“No.” His eyes go wide. “This isn’t... I was supposed to...”
But he doesn’t finish. His body goes slack, and the hatred fades to nothing.
I stand over him, breathing hard. Around us, the battle is winding down. Cheslem wolves are surrendering or fleeing into the forest. Silvercreek’s fighters are letting them go.
Rafe is dead.
I thought I’d feel something more. Triumph, maybe. Instead, there’s just exhaustion and the hollow ache of violence finally coming to an end.
“Bryan!”
I turn toward the voice. Skylar is running across the field.
I open my arms. She crashes into me with enough force to make me stagger. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I pull her close and bury my face in her hair. Honeysuckle fills my lungs.
“It’s over,” I mumble against the nape of her neck. “It’s finally over.”
She pulls back, and her eyes search my body for damage. Her hands reach for the wound on my chest. “You’re hurt. Let me—”
I capture her mouth with mine. The kiss is desperate and relieved and full of everything I can’t put into words. She kisses me back with equal fervor, curling her fingers into my hair, her body melting against mine.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I should have said it years ago. I should have never left.”
She rests her forehead against mine and closes her eyes. “I know. I love you too.”
Chapter 24 - Skylar
Blood has soaked through my third pair of gloves, and I’ve lost count of how many wounds I’ve stitched since dawn.
The medical center is overflowing with injured wolves. Every bed is full. Every corner holds someone bleeding or groaning or waiting for treatment. Fern works beside me without complaint despite her pregnant belly making it harder to move between patients. Sera handles triage near the entrance, directing the wounded to wherever we have space.
Bryan hasn’t left my side since the battle ended.
He’s standing near the supply cabinet now, handing me fresh gauze before I even ask for it. His chest is wrapped in bandages from the gash Rafe gave him, but he refused to let me treat him until everyone else was stable. Stubborn man. I’ll deal with him properly once this rush is over.
“How’s the leg?” I ask my current patient, a young patrol wolf named Jeremy, who took a nasty bite to his thigh during the fighting.
“Hurts like hell.” He manages a weak grin. “But I’ll live, right?”
“You’ll live.” I tie off the last stitch and reach for the bandages Bryan is already holding out to me. “Stay off it for at least three days. No shifting until the muscle has a chance to heal.”
“Three days? But what if—”
“Three days, Jeremy. Doctor’s orders.”
He grumbles but doesn’t argue further. Bryan helps him off the table and onto a cot in the corner where he can rest. I strip off my bloody gloves and toss them in the biohazard bin. Myhands are shaking from exhaustion, but there are still patients waiting.
“You need a break.” Bryan is back at my side.
“I’ll take one when everyone’s been treated.” I pull on fresh gloves and turn toward the next patient. “Just a few more hours.”
The day bleeds into evening, and evening bleeds into night. I lose track of time completely. There’s only the work. Clean, assess, treat, repeat. The rhythm becomes automatic, and my body moves through the motions even when my mind wants to shut down.
Somewhere around midnight, Nic’s voice cuts through the mayhem of the medical center.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?”
The room goes quiet. Wolves stop mid-conversation. Even the patients who are awake turn their heads toward the Alpha standing in the doorway. Luna is beside him, looking exhausted but whole. Thomas and James flank them both.
