The thought surfaces unbidden, cold beneath my relief. Faelan has come back before. Has waited, watched, struck when we felt safest. I push the fear down, but it doesn’t disappear entirely. It just settles somewhere deeper, waiting.
I scan the final readouts on my tablet, watching as the contagion readings hold steady at zero across the entire Lodge. In every bed that held a dying pack member just hours ago someone is sitting up, drinking water, or talking quietly with their loved ones. I can barely process the magnitude of what we’ve accomplished.
“Final checks complete,” I announce, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “The bond suppression technique worked perfectly. All pack connections restored to normal strength with no residual corruption.”
Across the room, Callum moves from bed to bed, checking each recovering pack member. The rigid tension he’s carried since this crisis began has finally eased from his shoulders. When he catches me watching, he doesn’t look away like he usually does. Instead, his amber eyes hold mine, warm with something that makes my breath catch.
We did this together. He knows it too.
“How do you feel?” he asks Dane, who sits upright beside Nova, their hands intertwined.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck, then run over again for good measure,” Dane replies with a weak smile. “But the pack bonds—they feel clean. Stronger, even.”
Nova nods, her violet eyes bright with relief. “Whatever Lyanna did, it worked completely. I can sense everyone clearly.”
I move to disconnect the monitoring equipment from Ben, who gives me a tired nod of thanks. “That was brilliant,” he says quietly. “Dampening the bonds to starve the contamination—not something anyone else would have thought of.”
“Just doing my job,” I murmur, though the praise warms me.
Callum appears at my side with a bottle of water and a protein bar. “You’ve barely slept in four days,” he says, his voice low. “And I know you skipped the last two meals I brought you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, accepting both. His scent washes over me—cedar and something warm beneath, cut through with the sharp edge of exhaustion. I breathe it in without meaning to, suddenly aware of how close he’s standing, how his body angles toward mine like he’s shielding me from the room.
“You saved the pack,” Dane says, his voice carrying clear authority despite his weakened state. “Lyanna, what you did today—there aren’t words.”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “It was everyone. The entire healing team.”
“But it was your breakthrough,” Nyxiana points out. “Your understanding of how the contamination worked was what made the cure possible.”
Callum’s hand brushes my shoulder, the touch gentle but grounding. “She’s right. Without you, we’d have lost half the pack today.”
Our eyes meet again, and I see something new there—not just respect or gratitude, but something deeper, more personal. Something that makes my heart skip despite my exhaustion.
Kieran smiles weakly from his bed, where Cassie sits beside him. “I think this calls for a celebration once everyone’s properly recovered.”
Mateo practically bounces with excitement. “I’ll help organize it! Best recovery party ever!”
As the laughter fades, I feel Callum’s eyes on me. When I look up, he doesn’t glance away. Just holds my gaze, steady and warm, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
I’m too exhausted to examine what that look means. Too drained to think about anything beyond the next few hours.
But I file it away. Something to consider later, when the world stops spinning, and I can breathe again.
My knees buckle without warning.
Callum catches me before I hit the floor, his arms solid around my waist. “Easy,” he murmurs against my hair. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m fine—“
“You’re done.” His voice brooks no argument. “Nyxiana and Elysia can handle monitoring. You need sleep.”
I want to protest, but exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. The last thing I register is Callum’s cedar scent and the steady beat of his heart as he guides me toward the door.
Chapter 7
Callum
The great room thrums with celebration. Just yesterday, this same space was filled with makeshift hospital beds and the copper-metal stench of contamination. Now it buzzes with laughter, conversation, and the healthy flow of pack energy.
