A Mate's Revenge

Recovering from another death escapades, my breath hitched in frustration and pain as the low inaudible voices from our vehicle was becoming clear enough.

Ive lost count of how many times my mate has offered me to the rogue wolves in the pack. They would stab me multiple times, and on several occasions they would tie me to a bicycle and drag my body around just to please him and his mate. His damned mistress.

To be precise, this is the ninety-nineth time.

Thats how many deaths Ive clawed my way back fromeach time to the sound of his voice, colder than the winter moon, telling someone to "deal with it."

The most recent one was when he didnt hesitate to shove me straight into the path of a rampaging rogue in its beast form. Just to shield herhis radiant Debbiefrom a splash of blood.

"Shes sensitive," he growled, not even glancing at my crumpled body. "Debbie cant stomach the scent of carnage right now."

Someone lifted my limp form and tossed it into the bed of a rusted pickup like I was just another piece of trash from the battlefield.

Make sure she doesnt bleed out here, Trixie added, wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief. I dont want the stench fouling the ride.

I didnt fight. My bones cracked with every breath. I curled into the shadows, listening to the low murmur of voices, muffled by metal and dust.

She always comes back, someone scoffed. Bet shell mutter sorry again when she does. Ninety-nine times now, yeah? I could easily recognize the voice. It belonged to Tisha, Debbie's evil sister.

Another voice, amused. Ill put fifty million on it. That voice belonged to Chelsea, Debbie's best friend.

"That snitch..." I muttered in my quivering voice. I remember when I caught her and Trixie having sex together while Debbie was at the hospital. Foolish Debbie. I don't want to talk about how trashy they are. I let out a scoff.

They didnt know it was remaining one last time. Death number one hundred would sever the bond. The Moon Goddess herself would let me go. I wouldnt return for him again.

No more love. No more pain. No more begging to be seen.

When my lungs filled with air again, it wasnt relief I feltit was fury.

The bed of the truck reeked of rust and rot. Dried blood clung to my ribs like old paint.

From the cab came the sound of heaving. Debbies nausea was always louder than it needed to be.

The engine screeched to a halt. Gravel bit into the tires.

A door slammed. Trixies boots crunched toward me. He stared down like I was something hed rather step over than acknowledge.

Youre alive.

The tone in his voice was more serious to make it a question. He was making a complaint.

Get out. Debbies going pale from the smell.

I didnt argue. I pushed off the bed, my fingers slipping in the congealed mess beneath me.

My shirtwhat was left of itwas already soaked. Still, I wiped the blood from the rusted metal as best I could. Debbie hated filth. Once, she refused to wear shoes after they touched a patch of dirt.

Trixie had forced me to crawl ahead of her, skin to stone, to keep her steps clean.

As I finished, his voice came again, low and almost placating.

Behave. Once Debbie delivers the heir, maybe Ill

She gagged again.

And he forgot I existed. He turned, rushing back to her side, one hand shielding her swollen belly, the other brushing her hair back as though the world revolved around her morning sickness.

He barked into his comm: Send another ride. Ten minutes.

He was breathlessanxious, even. The last time I saw that kind of panic in his eyes was the first time I died for him.

A fight had broken out in the forest during full moon training. Hed been dragged into the lake by a feral shifter. I dove in, claws first, dragging him to the shore.

My lungs gave out. My heart followed.

He had screamed for help then. Promised anything.

Id trade places with her! Just bring her back!

But that was then. Before the pattern became a rhythm.

Three deaths. Then ten. Then ninety-nine.

By the hundredth, he didnt flinch anymore. I was just another object in his orbit, used to keep Debbie smiling.

A breeze sliced through the clearing. I stepped down from the truck, every bone aching.

Hey. His voice, sharp and familiar, sliced through the air behind me. Forgot something?

I didnt look back.

...Sorry.

My voice was flat. Mechanical. He always made me say it.

Sorry for bleeding.

Sorry for breathing.

Sorry for being.

I started to walk.

Too obedient this time, I suppose. He sounded almost pleased.

Trucks filthy. Clean it. Well wait for the new ride.

They stepped out together. Trixie kept his arm around her, shielding her like she was a crown jewel. His eyes were full of hernever once flicking toward me.

I remembered once being the one he protected.

Three moons after I conceived, my wolf pup barked at Debbie. She shrieked. Claimed trauma.

Trixie snapped his fingers. Two trained hounds were released. They didnt stop until I couldnt stand. Until the child inside me was nothing but a memory.

