Page 26

Chapter

Twenty-Three

R eality slammed back into Jim with the force of a freight train.

One moment he was watching Reyes race toward Mia, the next he was on his knees in the damp soil, every cell in his body screaming in protest. The scent of ozone hung heavy in the air around him, the aftermath of temporal displacement.

"Jim!" Jasmine knelt beside him, her fingers pressing against his wrist to check his pulse. "You're back."

Blood streamed from his nose, metallic and warm against his lips. The temporal anchors beneath his skin pulsed angry red, visible through his shirt. Too many slips. Too much strain.

"Did it work?" The words came out as a hoarse whisper, his throat raw as if he'd been screaming for hours. "Is she?—"

Before anyone could answer, the soul-link blazed back to life like a star being born.

The connection that had been strained was now back in place with such force that Jim gasped, doubling over.

Through it came everything—Mia's terror, her grief, her desperate run through the forest, and underneath it all, her overwhelming relief that he still lived.

"She's alive," he breathed, tears mixing with blood on his face. "She's coming."

Bertram's face swam into his field of vision, the angel's eyes glowing faintly with concern. "Your heart rate is dangerously elevated. The venom combined with temporal displacement?—"

"I don't care." Jim grabbed Bertram's shirt, leaving bloody fingerprints on the pristine fabric. "Just keep me breathing until she gets here."

The sound of rapid footfalls broke through the forest's tense silence. Jim's wolf recognized her heartbeat before she even burst through the trees—Mia, her clothes torn, a streak of blood drying on her forehead, but gloriously, beautifully alive.

"Jim!" Relief cracked her voice as she dropped to her knees beside him, her hands cradling his face with desperate tenderness. The scent of her—pine, rain, and something uniquely Mia—washed over him, more healing than any medicine.

"You're alive." The tension drained from his body, leaving him trembling. "You're really alive." His hands came up to cover hers, needing the physical proof. "I felt you slip away. The bond went dark and I thought?—"

"I know." She pressed her forehead to his, their breath mingling. "I felt it too. Like half my soul was being torn away. But you brought me back. You found a way."

Through their reconnected bond, he felt the echo of Reyes' words: The way he loves you? That's cosmic.

Mia's eyes widened as she took in his condition—the blood, the glowing marks, the pallor of his skin. "What did you do?" Her thumbs stroked his cheekbones, wiping away blood with infinite gentleness. "Jim, what did you sacrifice?"

"He time slipped," Beatrice explained, already digging through her bag for remedies. "Twice. In his condition, it nearly?—"

"Nearly killed him," Mia finished, her voice breaking. "You nearly died trying to save me."

"Would do it again," Jim said simply. "In every timeline, in every reality. Always choose you."

"My reckless, brilliant, impossible mate," she whispered, and his heart stuttered at the word—mate, finally claimed aloud.

A haunting howl cut through the air, echoing among the trees. The sound carried pain, defiance, and a final, terrible challenge. The hairs on the back of Jim's neck stood on end as the howl wavered, then abruptly cut short.

Mia's grip on his hands tightened, her nails digging into his skin as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Reyes," she whispered. "He—he saved me. Held Matthews off so I could run."

Jim knew. He'd sent Reyes to face Matthews alone. The knowledge sat like ice in his stomach.

"He knew," Mia continued, her voice thick with grief and wonder. "About us. About how you—" She took a shuddering breath. "He said you love me like the moon loves the tide. Inevitable. Eternal. Said to be so happy it makes the moon jealous."

"Mia—"

"He died believing in our love, Jim. Died protecting it." Her eyes blazed with determination through the tears. "We can't let that be for nothing."

"We have to go back for him." Mia was already starting to rise, ready to run toward danger once again.

"Mia—" Jasmine's voice held the practiced calm of someone who'd delivered bad news hundreds of times. "That howl?—"

"I know what it means." Mia's voice hardened, but her hand found Jim's again, fingers interlacing like they were each other's lifeline. "But I can't just?—"

Another howl rose from the forest—not Reyes this time, but another wolf answering. Then another. And another. The pack was responding, converging.

"They'll be with him," Jim managed, struggling to his feet with Bertram's help. His body protested, but Mia's hand in his gave him strength. "But we need to get to the pack house. Now."

"Matthews will be coming for you both," Jasmine agreed, her hand resting on the weapon at her hip. "We need to gather the Council."

