Chapter Twenty-Six

ASH

Ash bristled in shock at his beta’s suggestion. He couldn’t believe he was even hearing it. But deep down, he knew Luca was right, as much as the thought filled Ash with dread.

He had not explained it to Keyara—that it was possible for a wolf to be made and not born. He hadn’t even considered telling her, as it just wasn’t done.

It was forbidden among the civilized packs and had been for hundreds of years. The crude technique was usually only utilized by rogues attempting to increase their numbers to gain power.

The chance of survival for one who was turned was extremely low, and the process was grueling and painful.

~“I can’t do that, Luca, it’s forbidden. You know it is.”~

~“We will handle that if we have to, Alpha,” ~Luca replied.~ “You will have my support as your beta.”~

~“She won’t make it, she’s too weak. They hardly make it when they’re strong to begin with!”~ The despair was evident in Ash’s voice and seemed to have an effect on Luca.

~“Ash,”~ he said sternly, dropping the formality. “~She will die. If you do not do this, she will die. At least, this gives her a chance. Good luck, my friend.”~

Ash growled and paced in front of Keyara, swishing his tail in agitation, never taking his eyes off her. He considered what Luca had said, mulling over the risks in his mind, but knew he was running out of time.

He had to face it, it was his only chance. He couldn’t just let her die, not without trying. He had to do everything he could, even if he would be cast out of the pack for it.

He was willing to accept the consequences, as long as she lived. That would be enough.

Before he could change his mind, he strode to her with one large step, sinking his wolf teeth into her neck, over her mark. She squirmed slightly and let out a cry of pain, but she was too weak to fight him off.

He knew the process in theory; he only hoped he could carry it out correctly. He clamped his jaws tightly, deepening the wound.

When her blood was flowing freely into his mouth, he shifted back to his human form, leaving his teeth wolf-sharp.

He quickly pierced the skin of his wrist with his teeth, holding his arm over her neck, letting the blood dripping from his wrist soak into the wound.

He let it flow over her until the wound in his wrist began to heal, stopping the flow of blood. He hoped it was enough.

He ripped the bottom of her dress, holding the strip of fabric he had torn free to her neck, carefully cleaning away the excess blood.

He licked the puncture marks he had left behind, soothing and closing the wound, sealing in his blood.

He gathered her into his lap, leaning back against a tree, barely feeling the rough bark against his naked back. Her breathing was shallow, but her heart was still beating.

He sent a prayer up to the moon goddess that the bite would take, and she would pull through.

Now all he could do was wait.

He held her for the whole night and day, watching the stars cross the night sky and the sun slowly beginning to break over the horizon, maintaining a vigil with her wrapped in his arms.

He couldn’t risk moving her, her chances were already so dire.

He imagined what it would look like if someone stumbled upon them. What would they think, seeing the bodies of the dead men torn to pieces, a naked man holding a half-dead girl in his arms, both of them stained with blood?

Thankfully, it remained just the two of them in the woods. They were still within the border of Kodia, just barely, and there was little reason for anyone to travel into their territory.

He thought again about how he should have taken more precautions when he had scented the group of humans the day before, hating himself for his mistake.

If it cost him his mate, he would never forgive himself. Though he knew few even survived the loss of a mate.

Many went feral, attacking anyone and anything around them, often tearing themselves to bits in the process. Others simply gave up hope and joined their mates in death.

He had to prepare for the possibility of losing himself completely if she died, especially with a bond as strong as theirs.

He was glad at that moment for Luca. He knew the pack would be in good hands if the worst were to happen.

He focused on her shallow breathing and the weak beat of her heart, trying not to lose himself to his worry and despair. He pressed his face often into the top of her head, comforting himself with her scent.

He hummed softly to distract himself, a nonsensical lullaby he remembered from his childhood. He hoped the soothing sounds would reach her in the darkness and bring her back to him.

But instead she remained still and slack in his arms, the hours stacking against each other endlessly. Tears ran silently down his face as her breathing became weaker, and her skin grew cold and clammy.

Just when he had begun to give up the last remnants of hope, certain each weak beat of her heart would be the last, he felt her muscles move beneath his hands, rippling and tensing.

He shifted her slightly in his arms, pulling her dress away from the stab wound. It was closed, angry and red, but no longer bleeding.

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. They were through the worst of it; by some miracle, she had pulled through this far. The wolf blood had completely taken over her system, healing her wound.

It was far from over; she still had to survive the rest of the transition, but it was a good sign.

He picked up the lullaby once more, stroking her back, trying to ease her cramping muscles. Her heart became stronger, her breathing more pronounced, until he finally felt her move against him, groaning in pain.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes in joy.