Afterward, he knelt by Debbies side and said, Therell be other children. But if I dont punish her, shell never learn.

I never conceived again. The healers said the damage was... final.

But maybe that was freedom.

I limped behind them, my steps barely audible under their laughter. The front gates opened.

The housekeeperMrs. Smithstood in my way. Her eyes flicked over me, her face tightening.

The young master said Miss Debbies scent is too refined. She cant bear the smell of blood. You know how she gets.

I nodded. I didnt plead.

Mrs. Smith turned on the hose.

Ice-cold water slammed into me. I hit the stone tiles, arms wrapped around my gut, barely breathing.

Ten minutes. Maybe more.

When the torrent finally stopped, I crawled inside.

Past the doors I once opened freely.

Past the rooms I once called mine.

Dripping, invisible, broken.

I found the downstairs bathroom, shut the door, and peeled off what was left of me.

Then I sat beneath the sink, knees to chest, heart to silence.

There was only one left.

The final shift. The last breath. The edge of the line.

Debbies voice slithered through the silence like smoke. Hes done ninety-nine. That kind of survival? You can't breed thatits forged. Maybe if our pup had even half that spine

Trixie didnt look at her. His eyes were on the fire, jaw clenched so tightly it could snap. Theres a den near the lowlands, he muttered, voice hoarse. They dont train halfbloods. They dismantle them. Tear out instincts and rewire the brain. Like machines.

Debbie hummed, almost delighted. Is that what makes them obedient?

He didnt answer.

She tilted her head. We could take him there.

His voice dropped, edged with steel. Not now.

The stillness returned, but something about it felt wronglike standing in the eye of a storm, knowing the rest is just waiting to hit.

Then she giggled, as if none of it mattered. Do you think this peach is safe? she asked brightly, lifting the fruit with an elegance that masked her cruelty.

I had just stepped in.

I froze.

She moved toward me like a predator cloaked in grace. Selena, darling, she purred, extending the peach, be a dear and try it for me. Just one bite.

I didnt reach for it. Not yet.

Trixies eyes flicked toward me. Then the fruit. Then my lips.

He remembered.

He shouldve stopped her.

But he didnt.

So I did what I always did. I took the poison.

My fingers curled around the velvet skin of the fruit. I bit down.

The sweetness was a lie. The taste was violence.

Juice spilled down my chin, sticky and warm. It clung to me like guilt. My body began to revolt, every nerve screamingbut I didnt stop.

Let it be over.

Let me go.

Then he moved.

Faster than breath, Trixie crossed the room and seized me by the back of the neck. The pain made stars explode behind my eyes as the fruit fell from my lips.

His palm struck my face.

Hard.

The room tilted. My head rang.

What the hell is wrong with you? he barked. His voice crackedtoo loud, too human. Do you want to die? Is that it?

I didnt speak.

I swallowed what was left.

His hand trembled against my skin.

Then something shifted. His grip loosened. His touch changed.

He cupped my face as though I might break. Spit it out, he whispered. Please. Dont make me watch this.

But it was already happening.

My chest seized.

Air became knives.

I fell to the ground, fingers clawing at wood. My body convulsed. My vision blurred.

Behind me, Debbie made a gagging sound that was too practiced, too convenient.

Trixie spun. Shes reacting againDebbie!

I didnt know it was that bad, Debbie whimpered, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. It just smells off.

The housekeeper rushed in, skidding to a halt at the doorway.

Oh goddessshes seizing again! he gasped. Should I call the Pack Healer?

Trixie hesitated.

That heartbeat of doubt cracked something in me.

Then he swept Debbie into his arms like she was the one dying.

She cant be around this. Take care of her first. Lock Selena in the washroom. I dont want her scent in the nursery.

He didnt look at me when he said it.

Do it, he snapped at the housekeeper. Now.

But I didnt wait.

I dragged myself upright. My legs were shaking. I staggered into the guest bath, locked the door, and collapsed against the wall.

Outside, the house fell into muffled murmurs and shifting feet.

She just wants attention, Trixie said eventually, his voice barely audible through the door. Shes acting out.

No. I wasnt acting. I was vanishing.

When I came to, hours had passed. The quiet was thick enough to choke on.

I was still alive.

Of course I was.

The dose had been too light. Again.

I turned my head. The nightstand glowed under the lamplight. A pill bottle stood beside a folded note.

Take these when you wake. Ill be back soon.

No name. But I knew that handwriting. It used to cover my walls, years ago.

