The compound falls silent as we cross it. Footsteps halt mid-stride. Conversations die. Heads turn.
Through fragmented vision, I catch it all: Ben’s hand freezing halfway to his mouth. Marcus lowering his clipboard. Kari’s spine going rigid. Mateo stepping back. Callum, with something like anger on his face. All of them watching.
No one approaches. No one calls out. No one asks.
Dane doesn’t acknowledge any of them. His focus narrows to the path ahead, his steps measured and unwavering. Blood seeps through his shirt and onto mine where our bodies press together. His heartbeat drums against my palm—too fast, too hard, revealing what his face won’t.
Rafe walks three paces behind us, a shadow with purpose. Lyanna trails beside him, hands still glowing faintly with unused healing magic.
A young wolf—Riley—steps forward, then thinks better of it. His eyes drop to the ground as we pass.
My head lolls against Dane’s shoulder as pain spikes through my temple. His arms tighten fractionally. The only response he’ll allow himself.
We reach his cabin. The door swings open without either of us touching it—Lyanna’s magic, subtle and precise. The scent hits me immediately: Dane. Everywhere. His soap, his sweat, his blood. Now mine too.
He lays me on his bed. Not gently. Not roughly. Just ... efficiently. The mattress dips as my weight settles. My limbs sprawl uselessly, refusing to arrange themselves in any functional way.
Lyanna moves to the bedside, already murmuring healing incantations. Rafe positions himself by the window, gaze fixed on the treeline outside.
Dane steps back exactly two feet. No more, no less. Just enough for Lyanna to work. His shirt clings to his chest, soaked through with blood—his, mine, impossible to tell anymore. He makes no move to clean himself, to check his own wounds. His eyes track Lyanna’s every movement as her hands hover over me.
“I need to check her resonance pathways,” Lyanna says, not looking up. “This will hurt.”
She presses her fingers to my temples. Pain explodes behind my eyes like shattered glass. I don’t make a sound. Don’t need to. Dane flinches for me.
Lyanna works in silence after that. Rafe doesn’t speak. Dane doesn’t move.
Outside the cabin, I hear footsteps approach, then retreat. The pack circling, scenting, processing. No one dares knock.
When Lyanna finally steps back, her face is drawn with effort. “She needs rest. And you”— she turns to Dane—“need healing.”
Dane says nothing. His eyes find mine for the first time since the portal. No words. No movement.
Just the look that says what his silence can’t.
Lyanna steps toward him, hands still glowing with healing energy. “Your turn. That gash needs treatment before infection sets in.”
Dane doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t acknowledge her at all. His focus remains locked on me, as if breaking that connection might cause me to disappear.
Lyanna sighs, the sound sharp with frustration. “Dane. I need to check that wound.”
His jaw tightens. That’s it. His only response.
“Fine.” Lyanna’s hands dim as she pulls back her magic. “But when you pass out from blood loss, this pack loses its Alpha—and that’s on you.” She packs her supplies with quick, efficient movements. “I’ll send clean bandages for her. The rest is up to you.”
Rafe pushes away from the wall, his movement silent despite his size. He pauses at the door, eyes finding mine over Dane’s shoulder. Something passes across his face. He’s seen this before. The look says he understands what it costs. What it means.
What it risks.
The door clicks shut behind them. The cabin feels suddenly larger, emptier, with just the two of us. Outside, footsteps circle the perimeter—wolves patrolling, or maybe just hovering, uncertain what to do next.
“Thank you,” I manage, the words scratchy and raw. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed glass.
Dane doesn’t answer. His eyes track me, cataloging injuries, assessing threats. Blood still seeps from the gash on his arm. He hasn’t even checked it.
“Sit.” I gesture weakly to the edge of the bed. “You’re making me dizzy.”
For a moment I think he’ll refuse this too. Then he lowers himself to the edge of the mattress.
