Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
They tried to separate us.
Neal was giving orders—medical protocols, emergency procedures, things that required space and equipment and people who weren't me. Hands reached for Stone, trying to lift him, trying to move him to a proper bed.
He woke up screaming.
Not words—his voice couldn't form words yet. Just sound. Raw and terrified and so human it broke something in my chest. His body jackknifed off the floor, limbs flailing, eyes wild with a panic that flooded through the bond like ice water.
"Stop!" I threw myself over him, shielding him from the hands, from the faces, from everything. "Everyone stop! You're scaring him!"
"Lumi, we need to—"
"Back off!" I didn't know who I was yelling at. Didn't care. "Everyone back off. Give him space. Give him—"
Stone's hands found me. Human hands—shaking, clumsy, the fingers not quite remembering how to grip. They fisted in my shirt and pulled me closer, pulled me down until I was pressed against his chest, until my heartbeat was the only thing between him and the room full of strangers.
Through the bond, I felt his terror. Worse than anything I'd experienced from him before.
Because this wasn't the terror of a wolf facing a threat—this was the terror of a man who had forgotten how to be human.
Who was trapped in a body that felt wrong, surrounded by sensations he couldn't process, drowning in a vulnerability he'd spent years trying to escape.
"I'm here," I whispered. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. Just breathe. Just breathe with me."
His heart was pounding so hard I could feel it through his ribs. His breathing came in sharp, ragged gasps. But his hands didn't let go of my shirt. He held on like I was the only solid thing in a world that had turned to water.
"Everyone out." Neal's voice. Quieter now. Controlled. "Clear the room. Give them space."
Footsteps retreating. The door closing. The room getting quieter.
But not empty.
I lifted my head enough to see Neal crouched a few feet away, his medical bag open beside him, his expression caught between professional concern and something far more personal.
James stood by the door—I could feel him through the bond, a storm of fear and relief and anger he didn't know what to do with. He'd stayed. Of course he'd stayed.
"Stone." I shifted carefully, trying to see his face without pulling away from him. "Stone, can you hear me?"
His eyes found mine. Gold, like they'd always been. But clearer now. The feral haze that had clouded them for weeks was fading, replaced by something raw and overwhelmed and desperately confused.
His mouth opened. His throat worked.
"...hurts."
The word came out broken. Barely a whisper. But it was a word. A real word.
"I know." I cupped his face in my hands. His skin was hot—fever-warm, the shift still burning through his system. "I know it hurts. But you're okay. You're safe."
His brow furrowed. Like the concept didn't translate. Like safe was a word from a language he'd forgotten.
"Where..." He stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. "Where am I?"
"The Healing Center." I kept my voice soft. Steady. "You've been here for weeks. Do you remember?"
Something flickered in his expression. Pain. Memory. The feral weeks bleeding back into his newly-human consciousness.
"Wolf," he rasped. "I was..."
"Yes. For a long time. But you're human now. You shifted back."
He looked down at his hands. Stared at them like he'd never seen fingers before. Slowly, shakily, he turned them over. Examined his palms. The lines there. The scars.
"No." The word came out strangled. "No, I can't—I don't—"
Panic spiked through the bond.
"Stone, look at me." I grabbed his hands, pressed them between mine. "Look at me. Stay with me."
His eyes snapped to my face. Wild. Terrified.
"I can't be human," he said. His voice was getting stronger, but the words came out fractured. Wrong. "Human is where they—human is when—"
"I know." I didn't know. Not really. But I knew enough. "I know something happened. I know human feels dangerous. But you're not there anymore. Wherever they hurt you—you're not there. You're here. With me."
"You." His hands tightened on mine. His eyes searched my face like he was trying to memorize it. "You came inside. The barrier. You..."
"I came to get you. I wasn't going to let you die."
"Should have." The words were barely audible. "Should have let me—"
"No." I leaned closer. Fierce. "I don't accept that. You wanted to live. I felt it. Underneath everything else—underneath all the fighting and the fear—you wanted to live."
His jaw clenched. His eyes squeezed shut. Through the bond, I felt something cracking open inside him. Years of walls. Years of defenses. All of it crumbling under the weight of being seen.
"I don't remember," he whispered. "I don't remember how to do this."
"That's okay. We'll figure it out together."
"What if I can't? What if I—" His voice broke. "What if the wolf is all that's left?"
I thought about the gray one. Four seconds of human form. Recognition in his eyes before he collapsed back into wolf.
"Then we work with what we have," I said. "However long you can hold human form—minutes, hours, whatever—that's enough. That's more than anyone thought was possible."
Stone opened his eyes. Looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why what?"
"Why do you care? I'm—" He gestured weakly at himself. At the scars. The damage. The broken thing he'd become. "I'm nothing. I'm no one. I don't even remember my own name."
The words hit me harder than his teeth against my throat had.
"Stone," I said.
"That's not—"
"It's what I call you. It's what you are to me." I squeezed his hands. "You're not nothing. You're not no one. You're my mate. The bond doesn't make mistakes."
Something shifted in his expression. Disbelief giving way to something more fragile. Something that looked almost like hope.
"Mate," he repeated. Like he was testing the word. Tasting it.
"Yes."
"I don't... I don't know what that means anymore."
