Chapter Seventeen

From my hiding spot backstage, I peered out at the crowd gathered in the auditorium to celebrate my work. Flashes flickered from cameras around the darkened room, and the red lights glowed as reporters began recording.

This was the moment I'd waited for—I was going to present my research and put it out into the world where it could hopefully be used to save countless lives.

After being left alone the day before, I'd felt too good to rest. I dressed quickly and returned to my lab. The first thing I'd done was draw my blood and compare it to the results from my last blood panel.

To my shock, almost all my values were within normal ranges. There were a couple of things I'd need to recheck, but if the blood test was to be trusted, my organs were no longer failing.

If this wasn't just a temporary fluke due to the bite, it meant I might live. And that was something I hadn't dared to let myself even consider as an option.

But how was Beckett going to feel about being stuck with me for life if he couldn't even handle staying with me the night he'd marked me? A fling was one thing… a lifetime commitment was another.

Pushing those anxiety-inducing thoughts from my mind, I'd poured my energy into going over the results of all the recent tests my drug had gone through and prepared my presentation.

All that was left was presenting it to the world so further trials and research could continue, and drug companies could start the race to see who could be first to manufacture it for the public.

By giving my complete research to the world, I was forcing the companies to compete with each other, rather than one company being allowed to gate-keep it. I hoped that would keep the cost of the drug in reasonable ranges.

This was the day I'd prayed I would survive long enough to see. But as I scanned the sea of faces, instead of feeling elated, icy discomfort flooded my veins.

When I'd emailed the organizer at two this morning with confirmation I was ready to share the results of my research, I'd expected it to take weeks for her to put together a press event.

She'd emailed me four hours later with instructions to arrive at the auditorium by eight in the morning. I'd kept her in the loop over the last month, but I couldn't believe she'd gathered this crowd in a matter of hours.

I was impressed, but I was also frustrated. In every chat I'd had with her over the past few weeks, I'd been clear I had no desire to be recognized.

I'd wanted a smaller private event without cameras where I could answer candid questions and the focus could be solely on the research. Heck, I'd even asked if we could have someone else present the research for me, but she'd brushed that off.

What had Carol said? This is a good way to establish trust with people by putting a face to your research and hard work.

When I'd fired back that I didn't need or want to be recognized for my work, I just wanted to help people, she'd merely smiled and put her hand on mine.

Ignoring my requests, she'd turned the announcement into a headline-grabbing event. Like it or not, I'd have to go through with it. My stomach churned, and I flattened my palm against it.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, but coughed as the acrid scent of smoke filled my nose. The thread pulling me toward my mate caused my heart to jerk, and a sense of dread settled over me.

Carol stepped to my side; her blonde hair and makeup were perfectly styled, a contrast to the messy bun I'd pulled my tangled purple mane into. At least the dark bruises under my eyes had vanished and my skin had a bit of color.

For a moment, I wondered if she was planning to go over my opening lines one more time before things got underway.

"You seem tense. Is there anything I can do to help put you at ease?" she asked in that calm voice I'd focused on during our previous interactions.

I might not always like what she said, but I did like how she said it.

Sniffing the air, I tried to figure out if I really was smelling smoke or if it was a weird side effect of the bite.

"Do you smell smoke?" I asked.

Her eyebrows drew together, and concern filled her brown eyes. "I don't smell anything burning. You're probably stressed and experiencing some stage jitters. Did you get any sleep last night? I've told you that you have to take care of yourself. You can't keep burning the candle at both ends."

Burning the candle at both ends? No, over the past few months, I'd practically lit the entire thing on fire and roasted marshmallows over it. Rest and self-care weren't high priorities when I could feel my life essence fading.

She flashed her brilliant white smile, but her calm demeanor did nothing to ease my worry. If anything, the tension within me escalated, gathering traction with every passing moment as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

My body was screaming at me to run before it was too late. Too late for what, though?

The overwhelming sense of foreboding was so powerful that sweat broke out across my forehead and darkness unfurled along the edges of my vision.

I wasn't experiencing stage fright, I was fighting full blown terror.

"You don't look so good." Carol's pretty face blurred.

Yeah, well, I didn't feel so good, either.

No matter how many times I tried to convince myself I was just experiencing nerves because I didn't like being the center of attention, I couldn't escape the clutches of my anxiety.

