Chapter 6 #2
"Since I was eleven." I didn't elaborate. He didn't need to know about the visions, the dreams, the years of inexplicable obsession. He just needed to trust that I knew what I was doing.
"Supplies," I continued. "Food, water, medical equipment, sedatives for transport. Neal — what can you pull from the Center without raising flags?"
He considered. "Basic medical supplies are easy. Sedatives are tracked, but I can fudge the paperwork — claim I'm running tests on Cal."
"Gear," I said, turning to James. "Tents, cold-weather equipment, climbing supplies."
"Equipment shed by the athletic complex." James's mouth curved. "The lock is shit. I broke in last time."
"Good." I looked back at the map. "Here, based on where we found Cal."
Neal frowned. "Are you sure?"
"They're there." I didn't know how I knew. But I did. The same way I'd known Cal was waiting to be found. "I'll find them."
Neal was quiet for a moment. Then: "How long do we have? Before someone notices we're gone?"
I considered it. “Ivy can cover for me—tell people I’m at the Healing Center. That might buy us a day or two.”
"After that, Twilson comes looking." Neal's voice was grim. "And Rae figures out what we've done."
"Then we'd better move fast."
The bond with Cal hit me halfway through packing.
It came without warning — a spike of fear so sharp it made me gasp. Not my fear. His.
"Lumi?" James was at my side instantly. "What is it?"
"Cal." I pressed a hand to my chest, where the bond pulsed like a second heartbeat. "Something's wrong."
I didn't wait for explanation. Just ran.
The Healing Center corridors blurred past me. I burst through Cal's door to find him in the corner — wolf form, shaking, whimpering, eyes wild with terror.
"Cal." I dropped to my knees. "Cal, I'm here."
He looked through me. Like he didn't know who I was.
The bond flickered. Dimmed.
Gone. They're gone. I left them and they're gone—
He'd felt it. The vision. The memory of his pack running, the alpha staying behind. And it was destroying him.
"They're not gone," I said fiercely, grabbing his face. "They survived. They ran. They're still out there, and we're going to find them. But I need you to hold on."
His eyes focused. Just barely.
"We're bringing you with us," I continued. "You and me and James and Neal. We're going back to that mountain together. Do you understand?"
A whimper escaped his throat. He pressed his head into my hands.
Don't leave me.
"Never," I promised. "I'm never leaving you again."
James and Neal appeared in the doorway. I looked up at them, Cal still trembling in my arms.
"He comes with us," I said. "We can't leave him behind. His mind won't survive it."
Neal opened his mouth — probably to argue about the impossibility of bringing a feral on a rescue mission. Then he looked at Cal. Really looked.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “He comes. I’ll make something up—tests, an overnight therapeutic wilderness excursion.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “That works. Thank you.”
I found Ivy in our room an hour later.
She was sitting on her bed, arms crossed, expression caught between worry and fury. She'd clearly been waiting.
"So," she said. "You're doing something stupid."
"Yes."
"Something dangerous."
"Probably."
"Something you can't tell me about."
I hesitated. "Yes."
Ivy was quiet for a long moment. Then she stood, crossed to my closet, and pulled out my warmest jacket.
"I figured," she said. "I’ll help you pack, you’ll need your cold-weather gear. Extra socks, thermal layers, that ugly hat."
"Ivy—"
"I don't need to know where you're going." She shoved the jacket into my arms. "I just need to know what to tell people when they ask."
"I'm at the Healing Center. Spending extra time with my internship patient. You haven't seen me since this morning, but that's normal — I basically live there anyway."
"And if Twilson asks?"
"You don't know anything. I don't tell you details. You're just my roommate."
Ivy nodded slowly. Then she pulled me into a hug — tight, fierce, the kind that said everything words couldn't.
"Come back," she whispered. "Whatever you're doing, whoever you're saving — come back."
"I will."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
She pulled away. Wiped her eyes. "Now get out of here before I change my mind and tie you to your bed."
We left at midnight.
The campus was dark and quiet. Neal had filed paperwork claiming he was taking Cal on an overnight therapeutic excursion — monitoring his responses to natural environments, he'd written, with the kind of medical jargon that would take days to decode.
James had raided the equipment shed. I'd packed supplies until my bag weighed more than seemed possible.
And Cal walked beside me, wolf form steady for the first time in hours. The promise of action had calmed him. Given him something to hold onto.
We reached the edge of campus — the boundary line marked by old stones and beyond it lay the wilderness. The mountain. The pack that had been waiting years for someone to come back.
I stopped. Looked at the three of them.
James, my cowboy, who had followed me into madness once and was doing it again without hesitation.
Neal, my reluctant doctor, who had thrown away everything he'd built because the bond had finally broken through his walls.
Cal, my feral wolf, who couldn't speak but whose eyes said everything — gratitude, determination, desperate hope.
My mates. My pack.
"Last chance to turn back," I said.
No one moved.
James took my hand. Neal stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine. Cal pressed against my leg, warm and solid.
"Let's go find your pack," I said to Cal.
We crossed the boundary together.
And behind us, Frosthaven Academy disappeared into the dark.