It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it. The cry had come before, once or twice, filtering through the void and making me stir beyond my control. But this time it hit me differently. This time I felt it in my bones.
Longing. That was what it was. The desperate, overwhelming need to soothe those cries. To pick up that baby and hold them close and make everything better. To protect and love and comfort, even when I felt like I couldn’t move, even when my body refused to cooperate.
Small voices joined the wail. Children, I realized. Two of them, maybe, their words indistinct but their tones clear. Worried. Scared. Calling out for someone who wasn’t responding.
My chest hurt. My throat clogged with emotion. A lump rose that made swallowing almost impossible.
I wanted to go there. Wherever those voices were coming from, wherever that baby was crying and those children were calling, I wanted to be there. The pull was almost physical, yanking at my gut.
Then a masculine voice joined the mix. Low and soothing, trying to calm the chaos, trying to hold everything together. The same voice that had begged me to come back.
Tears ran down my cheeks. Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe I was just imagining the sensation, the way I’d imagined the ocean and the breeze. But it felt real. The sobs that took over my body felt real. The grief and the longing and the desperate, clawing need to wake up felt more real than anything I’d experienced in this void.
I wanted to go so badly.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
I needed to heal first, my mind whispered. Needed to rest. Needed to gather enough strength to break through that barrier and return to the people who were waiting for me.
So I did.
I closed my eyes in the darkness and let myself sink back into the imaginary ocean. Let the presence wrap around me again, holding me steady. Let the warmth seep into my bones and the peace settle over me.
Soon, I promised. Soon I would find my way back.
But for now, I rested.
16
— • —
Knox
“Hey, man,” Hunt said as he entered the room quietly.
It was odd, how people behaved around Lina. Some talked to her, carrying on full conversations as if she could respond at any moment. Sarah did that. She’d sit by the bed for hours, telling Lina about the baby, about the twins, about everything happening in the pack. Noah did it too, updating her on council matters and pack gossip, keeping his tone light even when his eyes were red.
Others kept quiet, tiptoeing around the room so they wouldn’t disturb her. My father was guilty of that. He’d stand by the door, staring at her still form with an expression that was awkward and stiff. He never knew what to say, so he said nothing at all.
Some couldn’t stand to look at her. Vivi had broken down crying the first time she visited, and she hadn’t been back since.She was already having such a hard time with Mika being in the hospital, and seeing Lina like this must have broken her completely. I didn’t blame her. I’d sent extra guards to check on her and the other employees, help them in whatever way they were able since they couldn’t be here themselves.
And then there were the ones who acted as if she wasn’t even there. Who walked into the room and looked right through her, focusing their attention on me instead.
Like fucking Isabella.
She’d shown up three days after Lina was admitted. I’d been sitting in this same chair, holding Lina’s hand, when the door opened and I caught a whiff of that cloying perfume she always wore.
“Knox,” she’d said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
She’d walked toward me, her hand reaching out to touch my shoulder, her eyes never once landing on my mate lying unconscious in the bed.
I’d stood up so fast the chair scraped against the floor.
“Get out.”
“What?” She’d blinked at me, all innocent confusion. “Knox, I just want to help-”
“I said get out. Now.”
