Chapter Thirty-Seven
Danae
The world around me is a chaotic blur of pain and cold. My eyes feel like they weigh a ton, but I force them open, blinking against the pounding rain and darkness. Everything comes into focus slowly, and what I see makes my breath hitch.
Wreckage.
Twisted metal strewn across the floor, flickers of electricity sparking from broken wires.
The plane crashed.
A rush of panic claws at my chest, and I try to sit up, but an agonizing jolt of pain shoots through me. My neck feels wrong…twisted at an unnatural angle. I freeze, trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Fix it. I need to fix it now.
With trembling hands, I reach up and grab my head, the touch alone making me whimper. I brace myself, clenching my jaw, and with one brutal shove, I force the bone back into place. A scream tears from my throat, raw and powerful, echoing into the storm.
The pain is blinding, but I push through it, adrenaline numbing the worst of it. My vision swims, and for a second, I think I’ll pass out. But then I feel it. The faint, familiar tingling of my body knitting itself back together. My werewolf abilities. They’re working, but the process is excruciating.
I look down and see my shoulder hanging limp, clearly dislocated. My leg is bent at an unnatural angle, bone jutting out through my skin. Blood coats my arms and torso, streaked with dirt and rain. The open wounds sting, but I know they’re already closing, the flesh mending itself faster than any human body could manage.
You can do this, Danae. Come on, push through it .
I grit my teeth and grab my shoulder, yanking it back into place. The sound of the joint popping makes bile rise in my throat, but there’s no time to dwell on it. I take a deep breath, gripping my leg and forcing the bone back into alignment. Every nerve in my body screams, my vision going white from the sheer agony.
Another scream rips from my chest, but when the pain subsides, I feel the bone start to fuse, the muscle and tissue knitting back together. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough. Enough to move. Enough to stand.
The rain lashes against my face as I stagger out of the wreckage, the chill biting into my skin. The storm is merciless, the wind howling through the trees, but it’s not enough to drown out the sound that freezes me in my tracks.
A scream.
It’s raw, tortured, inhuman. My head snaps toward the sound, and I see him. The pilot. The cockpit section of the plane is lodged high in a tree, and he’s hanging from it, impaled on a massive branch.
“Oh my goodness,” I whisper, stumbling toward him.
He’s thrashing weakly, his body jerking against the wood that’s pierced straight through his abdomen. Blood pours from the wound, but his werewolf healing keeps trying to mend it, the flesh sealing itself only to be torn apart again by the branch. His screams are wild, primal, a sound that cuts through me like a knife.
“I’m coming!” I yell, my voice barely audible over the storm.
He doesn’t respond, his eyes wide with pain.
When I reach the base of the tree, I crane my neck to look up at him. The sight makes my stomach churn, but I force myself to stay calm. “I’m going to get you down,” I say, trying to sound steady. “Just hold on.”
He lets out another scream, his body convulsing against the branch.
I scan the wreckage, desperate for something…anything, that I can use. My eyes land on a piece of jagged metal, half buried in the mud. I dig it out, wincing as it slices into my palms. The sting is sharp, but my wounds heal almost instantly, the blood washing away in the rain.
Gripping the makeshift blade, I climb the tree, the wet bark slick under my hands. Every muscle in my body protests, but I push through it, driven by sheer determination.
When I reach him, I position the metal against the branch. “This is going to hurt,” I warn him, though I doubt he can hear me over his screams.
I start sawing at the wood, my arms burning with the effort. The metal bites into the branch, but it’s slow, too slow.
“Come on,” I mutter through gritted teeth, my desperation mounting. “Come on!”
The pilot’s head lolls to the side, his screams fading into weak, pained groans. “Please, it hurts too much. Please just put me out of my misery.” He manages, barely audible, but his words send a streak of terror through me.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, panic clawing at me. “Stay with me! Just a little longer!”
I throw all my weight into the blade, the jagged edge finally cutting through the last fibers of the branch. With a sickening crack, the wood gives way, pulling out of him, and the pilot falls to the ground. I fall too, hitting the ground painfully, but it’s bearable amidst everything else.
His scream tears through the air, his body trembling violently. Blood pours from the wound, but I press my hands against it, trying to staunch the flow.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell him, my voice trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”
His eyes flutter open, and he looks at me with something that almost resembles gratitude. “Thank you,” he rasps, his voice barely audible.
And then he passes out.
