“I’ve been looking at who’s affected versus who isn’t,” she says slowly. “There’s a pattern beyond just mated pairs—and it’s not about species.”
Elysia moves from Amara’s bedside, joining our huddle. “Exactly. We’ve got wolves down, but also Nova—who’s fae-wolf hybrid. Amara and Gabriel have earth magic. Nyxiana’s angel-vampire-dragon heritage didn’t protect her. Ben has angel blood from his Shadow Peak lineage, and he’s down too.”
“And none of us healers are affected,” Isla adds, looking up from Connor. “I’m wolf-angel, Lyanna’s fae, Elysia’s half-angel—but our mixed heritage isn’t what saved us. Harper’s wolf with angel blood, but she’s fine.”
The infirmary door opens, and Callum enters. My pulse immediately quickens at the sight of him—his dark eyes scanning the room with protective intensity, his broad shoulders tense. Even amid crisis, my body betrays me with its awareness of him. He moves through the space with purpose, checking sightlines and exits before approaching us.
“Any progress?” he asks, his voice low.
Harper frowns as she looks from Callum to Ben’s unconscious form. “You’re both unmated wolves in pack leadership. So why is Ben down and you’re not?”
The question hangs in the air. I feel Callum’s proximity like heat against my skin as I consider Harper’s observation. His scent—raw cedar and smoke—fills my senses, making it harder to concentrate.
Nyxiana pauses in her work, her violet eyes thoughtful. “I just arrived at Ash Hollow a few months ago. I haven’t... I don’t have connections here yet.”
Something clicks into place. I look at Callum standing slightly apart from us, his posture revealing how he holds himself separate. Harper, focused and analytical, her emotional energy directed almost exclusively toward Ben. Nyxiana, still finding her footing in a new pack. Me, trained since childhood to maintain professional distance.
“It’s not about species or mating status,” I say quietly, meeting Callum’s eyes. “It’s about how deeply someone has opened themselves to the pack.”
Understanding dawns in his face.
“Ben,” I continue, my voice steadying as the pattern crystallizes. “He’s not mated, but he’s the emotional anchor of Ash Hollow. Every new member, every struggling wolf—Ben’s the one who sits with them, listens to them, makes them feel they belong. His heart is open to the pack.”
“While Callum...” Harper trails off, glancing between us.
She doesn’t finish, but I understand completely. Callum keeps everyone at arm’s length. His distance isn’t coldness—it’s armor.
The irony isn’t lost on me. The trait I’ve found most frustrating about him is what kept him standing while the pack collapsed around us.
I sink onto a stool. “Faelan has weaponized connection itself. Those who guard their hearts stayed protected. Those who love openly became targets.”
Callum approaches with my water bottle, freshly filled. As I reach for it, our fingers brush. The contact is brief, barely a second, but once again I feel it like a spark against dry kindling.
“You need to rest,” he says quietly. The words are practical, but his eyes hold mine a beat too long.
“We all do,” I deflect, taking a long drink to avoid looking at him.
Callum’s jaw tightens. When he speaks, his voice is low. “So, the walls we built...”
“Kept us alive,” I finish quietly.
Our eyes meet. I see the same bitter understanding in his face that I feel twisting in my chest. We’re both guarded people. Both safe because of it. Both perhaps lonelier than we’d ever admit.
Around us the unconscious pack members serve as proof of what happens when you love openly in a world this cruel.
Chapter 5
Callum
Three days in and I’ve stopped tracking time by hours.
I move quickly through the medical hall, bringing fresh water and clean linens to the healers. It’s a balance of staying useful without crowding them—giving them room to work while ensuring they have everything they need. My eyes keep returning to Lyanna, watching as exhaustion etches deeper lines around her eyes with each passing hour.
“Temperature’s rising again,” Harper announces, her voice clinical but strained as she checks Dane’s vitals. “One-zero-four point two. Corruption levels are spiking.”
I set down fresh towels beside her. “What do you need?”
“Nothing helps for more than an hour,” Harper says, not looking up from her notes. “We stabilize them, then they crash harder.”
