“This is not your fault, beloved,”Lucian said through their bond.“There is a time for everything in this life, including a time to die. It is devastating. It leaves a hole in those left behind that may never be filled. But it is also necessary. Nobody deserves to live in this life forever. Where there is sickness, darkness, anguish, evil, and hate. Jewel and Dalton are with our Creator. They are at peace and will know nothing but the joy of the Great Luna from here on out. We will mourn, but we will not take on the burden of their deaths.”
Peri knew her mate was right. But at the moment all she could see were the bodies of two people she cared for deeply. And that she would never hear Jewel spout a random fact or have to subdue Dalton from being an ass ever again.
Jewel’s face was pale in the moonlight, her strawberry blonde hair splayed around her like a halo. Peri’s throat tightened as she watched Sally, Stella, Anna, Kara, and Rachel kneel around Jewel, their hands trembling as they reached for her. They didn’t need to say anything. Peri knew they could feel the severed bond that left them hollow.
Heather stumbled toward the group, her hands gripping Kale’s arm as he led her, his lips moving as he leaned down and spoke in her ear. One of her hands came up to cover her mouth as her blind eyes darted around as if she’d be able to see where Jewel lay. Peri knew that the soft cries of the other healers could have guided her to them just as well as her mate. When Kale stopped next to Stella, the other healer reached up and took Heather’s hand as she crumpled to the ground. Kale’s hands grabbed Heather’s waist to help ease her so she wouldn’t hurt herself.
“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “No, no, no.” She reached out, and Kara guided Heather’s hand to touch Jewel’s arm. Whatever composure she'd been holding onto fled, as her head fell forward until it rested against Jewel, and Heather’s shoulders shook with her sobs.
Kale knelt behind his mate and wrapped his arms around her, his voice low and steady as he tried to comfort her. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”
Kara pressed a hand to her chest, as tears rolled down her face. Nick was hovering over her, his face tight with pain and rage. She looked up at him as though he was the only one she could handle seeing at the moment. “I felt it,” she choked out. “I felt her leave.” She pounded the place over her heart as she wept. “The bond, the strand that bound us together so tightly, it’s gone. She’s gone.” The last words came out in a strangled cry, and it was obvious to Peri that Nick couldn’t stand it any longer. He dropped to the ground and pulled his mate into his lap, wrapping her tightly in his embrace.
“I’ve got you, mate.” Nick growled as his eyes glowed with his beast. “You can let go. I’ll hold you together, yeah?” And Kara did let go. Her body trembled so hard that Peri worried she would be sick.
Peri turned away, unable to watch the raw grief in each of the healers' eyes. It was too much. Her own magic quivered inside her, the weight of the loss threatening to rip her apart. She had led them here. Peri had sought out each of these healers and practically shoved them into these supernatural battles, into this life. And she had failed them.
Suddenly, the air was filled with a low, mournful howl that vibrated through the clearing, carrying with it an unbearable weight of sorrow. Peri turned sharply, her chest tightening at the sound. Dillon, Dalton’s alpha, stood at the edge of the carnage, his broad shoulders trembling as his head tilted back toward the starless sky. His face was a mask of pain, his eyes closed tightly as though shutting out the world might somehow ease the agony tearing through him.
The sound was deep, guttural, and filled with a grief so profound that it echoed through the trees and into the very earth beneath them. His wolf was surfacing, unable to stay hidden in the face of such devastation, and the power of his anguish rippled outward, brushing against the others in the clearing like a cold wind. Tanya clung to him, her forehead pressed to his back as she tried to comfort her mate.
Peri’s heart ached as she watched him drop to his knees, his hands digging into the dirt as though the simple act of grounding himself might somehow dull the sharp edges of his loss. His breaths came in jagged gasps between the howls, his body shaking with the weight of his grief. For a moment, it seemed as though the entire clearing held its breath, the mournful cry consuming everything, leaving no room for words or attempts at comfort.
This wasn’t just the cry of an alpha mourning the loss of his second-in-command. It was the sound of a bond breaking, of a heart shattering. It was the sound of a man who had not only lost someone he trusted with his life but someone who had been a part of his soul, and the loss would ripple through the entire Colorado pack.
