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I suck in a breath as the realization of what he’s saying hits me.

“What do you mean?” I ask slowly. “Like, cut off his hand?”

He nods, his lips pursed together.

Jade whips her head up. “No. No… there has to be another way. We can’t… We can’t do that to him.”

Micah pulls her into his arms. “We have to, Jade, or he will die.”

The dark edge he had when speaking to me in the woods has vanished, and she crumbles, sobbing into his chest. He holds her for a moment, letting her tears dampen his shirt, but his eyes are on me the entire time. Watching him hug her is surreal, and it tugs at my heart.

This is the side of Micah I am falling for—too bad it’s not real. He gently places her in my arms and turns to Thomas, grabbing the medical kit, rooting through it, and pulling out everything he needs.

“Come on,” I whisper to Jade. “Don’t watch.” I take her to our shelter and lie her down. She immediately curls up on the wolf blanket and sobs.

I run back to Micah, who’s rooting through the medical kit. He stops and runs his hand through his hair when he notices me. He’s strong and confident, but a tightness surrounds his eyes as he holds the massive hunting knife in his hand.

“Are you sure about this?”

He tilts his head and I catch a glimmer in his eye. “No, I’m not sure of anything anymore. But if I don’t do something, he probably won’t last the night. His organs will shut down on him.”

I swallow. “There’s no other way?”

He looks at me with deep sorrow in his eyes.

“What do you need me to do?”

He flexes his jaw and flicks the little bit of hair covering his eyes. He reaches into the medical kit and cleans the blade with an antiseptic wipe. “I need you to hold him down.”

Jesus.

Worry coils my insides, and I close my eyes. My body shakes—the same trembling from before, only a thousand times worse, and for a completely different reason. My body and mind haven’t yet recovered from my fight with Micah.

Little speckles of light shine around me. I take small breaths to contain my dizziness and when I open them, Micah is crouched beside me. I realize I’m swaying as the earthy shelter swirls in front of me, and I nearly topple over into the fire.

He places his hand on my shoulder, steadying me, running his hand down my braid. His fingers tickle my cheek. “I need you to be strong, London. Okay?”

The world goes utterly woozy as my knees tremble, and I topple over. He places his arms around me, pressing my head into his chest. His heartbeat is the only thing that brings me back. I fight a tear as it runs down my cheek as I try to be strong for both of them, but my energy reserves are running dangerously low.

Micah presses his lips against my forehead. “Do this for Thomas, London. Just a couple of minutes and it will be over. Do you trust me?”

The stress of those words.

Trust Micah… after what he did.

Calling me Olivia to hurt me. He physically hurt me, and I think he hurt Olivia, too, then lied about it, and slept with his brother’s girlfriend for reasons I can’t even fathom.

“Yes,” I whisper.

I scoot over to Thomas, softly placing his head on my lap as Micah readies himself to amputate his hand. He pulls out some gauze and places it nearby. He crouches behind me, pulling Thomas’s other hand, and urges me to the other side of Thomas’s large frame.

He pushes down on Thomas’s non-wounded arm. “Hold him down like this. Use all your strength and keep his arm and body contained.”

His words pierce through me, and my stomach tightens. Thomas is five times my size, and it’s comical to think I will have any real impact on him. My heart rate evens, and Micah doesn’t let go of me until my body is completely calm and relaxed. I press my body down on Thomas and dare to look at Micah.

In this impossible situation, and despite my earlier hatred, I want to make him proud. I can do this for Thomas—for Micah.

I hold on to Thomas as hard as I can, pressing my whole body into him. The hint of silver flashes from the blade in Micah’s hands. Knowing Micah’s style while he hunts, I know he will be hard and fast.