Chapter 36 Felix
Felix
Kit collapsed completely, his body seizing against the concrete floor. The wolves erupted into chaos—snarls echoing off the walls as their fragile calm shattered.
“What’s happening to him?” I dropped beside Kit, hands hovering over his convulsing form.
“I—I don’t know for certain,” Isla stammered, backing against the wall as the black wolf stalked closer. “But I think… I think Ma might be trying to activate the prototype chip.”
“What? She can do that?!” Rory’s voice cut through the growing din.
“Yeah. The one from years ago. When Kit was in Greywatch.” Isla raised her hands, speaking softly to the approaching wolves in what sounded like Gaelic. Several backed off slightly, but their agitation continued building.
“How do you even know that?” I demanded, still focused on Kit’s rigid form. “Maybe he’s just lost too much blood from the surgery.”
“Well… I heard her talking about it. She mentioned wondering what effect reconnecting might have—”
Rory’s fist slammed into the concrete wall. “That bitch!”
Kit’s back arched, a strangled sound escaping his throat. For a moment, his eyes cleared, finding mine. The wolves settled fractionally, growls turning to whines.
“Felix…” he rasped.
“I’m here, Kit.” I squeezed his hand as tightly as I possibly could. “I’m right here.”
Another seizure struck him, worse than before. His back slammed against the concrete, limbs thrashing as if something was trying to tear him apart from the inside. The wolves spiralled back into aggressive confusion; several began pacing in tight circles, while others snapped at empty air.
“They’re losing it!” Rory said. “What if they shift back? In this state?”
“I don’t think they will,” Isla said quickly. “They’re in pack mentality now. The transformation destabilised their human reasoning centres.”
“Well then, how do we fix Kit?”
Isla’s silence stretched too long. “Ma said that trying to connect to the prototype chip again might kill him. The neural pathways have changed too much.”
Kit’s entire body went rigid, his breathing becoming shallow and erratic. The wolves sensed his distress, several beginning to howl—a mournful sound that made my heart thump.
I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything we’d fought for.
Without caring about the wolves or Rory’s panicked shouting or anything else, I lay down on the cold concrete beside Kit, pulling his rigid form against my chest.
“Listen to me, Kit,” I whispered against his ear. “I know you can hear me. You need to fight this thing. I need you to fight it. For me. For Rory. For Seb and Priya and Flynn and Theo.”
His breathing hitched but remained ragged. Panic squeezed at my heart, my lungs, my everything. If he died, that would be the end of me. A part of me—half of me—would shatter beyond repair.
“Kit, listen to my voice. Come back to me.” My throat thickened, words becoming difficult. “You promised me a million more proper dates, remember? Ones where I didn’t get eaten by any vampires. You promised me Seoul. You can’t break those promises!”
A low growl rumbled through his chest as he twisted on the floor.
“I love you.” The words suddenly tumbled out, fierce and desperate and hopelessly true. “I love you, and I was going to tell you that, and tell you I want to be your mate. Properly. Forever.”
Something shifted in his breathing pattern, and hope flared inside me. I pressed my hand over his ribcage, my palm settling over the constellation of scars that decorated his chest.
“You told me that I needed to be sure about the mate bond. So I need you to know that I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
” I pressed my lips against his cheek. “I need you to come back because I’m terrified and I don’t know how to get us out of here without you.
I… I don’t want to get out of here without you. "
Kit’s hand twitched against the floor.
Then went still again.
“Please,” I pleaded, pressing my forehead to his. “Kit, please don’t leave me.”
Nothing. His chest barely rose. The wolves’ howling grew more desperate, feeding off their alpha’s pain.
My throat closed. This wasn’t working. Love wasn’t enough. Words weren’t enough. I was going to lose him to some fucking chip in his brain, and there was nothing I could do—
Wait.
Something was happening. A sensation I’d never experienced before—wispy and fragile, like the first strand of a spider’s web brushing against my consciousness. It pulled towards Kit with insistence.
What the hell was that?
I pressed my palm harder against his scarred chest, feeling the stuttering rhythm of his heart beneath my fingers. The strange feeling intensified, that thread growing marginally stronger.
“Kit.” My voice came out rough. “Kit, I… can feel something! Between us. I don’t— I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.”
His heartbeat faltered. Skipped.
