Page 21 of Wolf Chosen

I might not fully realize what the bond actually is, but now it’s gone, I’m drowning with frigid emptiness. Terror slices into me, gnawing my insides, cold and stark where there was warmth and light.

Liam’s warmth and light.

I hadn’t even realized how complete it made me. How complete he made me.

Maybe what Liam told me is the truth. That I really am part wolf shifter, or at least have strains of it in my blood. Maybe I do feel a special connection with him because there’s no way I should feel like my heart has just been cut from my chest.

How does that even work? How can something like that just disappear?

What the fuck is Rowan doing to Liam to make it vanish so suddenly?

I drown with unanswered questions. It’s not possible to know how much time passes. There are no windows in this cell. No clocks. Seconds are hours. The darkness in the cell threatens to swallow me whole. Anxiety twists my stomach, and I rock back and forth, trying to ground myself. Terror-filled uncertainty is a knife that twists deeper with each passing moment.

My thoughts spiral, vivid images of what Rowan is doing to Liam slamming into me. My lungs constrict again and I dig my nails into my palms in a feeble attempt to distract myself from overwhelming dread. Just when it feels unbearable, a sound—a faint scuff—breaks through the silence. My heart lurches. Hope, fragile and desperate, propels me to my feet.

Two figures emerge from the shadows, one strolling beside a lurching figure barely able to stand. He leaves a crimson trail where he steps. Oh God, what has Liam been through? My stomach churns, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from retching.

Rowan’s face is a mask of indifference. He waves the door open, and Liam collapses inside. I fall to my knees beside him, the cold stone biting into my skin, but I don't care. I reach out, my hands trembling. I don’t know how to touch him, how to help him without causing more pain.

“That was the best fun I’ve had in years.” A smile stretches across Rowan’s plain face.

He thinks hurting Liam like this is a joke? Rage is an incandescent ball in the pit of my stomach. “You’re an insane monster!”

Rowan shrugs. “Perhaps, but I’ll still get my revenge.”

Revenge. Revenge for what? He isn’t the one who's hurt. He isn’t bleeding and shaking on a cold, dirty floor. Rowan sniffs and strolls away without another word. At least he didn’t tell me he wasn’t insane. He still has an ounce of self-awareness.

“You’re okay,” Liam's voice, weak and broken, reaches my ears. A whisper of relief flutters in my chest and I bend over him, tears streaming down my face because I can feel him again.

“You’re the one who's hurt and you’re worried about me?” Tears blur my vision. The sight of his blood, his suffering, is a knife to my heart.

“If I shift to my wolf, I can heal,” Liam rasps. His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes glazed with pain. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, please, Liam.” My voice cracks. “Please, shift.”

In an instant fur ripples along his body as he transforms. The wolf that emerges is majestic, even in this state of vulnerability. He curls into a ball, shuddering. His eyes close as he passes out.

I move slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb him. I curl beside him and wrap my arm around his warm, fur-covered body. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is a small comfort amidst the chaos.

In the void of this cell, with only the sound of Liam’s breathing and the warmth of his body, I find a sliver of hope because he’s still alive. Despite my terror, sleep wraps around me like a suffocating blanket, dragging me into a different realm—a forest, dense and shadowed, with the scent of pine and earth filling my senses.

I’m running, the ground beneath me soft with fallen leaves as a gentle breeze rustles the leaves. Beside me, Liam's massive gray wolf runs effortlessly, his presence a comforting shadow. There are no wounds marring his fur, no pain darkening his eyes. He’s happy. Healed. The sight brings a fragile sense of relief.

In my dream, the forest stretches endlessly around me, trees towering like ancient guardians. The air is crisp, filled with the scent of pine and earth. Liam’s wolf is a massive blur of strength and grace. His eyes gleam with life and light and for the first time, I see him happy and whole.

His fur brushes against my leg, a comforting presence, and I run my fingers through the soft strands, marveling at their warmth. There are no wounds on his body, and I breathe deeply, grateful beyond words. But the dream shifts, and with it, a sense of urgency arises.

We need to get to safety, but the forest is a labyrinth of trees and undergrowth. Liam said he knows this forest. He grew up here. He should know the way back to Willowbrook, but I can’t talk to him when he’s a wolf.

“Liam? Can you shift back to your human form? We need to find help.”

But he doesn't change. His wolf's eyes meet mine, and the glow within them dims. Something's wrong. The wolf's gaze is wild, untamed, lacking the humanity that should be there. When Liam shifted earlier in the cell, his eyes held the same soul, the same consciousness, no matter his form, but now, he's different. More animal than man.

The wolf lowers his head, sniffing the air. His eyes bear a wild glint. My heart skips a beat, tensing with uncertainty. “Liam, please,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Shift back.”

A chill runs down my spine. Tension coils in my muscles. I want to believe that Liam wouldn't hurt me, that he's still there somewhere, but the way his wolf regards me is unsettling. It's the look of a wild predator, curious and detached. He looks at me like I’m…prey.

I swallow hard, fighting back the fear. “Liam, please,” I whisper. “Come back to me.”

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