Getting out of the bustling Pack House unnoticed was a challenge.
Luckily, I was smart enough to use an exit no one else would consider—the room assigned to the Alpha of the Millennium.
Raphael’s suite was on the top floor. I knew he’d smell my scent the moment he returned from Shanghai.
I’d have to face the consequences, but considering I regularly stole his daughter’s blood to trade with a vampire for information, I wasn’t too worried about Raphael anymore.
When I reached his and Eve’s rooms, I didn’t waste time. I went to the living room window, opened it, and looked out.
A tree was close enough, so I gave myself a quick pep talk, then perched on the window ledge.
I took a deep breath, trusting my werewolf reflexes, and jumped toward the tree.
My hands gripped the branch. My backpack, with the first-aid kit inside, stayed secure on my back. I let out a sigh of relief.
I hoisted myself up onto the branch, then slid down the trunk to the grass below. I sprinted to the parking lot where I’d hidden my bike.
I jumped on, started the engine, and zoomed through the parking lot, the city, and finally the forest.
My heart pounded from the adrenaline of defying my alpha’s direct command.
But my healer instincts, which were stronger than anything else, agreed with my decision.
I was panting from excitement and fear—mostly fear for those still out there, exposed and fighting.
I wondered why Gabe and Zavier weren’t joining the fight, but I wasn’t a military strategist, so I couldn’t figure it out.
I believed that leaders should lead their troops, not sit back and watch the outcome.
Twenty minutes later, I heard the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and growls in the air.
Smoke billowed from the battlefield, and fire blazed in the distance. It looked like hell had come to visit, and I didn’t like it one bit.
I stopped my bike, hopped off, and walked toward the chaos. I heard shouting before the gunfire started.
My heart rate sped up and I swallowed hard. I’d never seen death up close, but I had a feeling that was about to change.
I stepped on something that wasn’t the ground, but I didn’t understand what I was seeing at first.
Then I realized it was Miles, bleeding from several wounds.
His eyes were staring up at the sky.
My throat tightened. “Miles,” I whispered, dropping to the ground next to him and fumbling with my first-aid kit.
He didn’t even look at me, as if he couldn’t hear me. “Chloe’s waiting for me,” he said softly, tears filling his eyes, “she’s waiting for me up there. I want to see her.”
“You’re not going to Chloe yet,” I said firmly as I started healing his torso. “You still have a chance at life, and I’m not going to let you throw it away.”
He didn’t respond, but I could see it in his eyes.
Ever since his mate, Chloe, had died before they could mate—which was the only reason he was still alive—Miles had been drowning in grief.
He was Gabriel’s adviser, and Gabe was keeping a close eye on him.
But looking into his electric-blue eyes now, I knew that no matter how he chose to live his life, he would never be truly happy.
He wanted to die.
But I didn’t want to let him.
I pushed healing energy through my hands, growling as I made sure he was completely healed.
It took about ten minutes to close all the wounds, leaving him with only bruised knees and elbows.
He looked at me when I finished, anger in his eyes. “I hate you.”
“I love you, too,” I said dryly as I stood up. “Stay out of the fight, Miles, and call for any backup you can think of. Use the East Coast Pack, if you have to.”
“You’re not my alpha. You don’t get to give orders, especially not on the battlefield,” he snapped.
It wasn’t fair of me to undermine Gabe, when I was pretty sure he was working on getting backup himself, or even preparing to join the fight.
But Miles looked so lost and in pain. I knew he needed to be reminded that he wasn’t alone.
Gabriel needed him. Even Zavier needed him. I needed him. The pack needed him.
We couldn’t let him give up on life, no matter how hard it was to be separated from his mate.
Leaving Miles behind, I scanned the scene for more injured soldiers. I saw the enemy moving in a military formation, all dressed in dark cloaks and masks.
They were armed with heavy guns—I recognized an M16, an Uzi, and the most terrifying, a Bazooka.
There were some Hunters scattered around, attacking our sentries one-on-one.
We weren’t exactly outnumbered, but we definitely didn’t have the same firepower.
Werewolves usually relied on their superhuman strength, rarely using guns.
This time, however, superhuman strength wouldn’t be enough to win.
Taking a deep breath, I moved through the shadows, hiding from the enemy as I searched for more fallen soldiers.
Then I saw something that made my heart skip a beat.
A man, a Hunter, broke formation and raised his gun to aim at someone in front of him. My eyes followed his line of sight, and my stomach dropped.
Shade. The Hunter was aiming at Shade, who was on the ground.
I didn’t know him very well, although I doubted anyone did.
Daphne had told me that, despite being part of the crew, he wasn’t close to anyone. Not even Rafe, who’d recruited him.
I’d only exchanged a few words with Shade in the past, so we weren’t close.
Still, seeing him lying there, facing his own death, tugged at my heart.
A primal instinct kicked in, stronger than anything else I’d ever felt.
Shade was on the ground, wounded and gasping for breath. The Hunter was about to pull the trigger.
Without thinking, I lunged at him, shifting into my wolf form in mid-air.
My body morphed, limbs stretching, fur sprouting, my back arching to accommodate my new shape. Then I was on top of the Hunter, claws slashing.
