2. Max

2

MAX

L ike a veil had been lifted, the quiet calm of the grounds disappeared the moment we stepped inside.

Chaos didn't even begin to describe the med center.

Sounds flooded me, cluttered and competing for my attention until they all just blurred into unintelligible noise.

"Fuck," Izzy muttered, her eyes wide as she took the place in. "You weren't kidding."

"Nope."

Compared to the high-tech labs and the med center at Headquarters, I wasn't sure this small log cabin could even be called such a thing. There were a handful of rooms, a cellar downstairs, and that was about it.

Beds were crowded and cluttered twenty to a room, packed tightly together like sardines. Most of the equipment was outdated, and the chorus of moans and screams from the patients locked in the terror of their trauma—both physical and mental—echoed on a constant loop. It was the soundtrack of nightmares.

Eli was already here, running from bed to bed, his arms covered in splotches of red, despite the crisp, clean latex gloves he changed between each patient. My eyes found him instantly, like they'd been searching him out the moment we'd stepped through the door—my body aware of his presence long before my mind.

A grunt pulled my attention in the opposite direction. "Thought I told you to stay home today."

Somehow, even surrounded by the agony and horror of the room, I smiled.

A small face, mapped with wrinkles, appeared at my side.

"Morning, Greta."

She grunted again, shaking her head with affectionate frustration. "Bentleys never have been much for listening, have they?" Her hand reached for Izzy's, giving it a small squeeze. "Good to see you again, Isadora. Though not at all surprised to find you here on your first day with amended clearance."

Izzy winked. "You too, you old bat. Put me to work today, okay? I've been bored senseless locked up in those rooms. It's nice to finally stretch my legs."

Finding out that Greta had been working at the Lodge for months was a downright gift from the gods. It wasn't entirely a surprise though. She'd always had a spark of rebellion about her and had bent the rules of The Guild from the very moment I met her. Maybe that was why I'd taken an instant liking to her.

She had a way with patients, her personality and bedside manner molding to whatever each person responded best to, what they needed. Without her help, we would have lost dozens of those we brought back here from The Guild. Something about her presence was like a balm for the soul.

She snorted but walked off without complaint. I was never able to get more than a sentence or two at a time from her. She was spread too thin. Even with all the volunteers in here, it wasn't enough. "Heard you got clearance to check on Seamus this morning. Charlie's down there now," she called back, her voice nearly swallowed by the chaos of the room. She nodded to the end of the hall where I knew a heavy, metal door was sitting. It wasn't enough to keep me out, but I'd done my best to honor their wishes here, to stay out of their way as long as I could. "Bring Eli with you. The kid's going to fall over if he doesn't take a break. And he listens to me about as well as you do."

"You're one to talk," I muttered, receiving nothing but a loud, cracked chortle in response.

Greta wasn't exactly a spry young thing—she'd retired twice over already—and I was fairly certain she didn't sleep. Like, at all. Still, she seemed to have more energy and stamina than the rest of us combined. If she kept up her current pace though, she was going to burn herself out.

I'd need to get her full story one of these days. I had a feeling it was a captivating one—but there hadn't been much time for friendly conversation since I'd found myself on The Lodge's front steps. Other than the look in her eyes when she'd first found me here, the warm hug that had me melting into a puddle of tears, her condolences pressed into me without a word, we'd hardly had time to truly reconnect.

Eli's dark gaze replaced hers as he wrapped me into his own tight, warm hug. His nose pressed into the curve of my neck as he took a slow, deep breath. My skin tingled where it met his. I felt him relax against me, the tension lining his body softening just a touch.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling away and sparing a brief glance to my left before his eyes found mine again. "Good to see you, Izzy. Welcome to the shit show. I hope you have a strong stomach."

She arched a brow, surveying the room. "I've seen worse."

A soft grin tugged at his mouth as he pulled me against him until our sides lined up, glued together.

I didn't fight it. My body craved his, just, I imagined, as his craved mine. And despite living in the same small cabin and working together here, we hadn't had much time to simply exist with each other.