Terror lanced through me, but the thread pulsed again, insistent. Like it was trying to tell me something. Show me something.
“There’s this… connection.” I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing entirely on that fragile strand.
“It’s pulling me towards you. Just like you described!
” The thread trembled. “So you need to fight whatever’s in your head, because I can feel this thing trying to form and I want it.
I want you. I want everything we could be together.
” My words tumbled faster, desperate. “But you have to come back to me first. You have to come back.”
For a moment, nothing changed.
Then—
A flicker along that thread. Faint. Like someone reaching back from the other side of a vast distance. Something responding to my call.
His fingers twitched again. This time, they kept moving, curling slightly as if reaching for something.
“That’s it,” I breathed, pressing closer. “I’m right here. Can you feel me? I can feel you, Kit. Follow that feeling back.”
Kit’s breathing hitched, chest heaving as if he’d been drowning. His body remained rigid, muscles locked in violent tension, but something was changing. The thread between us strengthened incrementally—still fragile, still incomplete, but growing more substantial with each passing second.
“He’s fighting it!” Isla’s voice sounded distant. “Felix, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”
I had no idea what I was doing. Only that this thread seemed to give Kit something to grasp onto. An anchor point in whatever neural hell he was experiencing.
“Keep fighting,” I said. “I can feel you. You’re there.”
The thread pulsed harder. Insistent now. Demanding.
“That’s it. Keep coming back. Follow this thing between us.” I pressed my forehead harder against his. “You’re stronger than whatever they put in your head. We’re stronger.”
Kit’s spine arched off the concrete, every muscle straining. A low, agonised sound tore from his throat—half-human, half-wolf. The wolves responded instantly, their howls rising to a crescendo that echoed through the facility.
The thread between us sang. Not complete. Not yet. Somehow I knew that. But present. Undeniable. Pulling taut as Kit fought his way back along it.
Then, the miracle occurred.
His fingers found my face, grip trembling but deliberate. His eyes peeled open. Unfocused at first, struggling to track. Then they landed on me and sharpened.
“Dalamjwi,” he whispered, voice wrecked.
Behind us came a choked sob. Rory.
I screwed up my face, trying to hide how close I was to crying myself. “I thought we agreed not to go with squirrel.”
Kit’s mouth curved into the smallest smile, his thumb tracing shakily across my cheekbone. “Min-jun. My Min-jun. My Felix.”
The relief nearly knocked me sideways. He was back. He was mine. I interlaced our fingers, my eyes never leaving his as I said, “I love you.”
Kit’s expression softened, grey eyes bright despite the pain etched across his features. “Sweetheart, I have always loved you.”
My heart skipped several beats. I already knew Kit loved me.
It was obvious in the way he looked at me.
In the way his hand constantly sought out mine when we walked.
How he subconsciously positioned himself between me and the rest of the world.
But to hear him say it, when I thought I might never see him again?
It rewrote something fundamental inside me.
I kissed him, soft and careful and full of promises, then pulled back just enough to see his face properly.
To memorise this moment—the way his grey eyes shone bright despite the darkness around us, despite everything.
Despite the blood still seeping from his neck, the bruises blooming across his jaw, the tremor in his hands from whatever that chip had done to him.
“Can you feel it?” I asked. “The… the thing? The bond?”
“Yes,” he said, lips curving up into a smile. “Yes, Felix. I can feel it.”
I ached with how much I wanted to stay like this.
Just the two of us, suspended in this fragile bubble where nothing else mattered.
But then Kit’s hand tightened around mine, and reality came crashing back in.
He pushed himself upright slowly, wincing.
His movements were careful, controlled—the way someone moved when they were hurt worse than they wanted to admit.
The wolves immediately focused on him, their restless pacing slowing.
“I need to shift,” he said quietly.
Pure panic shot through me. “No! You just came back! You’re bleeding, you’ve been drugged, you had a seizure. What if shifting makes it worse?”
“It won’t.” His voice was steady, certain. “Shifting will heal me. My wolf… it’s far stronger than this human body right now.”
I stared at the blood on his neck, the way he was favouring his left side, the pallor beneath his skin. “But…”
“Felix.” Slate-grey eyes held mine steadily. “I can feel their confusion. They’re not going to follow me like this. I need to show them I’m still their alpha. Be their leader.”