Page 41 of Shadowed Bond

But she is already turning away, walking across the ruined ground towards where the car should be, her steps slower than they should be. I notice that immediately: her entire body is rigid, her hand presses briefly against her ribs before she lowers it to her side, and her aura is faint, too.

“Charlotte,” I say again.

She does not stop. I know I should go after her. I should say something.

Anything.

But I just stand there, trapped between pride and panic and the ugly truth that I have no idea how to fix the damage I caused with my own fucking mouth.

Then she collapses, and it’s as if the entire world stops.

One moment she is walking away from me, proud, furious and hurt; the next, her knees give out, her body folding towards the concrete ground.

“Charlotte!”

I move before the sound of her name finishes leaving my mouth.

The distance between us vanishes under my feet; my aura surges as if I’ve found some dredged-up remnant of it by sheer will alone. I catch her before she hits the ground, dropping to my knees with her in my arms.

Her head falls against my chest, her eyes shut, her lips pale.

No.

No, fuck no.

“Arden,” I growl, shaking her once; not hard, but enough. “Don’t do that.”

Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m here,” I say, even though she can’t hear me.

She needs a healer, now. The panic I feel only sharpens my thoughts.

I curse, low and vicious, then lift my head and scan the grounds. The car is too far, and driving aimlessly with her like this is a shit plan; I’ll be faster in wolf form. I just need to be able to shift.

Out in the air without the poison fucking me up as much, I might be able to.

The Black Storm Pack is pretty close; I’ll go there.

I pull her closer, pressing my mouth near her ear. “You’re going to be ok. You hear me, Princess?”

She doesn’t answer, and I slowly place her on the ground, my eyes blazing as I call my wolf forward.

He is already waiting for the moment, and I relinquish control to him. I feel my body begin to shift; it’s slower than normal, the pain fucking excruciating as each bone breaks and reshapes, and I snarl into the night.

The moment my paws hit the ground, I lift her onto my back, my water wrapping around her waist like a rope and holding her in place as I break into a run. My eyes blaze as I push myself, needing to get her the help she needs as soon as possible.

The Desert Storm Pack is left behind in a blur, and I keep moving; the trees and land are a blur, and the Blood Moon following us above is a reminder of the fate it had thrust upon us.

Mates are weaknesses.

The words come back at me with every step. Stupid, harsh and spoken by me.

Weakness?

Na, this is worse; this is fucking terror.

This is the world narrowing to one heartbeat that is not mine, and my desperation for it to be ok is all I currently care about.