Page 61 of Finding His Fox

White-hot pain exploded through my body, and I let out a howl of agony and torment.

“Run, Mitchell,” I thought urgently.

Mitchell froze, unsure of what to do. The wendigo and I engaged in a fierce struggle, but I knew I was at a disadvantage. I could feel myself losing blood rapidly. I growled at Mitchell, urging him to flee, but the cub remained frozen in place.

Dread filled my heart. Was this the end? The final moments of my life? Not only had I failed Mitchell, but what about Nate?

Thoughts of my mate peacefully sleeping in my bed consumed me.

It was only a matter of time before this monster would come after him, too. Who would protect Nate if I was no longer there?

The thought ignited a final burst of strength within me, but I knew it wouldn’t last.

Suddenly, a howl pierced through the wind. Owen, in his fox form, emerged in the clearing, accompanied by four others.

Sensing its impending demise, the wendigo hurled me against a tree, and relief washed over me.

But before Owen and the others could strike, the wendigo quickly climbed a tree, swinging from one branch to another like a gorilla. It had managed to escape once again.

Dang it, I thought in frustration. I panted, exhausted and injured. Then, something small and furry crawled up next to me. It was Mitchell, who burrowed his tiny nose into my wounded side.

He whimpered, and I responded by giving his head a gentle lick. Mitchell was safe, and I was still alive. In that moment, that was all that mattered.

* * *

I couldn’t remember what happened next as I faded in and out of consciousness. It took me some time to realize that I wasn’t lying in my own bed.

Pain radiated from my lower body, and as I blinked my eyes open, I found myself in a room with clinical white walls.

The scent of antiseptic filled the air, making me wrinkle my nose.

Owen must have brought me to the clinic at the pack compound.

I tried to piece together the events that led me here, and slowly, the memories came back to me.

Attempting to sit up in bed proved to be futile as sharp twinges of pain shot through me, causing me to wince and pant.

Gritting my teeth, I focused on steadying my breathing.

Soon, Owen entered the room, accompanied by Nate. My mate looked exhausted, with a pale face and dark circles under his eyes. Nate tightly clutched a coffee mug against his chest. Had he stayed up all night?

“I called Nate right after we brought you to the clinic,” Owen explained.

Nate placed his mug on a nearby table. I made space for him in bed, but he opted to take the armchair instead.

Maybe he was worried that being too close to me would worsen my injuries.

Leaning forward, he reached for my hand, and I grasped his fingers. Nate smelled of caffeine, pine, and clean soap. Mine, I thought in wonder.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Owen said before leaving the room.

Even after Owen was gone, Nate remained silent, seemingly shell-shocked.

“Nate, I’m here. I’m fine,” I reassured him, using my most soothing voice.

“Yeah, but you could’ve died,” Nate whispered, his voice filled with concern. “I was so worried.”

“Hey, I’m alive, and these injuries? They’ll heal quickly,” I assured him.