You looked cold today. Stay inside.

Don't run during your cycle. Let me pace you.

You're strong. Dont let them convince you otherwise.

The notes disappeared long before the person did.

I exhaled slowly, eyes burning.

And that was the sound he heard when he walked in.

You mad it didnt work? Trixie asked, voice like frost.

I didnt lift my head.

He moved closer, boots thudding against the floor like falling judgment. Did you even take your meds?

I gestured. The bottle was still full.

His jaw clenched.

He stared at me like I was some puzzle he once knew how to solvebut forgot the pieces to.

I picked up the bottle and dumped the contents into my palm.

Then I held them out to him.

You want me quiet? Numb? Gone? I said, my voice raw. You can do it. You can finish what they started.

His eyes locked with mine.

He didnt speak.

He didnt move.

But I saw the flickerthe one thing he didnt want me to see.

Fear.

Not for me.

Of me.

He took the pills from my hand. One by one.

Then he turned away again.

He always turned away.

And I

I just kept waiting for someone to stay.

Thats enough. Hand them over. Ill take them myself.

My voice was leveltoo level. Like the eye of a storm right before it swallows everything.

Trixie stilled. His shoulders squared, nostrils flaring as if scenting something off in my tone.

Selena, dont be stupid. His growl trembled at the edges. You dont know what those will do to you.

The bottle of wolfsbane capsules dangled between my fingers. Then, with a sudden roar, he slapped them from my hand. They hit the floor with a hard clatter, pills scattering like bones.

You want to die? His voice cracked, primal and shaking. Fine. Then die. But not like this. Not in front of me.

He went quiet after that, panting, fists clenched at his sides like he was holding back from shifting. Trixie wasnt the kind to shout. Not usually. But his eyesthose cold, glacial thingswere flooded with heat.

He tugged off his jacket, tossed it over the chair, and turned from me with a sharp flick of his wrist. Enough of your theatrics.

Youre not dying, he muttered, voice lowering to a dangerous pitch. Weve tested every bloodline theory. Every moon cycle. Still nothing. The Pack down north has a lab. Theyre willing to study whats inside you. If they can extract even a fragment of your regenerative strain maybe itll help the pup growing in Debbie.

There. Hed said it.

I didnt flinch. Just rolled up my sleeve, offering my arm like a gift to the gods.

Take it, I said softly. Take all of it if you want. Maybe youll finally be rid of me that way.

Something inside him faltered. But his duty to Debbieand to the unborn heir she carriedwon out.

He called in the Pack healer.

The needle wasnt silver, but it might as well have been. It burrowed deep, draining not just blood but memory. I watched it fill, red and thick with my DNA. The very thing they wanted. The very thing I hated.

I didnt tell them the truth.

That I was dying, yesbut not from some disease. I was nearing my hundredth death. The last in a long chain of silent sacrifices that no one remembered, not even the wolf who had once howled my name under moonlight.

Once that final death arrived, Id be gonenot just from this pack, but from the tether that bound me to this world.

Truly gone.

Trixies phone buzzed. Without a glance in my direction, he picked up.

Tomorrow. Ill drive her to the lab myself.

The healer hesitated. Alpha, she should rest. Her vitals are... thinning.

She wont die. Trixies voice was arctic.

The healer swallowed whatever protest he had. But Trixie didnt come the next day. Or the one after.

Instead, the shared Pack account pinged with transactions.

Maternity coats. Fur-lined boots. A winter bassinet.

A memory slammed into me like a blow.

We were once on northern patrolbefore the mating bond between him and Debbie. A blizzard hit, sudden and brutal. Debbie had tracked him up there, frostbitten and weeping. Trixie wrapped her in his coat. Thenwithout a wordripped mine off too and draped it over her.

She followed me, he snapped when I opened my mouth. And you left her out there. You heartless mutt.

They left me behind that night.

My wolf nearly froze solid before dawn.

I came back only to find them already mated.

I blinked, coming back to the present.

I ordered them custom-matched arctic gloves.

Then I severed my link to the Packs joint account.

Later, Trixie sent a single message.

I didnt reply.

Not long after, I heard heavy footsteps outside my den door. A familiar knock. Authoritative. Impatient.

Get dressed. Were leaving.

I rose silently. My limbs creaked like winter branches.

Debbie stood behind him, belly swollen, smile painted sweet as rot.

Selena, she purred. It must be exhausting, donating so much of yourself for our pup. But if the lab finds nothing... we may need more. Maybe even open you up. Gently, of course.