"That's okay." I managed a small smile. "I'm still figuring it out myself."
Neal approached slowly, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal. Which, in a way, he was.
"Stone." His voice was calm. Professional. "I'm Neal. I'm a healer. I've been monitoring your condition since you arrived."
Stone's grip on my hands tightened. Through the bond, I felt suspicion. Fear. The instinctive wariness of someone who had learned that people in authority couldn't be trusted.
"He's one of mine," I said softly. "He's safe."
Stone's eyes moved from Neal to me. Back to Neal.
"...yours?"
"My mate. Like you."
Something complicated moved across Stone's face. The concept of sharing—of being part of something larger than a pair—was clearly foreign to him. Or maybe it had been familiar once, before everything that had broken him.
"I need to check your vitals," Neal said. "Make sure the shift didn't cause any additional damage. Can I do that?"
Stone didn't answer. Just looked at me.
"I'll stay right here," I promised. "He won't hurt you."
A long moment. Then, slowly, Stone nodded.
Neal moved closer. His hands were gentle as he checked Stone's pulse, his temperature, his pupils. Stone flinched at every touch—small, involuntary jerks that he couldn't seem to control. But he didn't pull away. Didn't attack.
Progress.
"Vitals are stabilizing," Neal said quietly. "The organ failure has reversed—completely, as far as I can tell. The bond completion did exactly what we hoped."
"But?" I heard the hesitation in his voice.
"But his system is under enormous strain. The shift took a lot out of him. He's going to need rest. Nutrition. Time." Neal's eyes met mine. "And he's probably not going to be able to hold human form for long. Not at first."
Stone made a sound. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sob.
"Wolf," he said. "Always back to wolf."
"For now," I said firmly. "Not forever. The gray one held human form for four seconds. You've been human for—" I looked at Neal.
"Approximately twelve minutes."
"Twelve minutes. That's progress."
Stone didn't look convinced. But he didn't argue either.
"There's blood on your neck," he said instead. His voice had gone flat. Hollow. "I did that."
I'd forgotten about the wounds. They'd stopped hurting—or maybe I'd just stopped noticing.
"It's nothing. Scratches."
"I could have killed you." His hands released mine. Pulled away. "I had my teeth on your throat. I could have—"
"But you didn't."
"I wanted to." The words came out like a confession. Like a crime. "Part of me wanted to. The wolf wanted—"
"But you didn't." I grabbed his hands again, refusing to let him retreat. "You stopped. You chose to stop. That's what matters."
"You don't understand." His eyes were anguished. "I'm not—I'm not safe. I'm not in control. The wolf is still there. It's always there. And if I lose hold of it again—if I slip—"
"Then we deal with it. Together."
"I could hurt you. I could hurt all of you."
"You won't."
"You can't know that."
"I know you." I held his gaze. Refused to look away.
"I've been sitting outside your barrier for weeks, Stone.
I've felt everything you feel. The rage.
The fear. The grief. And underneath all of it—the part of you that's been fighting so hard to stay alive even when you wanted to give up.
" I squeezed his hands. "That's the part that matters. That's the part I'm betting on."
Stone stared at me. His expression changed—slowly, like a wall giving way to something it could no longer hold back.
His eyes filled with tears.
I don't think he knew he was crying.
He looked down at them. At the wetness on his skin. Like he didn't understand what was happening.
"I can't," he said. "I can't do this. I can't—"
His body shuddered. Spasmed.
I felt it through the bond before I saw it—the wolf rising back up. The shift trying to reverse.
"Stone, no—"
"Can't stop it." His voice was strangled. His hands were changing in mine—fingers shortening, nails darkening, bones beginning to crack and reform. "Can't—"
"It's okay." I held on tighter. "It's okay. If you need to shift, shift. I'll be here when you come back."
"Don't want—" His jaw elongated. His words became garbled, impossible. "Don't want to lose—"
"You won't lose me. I promise. I'm not going anywhere."
The shift took him.
It was faster than before—his body remembered the wolf shape, fell into it with something like relief. Within seconds, the man was gone, and the wolf lay in my lap instead. Trembling. Exhausted.
But his eyes—still gold, still present—found mine.
And through the bond, I felt something I'd never felt from him before.
Gratitude.
I buried my fingers in his fur. Held on.
"Twelve minutes," I said softly. "That's twelve more than yesterday. We'll do better tomorrow."
The wolf's eyes closed. His body relaxed against mine.
He slept.
James appeared beside me at some point. I don't know when—time had stopped meaning anything. He didn't speak. Just sat down on the floor next to us, close enough that his shoulder pressed against mine.
Through the bond, I felt his emotions. Still tangled. Still complicated. But the anger had faded, replaced by something quieter. Something that might have been acceptance.
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You scared the hell out of me."
"I know."
"I thought I was going to watch you die."
"I know." I leaned into him. Let him take some of my weight. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just..." He exhaled. "Just don't do it again."
I looked down at Stone—at the wolf sleeping in my lap, the mate I'd nearly died to save, the person who was still more animal than human but who had managed, for twelve impossible minutes, to come back.
"I can't promise that," I said.
James made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh.
"Yeah," he said. "I figured."
We sat there together. The three of us. Waiting for whatever came next.