The only plan he had been able to come up with was to become a permanent fixture in that room, and one that was never once threatening or frightening. He ate his meals in there, he showered in the en-suite bathroom when he needed to, and he slept in either the chair or the bed. He also ensured that he was the one who fed her and cleaned her cage—though she had to be tranquilized each time they needed to clean it. He would see to her every need, would make the wolf see that he could and would care for her.

Day three was also a bad day. The wolf jumped at every noise, every voice, every unexpected movement. It broke his heart to see her so frightened and anxious. He understood then why Jaime had been so compelled to sit with that little dog, Ben, in the sanctuary—that was all Dante wanted to do right now. Just sit with her and hold her, pet her, and comfort her. The problem was that each time he went near the crate, she attacked it. Answering his wolf’s desperate need to have contact with his mate, he had shifted forms. That hadn’t worked well. Her wolf had recognized him as her mate, but she didn’t associate him with safety or security, so she hadn’t wanted him close.

Days four, five, and six went pretty much the same way. Thankfully, Ivy and Riley had provided more tranquilizers so that he could keep knocking the wolf out whenever he needed to clean her cage. Both women had also asked to help care for her while she was in this state, claiming that they were experienced with traumatized animals. While that was true, he refused their offer. He wanted few scents in that room, and he wanted to be the one to heal her. He should be the one to heal her.

Day seven had been a truly bad day. She’d attacked the cage so hard that she’d cut open her paws. After giving her another tranquilizer shot, he and Grace had seen to the injuries. As soon as the wolf was aware and alert again, she’d torn off the bandages with her teeth and attacked the crate even harder than before. Still, Dante stuck to his plan of remaining with her and being the one who saw to all her needs. The problem was that whereas before she had more or less tolerated his presence, she was now angered by it rather than comforted.

The days began to blend and blur until, before he knew it, it had been another seven days and Jaime’s wolf was showing no signs of retreating. Agitated would be a mild word to describe how Dante was feeling. Occasionally he had snapped or shouted at the wolf, frustrated that none of his efforts were making her even slightly associate him with safety. Each time he snapped, her wolf would practically jump out of her skin and cower. And didn’t that make him feeling like a cruel son of a bitch.

As for Jaime…The truth that he hadn’t told anyone was that he couldn’t sense her very well anymore. He knew that she wasn’t weakening in spirit or admitting defeat. It was simply that her wolf’s state was so prevailing now that she practically drowned out Jaime. In short, she was truly at risk of turning rogue. His wolf was constantly fretting and anxious, which only made Dante’s mood worse. That was most likely why Shaya had encouraged him several times to go get some air or go for a run, but he wouldn’t leave his mate. He’d stuck to his plan so far, and he was going to continue sticking to it.

The trouble was that with each day that passed, he sensed Jaime that little bit less. A sense of defeat soon began to creep in and slither through him, tempting him to accept that she wasn’t coming back, that the wolf would soon turn rogue. There were times over the next week when he almost did, but then he would catch himself succumbing and would give himself a mental slap, praying that Jaime hadn’t sensed through their bond that he’d almost given up on her.

It was day twenty-three—or was it twenty-five? Dante wasn’t even sure anymore—when Trey came in the room for the first time. They had all agreed that since the Alpha had angered the black wolf by trying to dominate her, it might be better if he stayed away. Dante watched his mate, looking for her reaction to Trey’s presence. Nothing. She simply remained curled up in a ball, peering out of the cage through depressed, confused eyes that plucked at his heart. Some days she was like this.

Others she was a ball of fury. He never knew what he’d be dealing with when he woke in the morning. In either state, she was unreceptive to him and everybody else.

“Hey,” he said to Dante. “How’s she been today?”

“She’s been quiet, but she hasn’t eaten and she’s jumpy.” Even he could hear the hopelessness and fatigue in his voice.

Minutes of absolute silence passed before Trey spoke again. “Dante, maybe it would be kinder if—”

“No.” He’d known this was coming the second Trey entered the room. It had only been a matter of time before someone suggested it. Trey was the only one who ever would have done so, and for very personal reasons. While Dante understood those reasons, it didn’t ease his ire.

“Dante—”

“I said no.” His voice was barely controlled.

Trey sighed. “You’re not thinking of Jaime. Imagine how she’s feeling right now.”

“I don’t have to. I know how she’s feeling.” Well, on some days he did—just a little.

“I know what it’s like to be nothing but an observer while your wolf takes the front seat and does things you would never do. Sometimes I think that it’s how a ghost would feel, if there are such things. You can see and hear all these people you care about, you know everything that’s going on, but you can’t be part of any of it, you can’t talk to any of those people. You’re stuck. Trapped. Alone.

Helpless. Jaime’s been trapped like that for twenty-eight days now.” Twenty-eight? Huh. Longer than he’d thought.

“You told us that when this happened the first time, it was three weeks later that her wolf retreated. It’s been four weeks, and her wolf isn’t showing any signs of doing that, Dante. Unless her wolf’s state somehow improves, Jaime can’t push for the surface. It’s looking very unlikely that she’s going to be able to.”

“Jaime’s strong enough to do this,” he insisted. “I know she is.”

“Yes, she’s strong, but so is her wolf. She was even strong enough to ignore my order to back down. Her wolf has spent a long time all locked up, and instead of accepting that she was confined, she fought it. She didn’t stop fighting, and I don’t think she’ll stop fighting this either. Maybe it’s time to—”

“I can’t kill her, Trey. I won’t.”