We spent all of our days here in this small wooden box, tending to patients and helping Greta, and most of my nights were spent hovering over Atlas, trying to help him find his way back to himself—back to us.

Was it weird to miss someone I technically spent most of my time with? Because I did.

The small grin faded from his face as his eyes found mine. "Ready?"

I nodded, grabbing his hand and giving it a soft squeeze.

Eli saw his father every day, but I knew that each visit stabbed at him.

"Hi Max." A small mousy girl emerged behind Izzy, her expression hesitant as she studied my best friend. We weren't sure how old she was—no more than nine or ten, most likely—or what exactly she'd been through, but it took her a while to warm up to strangers.

For a vampire, she was incredibly timid.

I smiled at her. "Hi Ellie. This is my friend Izzy. Without her, we would have never gotten everyone out of The Guild labs. She could use your help and expertise today; think you can show her the ropes?"

Ellie's posture straightened, her expression growing both serious and eager with the promise of an important task. She'd been released from the med ward a few days ago, but she didn't seem to have any family or friends here. None that were conscious anyway. And she still didn't trust us enough to give up many details about her life.

Instead of claiming one of the free rooms in the resort, she asked to stay at the med ward, insisting on helping everyone here. Most of the vampires wanted out of this building as soon as possible, what with all the blood around, but Ellie seemed largely unbothered.

She was too young to be of much use with the medical side of things, but she'd grown fond of reading stories to the patients who got restless and fetching things for Greta and the others.

"Nice to meet you, Ellie." Izzy extended her hand to the girl. "Where should we get started, boss?"

Ellie's eyes widened, brimming with admiration and the first spark of excitement I'd seen from her since she arrived. She grabbed Izzy's hand and led her towards one of the supply trays.

"I'll catch you guys later," Izzy called back with a wink. "I think Ellie and I have things handled here for now."

Izzy didn't have a ton of healing experience, but she'd do whatever she could here, offer as much of her assistance to the people who did have training. It was her first day of freedom outside of her containment, and I wasn't even remotely surprised that she'd dedicate it to helping out until she fell over with exhaustion.

Eli pulled off his gloves and I followed him over to the sink to wash our hands in silence, the heaviness of our next stop settling around us both.

"Can we stop by Sarah's room first?" I bit my lip, trying my best to ignore the ball of fear already forming in my gut at the mere mention of her name.

"Of course we can." Eli's thumb pressed gently on my bottom lip, releasing it from my teeth. He lingered there a moment longer, stroking the soft, sensitive skin. "But don't get your hopes up. There haven't been any changes since yesterday."

I nodded, blinking back the film of frustrated tears clouding my vision.

Leading the way, I carved us a path through the various hospital beds, winding down the hall until I got to the familiar wooden door. My stomach gripped at the sight of it, my body long familiar with the hours of failed attempts at healing I'd wasted in here.

I knocked softly, but I knew there was no point. Sarah wouldn't answer—or even respond to the sound.

Trying not to startle her, I opened the door slowly. This was the only relatively empty room in the med center. Other than Sarah, there were only two other people in this room.

Two days ago, there had been three.

I did my best not to wonder if there had been more locked in The Guild labs, prisoners trapped in the dark recesses of their own minds.

I was able to call to Atlas, to heal him enough to startle him awake and, together, we brought Sarah back with the rest. But in the darkest parts of the night, when I woke up trembling from my own nightmares, I couldn't stop my thoughts from lingering on the possibility that there had been more than the other three we'd found—shattered by the drude's power, fighting their way back to the surface.

An ache, deep and angry pulsed in my chest.

"There weren't any others," Eli said, his hand rubbing comforting circles on my back. I hadn't realized I'd spoken the fear aloud. "Darius cleared the cells. There was only Sarah, Atlas, and the other three. Any others who were down there had already met their death from the Nightmare, not your fire."

And now one of those three was gone.

I sniffed, wiped a stray tear from my cheek, and nodded before I walked over to Sarah's bed.

Not her.