Mia's wolf instincts visibly warred with her human logic—run to a fallen packmate, or protect the pack as a whole. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded sharply. "The pack house. We end this now."

They moved as a unit through the forest, Jim leaning heavily on Bertram but his hand never leaving Mia's. Rain began to fall in earnest, soaking through their clothes and washing the blood from Jim's face in pink rivulets.

"I sent him there," Jim confessed, voice barely audible over the rainfall. "I slipped back and found Reyes. Told him you were in danger."

Mia's step faltered for just a moment. "You—what?"

"I saw you die." The words caught in his throat. "Matthews killed you. Broke your neck against that oak. I couldn't let it happen, but I couldn't intervene directly. So I found Reyes."

A dozen emotions crossed Mia's face in rapid succession—shock, confusion, grief, understanding. She stopped walking entirely, turning to face him fully in the rain.

"You saved my life by risking Reyes'."

"I didn't know?—"

"You tore through time itself for me." Her free hand came up to rest over his heart, feeling its erratic rhythm. "Risked being erased from existence. Trusted another alpha with my safety." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you have any idea what that means to me?"

"Mia—"

"It means everything," she said fiercely. "You gave Reyes the chance to die with honor. To choose his ending. And you gave me the chance to live. To come back to you."

"Always," Jim said, the word carrying centuries of weight. "In every timeline I saw, in every possible future, the only constant was trying to get back to you."

"My mate," she breathed, and kissed him there in the rain—desperate and grateful and alive. When they broke apart, she pressed her forehead to his again. "We're going to make it count. Every second he bought us."

"Every second," Jim agreed.

They resumed walking, but something fundamental had shifted. Through their bond, he felt her wolf settling—not calm, but centered. Ready.

The pack house appeared through the trees, lights blazing despite the early evening hour. Wolves in human form moved around the perimeter, already on high alert. Gerald, Mia's beta, spotted them first, rushing to meet them on the wide porch.

"Alpha," he greeted, concern etched into his weathered face. "We heard the howls. Tanner and three others went to investigate."

"Matthews is responsible," Mia said, her Alpha authority settling over her like armor. "Call the Council. Emergency session. Now."

Gerald nodded, not questioning the command despite the obvious questions in his eyes.

Inside, the pack house buzzed with activity. Wolves gathered in small groups, voices hushed but urgent. They parted for Mia as she entered, respect and concern evident in their postures.

Jasmine stepped close to Bertram, her voice low but carrying to Jim's enhanced hearing. "We need to coordinate with Supernatural Enforcement. This goes beyond pack jurisdiction if Matthews is trafficking vampire blood."

Bertram nodded, his detective persona replacing the angelic healer. "I have contacts in Enforcement. If Matthews has killed an alpha candidate during a sanctioned Challenge..."

"It's an act of war," Jasmine finished. "I'll get my old team on standby."

They broke apart, Jasmine heading for a private room to make calls, Bertram moving to the communications center in the eastern wing of the house.

Jim slumped onto a bench in the main hall, his body finally giving out after the strain of the time slips. Mia sat beside him immediately, their thighs touching, her hand still in his.

"Don't ever do that again," she murmured, low enough that only he could hear. "I can't lose you. Not when I just figured out I can't exist without you."

"Same," he admitted. "When the bond broke, I—" He shuddered. "It was like being hollowed out. Like nothing mattered anymore."

"But you still fought to save me."

"Nothing matters if you're not in the world, Mia. Nothing."

Beatrice settled on his other side, pulling out vials and pouches from her seemingly bottomless bag, politely pretending not to notice their intimate moment.

"Drink this." She handed him a small bottle filled with iridescent blue liquid. "It'll help stabilize the temporal disruption."

Jim eyed the potion skeptically. "Will it taste as bad as it looks?"

"Worse." Beatrice's smile was grim but genuine. "But it'll keep you from slipping unintentionally for the next few hours."

As Jim choked down the viscous liquid—which tasted like burnt rubber and sea salt—he watched Mia rise and move through the pack house with purposeful strides.

Despite the blood and dirt, despite the chaos around them, she embodied the Alpha she'd become.

Her voice carried across the room as she issued instructions, calm but unyielding.

But through their bond, he felt the truth—her grief for Reyes, her fear of losing Jim, her determination to protect everyone. The weight of it all.

I'm here, he sent through their connection. Always here.