"The bond," I said. "The bond completed."
Neal looked at me. Then at Stone. Then back at me.
"You did it," he said. "You actually did it."
I looked down at the man in my arms. At the face I was seeing for the first time—gaunt and damaged and beautiful in a way that made my chest ache. At the person who had been hiding inside the wolf all along, waiting for someone to find him.
Waiting for someone who wouldn't leave.
"He did it," I said. "He let go."
Stone didn't open his eyes. Didn't move. But through the bond—now complete, now stable, now real—I felt something I'd never felt from him before.
Peace.
I held him tighter.
And I stayed.
Chapter twenty-five
They tried to separate us.
Neal was giving orders—medical protocols, emergency procedures, things that required space and equipment and people who weren't me. Hands reached for Stone, trying to lift him, trying to move him to a proper bed.
He woke up screaming.
Not words—his voice couldn't form words yet. Just sound. Raw and terrified and so human it broke something in my chest. His body jackknifed off the floor, limbs flailing, eyes wild with a panic that flooded through the bond like ice water.
"Stop!" I threw myself over him, shielding him from the hands, from the faces, from everything. "Everyone stop! You're scaring him!"
"Lumi, we need to—"
"Back off!" I didn't know who I was yelling at. Didn't care. "Everyone back off. Give him space. Give him—"
Stone's hands found me. Human hands—shaking, clumsy, the fingers not quite remembering how to grip. They fisted in my shirt and pulled me closer, pulled me down until I was pressed against his chest, until my heartbeat was the only thing between him and the room full of strangers.
Through the bond, I felt his terror. Worse than anything I'd experienced from him before. Because this wasn't the terror of a wolf facing a threat—this was the terror of a man who had forgotten how to be human. Who was trapped in a body that felt wrong, surrounded by sensations he couldn't process, drowning in a vulnerability he'd spent years trying to escape.
"I'm here," I whispered. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. Just breathe. Just breathe with me."
His heart was pounding so hard I could feel it through his ribs. His breathing came in sharp, ragged gasps. But his hands didn't let go of my shirt. He held on like I was the only solid thing in a world that had turned to water.
"Everyone out." Neal's voice. Quieter now. Controlled. "Clear the room. Give them space."
Footsteps retreating. The door closing. The room getting quieter.
But not empty.
I lifted my head enough to see Neal crouched a few feet away, his medical bag open beside him, his expression caught between professional concern and something far more personal. James stood by the door—I could feel him through the bond, a storm of fear and relief and anger he didn't know what to do with. He'd stayed. Of course he'd stayed.
"Stone." I shifted carefully, trying to see his face without pulling away from him. "Stone, can you hear me?"
His eyes found mine. Gold, like they'd always been. But clearer now. The feral haze that had clouded them for weeks was fading, replaced by something raw and overwhelmed and desperately confused.
His mouth opened. His throat worked.
"...hurts."