The other Hunters were too busy fighting the other soldiers to notice me. They were shooting, cursing, throwing punches.
So, no one saw me as I tore into the Hunter beneath me.
I sank my wolf teeth into his throat, ripping a vein. Then I leaped off him, shifting back into my human form, not caring about my nakedness, and rushed to Shade.
I grabbed my backpack from where it had fallen when I shifted. I rummaged inside, searching for bandages.
Only two were left. I’d used most of them on Miles.
“Fuck,” I muttered, crawling over to Shade. His eyes were closed, his clothes torn.
His shirt was in tatters, his jeans ripped. I tried not to notice his exposed muscles, but it was hard.
Any woman would tell you Shade was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
And they wouldn’t be wrong.
With his long, light brown hair and mesmerizing green eyes, he was one of the most attractive men on the planet.
He had a strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, and a tall, lean figure. His muscles were tight and strong.
His skin was a smooth golden color, hinting at some Mediterranean heritage.
His chiseled chest was on display. Even here, in the middle of a battlefield, he was breathtaking.
From what I knew of Shade, he never went shirtless.
My eyes were drawn to the gunshot wound in his abdomen. I cursed and tossed the bandages aside.
“Shade,” I said softly, straddling him, my hands on either side of the wound. “I’m going to take the bullet out, and you’re going to let me.”
He stirred at my voice. His eyes remained closed. “Luxford?” he rasped.
I smiled, relieved. He was still conscious enough to hear me and respond.
“The other Luxford,” I told him. Daphne and I sounded alike.
“Now, when I count to three, stop breathing. I need to check if the bullet punctured a lung. Okay?”
He gave a brief nod, and I counted to three. I felt him tense as I probed the edges of his wound.
Blood oozed from the bullet hole. He gritted his teeth. It must’ve been excruciating.
But it wasn’t working. The bullet was too deep.
“Exhale,” I ordered, and he did. “The bullet is too deep. I don’t think it hit a lung, but I don’t want to risk it.”
I looked at him. “I’m going to heal your internal injuries now, or at least close them so you can function. Then I’ll take you back to the Pack House and operate to get the bullet out. Understand?”
Shade didn’t answer, just gave a slight nod. I was worried, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.
This was going to require more healing energy than before. I needed a life-saving amount of energy.
But I’d been healing for hours already, and I was worried my unusual amount of magical power would eventually run out.
But I didn’t have time to worry about that.
I placed my hands on the bullet wound, closed my eyes, and drew magic from my core, the source of my healing power.
The core, theoretically, was in the pit of my stomach. Whenever I consciously drew power from it to heal serious wounds, my stomach clenched uncomfortably.
But it didn’t matter. Shade was in serious trouble.
Drawing from that core, I felt the magic surge through my blood, electric as it slid down my arms and into my palms.
Then I released it, and the magic did its work, fixing the internal bleeding, seeking out every injury, no matter how minor.
It healed the bruises and some of the smaller broken bones in Shade’s body.
It was a massive release of magic that would leave me drained, but if I could heal Shade, the Gamma of the Millennium, he would be able to end the fight.
He was strong enough to hold them back until help arrived, if not defeat them all.
And if Zack was out here somewhere, still standing, they both could crush them like bulldozers. At least, that was my hope.
The healing magic kept flowing. Shade had sustained so much damage, and my healing told me it wasn’t just from this fight.
When he was completely healed, my magic found its way to his back, where he was no longer lying.
There were scars there, scars I could feel with my magic but had never seen before.
My magic sought to heal those scars…
“Don’t heal them, Luxford.”
His voice was low and growly, a warning.
Then I felt his hands on my back, and I realized I was still straddling him.
He struggled to sit up, completely healed except for the bullet still inside him.
“Let the magic go, Luxford,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, into dangerous territory.
I shivered, refusing to open my eyes, refusing to stop the magic from flowing.
“You’re exhausted. Healing them would knock you out. Cut the connection to your magic core, and open your eyes,” Shade said.
His voice was authoritative, and that was what I needed to hear.
Sighing, I drew my magic back, pushing it back into the core, then felt myself slump against his bare chest.
I was still naked, and I would’ve been embarrassed by our compromising position if I hadn’t been completely spent.
He froze, then said harshly, “Open your eyes, Luxford. Don’t pass out. I need you standing so I can get you back to the Pack House.”
I’d never heard him talk so much before. Shade was a man of few words.
“You’re talking,” I mumbled, my words barely audible.
I was so tired, I felt delirious. “You’re talking too much…”
“Luxford—” he started.
I interrupted him. “Don’t call me Luxford like I’m some stranger,” I slurred out.
Summoning all my remaining energy, I pushed against his chest to sit up straight.
I opened my eyes. “I have a name, you know. It’s Daisy—”
I stopped abruptly.
My eyes widened as they met Shade’s.
He looked taken aback. The moment my gaze fell on his mesmerizing irises, something inside me shifted.
Something vital.
In the midst of the chaos around us, Shade and I held each other’s gaze.
I was still stark naked, sitting astride him. He was utterly still.
The realization hit us both almost simultaneously.
Oh no.
