Gage
Iwatch as the wolf I’m convinced is my mate takes her last breath and goes still.
My heart is beating so hard, I’m shocked it hasn’t pushed its way out of my chest and into hers, like it’s longing to do. If I could give up my life for hers, I would.
We continue to stare in shock at her lifeless body, as if we’re all silently hoping this is some sort of terrible nightmare. After a minute, Bain shifts back to his wolf form and lays his head across her neck.
I don’t blame him for shifting. We feel our emotions less in our wolf form; this is probably the only way he can cope right now.
He’s our enforcer, our protector, even more so than Maddox, even though Maddox is our leader.
Bain is probably feeling worse than I am.
Not being able to protect her will hurt the very core of who he is, beyond just the pain of losing a potential mate.
I rub at my chest as I watch her. If it hurts this much now, how much worse could it be when losing a bonded mate? I can’t imagine. It’s like a giant hole is opening up inside me. No wonder so many wolves go crazy after losing their mate.
“Why would she do that?” Chase asks, his pain-filled voice cutting through the silence that fills the clearing. “Why would she run away from us then sacrifice her life for mine? It doesn’t make any sense!” He sounds so heartbroken that it increases my own pain.
“She didn’t run away because she didn’t want to be with us,” I tell him carefully, as I rest my hand on his shoulder, offering comfort.
“Then why?” He finally turns his head from her to look at me. His brown eyes, normally filled with life and mischief, are red-rimmed and filled with heartache. He’s looking for some way of explaining what happened, hoping it will help his pain. It won’t.
“She ran because she was scared,” I tell him.
“Of us?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think she was scared of… Well, probably everything. Who we are, where she escaped from. And, based on what just happened, maybe she was scared of hurting us somehow. Maybe she thought being with her would be harmful for us.”
“It's not fair,” Hunter adds solemnly, resting his cheek on Chase’s other shoulder. “We never even got to lay eyes on her in human form. We’ll never know for sure if she was our mate. We’ll never even know her name.” He’s mad, and he has every right to be. This is not how this was supposed to go.
Everyone dreams of the day they meet their mate, that moment when their eyes connect and they know they’ve found their other half, the one person they’re supposed to spend the rest of their lives with. The person they know will do anything for them.
But nothing about this little wolf has been straightforward. Meeting her in wolf form, only to lose her weeks later. Hunter is right, it isn’t fair.
“What do we do now?” Chase asks, his eyes returning to our mate.
“We take her back with us. We give her a proper… burial,” Maddox answers, barely able to get the word out. Bain growls softly. None of us like it. We can’t even put her real name on her headstone.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I rub at my chest, the gaping wound feeling like it’s slowly expanding to encompass my entire body with pain.
None of this makes sense. How could we meet her only to lose her?
It isn’t right. Why would the fates pair all of us with her?
Because this pain we’re all feeling feels far worse than losing a pack mate.
Chase squeezes her a little tighter, then gently lays her down, only to storm over and punch a tree. He swears and shakes his hand out as he paces with anger.
Bain moves closer to her side so there’s no space between them, and the rest of us sit back and stare at her, unable to believe this is happening.
My mind keeps running through scenarios of how I could have prevented it.
Over and over. A hundred different outcomes, a thousand variations.
If I had been two paces closer. If I had calculated the bear’s trajectory instead of its size.
If I had accounted for the way it seemed to be lost in bloodlust. I should have seen the variables.
I should have predicted the statistical inevitability that something like this could happen.
My mind is supposed to be a weapon, sharper than instinct, but what good is a brain that analyzes probabilities if it can’t save the one person who mattered most?
She shouldn’t have died. Wolves are faster than bears by at least thirty percent over short distances. If I had just been the one to intercept, or if I had run faster, or gotten to her sooner.
But she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t calculate.
She didn’t weigh odds or run numbers. She just threw herself between Chase and certain death like it was inevitable, like it was the only possible move on the board.
Like his life mattered more than hers. A man she barely knew.
That kind of sacrifice defies logic. It breaks every law I’ve ever believed governed survival.
I try to tell myself she was only with us for two weeks.
