Elena’s POV
The private jet we chartered from our pack cut through the morning sky like a silver blade. Damien sat across from , his dark eyes never straying far from my face, while Caleb and Briar chattered excitedly with their nanny Skye about seeing snow for the first ti. The tension radiating from my mate was almost suffocating in the confined space.
We touched down in Boston at ten in the morning, the city sprawling beneath us like a concrete maze. Nine hours by car would have been torture with two restless children, and I needed to reach Maine as quickly as possible. Every hour that passed felt like borrowed ti.
The rental SUV slled like artificial pine and old leather. Damien’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel as we drove north toward Maine, where fat snowflakes began dancing across our windshield. The sight of snow after five years away should have been nostalgic, but instead it felt like a warning.
I hadn’t missed winter. I hadn’t missed the way it made everything look dead and buried.
The hotel lobby was warm and bustling when we checked in that afternoon. I made sure the kids were settled, their bags unpacked, and Skye knew the ergency numbers. But Damien wouldn’t stop hovering, his large fra blocking my every movent.
"Your phone," he said for the third ti, his voice rough with barely contained anxiety. "Is it charged?"
"Yes." I held up the device, showing him the full battery. "And you’re still speed dial one. I can call you the second anything goes wrong."
But we both knew he would feel it through our mate bond long before I could reach for my phone. Any real danger, any serious injury, would hit him like a physical blow. The connection between us humd constantly now, a live wire of shared emotion and sensation.
He pulled against his chest, his hands fisting in my hair as he kissed with desperate intensity. I could taste his worry, his fear of letting face this alone. When he finally released , his forehead pressed against mine.
"Co back to ," he whispered, and the rawness in his voice made my chest tight.
I kissed Caleb and Briar goodbye, their small arms wrapping around my neck as I promised to return by tonight, tomorrow at the latest. Skye nodded when I asked her to keep them distracted, her experienced smile reassuring.
The mate bond was a gift I never expected to receive. Damien would never betray , could never even look at another woman with desire. The very idea was biologically impossible now. That absolute trust was sothing I could lean on, even when everything else felt uncertain.
The drive to the Duskclaw Pack Pack territory should have been familiar, but the landscape felt alien under its blanket of snow. As I approached the border, my hands tightened on the steering wheel. Sothing was wrong.
No patrols. No guards.
The border crossing that should have been heavily monitored stood empty, the guard posts abandoned. I drove through slowly, every instinct screaming danger, but the road remained deserted. Where were the warriors who should have challenged an unknown vehicle?
The town itself looked like a movie set after everyone had gone ho. A few figures moved in the distance, but they walked with their heads down, shoulders hunched. It was barely evening, the sun still visible on the horizon, yet the streets felt eerily quiet.
This wasn’t normal. The Duskclaw Pack Pack had always been vibrant, bustling with activity even in the cold months.
The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. I sat in the car for a mont, studying the building where I’d been born, where I’d spent countless hours during my childhood illnesses. Even this place felt diminished sohow, like a photograph that had faded in sunlight.
Inside, the waiting room held maybe a dozen people, but none of them spoke to each other. They sat staring at magazines or the floor, their postures defeated. What struck most was how similar they all looked - smaller, more fragile than I rembered. So faces were familiar, pack mbers I’d grown up with, but they seed... diminished.
They looked like ogas. All of them.
"Can I help you?" The nurse behind the desk looked up with tired eyes, her voice flat and professional.
"I’m looking for my mother. Iris Fairfax."
Sothing flickered across her face - recognition, maybe wariness. Of course they knew who I was. The oga who ran away five years ago. Marcus had probably made sure everyone understood exactly what kind of disgrace I was.
The thought made my stomach clench with guilt. Had he punished the entire pack for my actions? Was that why everyone looked so broken?
"She’s right this way." The nurse led down a hallway that slled of antiseptic and despair.
The room she opened contained nothing but an empty bed and a single chair. The sheets were rumpled, as if soone had been there recently, but now I stared at white walls and silence.
"What the hell is this? Where’s my mother?"
The nurse pulled the chart from the foot of the bed, scanning it with practiced efficiency. "She’s getting so tests done. Should be back shortly." She replaced the chart and left alone with my racing thoughts.
I sank into the chair and pulled out my phone, my fingers shaking slightly as I typed.
- I arrived. She’s apparently getting tests and I have to wait here until she gets back.
DAMIEN - Have you seen Marcus?
- Are you kidding? I’ve barely seen anyone. This place looks like a fucking ghost town.
DAMIEN - That’s not normal. Not this early.
- I know. The sun is only just setting. So I want to know where everyone is. The hospital seems pretty understaffed as well.
Sothing was very, very wrong with the Duskclaw Pack Pack. And I was trapped in the middle of it, waiting for a mother who might not even want to see .
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