I refused to let her meet that same fate. Atlas, Wade, Dec—they'd lost too many people already. I couldn't let them lose her.

Plus, a small part of me wondered if, when I was gone, when the ritual was completed, they might be able to bond with her again—their original team reformed and whole. As much as the thought cut through my chest like a knife, the possibility that I wouldn't leave behind total desolation, that they'd have the chance for happiness again, soothed some of the weight on my shoulders.

So, unsurprisingly perhaps, this room was where I'd devoted most of my time and healing work. Still, I'd made very little progress.

These were the only injuries we weren't sure how to heal.

The paralysis poison from the wendigo-like creatures would disperse with time, and Greta and some of the others here had been trained in the med wards at The Guild.

While she wasn't familiar with every injury and torture the lab had applied in their recent months of desperation—she'd never spent much time with the prisoners of The Guild, her work had mostly been healing protectors who'd been attacked—she was able to ease most of the demons' pain and symptoms.

Most of it was a waiting game, however. Demons and protectors were strong—time healed most things that could actually be healed.

But not those afflicted with Sarah's torment.

Druden—Nightmares as they were also called—were uncharted territory for us all. So far Atlas was the only one who'd healed, and even then, I don't know that I could really call him healed.

He wasn't like the patients here, but he wasn't like himself either.

I shoved my worry for him to the back of my mind. I'd make sure to check up on him this afternoon. If I let myself linger too long on his pain—a hollow, deep presence I could feel echoing inside of my own chest—I'd be of no use to anyone.

Sarah wasn't on her bed. Instead, as she'd been each morning when I'd arrived, she was huddled in on herself, pressed into the corner of the room. Her dark hair fell in limp waves over her arms and knees, several strands caught in her eyelashes. She didn't even have enough awareness to notice the nuisance.

Vacant blue eyes met mine.

With careful fingers, I cleared the stray hairs from her face. She didn't flinch from my touch.

She didn't react at all.

I set one palm against the side of her head, the other just under her collarbone.

I didn't know Sarah particularly well, and my power always worked better the deeper my connection to whoever I was trying to heal.

Outside of the bonds, Ro was the only person I'd been able to actually successfully heal—my connection to him being ironclad. But even then, I'd almost died from the exertion.

Still, I had to try.

Closing my eyes, I reached for Sarah in my mind, visualizing an invisible tether, not yet formed, trying to filter the few memories I had of her into it. My power flared, tingling in my skin, but it was listless and erratic, like it was unsure of where to go—or how to get there.

It was a feeling I was growing familiar with. One that sparked anger deep in my gut.

My teeth ground together as I tried—and failed—to swallow the frustration. I was useless against this darkness shrouding her. It was like trying to catch smoke in my hands.

I hated feeling useless. Hated knowing that Sarah was locked in this battle by herself and none of us could figure out how to reach her. How to save her.

Eli pressed in against my back, his fingers lightly touching my shoulder. I knew my healing powers wouldn't hurt him, but the brief possibility that they might pulsed through me all the same.

As if sensing my resistance, he doubled down and pressed his other hand to my other shoulder, his presence sturdy and strong as he worked out the tension in my muscles.

It took me a few minutes to notice, but slowly, I felt the invisible thread I'd conjured connecting me to Sarah—like, actually felt it. Not just imagined it like I had been for days. It was as tangible as any intangible thing could be.

A sharp breath pulled from my lips as I clung to it, trying desperately to shape and strengthen it, but it was like trying to shape a shadow without any light.

Still, it was something. More than I'd had any other time I'd tried to help her.

Eyes pressed shut, tight and eager, I called on what I'd learned about healing from Khalida—and, later, from Lucifer and Sam.

It was fractured and awkward, and something about my power couldn't quite locate the pulse of Sarah's, but I fought for collision all the same.

I opened my eyes and found hers locked on mine. They still looked vacant, not entirely recognizable as belonging to the girl I'd briefly known, but I had the distinct feeling that she was actually looking at me for the first time since we'd rescued her, rather than through me.

