45. Elisabed

45

Elisabed

I felt the weight of each step as we raced through the neutral town, the scent of August’s blood and the fury of his fight hanging in the air, choking me. My heart hammered in my chest, louder than my footsteps. Every breath I took felt too shallow, too rushed, as if I might not have enough air to find him. My thoughts kept spiraling back to the same question: what if I was too late? What if he was already—no, I couldn’t think like that. Not now. Not when he was still out there, somewhere.

Marshall and Finn flanked me as we moved through the streets, sniffing the air and following the trail of August’s scent. I caught flashes of fear in their eyes, but I didn’t have time to comfort them. The weight of their concern didn’t matter now. Only August did. Only him.

We passed houses, the occasional figure moving in the shadows, but no sign of August. We pressed on, quicker now, the scent growing stronger. My wolf clawed at my mind, urging me to push harder, to break into a sprint. But I knew better than to lose control like that—not when there was still a chance to find him alive.

When we reached the edge of the town, we turned into the trees. August’s scent was overwhelming now, mixed with the smell of pine and blood. I pushed through the underbrush, my feet light on the ground, my senses sharp. The world seemed to blur around me, everything narrowing down to that one scent.

We came to a clearing, and there he was.

August.

I froze for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. His body was crumpled against the earth, his blood staining the leaves beneath him. His chest rose and fell, but only just. His breaths were too shallow, too ragged.

I quickly shifted into my human form, barely even noticing it, then kneeled beside him and reached to cup his bloodied face in my hands. His skin was cold, and he didn’t respond when I called his name.

“Come on,” I said, gently shaking him. “You have to wake up. Please, August. Wake up. Don’t do this to me.”

I pressed my forehead against his, my eyes squeezing shut as I tried to hold back the tears.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” I said.

My fingers brushed the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse, anything. His heartbeat was weak, barely there, and my stomach twisted at the thought that he might be slipping away.

I was losing him.

“No,” I breathed. I felt the growl rise in my chest, the desperate need to protect him. My mind was a whirl of thoughts—of everything I hadn’t said or done. I was supposed to be there for him, to be the one to help him through all of this, but instead, I’d stayed on the sidelines, letting him push me away.

It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t lose him, not everything we had been through.

The others were beside me in an instant, shifting back into their human forms, their faces grim as they took in the sight of August’s near-death state. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at them. My entire world was August, and I couldn’t spare a moment for anything else. My gaze never left his face as Marshall and Finn quickly worked to lift him. My heart clenched at the sight of him so limp, so helpless. I wanted to scream, to beg the gods or the universe or whatever forces were at play to bring him back to me.

“Help me,” I said, my voice breaking as I stood. I stepped forward, pressing my body against his, offering my strength.

Marshall gave me a soft, understanding look as he and Finn worked to get August onto a makeshift stretcher they’d rigged from nearby branches. It was a poor substitute for the proper care he needed, but it was our only option. I helped them as much as I could, staying close to August, my hands never leaving his side.

I stayed by his side as they carried him. I kept talking to him, not knowing if he could hear me or not—just hoping.

Why did you do this to yourself?” I whispered. “You tried to push me away. But I’m not leaving, August.”

It was more than anger—it was fear, raw and ugly, and it clung to me like a second skin. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t. Not when I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell him that I—

I stopped myself. I couldn’t think about that now. I needed him to live. I needed him to come back to me. I couldn’t let him die.

The path to the healer’s place felt like it took an eternity. My every step seemed to drag me further from the safety of my heart, my desperate need to save him consuming me.

When we arrived at the healer’s small home, it was barricaded shut from the violence outside. I didn’t have it in me to explain the situation, so Marshall took over, and soon we were in the middle of a controlled chaos. It was a blur of activity. They moved quickly, but I didn’t care. I barely registered the other alphas’ instructions or the other patients we had to weave between until we found an empty bed. The healer’s professional touch was gentle but swift as she worked on August, and my whole world was him, lying there so fragile, so vulnerable.

“Please,” I said to the healer. “Don’t let him die. He can’t die.”

Her eyes flickered briefly over to me, but there was no time for reassurances. She was focused, her expression grim as she worked.

“He’s strong,” she said quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the noise in my head. “But even the strongest wolves can’t always pull through when they’re this far gone.”

