But still I stepped back.
"As you wish." I heard my own voice, hollow like it came from far away.
Layla froze, probably not expecting me to give in so easily. Her lips moved like she wanted to say something, but ultimately she just turned her head away.
I turned and left. My wolf didn't understand why I was giving our mate to another, still trying to struggle, trying to shake that bond fractured beyond repair.
Because she's in pain.
I told it.
Because we don't deserve her.
The car cut through Baltimore's night. Neon light and shadow flowed across the windows, colors melting together, blurring into nothing.
Completely. Forever. Disappear.
Her voice still echoed in my ears. My wolf howled and clawed deep in my soul, realizing this was no ordinary parting—maybe a permanent one. It still wanted to return to our mate's side.
But I couldn't selfishly trap her anymore.
My phone buzzed. I controlled the steering wheel one-handed, seeing Marcus flash on screen. Pack field commander. I answered immediately.
"Alpha!" Marcus's voice came through tense and urgent. "Border under attack!"
My body went rigid instantly.
Professional instinct switched my mind to tactical mode, but something resisted—Layla's exhausted eyes still imprinted in my mind, her resolute "disappear" still crushing my chest.
"Report." I forced down that suffocating feeling.
"They're attacking between Outposts Nine and Eleven, just like you predicted," Marcus said. "We set the ambush in advance, things went smoothly at first, but..."
He paused.
"But reinforcements suddenly appeared. A lot of them. And their strength... Alpha, nothing like those previous rogue wolves."
My brow furrowed. "Be specific."
"Their tactical coordination is extremely precise, like they've had military training," disbelief colored Marcus's voice. "And individual combat ability... it takes three of our fighters to barely hold off one enemy."
"Plus their speed, Alpha—that speed isn't normal. Faster than our fastest scouts."
Not normal.
That word focused my thoughts somewhat.
"Casualties."
Marcus fell silent for two seconds.
"Five critically wounded. Two... dead."
My fingers slowly tightened, the phone case creaking under pressure.
Two killed in action.
Two living souls. Two families.