Dillon’s howl, raw and unrelenting, continued to tear through the night, and as if drawn by an invisible force, the other wolves began to join him. One by one, their voices rose, weaving together in a haunting symphony of grief and loss. The sound was both beautiful and devastating—primal in a way that Peri could feel deep in her bones. It wasn’t just noise. It was emotion made tangible—a collective mourning that seemed to stretch beyond the clearing and into the very fabric of the world.
Peri’s breath hitched as Lucian, her mate, tilted his head back and added his voice to the chorus. His howl was deeper, steadier, but no less anguished. She felt the vibration of it in the air, but more than that, it flowed through their bond. The grief hit her like a tidal wave, crashing into her chest and leaving her gasping. Lucian wasn’t just mourning Dalton; he was mourning for Dillon, for the pack, for the loss of something irreplaceable. His emotions poured into her through the mate bond, raw and unfiltered—the sorrow of a wolf who had seen too much death and carried too many scars.
Her knees buckled, and she stumbled backward, catching herself against the rough bark of a tree. The air seemed too thick to breathe, heavy with the weight of so many emotions. It was as if the howls carried not just the pain of the present but the echoes of every loss these wolves had ever endured. Each note was a thread of anguish, woven together into a tapestry of heartbreak that stretched endlessly.
Peri closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the mate bond was relentless. Lucian’s pain was her pain, his wolf’s sorrow clawing at her heart with every rise and fall of his voice. She pressed a hand to her chest, as though trying to hold herself together, but it was useless. The grief was too big, too overwhelming.
She opened her eyes and scanned the clearing, her gaze lingering on each wolf as they threw their heads back and howled. Fane’s voice was the loudest, his alpha power resonating through the pack bond and amplifying the others. Jacque pressed herself against him. Her face was streaked with tears as she tried to absorb his pain through their own bond. Wadim and Zara stood close together, and their howls mingled in perfect harmony, while Decebel and Jen’s voices carried a sharp edge of fury beneath their mourning. It wasn’t just torment—it was a promise. A promise to remember, to fight, to make this loss mean something.
The gypsy healers had all stood up, frozen, their faces pale as they watched the wolves. Even though all the healers, except Rachel weren’t wolves, they could feel the power in the air, the raw emotion that seemed to seep into the ground beneath their feet. Heather clung to Kale, her fingers digging into his arm as if anchoring herself against the storm of sorrow. Stella, stoic beside her mate, Ciro, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking as the howls surrounded her.
Peri’s gaze locked on Dillon again. He was still on his knees, his hands clenched into fists against the earth, his body wracked with shudders. Tanya had knelt with him, holding him close as he released his pain into the night, letting it carry away some small piece of the unbearable weight on his soul.
A soft whimper escaped Peri’s lips, unbidden, as Lucian’s howl hit a new pitch. The depth of his sadness cut through her like a knife. She reached for the bond between them, trying to soothe him, but her own grief only fed the storm raging between them. Her fingers curled into the bark of the tree, her nails digging into the rough surface as she fought to stay standing.
“This is too much.I can’t?—”
But then Lucian’s voice softened, just slightly, and she felt his wolf reaching back through the bond, steadying her even as his own pain threatened to drown him. “I’m here.”he whispered in her mind. “We’ll survive this. Together.”
The words were a lifeline, and Peri clung to them, breathing deeply as she let her mate’s presence anchor her. Slowly, she opened her eyes again and let the sight of the pack remind her of why they were here.
This grief wasn’t just an end—it was a beginning. It was a call to arms, a reminder of what they were fighting for. Jewel and Dalton had given their lives for this battle, and the wolves would not let that sacrifice be in vain.
As the howls finally began to fade, the clearing fell into a heavy silence once more. Dillon remained on his knees, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Lucian lowered his head slowly. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. Peri stepped toward him, her legs unsteady but determined. She reached for his hand, and he took it, his grip firm and grounding.
They were broken, yes, but they were not defeated. Not yet.
After several minutes of silence, Jen’s voice broke, her usual humor tinged with bitterness. “As cathartic as that was, we need to make a plan.” She looked at Peri and then at Fane. “Without trying to sound heartless–”
“You’re failing miserably,” Crina muttered.
“Noted,” Jen said and then continued. “There will be a time to mourn. But right now, we need to pull it together.”
