My arms were growing tired. Even while sparring with the werewolves, I’d never moved so quickly, hitting and blocking seemingly within the same second. I needed more juice.
“Walls!” I yelled, only giving them a moment before I pulled hard.
I used the new power to push away yet another attack. But my narrowed focus enabled another wolf to lurch closer.
Carlos reached out and grabbed the creature by the throat, stopping its forward advance. In the second before he yanked the beast away, it lashed out with its claws, raking my side. I grunted at the pain but didn’t stop moving.
Behind me, Ethan’s anger slipped. He’d been holding his guard well, trying to shield me from his emotions as much as to shield himself from my pull. Now, he fought furiously, irate that someone had actually hurt me. I also felt his exhaustion and pain. He favored his right shoulder. I’d done that to him.
Turning, I caught one of the attackers by the throat and threw him away before he could touch Ethan. Ethan swiped out with his knife and caught another man’s forearm.
The rumble of more feet vibrated the ground, and I felt a flicker of fear. My own. There were too many. Sweat coated Ethan’s face and wet the back of his shirt. Even the infallible Carlos strained against five partially shifted men.
I fought harder. We needed to reduce their numbers before more came. I stepped forward, slamming my fist down on a muzzle. The crack I heard should have worried me—my bones or his?—but I was already turning to face the next creature.
Then, the world stilled.
Pain ripped through me, sudden and sharp. I struggled to breathe and clutched at my middle. My gaze fell to my hands. But there was nothing there. No blood. My eyes widened as I realized the pain wasn’t my own.
Lifting my head, I saw the unthinkable. A half-formed wolf stood toe to toe with Ethan. Ethan’s mouth was open in a silent cry of pain, his knife paused in the air, mid-swing. I saw why. The thing’s furry arm had vanished into Ethan’s stomach, piercing him. As I watched, the creature pulled his bloody hand out. A drop of red fell to the ground in slow motion.
No, this wasn’t right. It wasn’t real. I blinked and made a sound of denial when the image remained. The thing before Ethan cackled and turned toward me.
Like a marionette cut from its strings, Ethan crumpled to his knees. The knife fell from his loose fingers. His arm pressed against his bloody stomach, and he fell to his side.
I barely noticed Carlos jump between the creature that had hurt Ethan and me.
The thing cried out in pain while I dropped to the ground beside Ethan. Someone shouted something at me but I couldn’t hear.
Ethan’s gaze found mine, and his lips twisted in a sad smile as the chaos around us seemed a world away. His ragged breathing filled my ears, and I felt everything.
His hopelessness and pain.
His love.
His acceptance of his death.
The acceptance cut me deep. I clutched at his hand and petted his cheek.
“No, Ethan,” I said. “Stay with me. Come on.”
Memories flashed through my mind. Us walking to school together. Me defending him when kids would pick on him for his crappy clothes. Him convincing me to go to my first high school dance.
His hand rose and touched the loose ends of my hair.
“I love you.”
The pain in my gut intensified, and tears tracked down my cheeks at his words. He wasn’t just saying he loved me. He was saying goodbye. I wanted to scream. He wasn’t supposed to die. It was E-Z all the way. We’d made that promise so long ago. Together, always. I held his hand tighter.
“I love you, too.” I bent forward and kissed him. My lips trembled against his. His fingers touched my cheek. I tasted blood, and my tears fell faster. I couldn’t let him go like this.
Slowly, I inhaled, pulling in emotions from everyone around me. Bethi’s anger and fear. Luke’s devotion to Bethi. Clay’s determination to keep Gabby safe. Gabby’s despair and resignation. Sam’s outrage when someone clawed Gabby. Grey’s deep sorrow.
I couldn’t feel Ethan’s pain.
I breathed again, pulling harder, tasting Emmitt’s steely resolve that no one touch Michelle. Jim’s boiling anger that one of the monsters had tried for his mother. Charlene’s absolute love for her boys and Thomas.
Something dripped from my nose. A bit of blood. I wiped it away along with the tears still flowing freely.
“Stop, Z. Don’t take my pain.” He pulled in a shallow breath. “It’ll keep me here just a little longer.”
My breath hitched on a sob. I hadn’t taken any of his pain. It was already gone. I knew what that meant.
“I can’t do this without you,” I choked out. “Please. You just have to wait.” For what, I didn’t know. There were no sirens rushing toward us, no doctors running to stanch the blood flowing from the hole in his stomach.