113 Chapter 113

Damien’s POV 1

The world tilted.

Those eyes. Even swollen shut, even surrounded by bruises and cuts that made my stomach lurch, I knew

those eyes. The elegant arch of her brows. The small scar on her left temple from when she’d fallen off her bike as a child.

*Sera.*

My hands went slack around her throat. She dropped back to the ground with a soft thud that seemed to echo like thunder in the sudden silence.

“No.” The word came out strangled. Broken. “No, no, no. This isn’t-this can’t be-”

I fell to my knees beside her, my hands hovering over her battered face. Afraid to touch. Afraid that if I did, she’d disappear like some cruel hallucination my desperate mind had conjured.

But she was real. The soft whisper of her breath. The familiar curve of her lips, split and swollen but still *hers*. The way her hair curled at the ends, even matted with blood and filth.

“Sera?” I whispered, my voice cracking like I was fourteen again. “Baby, is that you?”

Her only response was another barely audible murmur. “Adrian… where’s Adrian…”

The sound of her voice-hoarse, broken, but definitely *hers*-hit me like a physical blow. My chest seized. My lungs forgot how to work.

Lucas appeared at my shoulder, his face pale with shock. “Alpha, that’s not… that can’t be…”

“It’s her.” The words came out flat. Final.

I reached out with trembling hands to touch her face. Her skin was ice cold, waxy with fever. Dark circles shadowed her closed eyes. Her lips were cracked and bleeding.

How had I not known? How had I looked at her-at *Sera*-and seen nothing but a rogue?

Because she didn’t smell like herself. The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. Where her scent should

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have been-that unique blend of jasmine and rain that was pure Sera-there was nothing. Just the harsh

chemical burn of wolfsbane and the lingering stench of death.

“What did they do to you?” I breathed, my fingers tracing the air above a particularly nasty cut on her cheek.

“Oh god, baby, what did they do?”

More importantly-why couldn’t I sense Ayla? Every wolf had a distinct presence, a spiritual fingerprint that

as clearly as any physical scent. But when I reached out with my

for Sera’s wolf…

Nothing.

silence where Ayla

quietly, following my train of thought. “They poisoned her.

couldn’t scent her

that made my bones ache with the need

this to my

voice dropping to a register that made every wolf within hearing

last piece of shit who laid a

“Yes, Alpha.”

medical attention. Needed safety. Needed me to get

care of her instead of standing here drowning in

manage. She was so light. Too light. Nothing but skin and bones wrapped in torn rags that

lolled back over my arm, exposing the purple finger-shaped

mumbled again, her brow furrowing with

against her matted

asking for his mama every day. Crying himself to sleep because she wasn’t there to read him bedtime stories. How was I

and tell him

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thinking before it could take root. She was alive. Breathing. Whatever they’d done to

We had to.

car,” I barked

him with a cattle

me as I carried Sera toward the

“The hospital?” he asked.

my jaw tight. “She needs someone

to counteract wolfsbane

engine still running. I climbed

as carefully as I could. Her breathing was shallow, irregular. Her skin felt

hands.

behind the wheel. “Fast as you can without

spoke into the phone. “We’ve got an emergency.

wolf

Lucas nodded grimly. “Understood.

a moment, hope flared

Maybe-

her voice barely audible over

flashbacks. Reliving

safe now. No one’s going to hurt either of you.

promise.”

kind of mate was I?

white walls gleaming in the afternoon sun. Dr.

the emergency entrance with a gurney and two nurses, her silver

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