For the child, she added with a wink.

I understand, I said, utterly still.

Trixies jaw ticked. Thats enough, Debbie.

She laughed like she didnt hear him. But I saw the flicker in her eyesthe momentary panic.

The three of us rode in silence.

Trixie turned on music. Something soft and old. It didnt matter.

The silence drowned it out.

Debbie scoffed, but it wasnt casual. Her scoff, it landed on me heavy and sharp, like broken glass being swept across tile.

Are we really doing this again? Her voice grated in the stillness, coated in mockery. You know I hate that sound. Its like somethings dying in slow motion.

Her hand flicked toward the dashboard, but Trixie slapped it awaywithout looking.

The sound persisted. Low and throaty. The Wolf Elders' chant, ancient and unyielding, spilled from the speakers like smoke creeping under a locked door. It wasnt music. It was memory. It was blood.

It unsettled her, but moved me. Because I knew what it was, what it meant to Trixie.

Outside, rain stitched the world shut. Fat droplets dragged their way down the glass in crooked, hesitant lines. The forest on either side of the road blurred into a smear of shadows. No moon. No wind. Just the hum of tires pulling us farther away from everything we knewand toward something neither of us dared name.

Inside, the silence curdled.

Trixie gripped the wheel like it was the last thing anchoring him to himself. His fingers were stiff, bloodless. The muscles in his jaw twitched oncethen again.

He hadnt spoken since we left the city.

But nownow, he moved.

Just his eyes.

They slid to the rearview mirror. Slowly. He didnt check the road. Or even cared to blink.

He looked for me. Searching frantically through the rearview mirror.

No, at me.

His gaze caught mineheavy, unreadable. Like he was weighing something he couldnt bring himself to say aloud.

I didnt speak either.

I didnt need to.

I could feel it rising in himthe thing he was swallowing. It pressed against the silence like it might split open and spill across the leather seats.

Debbie sighed loudly, pulling her coat tighter around her swollen belly. You know, Trixie, she said, not bothering to hide her irritation, were supposed to be celebrating. The babys almost here. And youre dragging us into the middle of nowhere listening to this cursed muttering?

Still, he didnt answer.

He was staring straight through me now, and yet I could feel his focus like heat pressed against skin.

He remembered.

He remembered that I used to hum along with those chants when I thought no one was listening. That I used to whisper the Old Tongue in my sleep, as if some part of me refused to forget where I came from. That once, long ago, I believed in what those songs meant.

Now I was silent. Still.

A passenger in the backseat of a car that used to feel like home.

The chant deepened. The voices on the track grew thicker, woven with something not human. Not anymore.

Debbie shifted, uncomfortable. God, its like being buried alive in sound. Can you turn it off already?

And stillhe didnt respond.

But this time, he did move.

His hand jerked forward and twisted the dial. Not just turning the chant offbut cutting it. Killing it.

The silence that followed was worse.

Dead. Thick. Final.

Debbie started talking again. Something about names. Colors for the nursery. The healer's predictions. Her voice bounced around the cabin like wind in a tomb, completely unaware of the grief crawling its way into the space between Trixie and me.

He stared at the road, but I saw it.

The twitch of his eyelid.

The muscle shifting in his jaw.

The betrayal.

Because she didnt know what the chant meant.

But I did.

And so did he.

Selena.

He said my name like he was testing it on his tongue, checking if it still meant anything.

I lifted my eyes to the rearview mirror and met his stareflat, still, unreadable. My face didnt move. Not a twitch. I gave him nothing.

But he didnt need words.

He remembered.

I used to hum to the old chants under my breath. When the others rolled their eyes, I kept singing. Not loudjust enough. Reverent. Intimate. Like I was offering something. Like I believed it mattered.

I said those harmonics were older than any of us. That they carried the pulse of something not dead yet.

And now?

I sat in silence, arms folded, coat zipped to the throat. A passenger. A body. I didnt move. I didnt speak.

But silence has weight, and mine wasnt gentle. It pressed into the car, made the air taste like metal.

Trixies fingers shifted on the steering wheel, subtle, but telling. His jaw moved, just once, like he was grinding back words he didnt want to let loose.

Then his hand darted forward, sharp and certain, and killed the chant mid-breath.

The quiet that replaced it wasnt relief. It was severance. Like snapping a cord youve been holding too tight.

