“Don’t,” his brother mouthed.
There was so much packed into that single word.
Don’t blame yourself.
Don’t spiral.
Don’t lose focus.
Don’t assume Danny is dead.
They moved like ghosts through the kitchen into a narrow hallway, heading deeper into the house, checking the rooms as they passed them.
Family photos lined the walls in mismatched frames. Danny as a kid, gap-toothed and smiling. An older girl who must’ve been Laura. Their mom, younger, happier. Normal family memories that felt obscene given what Ash was smelling.
He paused at the base of the stairs, listening. No sound from above. No footsteps, no voices, nothing. Just that same oppressive silence pressing down from every corner.
Ash signaled toward the living room. With every step the blood smell grew stronger.
They rounded the corner together, and Ash stopped dead.
A small creature lay on the floor, ringed tail curled protectively around itself. A red panda, curled on its side, auburn fur matted with blood. Isaac, the mouthy red panda who annoyed the shit out of Ash. Rage burned hot through him.
Dropping to his knees beside it, he checked for breathing. The panda’s ribs rose and fell in shallow breaths. Its heartbeat fluttered under his palm, faint but steady.
Isaac was alive, healing in his animal form. Relief engulfed Ash. Shifters healed in their animal forms, but more serious wounds took time.
Movement caught his eye. Aiden was pointing across the room, toward a door Ash hadn’t noticed before.
Ash stood slowly, inhaling deeply. He picked up Danny’s scent again, stronger now. He moved to the door and pulled it open carefully. A basement. His mate was down there.
Wooden steps descended into darkness. A single bulb hung from the ceiling below, casting weak yellow light over concrete and exposed beams.
I’m coming for you, baby. Ash would always show up for his mate. The Pull wasn’t attraction. Wasn’t chemistry. Wasn’t a flutter or spark. It was a lethal strike of lightning that electrocuted reason and burned away choice.
Nature's failsafe against extinction, designed to prevent their species from devolving into feral predators with blood-slick canines, leaving only carnage in their wake.
Mates weren’t just sacred, they were survival itself, carved into cellular memory. When Ash recognized Danny as his, his body transformed from a loaded weapon into something with purpose. The safety clicked off, aim perfected.
Threatening Danny wasn’t just crossing a line.
It was stepping willingly into a grave Ash would dig with his bare hands.
He descended the stairs, Aiden right behind him. The basement smelled like damp concrete and mildew. Unfinished walls, exposed pipes running along the ceiling. The single bulb hung from a wire, casting harsh shadows across the space. And there, in the center of it all, stood his honey bear.
He was alive. Unhurt. But his face was streaked with tears, his hands shaking at his sides.
And standing with a gun pointed directly at Danny’s was a man Ash didn’t recognize. Tall, dark-haired, handsome in the kind of way that probably made people trust him too easily.
The human didn’t flinch at the growl rumbling through Ash’s chest. He should’ve.
“It’s Brad,” Danny murmured.
Oh, the son of a bitch was definitely going to die. Rage poured through Ash, icy and controlled. His bear demanded blood. Demanded vengeance. Demanded this man’s throat between its teeth.
“Put. The gun. Down.” Ash’s voice was cold anticipation.
“Who the hell are you?” His eyes didn't blink. Neither did Ash’s.