“No!” I shake him, my hands slick with his blood. “Stay with me! Please!”
I press my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.
A slight relief floods through me, I’m grateful he’s still alive, but my relief is short-lived. The cold seeps into my bones, my wet clothes clinging to my skin. My body is trembling, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. And then, it hits me…
The baby.
The thought slams into me like a freight train. I press a hand to my abdomen, panic rising in my chest. I just found out I’m pregnant. And now I’ve done something stupid like this. Endangering my baby’s life.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, forcing myself to focus. The pilot’s pulse is getting weaker. He’s losing too much blood.
I shake him again, my voice breaking. “Please, you can’t die. Please stay with me!”
His head droops slightly, his face pale and eerily still, and a cold wave of panic crashes over me. The words spill out of me in a flood, thick with guilt, the kind that burrows deep and makes it hard to breathe. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” I whisper. The sobs catching in my throat, my chest heaving. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t…”
He’s only in this position because of me. Because I couldn’t wait. Because I demanded he fly us out, even when the storm outside was raging, even when the signs were there, screaming at me to stop.
My hands won’t stop shaking as I rattle him again, harder this time, as if I can force him back to consciousness, back to life. Tears stream down my face unchecked. “Please, I’m begging you,” I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of my guilt. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of this.”
But he doesn’t respond.
The exhaustion is overwhelming now, the cold and the pain dragging me down. My vision blurs, and I feel myself fading.
No. Not yet. Not like this.
In a last, desperate act, I release my pheromones into the air. The scent is faint in the storm, but it carries, spreading down the mountain.
If anyone’s looking for me…this will lead them here. Please. Please let someone be looking.
I collapse beside the pilot, my body too weak to move. The rain beats against my face, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
The darkness presses in around me like it’s trying to swallow me whole. The storm rages overhead, the thunder cracking so loudly it feels like the sky itself is breaking apart. And then I hear something—a sound that cuts through everything. A howl. Long, sharp, and unmistakable. A wolf’s howl.
I force my heavy eyes open, and through the haze clouding my vision, I see Silas. His wolf stands there, powerful and fierce, his silver-gray fur drenched from the rain but glowing like something out of a dream. He throws his head back and howls again, louder this time.
And then two more figures appear. Adriel and Joseph. Their wolves emerge from the shadows, their bodies sleek and powerful, their movements almost too graceful to be real.
Something cracks open in my chest. They came to save me. I was so sure they wouldn’t. I’d convinced myself they didn’t care, that my leaving would be better for them, better for everyone. But now, as I see them charging toward me, their paws pounding against the wet earth, I know how wrong I was.
Silas reaches me first. His icy blue eyes lock onto mine, and I swear, even in his wolf form, there’s something so raw, so achingly human in that gaze. He shifts, the change happening so fast it almost feels like a blur. One second, he’s a wolf, the next, it’s him—Silas. His face, sharp and intense, framed by rain-soaked hair. His expression is carved with worry, his jaw tight, and his chest heaving as he kneels beside me.
Adriel and Joseph shift too, their forms melting back into their human shapes. Adriel’s face is softer, his eyes scanning me with an almost panicked focus. Joseph is all sharp edges and tension, his dark brows furrowed, his hands moving with urgency. They’re both there, surrounding me, their presence so solid it feels like a barrier against the storm.
I try to focus, try to keep my head above the fog pulling me under. Someone’s hand slides into mine—strong, warm, grounding. Another hand presses against the back of my neck, firm but gentle, like it’s trying to hold me together when I feel like I’m falling apart. I can’t even tell who’s who anymore. Everything’s a blur of faces, voices, and touches.
But I feel it. I feel them. Their worry, their fear, their relief, all of it crashing over me like the rain. And beneath all of that, there’s this deep ache in my chest, a warmth spreading through me despite the cold. They came for me. They didn’t have to, but they did.
I want to say something, to tell them I’m sorry. I’m sorry for running, for thinking they didn’t love me, for putting them through this. The words are there, clawing their way to the surface, but my lips won’t cooperate. They tremble uselessly, my breath hitching as the effort to speak drains me even more.
“Danae…” Silas’ voice breaks through, low and rough, filled with an edge of panic I’ve never heard from him before. His face is so close, his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line.
I want to reach for him, for all of them, to let them know how much this means to me. But my body is shutting down, the edges of my vision darkening, their faces the last thing I see. Silas. Adriel. Joseph. Their worry, their fear, their love.
And then, I let go.