That we never knew her human face, never even knew her name.
But the bond doesn’t care about facts, or data points, or duration of exposure.
My chest feels like it’s splitting open from the inside, and the only logical conclusion I can draw is that she was mine. My mate. And now she’s gone.
So I keep cycling, spinning through scenarios I’ll never be able to test, replaying each frame with minor alterations, as if I can conjure a version where she lives.
But every simulation ends the same way, with her lifeless body at our feet, and me staring at the probability I can’t solve, the one where she survives and we get to keep her.
And the cruelest part? No matter how many times I run it, no matter how many paths I construct, the outcome never changes. I still lose her.
I try to shove those thoughts aside. They won’t help anything now.
Chase sits down beside his twin, and they throw an arm around each other, offering what little comfort they can as they watch her unmoving body.
I tilt my head as I look at her. Is it unmoving? I sense something at the same time as Bain, who sits up and peers down at her. I move closer and lean forward on my knees, inspecting her side.
What I see makes my eyes widen, and a loud gasp escapes as I try to understand.
“What?” Chase asks, jumping up and moving to my side.
“Her wounds are… healing.” Everyone leans in close to watch as her wounds, ever so slowly, start to close up. The parts of her insides that were exposed, start to pull back inside her. It’s so slow you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring directly at it.
“Holy shit,” Chase whispers, as if speaking loudly might stop what’s happening.
What is happening? Shifter bodies don’t heal after death. And I checked her pulse ten minutes ago. She was definitely dead.
Bain shifts back, his hands hovering over her, as if he’s unsure if he should touch her or not.
“Check her pulse,” I tell him, as he’s closest to her neck. He presses his fingers there, keeps moving them around, then shakes his head as his shoulders drop. “No, nothing. No pulse. She’s still gone.”
Maddox looks up at me as he asks, “Have you ever heard of a wolf healing after death?”
“Never,” I say, as we share a look. We both knew that already. This isn’t normal, not even close. The moment a shifter dies, their magic is gone. There’s nothing left to do the healing.
“Let me check,” Hunter moves in to feel for a pulse. Then we all take turns checking for one. I check to see if her chest rises at all, but it doesn't move.
After that, nobody speaks as we sit there in confusion, watching her dead body heal. About twenty minutes later, the last of the wounds seals up, then… nothing. She’s still covered in blood, but the wounds are gone.
“I’m not sure what I expected to happen,” Hunter says, staring at her unmarked side.
“So strange…” Maddox says, reaching out and running his hand over her dirty but healed skin.
Suddenly, her entire body starts to glow. My eyes widen in shock and confusion as I move backward, my brothers doing the same. The glow gets so bright that I have to shield my eyes from it. I feel a pulse of magic shoot out from her, then it disappears completely, along with the light.
Opening my eyes, I gasp. She’s still there, in wolf form, but her body is clean. No more blood or dirt. She looks flawless, if it weren't for the fact that she’s dead.
Or is she? My eyes flick to her chest, and I realize it’s moving.
“I think she’s breathing!” I yell as I reach to check her pulse, but suddenly, her face turns upward, making me jerk back in surprise. She releases a pain-filled howl. It’s so quiet, you probably wouldn’t even hear it outside this clearing.
I lean back in shock, so many emotions running through me that I don’t even know what to feel right now.
She stops and flops her head back down, panting heavily, like she’s just run for hours.
“What the ever-loving-fuck is going on?” Chase asks, his voice a mixture of worry and hope.
“Angel?” Bain asks, barely able to keep his voice even through the tears gathering in his eyes.
She tilts her head to where he kneels behind her and lets him gently hold her face. “How?” he asks, searching her eyes. She lets out a soft whine.
He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s fighting back tears, then he opens them and gathers her into his arms against his chest as tightly as he can without hurting her. He buries his face in her neck, rocking her back and forth as he mumbles something to her about never doing that again.
I look up, meeting Maddox’s eyes as he shakes his head and whispers, “That’s… That’s not possible.”
“No, it’s not,” I agree as we both turn to gaze at the little wolf who’s just risen from the dead.