"I can get you a sick bag if you're going to throw up," she offered.

My pulse thundered in my throat and my lungs deflated, making it impossible to suck in a full breath. The acrid sting of smoke caused my throat to constrict painfully, and I began to cough.

Carol reached out and touched my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her words sounded distorted and far away, as if I was drowning and she was speaking from above the surface of the water.

"I… I can't breathe," I gasped.

This wasn't jitters or nerves. This felt like I was dying.

A tsunami of fear and sorrow rose above me, threatening to crush me beneath its overwhelming weight. Unable to stand it for another second, I rushed away, blindly searching for the exit.

I wished Beckett were there. He'd know how to calm me.

As I thought of the handsome alpha wolf, my fear intensified, and with an audible snap in my mind, I suddenly knew what was happening. My body, brain, and heart were warning me that Beckett was in danger.

My mate needed me.

"Lilou!" Carol yelled, her heels clicking as she chased me down a seemingly endless beige hallway.

"My assistant is in the crowd. She will give the presentation!" I shouted over my shoulder as I raced toward the exit.

"You can't leave!" she shrieked, her calm exterior cracking slightly as she realized her perfect press release wasn't going to go how she'd planned.

Additional footfalls echoed around me, warning me she wasn't the only one giving chase. Muffled voices were followed by a shocked yelp. I never slowed as I picked up my pace, leaving them behind me.

My lungs burned, my body ached, and my mind raced. Beckett was in trouble; I could feel it in my bones. Bursting out into the back alley, the terror clawed at my chest like a living thing seeking an escape.

I latched onto the desperate feeling. Beckett needed me, and I was going to do whatever it took to save him. I refused to let him die.

Pain tore through every inch of my being, and I opened my mouth to scream in agony, but no sound came from my throat. Blazing fire seemed to be burning beneath my skin, as though my blood had been turned to gasoline and someone had lit a match.

I could feel the thing unfurling within me, shifting my very DNA to make room for itself. Collapsing onto the ground, I curled into a ball and tried to stay conscious as my skin rippled and my heart stuttered.

When the pain finally vanished, I lay still with my eyes closed. A symphony of scents assaulted my nose, and I fought the urge to cover my ears as every sound in the city seemed to grow impossibly loud.

A cool breeze whipped down the alleyway, bringing with it the faint scent of fire.

Beckett.

Scrambling to my feet, I wobbled, then glanced down. My body turned to stone as I caught sight of two large gray paws.

I'd shifted.

That had been the cause of the pain. His words echoed in my mind. If I bite you and you turn, you'll die.

He was right. Wolves had unique DNA that allowed their bodies to accommodate the shift. Those who were cursed with the mutation had a trapped wolf inside them. If we shifted, releasing the inner beast, our human body was damaged beyond repair, becoming unstable.

Despite knowing I was still going to die, all I could think was how ticked off Beckett was going to be when he found out.

Well, then maybe he shouldn't have left me unattended. Last time that happened, I'd kidnapped an alpha, so we both knew I couldn't be trusted to make the best decisions.

I guessed the universe had seen fit to give me one last chance to do some good with my short life. Peace settled over me. My research was in good hands, and as long as I could save Beckett, I would accept my death gracefully.

I began to run, my movements wooden at first, but by the time I reached the end of the alley, I'd found my stride.

I soaked in every bit of information around me and focused on the thin sliver of invisible silk thread that tethered me to my mate.

Racing toward him, I became one with the wind. I rushed across busy roads, barely noticing the screeching tires and blaring horns. My paws thundered against the pavement as I darted between alleys and jumped fences as I made my way toward the center of my universe.

My mate.

My love.

Nothing else mattered but making sure he was safe.

By shifting, I'd condemned myself to almost certain death, but I couldn't think of any better way to repay him for caring for me through the last days of my research than to save him. A life for a life. It was fair.

I would have loved to listen as the world learned of the capabilities of the drug I'd developed and the doors of possibility it opened for future research. By building off my research, I suspected a cure could be developed for those who suffered from immune conditions caused by their body attacking itself. Hearing the gasps and murmur of excitement as medical history was forever changed was something I'd dreamed of for years.

My research had been the most important thing in my life. But that had changed.

The cure would save lives with or without me—that was kind of the point.

But it was Beckett who truly needed me.

I knew I'd made the right choice. It was the only one I could happily live—or die—with.