Page 111 of Their Mate

Zara’s pack crashed in from the ridge like a second storm—Magnus an avalanche, Thorne a storm, Killian fire and fury, Callum speed and agility with teeth, and the massive Tobias, inescapable doom to his enemies.

And then the Accord. Bishop barking orders that cut through the din, Griff pulling the limbs off a lycan with his bare hands, Noxsliding through shadows, Eamon dragging men back from death with his blood-soaked hands.

Then there was Tamsin at their head—until she wasn’t.

I saw it happen from my vantage point, too far away to stop it. She cut down one lycan, then another, but a third came low, clever, jaws locking deep into her ribs. Her knife found its eye, and it fell, but it left half her side torn open.

She staggered, fell to one knee, blood spilling fast and hot. Eamon was there in a blink, pressing down hard. Nox howled, rage tearing from his chest. Griff, his grin gone, and Bishop flanked them, furiously protective.

I swore under my breath and grabbed my rifle. Enough watching. Enough letting Dane’s madness play out.

“On me,” I snarled to the soldiers huddled at my side. Their eyes widened. They’d heard me speak like this before, back when I drilled them into something that could pass for a unit. They moved behind me without question.

We plunged down into the meat grinder, gunfire ripping into lycans, knives flashing when the guns clicked dry. The Watch was no longer holding a line. Now we were fragments, scattered men and women pulled into the lycans’ orbit, all of us just trying to survive another minute.

That was when I reached them.

Sera was on her knees, her blade still dripping, blue eyes wide and wild. Logan stood at her shoulder, human again, his bare chest slick with blood. The others hovered close, swaying with fatigue, smeared with gore. Zara’s pack was regrouping, breathing hard.

And then there was Tamsin.

She lay propped against the rock, skin pale, lips tinged blue. Eamon pressed his whole weight into her side, blood pouring between his fingers. Griff knelt so close to her, his enormous shoulders shaking with rage. Bishop’s knife hung loose in his grip, his eyes wet though his face stayed set. Nox stood with his head bowed, hissing breath between his clenched teeth. Eamon’s voice was quiet, but even I could hear the futility in it. “She’s slipping. The infection’s in the blood. It’s already spreading.”

“She’ll turn into a lycan,” Sera whispered. Her voice broke.

The packs stilled. Even in the wreckage, everyone understood what that meant.

Tamsin’s eyes found mine. Somehow, she smiled. “Don’t let me.”

“No.” Griff shook his head so hard that blood sprayed from his hair. “No! We’ll find a way.”

For a heartbeat, no one moved. I could almost hear their hearts beating.

Then I stepped forward.

“I’ll do it. I can save her.”

My words cut through the horror of the moment. Every head turned toward me. I vaguely noted narrowed eyes, confused faces, and the sound of low growls from deep in the chests of brave wolves. Tamsin just looked at me, calm and unafraid.

I crouched beside her, laid my hand gently on her shoulder.

“It’s time they knew the truth anyway. I’m one of them, a natural born wolf,” I said, my voice quiet, carrying through the silence.

Sera’s eyes filled with tears. “Elias…”

“I hid because I had to,” I said, my chest heavy with the weight of my lie. “The Watch would’ve killed me. But I’m done hiding.”

The packs bristled, torn between fury and disbelief. When Tamsin’s eyes found mine, I felt the bond root and bloom in my chest. The realization nearly dropped me to my knees.

My mate.

Tamsin’s bloody hand found mine. Her whisper was faint but firm.

“Do it.”

The End