"Stone," I said.
"That's not—"
"It's what I call you. It's what you are to me." I squeezed his hands. "You're not nothing. You're not no one. You're my mate. The bond doesn't make mistakes."
Something shifted in his expression. Disbelief giving way to something more fragile. Something that looked almost like hope.
"Mate," he repeated. Like he was testing the word. Tasting it.
"Yes."
"I don't... I don't know what that means anymore."
"That's okay." I managed a small smile. "I'm still figuring it out myself."
Neal approached slowly, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal. Which, in a way, he was.
"Stone." His voice was calm. Professional. "I'm Neal. I'm a healer. I've been monitoring your condition since you arrived."
Stone's grip on my hands tightened. Through the bond, I felt suspicion. Fear. The instinctive wariness of someone who had learned that people in authority couldn't be trusted.
"He's one of mine," I said softly. "He's safe."
Stone's eyes moved from Neal to me. Back to Neal.
"...yours?"
"My mate. Like you."
Something complicated moved across Stone's face. The concept of sharing—of being part of something larger than a pair—was clearly foreign to him. Or maybe it had been familiar once, before everything that had broken him.
"I need to check your vitals," Neal said. "Make sure the shift didn't cause any additional damage. Can I do that?"
Stone didn't answer. Just looked at me.
"I'll stay right here," I promised. "He won't hurt you."
A long moment. Then, slowly, Stone nodded.
Neal moved closer. His hands were gentle as he checked Stone's pulse, his temperature, his pupils. Stone flinched at every touch—small, involuntary jerks that he couldn't seem to control. But he didn't pull away. Didn't attack.
Progress.
"Vitals are stabilizing," Neal said quietly. "The organ failure has reversed—completely, as far as I can tell. The bond completion did exactly what we hoped."
"But?" I heard the hesitation in his voice.
"But his system is under enormous strain. The shift took a lot out of him. He's going to need rest. Nutrition. Time." Neal's eyes met mine. "And he's probably not going to be able to hold human form for long. Not at first."
Stone made a sound. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sob.
"Wolf," he said. "Always back to wolf."
"For now," I said firmly. "Not forever. The gray one held human form for four seconds. You've been human for—" I looked at Neal.
"Approximately twelve minutes."
"Twelve minutes. That's progress."
