Page 28

"Agreed." He pulls me close one more time, brief and fierce, before straightening with renewed focus toward whatever comes next. "The evacuation's mostly complete. Everett wants remaining teams converging near the den, consolidating our position before Cross's people push any further."

We move together through the storm, hand in hand despite the driving rain, and somewhere ahead of us the true confrontation with Cross's operation waits, patient and dangerous despite the chaos surrounding it. Whatever comes next, I understand that facing it separated from Kellan was never actually an option, not for either of us.

We're in this together, all the way through, storm and danger and whatever Cross still has planned before this fight finally ends.

26

KELLAN

The consolidation toward the den goes wrong within minutes of Everett's order, three of Cross's teams converging on our position faster than our scattered scouts can warn us, using the storm's cover exactly the way I feared they would. I hear the first contact over radio, static-broken shouting from Grady's team near the eastern approach, and understand immediately that whatever Cross intended by moving during this storm, it's happening now, faster and more aggressive than our misdirection campaign ever accounted for.

"They're pushing through the eastern perimeter," I tell Zoey, already moving toward the sound of the confrontation. "I need you to get to the den, stay with Everett and the noncombatants."

"Kellan—"

"Please. I need to know you're somewhere protected while I handle this." I press a fast, hard kiss to her forehead, already turning toward the fight. "I'll find you after. I promise."

I don't wait for her response, sprinting through rain that's turned the forest floor to treacherous mud, following the sound of shouting and the sharper crack of gunfire that confirms this has moved well past simple surveillance. I reach Grady's position to find three operatives pushing hard against a defensive line that's barely holding, pack members forced to stay in human form to avoid the exact confirmation Cross is hunting for, fighting with hands and improvised weapons instead of the strength that would end this in seconds.

I don't have that luxury of restraint anymore, not with pack members' lives directly threatened. I let the shift take me fully this time, no half measures, and the transformation that follows is faster and more complete than anything I've allowed myself in years.

The fight that follows exists in fragments, adrenaline and instinct overriding careful thought. I take down the nearest operative before he can properly aim, disarming rather than killing, though the restraint costs me precious seconds I can't really afford. A second shot catches my shoulder, tearing through muscle.

"Fall back!" I hear someone shouting, Cross's voice maybe, distant through the storm and my own labored breathing. "We're not equipped for this, fall back to the rally point!"

The remaining operatives retreat through the trees, and I chase them just far enough to confirm they're actually leaving before pulling back myself, the adrenaline finally starting to fade and the full weight of my injuries settling in all at once. The shoulder wound is worse than I initially registered, blood mixing with rain, and a second gash along my ribs that I don't remember taking stings sharp with every breath.

I make it maybe another hundred yards before my legs finally give out, the shift reversing involuntarily as blood loss overwhelms whatever strength the wolf form was providing. I go down hard in the mud, human again and bleeding badly, the storm still raging around me with no sign of stopping.

I don't know how long I lie there before I hear her voice, sharp with panic, cutting through the storm's roar and my own fading consciousness.

"Kellan!" Zoey's beside me within seconds, hands pressing hard against the worst of the shoulder wound, her face pale with fear even through the rain streaming down it. "Stay with me. Don't you dare close your eyes."

"Told you to stay at the den.”

"And I told you I wasn't leaving you to face this alone." She's already working, tearing fabric from her own jacket to press against the wound with a steadiness that belies the fear in her eyes. "Grady radioed that you went down. I wasn't staying safely at the den while you bled out in a storm."

"You shouldn't be out here. Cross's people could still be close."

"They're retreating, according to the last report. And even if they weren't, I'm not leaving you." Her hands stay steady despite everything, applying pressure exactly the way I taught her weeks ago during basic wilderness first aid. "I need you to focus on staying conscious. Can you walk if I help you?"

I try, and the world tilts alarming and gray at the edges, blood loss making the simple act of standing feel impossibly difficult. "Not far. Not like this."

"Then we wait for help. Rebecca's on her way, I radioed the second I found you." She settles beside me in the mud, maintaining pressure on the wound while rain continues hammering down around us both. "You're going to be okay. Do you hear me? You're not dying in this storm after everything we've survived to get here."

I want to believe her certainty, but the fear underneath my own fading consciousness whispers something darker, the old guilt resurfacing even now. I led that charge. I made the call to fully shift, to risk exposure directly protecting Grady's team. If Cross's people got a clear enough look before retreating, if this fight cost us the secrecy we've spent generations protecting, I've failed everyone who trusted me to lead this defense.

"I might have exposed us," I manage, the words costing precious breath I can't really spare. "If they got clear visual of the shift⁠—"

"Stop. We'll deal with whatever they saw once you're not bleeding out in front of me." Zoey's voice carries a fierceness that cuts through my spiraling guilt. "Right now I need you focused on staying alive, not catastrophizing about consequences we don't even know happened yet."

Rebecca reaches us minutes later, quickly assessing the wound with the practiced efficiency of the pack's healer, and between her and Zoey they manage to get me stable enough for the difficult trip back toward the den. The journey passes in fragments, pain and blood loss making everything blur together, but through all of it Zoey stays close, her hand finding mine whenever the pain threatens to pull me under completely.

By the time we reach proper medical care, I've lost enough blood that Rebecca's expression carries real concern beneath her professional calm, working fast to close the worst of the wounds while Everett hovers nearby, waiting for enough stability to get an actual report on what happened.

"You saved Grady's team," Zoey tells me later, once Rebecca's finished the worst of the emergency treatment and I'm finally stable enough to think clearly again. "Whatever guilt you're carrying about exposure risk, you kept people alive today. That has to count for something."

"If we lost the secrecy we've protected for generations⁠—"