I wanted to scream at her to stop talking like that. To stop implying that August might not make it. But I couldn’t. All I could do was stand there, my legs like lead, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

My other two alphas hovered at the door uneasily, but neither of them dared to come closer. They both knew this was my battle now, and they knew better than to interfere. They were outside, and I was inside with him. My world had shrunk down to this room, this quiet, tense space filled with nothing but the sound of the healer’s quiet murmurs and the thrum of my own heartbeat, frantic in my chest.

I kept talking to him, even though he couldn’t respond. I had to. I couldn’t let him think I was going to give up.

“I know you can hear me, August,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I know you can. So...fight. You can do this. Come back to me. Please.”

I barely noticed when the healer finished, her hands pulling away from his body, leaving him still as death on the bed. She let out a long sigh, and I felt my heart drop.

“I’ve done what I can for him. The rest is on him,” she said softly, her voice far too gentle.

Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw something there. Something sad, a recognition of the weight that hung between us.

Her eyes flickered over to where Marshall and Finn stood, silent and grim. I could see that neither of them wanted to disturb the moment, but they were ready to act if needed. Marshall gave me a subtle nod, and I barely registered it. I wasn’t even sure if I acknowledged them as I moved to sit beside August, my hand still lingering at his side.

“Is there any chance...” I started, my voice trembling as I dared to ask the question I feared most. “Will he wake up? Will he...”

The healer closed her eyes briefly before nodding, though it wasn’t a sure, confident gesture. She didn’t have the answer. None of us did.

“I can’t make promises,” she replied, shaking her head, her voice soft but firm. “He’s hanging on, but it’s up to him now. He has to choose to fight.”

My eyes locked on her face, the weight of her words sinking into me like a stone. This was all I had now—hope.

I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t.

Marshall and Finn finally spoke, but it felt like their voices were miles away.

“We’ll handle the council,” Marshall said, his tone steady despite the chaos outside. “We’ll make sure the town is safe. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Finn just nodded, his face a mask of frustration and grief, his eyes clouded with anger and something deeper.

The healer left the room, giving me one last glance before closing the door behind her. The room felt smaller without her. My breath grew shallow again, the silence wrapping around me like a suffocating weight.

Time passed slowly. Too slowly. I tried to keep myself occupied by speaking to him, even if it was just me speaking into the silence. I told him everything I’d never said to him, words I’d been too scared to voice before.

“You always try to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, August,” I muttered. “You need to learn to share the burden. You need to stop pushing me away. I can help you. If you’ll just come back to me, I’ll make sure you never have to do anything alone again.”

I wiped a tear away from my eyes before it could spill.

“I don’t get it. You’ve been so kind to me, telling me things I never expected, and then you just...push me away. Like you don’t even want me here. But I’m here now, August. And I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? I won’t leave you.”

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but there was nothing else. No sign of him waking. My heart felt like it was splintering with each passing minute.

What if he didn’t want to wake up? What if he was too tired, too broken to come back?

I couldn’t bear the thought. I clung to the idea that he would come back to me. I couldn’t lose him, not when everything we had yet to say and do still waited for us.

“I’m pregnant, August,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I’m carrying your pup. Our pup. And you still haven’t marked me, not for real. Not since that first time. Why haven’t you? You’re so damn stubborn.”

A sob caught in my throat, and I quickly wiped my eyes. I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t about appearances. It wasn’t about holding it together anymore.

“I’m so scared,” I admitted. “I’m scared you won’t wake up. I’m scared you don’t want to come back. And if you don’t...I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, my fingers brushing through his hair, trying to find some connection, some tether to hold onto. I couldn’t give up on him. I couldn’t lose him before we even had a chance to be together.

A day passed. Then two. The other alphas brought me food and told me to bathe, but I couldn’t leave him. A second away from him would have been too long.

Marshall and Finn brought news to the bedside when they paused between their duties. The casualties were limited, and neutral territory was back under control.

I barely processed the updates. I was focused only on August.

I felt like I was falling into madness. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I couldn’t stand the stillness, the ticking of the clock, the waiting. I wanted him to open his eyes. I wanted him to be okay. I wanted to hear him speak.

It was almost a week before I heard it.

“...Elisabed?”