The entire time, his pack mates and Yvonne alternated between whispering assurances to Zander and urging Gwen to hold on as they gathered around them. But the assurances didn’t work, because she didn’t seem to be healing. His raging wolf was in an absolute frenzy, clawing at Zander, demanding he do something.
Zander did all he could do—he kept on pushing energy down the mating bond, heart thudding in his chest, wishing he could do more. He did it over and over, until his head began to spin and darkness crept around his vision. He was weak from blood loss, but he couldn’t let that matter.
He’d never in his life felt fear like this. Hadn’t known such a level of hellish, incapacitating, debilitating terror existed. It flooded him. Choked him. Ate at him.
“You need to feed her strength, Zander,” Ally said urgently.
“I am,” he clipped. “It’s not making any fucking difference.” Every bit of energy he pumped into her seemed to fizzle out. The head wound didn’t seem to be improving, and her vitals were getting worse. At most, his and Ally’s efforts were keeping her alive . . . but only barely. The weaker Gwen got, the weaker the bond became. Right then, it was threadlike.
Zander was just as weak. He felt hollowed out, like he didn’t have much left to give. He suspected that the only thing keeping him conscious was the crazed terror that was like a band around his chest. “Why the fuck isn’t it working?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
“There are some things that even a healer can’t fix,” said Derren, voice low.
Zander shook his head at the softly delivered warning. No. Gwen wasn’t going to fucking die.
A crying Yvonne shot Derren a hard look. “She’ll live.”
“I’m gonna fix it,” Ally insisted, sniffling. “I am. I can.”
Derren rubbed her back. “Baby, you’re wiped.”
Ally shook him off. “I can do it.”
Derren looked at Zander, his expression sympathetic. “If I wasn’t feeding Ally my strength, she’d be unconscious right now. She’s not going to last much longer.”
Ally blinked back tears. “If Gwen were a shifter, it would be easier—she’d have accelerated healing, and that would help the process. But she’s human, so she doesn’t. All we can do is keep trying.”
Zander felt as Gwen’s heartbeat stuttered weakly. Panicked, he pushed a large pulse of energy down the bond so fast that he swayed. Light-headed, he blinked. He couldn’t afford to pass out; she needed him. His wolf snapped his teeth at him, urging him to stay awake, to hold their mate to them.
“Jesus,” breathed Bracken.
Tracking his gaze, Zander stared. What the fuck? Three people stood a few feet away, their eyes dull and concerned. Which would have been fine if they weren’t partly transparent. He noticed then that their clothes and hairstyles were old-fashioned.
Yvonne shot to her feet, glaring at them. “No, you don’t get to take her.” Her voice broke, and a sob caught in her throat. “You can’t have her.”
But one of the teenage . . . entities, ghosts, whatever the fuck it was . . . slowly came toward them, her eyes resting on Gwen. Yvonne went hysterical. Bracken, Jesse, and Harley started swearing. Frozen, Zander could only stare at the . . . whatever it was.
She walked right through Yvonne, but she didn’t go to Gwen. She went to Ally. Derren growled and pushed at her, which did absolutely nothing because his arm just went straight through her. The girl touched Ally’s head. The Seer’s hair went static, and her T-shirt ruffled, and the girl faded away . . . right along with the other two whatever-they-were.
Zander almost jumped as healing energy literally shot through Gwen. He was honestly surprised her back didn’t bow with the force of it.
Double-blinking, Ally inhaled deeply. “We can do this. We can. Hold her here, Zander.”
He held on to Gwen through their bond, giving her what little reserves he had left. His entire system seemed to shake with relief when her heartbeat picked up and her breathing improved. Their bond soon strengthened, and the color returned to her face. More important, the dent in her skull was gone.
Ally sat back. “She’ll be okay.” Then the Seer burst into tears and leaned into her mate, who held her close.
Zander slipped his arms under Gwen and gathered her to him, trying to keep his hold gentle when all he wanted to do was squeeze her tight. His hands were fucking trembling, and he knew his legs would have given in if he’d been standing.
Heat behind his eyelids, he buried his face in her neck and felt her pulse beat strong against his mouth. She was alive. She was with him.
He somehow swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. For a moment, when their bond had become so thin and fragile that he’d expected it to snap, he’d experienced a hint of the profound loneliness that would overwhelm him if he’d had to live without her. A hint of the emptiness that would have awaited him, that would have consumed him until there was nothing left for him. He couldn’t live without her, and if it wasn’t for Ally, he would have been forced to.
Zander looked up at Ally. “Thank you.” The words sounded like gravel.
She gave him a wan smile. “You’re welcome. Thank you for helping me help her.”
Zander turned back to Gwen, drinking in every detail of her face even though he knew it by heart. His wolf pushed against his skin, rubbing up against her and breathing her in. Zander felt Ally then put a hand on him, felt her healing energy flow through him, warm and soothing, but his eyes were locked on his mate.
“I really thought we’d lost her,” sobbed Yvonne, who kept stroking and kissing Gwen’s hair even as Zander cradled his mate against him. She didn’t try to take her from him, which was a good thing because it wouldn’t have worked.
He felt Ally’s hand leave him, and he guessed she must have then used her skills on Yvonne, because he heard the woman release a gasp of wonder.
Moments later, Ally sighed. “I got nothing left.” And she slumped against Derren.
Jesse crouched next to Zander. “Come on. Me and Bracken will help you get back to the bedroom before you fall asleep right there.” Before pride could make Zander reflexively jut out his chin, Jesse snorted and said without heat, “Just suck it the fuck up, asshole.”
Too tired to argue, Zander sucked it up.
Eyes closed, Gwen stood under the hot spray. Shampoo bubbles and blood swirled together as they ran down the drain. It was the third time she’d shampooed her hair, and that seemed to be the last of the blood. Finally.
Nothing like your last memory being a large ornament getting smashed over your head.
As everything had started to go black, she’d known death was coming. She hadn’t had even a moment to think about what she would be leaving behind. The world had faded too fast. All she’d felt was a knowing that this was the end. And then she’d woken up. Thank fuck for that, because she couldn’t stand the thought of Zander being left alone.