Zion stands there, gun raised, smoke curling from the barrel. His face is twisted with rage and something darker. Something that has been festering for years.
“You think you get to have it all, Darius?” His voice shakes with fury. “The pack, the power, the mate? If I lose everything, so do you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Darius
Blood pools beneath Violet’s body, spreading across the arena floor like spilled wine. The metallic scent chokes me before I can process what I’m seeing.
“Healer!” The word rips from my throat, raw and desperate. “I need a healer, now!”
The crowd that had been frozen in shock erupts into chaos. Screams pierce the air. Feet thunder against stone as people scatter in every direction. Someone wails. Another shifter shouts orders I can’t make out. The noise crashes over me like a wave, but I stay on my knees beside my mate, unable to move.
My hands hover over the wound in her shoulder, shaking. I’m afraid to touch her. Afraid I’ll make it worse. Afraid I’ll lose her if I let go.
The color drains from her face. Each breath is shallow and rapid, rattling in her chest. I can see the pulse in her throat: too fast, too frantic.
“Violet.” My voice breaks. “Stay with me.”
Three healers push through the crowd and stop next to us, their faces grim as they see Violet’s wound up close. Behind them, soldiersare running toward us. I turn my head just enough to see Ethan arriving at the arena entrance, his eyes going wide. He rushes over.
“Zion did this. Don’t let him escape.” My words come out harsh, a command that brooks no argument. I jerk my chin toward where Zion disappeared into the crowd. “Track him. Capture him. I want him alive.”
Ethan’s jaw tightens. He nods once, then gestures to the soldiers. “You heard him. Move!”
They surge past me, but I’ve already turned back to Violet. The healers are crouched around her now, their hands moving quickly, checking her pulse, examining the gunshot wound.
“Silver,” one of them says, her voice tight. She’s an older woman, with gray streaking through her dark hair. She looks up at me, and I see the fear in her eyes. “Silver bullet. Still lodged inside.”
My heart stops. Silver. Poison to our kind. Deadly if left inside too long.
“Take it out.” My voice sounds distant to my own ears.
The healer shakes her head, her expression grave. “But Alpha, we need to prepare. We need proper tools, a clean—”
“Take it out, now.” I lean forward, and she flinches at whatever she sees in my face. “We don’t have time for preparations. Do it.”
She exchanges glances with the other two healers, a middle-aged man and a woman who can’t be more than twenty-five. They’re scared. I can smell it on them.
“Alpha Darius,” the older healer says carefully, “we’ll have to cut into her flesh. Dig deep. Without anesthesia, without proper equipment, it will be…difficult.”
“Then make it quick.” I force myself to release Violet’s hand to give them space to work. “Get that poison out of her.”
They move with practiced efficiency, pulling supplies from their bags. The male healer produces a wicked-looking blade, and my wolf snarls inside me at the sight of it approaching my mate. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to shift, to tear apart anyone who causes her pain.
The first incision makes Violet’s body jerk. She’sunconscious, but some part of her registers the violation. I taste blood in my mouth and realize I’ve bitten through my lip.
“Deeper,” the older healer murmurs to her colleague. “It’s lodged near the bone.”
Blood flows from the opening. The young woman uses cloth after cloth to soak it up, but it keeps coming. It’s too much. Violet has already lost so much blood.
“Got it.” The male healer’s voice is strained. He holds up the forceps, a small silver bullet gripped between the metal teeth. I can see how the silver has darkened, corroded by contact with Violet’s hybrid blood.
But the older healer isn’t celebrating. She’s leaning close, examining the wound with a frown that makes my stomach drop.
“Tell me,” I demand. “What is it?”
“The poison.” She glances at me, and I see the truth in her eyes before she speaks. “It has already begun to spread through her system. I can see traces of it in her veins, the discoloration of the tissue around the wound.”