A breathy laugh of excitement pulled from my lips as I doubled down and pushed as much of my energy into her as I possibly could. I felt Eli's presence radiating over us both, infusing me with his quiet strength.

"Max," he whispered, but I barely heard it.

The brief flare of recognition I'd seen in Sarah's eyes was gone, and a wave of frustration with myself threatened to drown me.

I fought to cling to the thread of power, but it was fading .

"Max, that's too much."

My fingers tensed around Sarah, like they were searching for purchase, for other entry points.

"Max."

This time, there was a note of pain in Eli's voice, and I stumbled back. His hands weren't at my shoulders anymore—they were clutching his head, his face contorted in pain as he took deep, heaving breaths.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I crawled towards him, pulling his hands away and replacing them with my own. Had I somehow pulled energy from him? "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did. I wasn't thinking."

Finding the thread tying me to Eli took almost no time at all. It was strong and thick and as familiar to me as my hand.

"No, don't—I'm okay."

I ignored his protests, healing him quickly. I hadn't taken too much strength from him, and healing Eli from something so small came with an absurd ease when compared to my ragged attempts to heal Sarah.

The muscles in his face loosened. "Thanks, you didn't have to?—"

"Eli, shut up. This is nothing. I'm sorry. I didn't realize what I was doing—sometimes healing puts me in a weird sort of trance." When I accessed that power, all I could think about was helping the other person, all self-preservation gone, every atom of my body ready to surrender for the cause if needed. Khalida had warned me of it—the power that came with healing others was addictive and all-consuming. Difficult to control. You lost yourself in it.

I stood up, pulling him with me, as I turned back to Sarah. I studied her for a long moment, searching for the small spark, but finding the same blankness I'd tried to fight all week.

Had I imagined it?

"There you are, Max." Charlie stood in the doorway. Her lips pressed into a grim sort of grin—the smile unable to quite reach her eyes under the weight of everything she was dealing with. She turned to Eli and nodded. "Eli. I'm sorry I haven't been available to either of you for a few days. Things have been—" she scrunched her nose, "hectic, to say the least. As I'm sure you've both noticed."

Charlie was one of the leaders here. She'd welcomed us in—along with everyone else who'd been ostracized by The Guild or the outside world, whether demon, protector, or human. Charlie was mostly the latter, though she had some protector ancestry. Her partner, Bishop, was ex-Guild.

And apparently Atlas's cousin—long assumed dead. Small world.

I didn't know either of them particularly well, but they'd treated us with respect and kindness, even knowing that we were keeping secrets from them. That counted for a lot. Especially when The Guild operated on a platform of distrust.

"Good to see you, Charlie," I said and, surprisingly, I meant it.

We didn't know the people here well—Eli and I especially. We hadn't had the time here that Darius, Declan, Wade, and Ro had while we'd been briefly locked in hell.

Even so, I couldn't shake the innate trust that Charlie and those she surrounded herself with seemed to inspire and demand from me. There was something about her that called out to me, a kinship that I felt deep in my bones, even if it didn't make much sense from a logical standpoint. Trust was an expensive commodity these days.

But if I'd learned anything over the last few months, it was that I needed to trust my intuition.

"I heard you were going to see Seamus today. Thought I'd swing by and say hi, see how you were doing before I get on with the rest of my morning tasks, walk you down." She turned to Eli, compassion almost leaking from her pores. "Greta says you've both been helping tremendously in the med center this last week, we really appreciate it."

His fingers twitched in mine, and I knew he was uncomfortable under her praise. "Least we can do."

Charlie and Bishop had taken in everyone who'd followed us here. Bishop was protective of this place, understandably, and had instituted a rigorous vetting and acclimation process for the new recruits—they needed to make sure everyone who was here wanted to be here and understood the rules, the magic of this small community. The need to keep it, and the people here, safe.

But even through his surly facade, they'd also used all of the resources at their disposal to help everyone who needed medical attention, treating them all with the same attention and care they bestowed on their regulars here—without even questioning the utility or cost of it.

