My wrist burned.
I screamed—from the bite, from the bond, from the searing heat that was carving itself into my skin. Through vision blurred by pain, I saw light flaring at my wrist. Saw something forming there, etching itself into my flesh like a brand.
Two arcs. Curved lines that didn't quite meet. Marking me as something I hadn't been before.
Theirs. Both of theirs.
The wolf released my hand with a sound that wasn't quite animal—high and keening, a noise of shock and pain and something almost like recognition. He staggered backward, legs buckling, body convulsing as the completed bond overwhelmed a mind that had been isolated for too long.
Too much. It was too much for him. Too much sensation, too much connection, too mucheverythingafter years of nothing.
His eyes rolled back. His body seized once, twice—and then he collapsed into the snow, utterly still.
The light at my wrist faded.
I lay there, gasping, my ruined hand cradled against my chest. The world was spinning. Everything hurt. The bond—bonds, plural, God, there were two of them now—thrummed in my chest like a second heartbeat, overwhelming and undeniable.
"Lumi!" James was scrambling out from under me, his hands on my shoulders, my face. "Lumi, look at me. Are you okay? Your hand—Christ, your hand—"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't form words. The shock was hitting now, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.
"Stay with me." James's voice was sharp with fear. "Don't you dare pass out, do you hear me? Stay with me."
I tried to focus on his face. On his voice. On the bond between us, stronger now, more present than it had ever been.
"The mark," I managed. My voice came out as a croak. "My wrist. Look."
He looked.
I felt his shock through the bond—a spike of confusion and wonder and something like awe. He took my uninjured hand, turning my wrist toward the gray light.
The mark was still there. Two arcs, perfectly curved, the lines stopping short of connection. The mark was a part of me, as permanent as bone.
"What is that?" James breathed.
"Mate mark." The words were getting harder to form. "Both of you. The bond... it completed. When I was touching both of you at once."
"Both of us." He looked from my wrist to the unconscious wolf, understanding dawning. "The feral. He's..."
"My mate." A laugh escaped me, half-hysterical. "Our mate. The bond is... it's done. It's real."
James was quiet for a long moment. Through the completed bond—God, it was so much stronger now, I could feel everything he felt—I sensed him processing. The shock. The fear. The strange, fierce joy that he couldn't quite suppress.
"Okay," he said finally. "Okay. We'll figure that out later. Right now, you're bleeding, he's unconscious, and we're in the middle of nowhere with a storm coming. Priorities."
He was right. I knew he was right. But my eyes kept drifting to the mark on my wrist, to the unconscious wolf, to the impossibility of what had just happened.
Two mates. Bonded. Complete.
Now I just had to figure out how to save the one who'd forgotten he was human.
"The first aid kit," I said. "My pack. We need to stop the bleeding and get him into shelter before—"
The world tilted.
"Lumi? Lumi!"
James caught me as I slumped, his arms solid around my shoulders. The last thing I saw before darkness took me was his face—scared and determined and so full of love it hurt to look at.