Debbie didnt notice. Or maybe she did, but she chose not to acknowledge it. She adjusted her seatbelt, patted the curve of her stomach like it might start a conversation.

I was thinking Elara, if its a girl, she said, all breathy enthusiasm. Has a moon ring to it, right? Elara Jagger. Strong, but pretty.

She laughedlight, practiced, just a bit too loud for the space. A laugh shed used before. Probably with him.

Beside her, Trixies face didnt flinch. Didnt nod. Didnt turn.

He wasnt there with her.

Not really.

He stared ahead like the road was gone and he was still driving.

But his eyes found me again, briefly, in the mirror. A glance that didnt ask anything outright. Just lingered, as if staring long enough might draw out a response I didnt have to give.

I looked back at him, expression blank.

No hatred. No warmth. Just silence.

Because whatever thread used to bind usit had thinned.

The wolf in me no longer responded to his voice.

Outside, the gravel slowed under the tires. The forest peeled back to reveal the outpost. Fog pressed against the windows, thick and damp, like breath on glass. Somewhere above, unseen, the mountain loomedquiet, sharp, waiting.

Two guards stepped forward, dressed in slate-black armor, hands behind their backs. They didnt speak. Just nodded once to Trixie and opened the reinforced steel door. It slid aside with a dull grind, the weight of it vibrating faintly through the car floor.

Inside, the air changed.

Everything was clinical. Sharp. Cold.

White lights buzzed softly overhead, and the walls were painted that sterile shade of not-white, the kind that made your skin itch if you looked too long. You could smell the burn of silver in the airthick, biting, like it wanted to crawl into your lungs.

Dr. Hemlock appeared without ceremony, gliding from the corridor like something exhaled by the building itself. Tall, pale, sharp-edged in a way that made you think of scalpels. His gloves still steamed from whatever sterilization bath hed dipped them in. The scent that clung to him wasnt just disinfectantit was processed death.

Alpha Trixie, he greeted, nodding without warmth. Weve run five trials this week. Tissue sample batch 29-B is showing faster-than-expected cellular regrowth. Shes still yielding. Remarkably.

He didnt look at Trixie when he said it. He looked at me.

I didnt meet his stare.

Trixie did.

His expression didnt shift, but something behind it did. His voice came out quiet, even.

Results only.

Hemlock didnt push. He adjusted his clipboard, spine rigid, tone clipped.

Theres a problem. The anomaly in her bloodthe regenerative curveis unraveling. Were past the peak. Every minute we wait, we lose viability. At this rate therell be nothing left to study. No recovery window.

He paused. Glanced again at me, more careful this time.

Were reaching the end.

Trixie didnt speak right away.

His eyes tracked the corridornot idly, not distractedly, but with intention. He was thinking. Calculating. Past the thick-glass partition and the reinforced steel doors waited something unspoken. Something classified. And dangerous. The inner lab breathed with machines, blinked with sensors, and hummed like something alive.

When he finally turned back to Debbie, the air seemed to shift.

"Wait here," he said.

No tenderness. Just a directive, clipped and final.

"Radiation levels spike past the second corridor."

He didnt wait for her response. He was already walking, already gone. The door groaned open, mechanical and reluctant, before sealing him inside with a sound that seemed too close to a coffin lid.

Then Debbie moved.

Whatever softness she had been wearingthe fluttery concern, the careful gestures around her belly, the light cadence of her voiceshed off her like a snake peeling out of old skin. Her posture shifted in increments: first the tilt of her neck, then the arch of her spine. Her eyes lost their fog. She blinked once, slow. Intentional.

Her face no longer held a mask of warmth. She looked at me like a surgeon might look at a body on a slab.

"You look like hell," she said, the smile gone, her voice stripped down to its bones. "Must be hard, carrying the weight of miracles."

I didnt answer. My stare stayed fixed on a point just beyond her shoulder, cold and focused, the only resistance I still owned.

She closed the distance between us.

"No comeback? No defiance today?" Her voice dripped condescension. "Thought so."

I could feel the heat of her breath now. It smelled sweetartificial, rotted fruit sweetness, like something trying too hard to be alive. She tilted her head, mock-curious.

"Theyre draining you like an old well, and you just keep giving. That has to be exhausting."

From her coat, she pulled a glass vial, opaque and black as ink. She turned it in her fingers, letting it catch the lab light.

"It doesnt matter how many times you crawl back from the brink, Selena. Eventually, even gods run out."

I blinked slowly. She mistook it for fear.

