upright, and my heart pounds against my ribs. That wasn't just a dream. It felt more real than the chair beneath me, more real than the antiseptic smell of the room.

"Evan," I say, shaking his shoulder. He is dozing off in the recliner across from me, his normally perfect appearance rumpled from the days of constant vigil.

"Evan, wake up."

He jerks awake, alert in an instant. "What? Is she..."

"No change," I say quickly. "But I need you to call Onyx and Axl. Tell them to get here now. It's important."

To his credit, Evan doesn't question me. He pulls out his phone and makes the calls.

Thirty minutes later, all four of us gather around Dahlia's bed.

"You want us to try some ancient bear shifter magic ritual?" Evan asks when I finish explaining my dream. "Based on a dream?"

"It wasn't just a dream," I insist. "I can't explain it, but I know it was real."

Onyx leans against the wall and crosses his arms. "I believe you. Old magic still exists," he says thoughtfully.

"I'll try anything," Axl says. "It's been nine days, and the doctors have done fuck all. What do we have to lose?"

"Everything, if Leo's grandfather was right about failure," Evan points out.

I cross the room, grab Evan's shoulders, and force him to look at me.

"You've thrown millions at the best medical minds on the planet, and none of them can tell us a damn thing about why she won't wake up.

This is Dahlia we're talking about. Our mate.

The mother of our children. If there's even a chance. .."

Something in Evan's expression shifts.

"Tell us what to do," he says.

I check the time, and it's 3:40 AM, still within the darkest hour.

"Close the door," I instruct. "Dim the lights."

Axl adjusts the switch until the room fills with shadows. Onyx locks the door and returns to the bedside.

"Form a circle around the bed," I direct them.

They move into position without argument.

"Each of us needs to place one hand on Dahlia," I explain. "Evan, place your hand on her forehead. Axl, her right hand. Onyx, her left. I'll place mine on her feet."

We position ourselves, and I feel a shift in the air. It's subtle, but it's unmistakable.

"Now we'll join our free hands," I continue. "We need to form an unbroken circle."

We hold hands and complete the circle.

"Now we need to breathe together," I say. "Slow and deep. Try to match mine."

It's awkward at first, but we soon create a harmony. The sound of the monitor attached to Dahlia now feels intrusive in the space we've made.

"I'll speak the words my grandfather taught me," I tell them. "Focus on Dahlia. Picture her spirit, call her with your bond, and pour everything you feel for her into this moment."

I close my eyes and repeat the words I'd just learnt.

"Vish'na torda elim. Seph'ra mendi ko'ran."

The air in the room thickens, becomes charged like the forest in my dream. I feel the energy pulse between our joined hands.

"Bala'dur eth tamin. Ka'vir seph eloth."

"Mendi ko'ran eth'vir. Seph'ra elim torda... Vish'na torda ELIM!"

I say the final word with a power that doesn't belong to me alone. The monitors attached to Dahlia go haywire, and the alarms blare before suddenly falling silent. The room fills with golden light that seems to emanate from Dahlia herself.

Her body glows, and her chest rises in a deep breath. Her eyelids flutter and for one perfect moment, I know we've succeeded. The ritual worked, and she's coming back to us.

Then, like a candle blown out by a sudden gust, the golden light vanishes—the hospital equipment returns to normal. The air loses its charge, and Dahlia's breathing settles back into the same shallow rhythm as before.

"No!" I cry out, "Fuck! It should have worked!"

The circle breaks as I lunge toward Dahlia, clutching her shoulders. "Dahlia! Come back to us!"

She remains motionless, unchanged. The monitors resume their monotonous beeping, mocking our attempt.

"Maybe we did something wrong," Axl says, "Maybe we can try again."

I shake my head, "We only get one chance. The ritual can only be performed once."

"Then it failed," Evan says.

"No," Onyx rumbles. "Something happened. We all felt it."

I step back from the bed, "But she didn't wake up."

"That doesn't mean the ritual failed," Onyx insists. "Magic like this... doesn't always work the way we expect."

I want to believe him. I desperately want to believe our attempt made a difference, accomplished something. But as I look at Dahlia's peaceful, motionless face, it crushes the hope I had.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I thought I could bring her back."

Evan places a hand on my shoulder. "We all did our best."

Axl slumps into the chair I vacated earlier. "So now what?"

"We wait," Evan says. "We keep doing what we've been doing. We talk to her, we care for the babies, we don't give up."

Except they don't know that we might have sent her soul into the shadows.