There'd been a few fights I'd heard about over the week, a vampire attacking another, a few protectors lashing out as well, caught between disgust and mourning over what they'd learned about The Guild.

Unlearning was a difficult thing. And they'd been indoctrinated in Guild practices and beliefs their entire life. It wasn't easy recognizing how many of those beliefs were built on lies. History was a fragile concept when you started to interrogate who penned it.

But it would all be worth it, all work out. I hoped, anyway.

The goal was, as Charlie had explained it, that this community could create a space for that unlearning—a space for people to come together and grow stronger through shared goals and values.

Even a trickle of hope could wield uncompromising power and strength, if given the chance to spark and grow.

Charlie nodded and turned out of Sarah's room, signaling for us to follow .

Without further preamble, Eli and I did just that. She unlocked the padlocked door at the end of the hall—the tech here wasn't nearly as advanced as what we were used to at The Guild. The lock wouldn't keep many people here out, it was a signal more than anything. But everyone honored the rules, trusting that, unlike The Guild, the people here were doing their best to keep everyone safe.

And from what I understood of Seamus's situation, these provisions were more for our safety than his.

The door opened into a dark stairwell that we descended in silence, until Charlie stopped at the base where another locked door stood. A single lightbulb lit the area, the glow of light warm and faint, highlighting the dust particles that floated in the air around us.

She turned around, her dark eyes latching onto mine. There was a spark of knowing there that I couldn't quite name, a sadness that burrowed deep into my bones. "I assume that Eli's been keeping you updated on him?" She grunted. "To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't break in here this week. Not like we could truly keep you out, even if we used every tool at our disposal to try. But I appreciate that you've been abiding by our protocol, as tedious as it may seem sometimes."

I nodded, leaning into Eli at my back. "I recognize that I've thrown a wrench into a lot of your plans here—created a lot of work and rushed things along at a pace that probably none of us were prepared for. But I'm trying to honor your rules and requests as best as I can, when I can."

She tilted her head, studying me, the smirk softening into something kinder, but still clouded over by a pervasive exhaustion.

"And as for Seamus," I tightened my grip on Eli's hand, "I'm up to date, yes."

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to be updated on.

Seamus was a werewolf now, but due to his age and the severity and location of the bite, he was not handling the transition particularly well. More than that, there seemed to be something different about the wolf that bit him—and no one had any ideas or explanations as to what that difference was.

"I was just visiting with him. His memory," Charlie took a deep breath, her gaze cutting briefly to the thick door behind her before she turned back to Eli and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't even imagine—that must be very difficult for you."

"Better faulty memory than dead." Eli's voice was hard, but not unkind.

"Yes, well, Levi has been taking good care of him. He's in there now and has offered to guard during your visit today while Tex and Bishop tend elsewhere," she said. Eli stiffened next to me, his tension slicing into me. "I know you both can protect yourselves, but sometimes that's more difficult when it's your own family that you need protection from. Seamus has been a little—" her eyes narrowed as she searched for a word, finally settling on "volatile."

Eli's hand gripped mine. He'd been visiting Seamus every day, in the brief stretches that he was permitted, and each time he'd emerged from this stairwell, he'd looked a little more fractured, the pain echoing deep inside of me.

I'd found scratches carved into his side, noticed a few discarded shirts that had blood belonging to him. But he never spoke the words out loud—that Seamus had attacked him.

Of course, Darius knew for sure—his body often mirroring the strikes against Eli, thanks to the blood bond. Surprisingly, he never called attention to it, never complained or even said a word. He'd just look at Eli with unspoken compassion—their bond shaping into something surprisingly tender, given all of their bickering.

"I should be going though. I want to check in with Greta again before lunch, see what orders she needs sent out. I know we're low on a lot of supplies. I'm hoping we can send a team out for a run, now that things are settling down a bit."

I bit back a grin at the sarcasm that lifted her voice at the end of that sentence. I wasn't sure things would settle down here for a very long while. Maybe ever again.

With a soft smile and sympathetic glance at Eli, she left us there, waiting outside of the door.