"Want to make it interesting?" she whispered. "A wager. If he saves you, I disappear. If he saves me... you? You're erased. No resurrection. No echoes."

She leaned in until her lips nearly grazed my ear. "Spoiler alert: He wont pick you."

Then she moved fast.

Grabbed my hand. Slammed it against her throat.

And in the same breath, she uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents whole.

Her body reacted instantly.

A strangled gasp cut through the air as she collapsed to the ground, her limbs seizing violently. Foam gathered at her lips, thick and white. Her back arched off the tile like she was being lifted by invisible strings.

My heart slammed into my ribs, legs frozen in place, mind blank with a sharp, animal panic.

Then I heard it.

Trixies voice.

It wasnt a shout. It wasnt concern.

It was a command ripped from something deeper.

"Debbie?!"

The clang of boots hit the metal floor in a rhythm that was both furious and inevitable. He burst through the lab door, eyes scanning, not breathing, already seeing too much.

He dropped beside her, knees hitting the tile with a hollow thud. His hands, usually steady, trembled as they found her face.

"Debbie? Debbie! No, no, stay with me"

Her eyes were rolling. Her chest convulsed. Her fingers clawed at her swollen stomach, smearing sweat and blood across the fabric.

He turned to me.

And something in him cracked open.

"What the hell did you do?!"

I couldnt even form a sentence.

Dr. Hemlock stormed in behind him, took one look, and dropped his clipboard. It hit the floor like a gunshot.

"Alphathe fetus is losing oxygen. We either harvest now or lose everything."

Trixies head snapped toward me. There was no time left in his face. Only decision.

"Then use her. Now."

Steel cuffs clamped around my wrists before I could even scream.

No nodont you dareno.

Trixie dropped. Not like a warrior collapsing in defeat. No, he sank like a man unraveling in real time, hitting the floor with none of the grace expected of an Alpha. His voicewhat was left of itsplintered around her name.

He gathered Debbies face in both hands, his forehead pressed hard against hers, like he could will her back into her body. Like proximity could reverse poison.

Debbie. Debbie, look at me, he whispered. Stay here. Dont leave. Dont

She twitched. Just once. Maybe it was recognition. Maybe it was just death flexing her fingers.

And then his head snapped toward me.

Something inside him snapped with it.

The grief burned off his skin in an instant, replaced by something far older. Wilder. What stood in his place now wasnt a manit was the core of something feral and barely restrained.

You, he said through his teeth. No title. No name. Just that one word, ripped clean of civility. What the hell did you do?

I opened my mouth, breath caught mid-throat, but nothing came. What could I even say?

He was already halfway to his feet, shoulders bunched like a storm winding itself tight. His hands trembled, and I didnt know if it was grief or fury or bothbut his wolf was there, just beneath the skin, panting to get out.

Alpha!

The sound cracked across the roomDr. Hemlock, arriving like a scalpel drawn too late. His coat flared behind him, his face pale and slick with urgency as he took in the scene: Debbie convulsing, her mouth foaming, her fingers digging raw lines into the swell of her own belly.

The fetus is losing oxygen, Hemlock said, all breath and calculation. Rapid drop. If we dont extract immediately, we lose the subject. And her.

Trixie didnt turn right away.

He stood motionless, breathing oncetwice. Then his jaw shifted. Something silent passed between his teeth.

When he did look at me, it wasnt hatred. It wasnt confusion.

It was something emptier. Something final.

He didnt ask. He didnt warn.

Use her.

Two words. Flat. Dry. Like the clink of a knife on steel.

I didnt even feel the restraints snap in until I hit the slab. One second I was uprightthe next, the cold bit into my wrists and ankles and shoved the breath out of my lungs. Steel bands groaned into place, the hiss of hydraulics sealing me into a position I couldnt even fight.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Trixie, dontpleaselisten to me, this isnt

He didnt look. Not once. Not a flicker.

He just turned his back and knelt beside her again, brushing the hair off Debbies clammy forehead like they were alone in the world.

His voice, when it came again, was quiet. Almost gentle.

Shes the one carrying the pup, Hemlock said, wiping down silver instruments. His hands didnt shake. But Selena is the original. Shes the last clean link to the regenerative line. If we lose her

Take what you need, Trixie murmured, still stroking Debbies cheek with a tenderness that made my skin crawl. I want that pup breathing.

Hemlock hesitated. His eyes shifted between usbetween me and the man who had once stood in front of bullets for me.

You mean the doctor said, glancing at the monitors. All of it?