Page 42 of Moon Fated

I collapsed to my knees beside Rowan, my trembling fingers scrabbling at his neck, desperate to find a pulse. But my own heart was pounding too loudly, drowning out everything else. Black spots danced across my vision, and I felt myself falling, falling...

No. With a burst of determination, I wrenched myself back from the brink. I couldn't pass out. Rowan needed me. We needed each other.

Holding my breath until my lungs burned, I upended my backpack with shaking hands, scattering its contents across the dirt floor. Bandages, antiseptic, painkillers...there. My fingers closed around the small naloxone kit.

Put on your own oxygen mask first.

But even as I fumbled to open it, I could feel my grip on consciousness slipping. The edges of my vision tunneled, narrowing to a pinpoint. Rowan's face swam in and out of focus, his features slack and pale.

I had to...had to...

The naloxone slipped from my numb fingers as the darkness rushed up to claim me.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Rowan

The world around me started to fracture like a shattered mirror. Vibrant hues of redwood trees bled into unrecognizable smears, and the bland walls of the room around me blended into a disorienting fog that clawed at my senses. A dull roar filled my ears, distorting into a cacophony that threatened to swallow me whole.

Pain lanced through my skull, sharp and persistent as if my wolf was clawing to break free, to run from whatever was causing this upheaval. But even he seemed lost in the chaos, his primal instincts dampened by whatever magic or ailment gripped me.

I staggered, my legs suddenly insubstantial. I reached out for something, anything solid to anchor myself to reality, but my hands grasped only empty air. As hard as I tried to will my alpha strength to the fore, to command my body to obey, my knees buckled, and the ground rushed up to meet me.

In the fragmented haze of my vision, memories flashed—flickers of life in Black Lake Pack, the faces of those who relied on me, their alpha. The pressures of leadership, the weight of expectations, they all dissolved in this maelstrom, leaving behind a hollow feeling where once there had been purpose.

I didn’t care.

None of it mattered.

Who was Rowan Steele without his pack? Without his role as protector and provider?

A phantom sensation brushed against my skin—the touch of a mate I had yet to claim—and it stung with a yearning that felt like another piece of the puzzle slipping away. My thoughts chased the fleeting comfort of that imagined touch, spiraling at dizzying speed.

And then heat exploded in my thigh, sharp and brutal. I gasped, the pain a lifeline that hauled me back from the brink of unconsciousness. My mind cleared, sharpening as if drawn from a sheathe, and I clutched at my leg, probing for the cause of the sting.

"Rowan!" The voice cut through the remnants of my stupor, tethering me to the here and now. It was her. Evelyn.

The sight of her ignited a rush of relief through my veins. Her hazel eyes locked with mine. She was above me. Was I on the ground? How had I gotten there?

I opened my mouth to speak, but then a flicker of movement snagged my attention—a shadow detaching itself from the wall behind her.

I tensed, every muscle coiled tight as instinct screamed a warning through my blood. "Behind you," I managed to growl, my voice low and rough with urgency.

Evelyn didn't hesitate, didn't falter, merely shifted her stance. My wolf bristled beneath my skin, eager to leap forward, teeth bared in defense.

A shifter. In a gas mask.

I forced myself up and lunged, wrapping my arms around his waist and tackling him to the ground. I was weak. Clumsy. My wolf clawed at my consciousness, demanding release, but this fight needed precision over brute strength.

He landed a blow against my temple, and I faltered, then twisted, throwing him sideways. I blocked a kick, pivoting to strike back. I scrambled to my feet and pivoted, letting instinct guide me as I sidestepped a wild punch. My counter was swift—a palm strike to his sternum that sent the man stumbling backward. He was strong, but I was the alpha for a reason.

"Yield!" Alpha energy poured out of me, and I felt him flinch.

The man lunged, a desperate edge to his movements, but I read them like the open pages of a well-thumbed book. I dodged and wove through his attacks, my own blows landing with satisfying thuds against his flesh. A hook to the gut, a jab to the throat—I was a tempest, relentless and unforgiving.

The taste of victory was on my tongue as the man faltered under the barrage. His breaths were ragged, his stance unsteady. I could end him, let the beast within loose, and watch as he crumbled before me.

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