I didn't rush Eli.

Instead, I turned around and looked up. He was always taller than me, but I had to really crane with him on a step above mine. I cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth—one he met me halfway for. Amber eyes swallowed my focus as he studied me—open and vulnerable in a way that I'd only seen him a handful of times.

My heart skipped in my chest, and I tried desperately to resist the urge to kiss him again, this time with more heat. It had been a while since we'd last been together in that way, and I could feel my body hunger for him—could feel that hunger mirrored in him too.

Something had shifted irrevocably between us in hell—an openness, a trust. It's what allowed the bond to fully shape, and it was growing stronger every day—more solid, unwavering.

We'd wasted too much time hiding ourselves from each other, resisting the obvious connection between us. Now that those barriers were demolished, I wanted nothing more than to be consumed by him.

The heat in his eyes flared, the tension in the dim stairwell teetering on the edge. My stomach was tight, my breath quick.

I took a step back as he cleared his throat.

Later.

Seamus was waiting for us.

As was Levi.

I rapped my knuckles against the cool metal door, but the hinges creaked before I could repeat the gesture .

A soft glow of light washed over us as Levi stood before us.

Dark gray eyes locked on mine, the usual dark, mischievous gleam present in their depths, if clouded slightly by concern. "Max, good to see you again. Eli." His eyes didn't move from mine, like he was searching for something there. A chill ran up my spine at his perusal.

There was something strange about Levi, uncanny almost. In many ways, he reminded me of Eli—they both had a flair for arrogance, a desire to soften discomfort with teasing.

The same mouth.

But there was something else even more disconcerting about Levi, hard to place. A coldness that Eli didn't share, something almost feral—dangerous—buried deep.

I dropped the intense eye contact, trying to see into the room. Levi, unhelpful as ever, seemed unconcerned about stepping out of the way to let us through the doorway. "How's Seamus?"

"And why are you the one watching him?" Eli's tone was clipped with ill-disguised anger. He took a step down until he was pressed against my side. "I highly doubt he wants you here."

I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand.

Eli and Levi's relationship was a deeply fraught one. I had no idea if they'd ever find a path towards mending it, but now wasn't the time to lean into the inevitable explosion either.

Family trauma never really stayed truly buried, but hopefully they'd find a way to push it to the side with everything going on. They had no choice but to trust each other, to work together as well as they could.

Levi's eyes narrowed, but his focus was still on me. "Actually, wolfy Seamus seems to like me quite a bit. I'm one of the few who seems able to calm him. I'm here most days, whenever?— "

The rest of the sentence was swallowed into silence, but we all knew the conclusion—whenever Eli wasn't around.

Eli definitely seemed to hate his brother, or what he represented to him at least, but Levi's commitment to keep his distance took a different shape.

The muscle in Eli's jaw twitched. If he clenched it any tighter, he'd crack a tooth.

I pressed my palm to Eli's chest while I sent a glare at his half-brother. "Enough of the baiting. None of us have the time or the energy for this shit. Let us in, Levi."

His lip twitched briefly into a grin, eyes narrowing on me for a long breath, but then he stepped to the side.

The room opened into a small cellar with dusty wine bottles lining one of the walls.

Seamus stood chained in the back corner, the thick metal rings around his ankles bolted deep into the concrete floor.

He was naked, likely from the constant warring with his wolf, shifting between bodies several times a day. The wound where he'd been bitten was still not healed all the way—it looked infected and deep. I kept my eyes on his face, noticing the dark lines of exhaustion creasing his eyes, the sweat coating his forehead. His breathing was ragged, his expression drawn in pain.

My chest squeezed at the sight of him, at the clear torment in his normally kind, gentle eyes.

"Hi, Dad." Eli took a few steps into the room. He stopped just out of reach of the chain's give.

Seamus's eyes narrowed and my stomach clenched at how much they reminded me of Cy's in that moment. "Eli?" His gaze cut to me. "Max? How are you? It's been months."

