Finally, his sibling’s body went lax beneath him. Dead.

A dark satisfaction flooded the wolf. But he didn’t take a moment to revel in victory. He needed to get to his mate.

He raced up the steps onto the porch and slammed his body at the door. Again. And again. And again. He heard his pack mates and allies howl as they came to join him. Finally, the door burst open. The wolf followed the sounds of a struggle. Bounded up the stairs.

More gunshots fired. The wolf kept vaulting up the staircase. He saw his mate. Saw the human “Ezra” straddling her. He was smashing something over her head over and over. The wolf heard the cracks, felt her pain, felt the darkness swallow her, and he slammed into the human with a furious growl.

The human screamed as the wolf savagely slashed and bit at him. The wolf did not stop. Not even when the human ceased screaming and the life left his body.

“Zander, I need you over here!”

The man inside the wolf battered at him, reminding him that his mate was in need. He fought for dominance, but the wolf refused to withdraw. He abandoned the dead human and padded to his mate’s side.

She lay very still. Eyes closed. Their connection was weak. Too weak. He licked at her face, trying to wake her. She did not move. Fear struck him hard.

He could feel and hear her heartbeat slowing. Could see and feel her breathing becoming shallower. The man within him was terrified and beating at the wolf, demanding him to withdraw. The wolf didn’t. He couldn’t leave his mate.

The human female who had raised his mate held her hand. “Ally’s gonna heal you, baby girl. Just hold on for us, okay?” She looked at the Seer. “Do what you can. Please. Don’t let her die.”

The Beta male spoke to the Seer. “Her head wounds are bad. He almost bashed in her fucking skull. Concentrate your healing energy there, Ally.”

The Seer looked at the wolf. “Zander, I need you to shift back. She’s barely hanging on here. You have to feed her your energy. I’m hurt and weak from healing other wounds—I’m not sure I can do this without your help.” Her voice cracked, sounding sad.

The words were foreign to the wolf, but he could see that the Seer was weak, could sense her panic, and knew what his mate needed. But the wolf couldn’t feed his mate his strength. Their bond was incomplete.

The man inside him was frantic, unsure of what to do. But the wolf wasn’t blinded by issues. Wasn’t knotted by emotions. He knew the problem. Knew he himself had held back from his mate out of fear. It shamed him. He pushed aside that fear now. It was easy, because he realized he feared being without her more than he feared the power she had over him.

Pain slammed into his head and chest. His vision darkened around the edges. As the pain faded, the man within him beat at the wolf so hard that the beast could fight him no longer.

Zander’s stomach bottomed out as he looked down at his mate. He felt the blood drain from his face. Felt an all-consuming terror wrap around his heart tight enough to stop it beating.

He knelt beside her, speechless. Blood poured from a wound on the side of her head, drenching and matting her hair. But even with all the blood, he could see that her skull had caved in. “Jesus. Shit. Holy fuck.” He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face. The panic within him swelled until his chest tightened and his lungs seemed to ache with the effort to breathe.

“Don’t go crazy on us, Zander,” said Bracken.

He couldn’t promise anything on that front. Rage and despair filled every part of him. He could feel Ally’s healing energy trickle through Gwen. Feel it soothe. But he didn’t feel it heal.

As Zander reached out to take Gwen’s hand, pain blasted through his shoulder. He’d forgotten his own injuries. They didn’t matter. He pushed the pain aside. It wasn’t important. She was important. Fixing the fucking skull that was caved in was important.

“Tell me you can heal that head wound, Ally,” he said, almost choking on the words. “Tell me you can do it.” Because he’d lose every bit of rationality left in him if she couldn’t make him that promise. He’d seen Ally heal many wounds, but nothing like that.

Ally licked her lips, nervous. “Honestly, I’ve never healed a wound that bad before.” Her voice shook. “That’s why I need you. Feed her energy.”

Squeezing Gwen’s hand, Zander shoved energy down their mating bond, too frantic to celebrate right then that it was finally fully formed. He fed her strength and bolstered the bond that was currently as fragile as she was. Her heartbeat was lazy and erratic. Her breathing was steady but so damn shallow that he wasn’t sure her lungs would keep working much longer.

The entire time, his pack mates and Yvonne alternated between whispering assurances to Zander and urging Gwen to hold on as they gathered around them. But the assurances didn’t work, because she didn’t seem to be healing. His raging wolf was in an absolute frenzy, clawing at Zander, demanding he do something.

Zander did all he could do—he kept on pushing energy down the mating bond, heart thudding in his chest, wishing he could do more. He did it over and over, until his head began to spin and darkness crept around his vision. He was weak from blood loss, but he couldn’t let that matter.

He’d never in his life felt fear like this. Hadn’t known such a level of hellish, incapacitating, debilitating terror existed. It flooded him. Choked him. Ate at him.

“You need to feed her strength, Zander,” Ally said urgently.

“I am,” he clipped. “It’s not making any fucking difference.” Every bit of energy he pumped into her seemed to fizzle out. The head wound didn’t seem to be improving, and her vitals were getting worse. At most, his and Ally’s efforts were keeping her alive . . . but only barely. The weaker Gwen got, the weaker the bond became. Right then, it was threadlike.

Zander was just as weak. He felt hollowed out, like he didn’t have much left to give. He suspected that the only thing keeping him conscious was the crazed terror that was like a band around his chest. “Why the fuck isn’t it working?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“There are some things that even a healer can’t fix,” said Derren, voice low.

Zander shook his head at the softly delivered warning. No. Gwen wasn’t going to fucking die.

A crying Yvonne shot Derren a hard look. “She’ll live.”

“I’m gonna fix it,” Ally insisted, sniffling. “I am. I can.”

Derren rubbed her back. “Baby, you’re wiped.”

Ally shook him off. “I can do it.”

Derren looked at Zander, his expression sympathetic. “If I wasn’t feeding Ally my strength, she’d be unconscious right now. She’s not going to last much longer.”

Ally blinked back tears. “If Gwen were a shifter, it would be easier—she’d have accelerated healing, and that would help the process. But she’s human, so she doesn’t. All we can do is keep trying.”

Zander felt as Gwen’s heartbeat stuttered weakly. Panicked, he pushed a large pulse of energy down the bond so fast that he swayed. Light-headed, he blinked. He couldn’t afford to pass out; she needed him. His wolf snapped his teeth at him, urging him to stay awake, to hold their mate to them.

“Jesus,” breathed Bracken.

Tracking his gaze, Zander stared. What the fuck? Three people stood a few feet away, their eyes dull and concerned. Which would have been fine if they weren’t partly transparent. He noticed then that their clothes and hairstyles were old-fashioned.