The bond woke me at 6 AM.
Not my phone. Stone’s bond flared—a sharp, pulsing that cut through my exhausted sleep like a bade. I was out of bed before I was fully awake, heart pounding, hands shaking as I pulled on shoes.
Ivy sat up, blinking. "What—"
"Stay here."
I didn't wait for her response. I was already running.
Stone. Something was wrong with Stone. His end of our connection was a screaming mess of terror and rage, so tangled I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
The healing center was chaos. Security officers sprinted toward the east wing, radios crackling. I pushed past all of them.
I heard him before I saw him.
The sound that came from Stone's room wasn't human. It was a roar—guttural, agonized, full of a fury that made my blood turn to ice. Underneath it, the crash of furniture. The shriek of metal bending. The wet thud of something hitting the walls.
I ran faster.
The hallway outside his room was crowded. Staff pressed against the walls, faces pale, eyes wide. Cole was there, tranquilizer rifle raised, shouting orders I couldn't process. Neal had his medical kit open, hands moving fast, preparing something.
And through the door—
Stone.
But not Stone. Not fully.
He was caught between forms. Half-man, half-wolf, his body twisted into something that shouldn't exist. His spine was curved wrong, bones jutting at angles that made my stomach lurch. Fur sprouted in patches across his skin, mottled and uneven. His hands were claws—massive, curved, dripping with blood.
His eyes were pure gold. Empty. No recognition. No humanity.
Just animal.
"What happened?" I grabbed the nearest staff member. A young woman, shaking so hard she could barely stand. "What triggered this?"
"I—I brought his food." Her voice was barely a whisper. "He was sleeping. I tripped and—the tray hit him. He just—he just—"
She couldn't finish.
She didn't need to.
Stone thrashed against the far wall, tearing chunks of plaster with his claws. The bed was destroyed—mattress shredded, frame bent in half. Blood smeared the floor. Some of it was his. Some of it wasn't.
"Where's the blood from?" My voice came out sharp. Demanding.
"Martinez." Cole's jaw was tight. "He tried to restrain him. Stone threw him through the window."
Oh God.
"Is he—"
"Alive. Barely" Cole's finger hovered over the trigger. "Lumi, get back. I need a clear shot."
"You can't tranq him like this." Neal's voice cut through the chaos. "He's caught between forms. His metabolism is unstable. The sedative could kill him."
"And if I don't shoot him, he kills someone."
Stone roared again. The sound shook the walls. He spun toward the door, toward the cluster of staff, and I saw his muscles coil.