"I'm doing okay, all things considered." I didn't bother asking him how he was. The tension and pain were marked clearly in his posture, in every muscle twitch, in every line of his body .

"And Cyrus? Where is he? I thought he'd make his way down to see me by now?" He grunted, the sound caught between a strangled laugh and a moan of pain. "Stubborn prick."

My breath caught in my chest as Cy's name pierced through me like a spear. Eli and the others had warned me that Seamus's memory was unpredictable—sometimes he'd forget the last few days, sometimes he didn't seem to even remember who he was.

"He'll be here soon," Eli said, wincing slightly as he turned to me in apology.

I understood. There was no use putting Seamus through a grief that he wouldn't remember. If, when the war in his mind and body settled down a bit, he still didn't remember all that had happened, we'd tell him then. Right now, it was kinder to let him imagine his brother stomping around upstairs and raising hell.

As if a switch had been flipped, Seamus's face warped into something sharper, angrier. His brows furrowed as he glanced around the room, like he suddenly didn't recognize where he was.

"Unlock me." He turned to Eli, eyes fierce, hints of the soldier shining through. "Don't just stand there, boy. We haven't time for this. Get me out of here, they're coming." The chains rattled at his feet. I noticed a few scattered pieces of wood surrounding him—the relics of what was probably once a chair.

The violence of his pain was mapped across the cellar clear as day when I knew to look for it. Blood caked the ground in dark patches. Gouges had been dug out of the floor, lined with red vestiges from where his nails had peeled back, his blood soaked into the floor.

His body was battered and bruised—a surprising thing to see in a protector, but even more so in a wolf. I wasn't sure if these were new markings and injuries or if he just wasn't healing as quickly as we'd expected, beyond the bite.

"Now!" Seamus's teeth elongated, his dark eyes flashing bright with swirls of yellow and thick black ropes. Those eyes locked on me, the familiarity warped and angry. "You. You did this."

The metal of his chains clanged in vicious strikes, echoing around the room with his snarls.

"Fuck." Eli stepped in front of me, shoving me back a few feet. "Dad, you're okay. It's okay."

But by the tremor in his voice, I knew that even Eli didn't believe these words.

Strings of spit flew from Seamus's mouth as he screamed, the sound more animal than human.

Deep circles of red cut into his ankles as he strained against his restraints, his skin peeling back as it tore. Bones bent and broke at angry angles, skin and fur warring for real estate they couldn't both share.

My eyes watered as Seamus screamed in rage, in pain—the agony of the shift violent and loud.

"Dad," Eli held his hands up to his father, took a step closer. "It's okay, you're okay. Breathe with me, okay? One big breath in."

But he was too far gone, barreling on a path of pain that Eli couldn't reach.

Seamus's response was an ear-splitting scream-turned-roar as he lunged for his son. Any flash of recognition he'd had before now was eclipsed by a violent desire to tear his own flesh and blood to pieces.

The skin around his ankles ripped to shreds, peeling back even more as he used the force of his weight to free himself. It was enough to crack the bone, but I doubted he noticed it much anyway when his entire body was breaking and contorting, limbs elongating and shrinking, caught and confused in the shift.

I spun around to Levi, whose face was in shadow as he studied Seamus—half horror, half curiosity. "Is it always this bad?"

Levi shook his head, as Eli grunted out a soft, "No."

Levi's eyes widened as he took a step forward and reached for me. "Max, look out."

Eli fell back on his ass as Seamus ripped his chains free. "Holy fuck."

Seamus's feet were broken and bloody, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead, he lunged towards us, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid animal.

I shoved Levi off of me and jumped in front of Eli, conjuring a ring of hellfire around Seamus in one fluid movement. I had more control now and knew that I could keep the fire contained without burning anything too badly.

His eyes rippled, reflecting the crackling flames. For a moment, it looked like he might try to jump through them, but something about the shock pulled him out of it, woke him up.

The bright light from the fire highlighted the contusions and bruises along his body until it hurt to look at him. I narrowed my eyes and took a step closer to him, my face nearly touching the flames.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Levi's voice was hollow and low, dimmed by the low roar of the flames licking against my skin.

