The alpha started fighting the restraints two hours into the descent.
It began as twitching — muscles spasming, paws jerking against the straps. Then the twitching became movement, purposeful and increasingly violent. His eyes were still closed, but his body was waking up, the sedatives losing their grip.
"Neal," I said sharply.
"I know. I know." He was already digging through his medical bag, pulling out another syringe. "I'm going to try a smaller dose. Just enough to keep him under until we reach—"
The alpha's eyes snapped open.
Golden. Blazing. Fixed directly on me.
Through the bond, I felt him surface — felt the moment consciousness returned and found only fury. He didn't know where he was. Didn't understand what was happening. Just knew that he was trapped, bound, being taken somewhere against his will.
And I was responsible.
The growl that ripped from his throat made the air vibrate.
"Everyone back," James commanded, putting himself between me and the sled. "Neal, get that sedative ready. Lumi—"
The alpha lunged against his restraints.
The sled rocked. The straps groaned. One of them — the one across his chest — snapped with a sound like a gunshot, and suddenly he was half-free, front legs scrabbling for purchase, jaws snapping at anything within reach.
Cal threw himself at the sled.
My mate landed on the alpha's back, adding his weight, trying to pin him down. The alpha twisted, snarled, tried to throw Cal off. The remaining straps strained and creaked.
"NEAL!"
"I'm trying!" Neal lunged forward with the syringe, aiming for the alpha's flank.
The needle found its mark.
The alpha's snarl cut off mid-breath. His body shuddered, muscles going slack.
I moved without thinking.
Crouched beside him. My hand found the fur between his ears — matted, coarse, warm beneath my frozen fingers.
His eyes were still open. Barely. The gold fading as the sedatives dragged him under.
But he saw me.
For one second — less than a second — something flickered in that golden gaze. Not rage. Not fear. Something rawer. Something that looked almost like recognition.
Then his eyes closed.
I stayed crouched beside him, my hand still resting between his ears, until James gently pulled me away.
"We need to keep moving," he said. His voice was rough. "Before he wakes up again."
We reached the boundary line at dawn.
The campus rose ahead of us — distant buildings, the gleam of windows catching the first light. Safety. Medical facilities. Help.
We'd made it.
The four smaller wolves had stayed close to Cal throughout the journey. Neal had checked on them periodically.