"Max, get away from him." I felt Eli at my back, his presence solid and unwavering as my flames shielded him.

My focus was drawn to the veins on Seamus's forearm—black, like ink, and rippling as if alive.

It was similar to what I'd seen in The Guild labs, identical to the magical energy moving underneath the council member's skin before he disappeared from sight .

"Is that—" I glanced up at Seamus's face, his eyes blown wide with horror at what he'd done. He took a few steps back, panting as he watched me, shame etched into every line of his face. I pulled the fire back, just as it would have swallowed his leg. The room grew dark and quiet without it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Seamus repeated the phrase like a prayer, his body trembling as it shifted and locked back into his human form. "Please just kill me, just kill me, just kill me?—"

His pleas echoed, ragged and anguished around the room.

I took a few steps closer to him, no longer afraid of what he might do to me, but I could no longer see the dark lines threading underneath the clammy smooth casing of his skin.

"Max, careful." Eli's arm pressed against mine, his blade hanging limp at his side. A small tremor ran through him before his body shifted into a fighting stance.

Seamus fell back on his butt, scurrying away from us like a crab. "Max? Who's Max?" His focus flung to Eli. "And you? Who are you?" Panicked breaths lifted in his chest in short, uneven gasps. "Where's Levi? Levi—do it, just do it. Plea?—"

A low whistle flew past us, a dart landing deep into Seamus's arm. An almost smile pulled across his face, as his body relaxed, then fell into a slumber. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard him mumble a breathy "Thank you," before his eyes rolled back in his head and he stopped moving altogether.

Eli's fingers tightened over his blade as he spun around. In one swift motion, he had Levi pinned to the wall. A bottle of wine crashed at their feet, bathing the floor in another layer of crimson. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

Levi arched a brow but made no move to resist or engage with him. "What had to be done. When the confusion settles in, he panics, and then the shifts start pulsing through him. That back and forth—it exhausts him. It's literal torture—beyond what you can even imagine. The meds are the only way to help him rest." He shook his head, lips turned down in a soft frown, completely unconcerned that Eli had a blade pressed to his carotid. "I've never seen him that bad though. I don't know what triggered it, or if this is just the next stage. I've seen feral wolves before, but this is something else—something new."

The next stage?

My stomach tightened and it took everything I had to hold back the urge to vomit.

Fucking hell.

I knelt by Seamus, repositioning his arms and legs in a more comfortable posture. It was probably irrelevant, silly even, to fret over such a small comfort. The man had broken every bone in his body, over and over again—had willingly obliterated his ankles and feet trying to gain his freedom. A bit of stiffness from an awkward nap was the least of his worries. Still, it was the only thing I could help with.

I was sick of feeling useless, didn't know what to do with the jittering fear coursing through my blood.

I felt Levi's gaze on me, studying me and peeling back my layers in that way of his.

"You have very good control over those flames. That was impressive." He snorted, turning back to Eli. "Far better than your firework show, eh, brother?"

Eli stiffened, his blade drawing a small drop of blood from Levi.

Levi didn't seem to notice. Instead, eyes wide, he shook his head, oblivious to the fact that he was making the cut worse. "You haven't told her, have you?"

I closed the distance between us and put my hand on Eli's bicep, silently asking him to release Levi.

He dropped the blade but kept him pinned. He wouldn't meet my eyes. Instead, he glared at his brother with enough venom to make even me wither from the sight.

The two of them were locked in a silent conversation— though conversation might have been a generous word for it—the muscle in Eli's jaw ticking with fury.

"Eli, what's going on?"

Levi arched his brow, looking partially intrigued, partially annoyed. "You really haven't told her? Why the fuck not?" His mouth curved like a scythe. "Don't want your girlfriend to know that you're stealing her powers? That you nearly burned the place down during one of your temper tantrums?"

Eli's arm drew back before I could stop him, his fist pounding into his brother's jaw with a vicious, resounding crack.