Page 43 of Ruthless Moon

“She’s not pack or family.” Aiden’s voice breaks through my daze. “She can’t share her magic with him.”

“Are you suddenly a witch, Aiden O’Connor? Do you want your cousin to live?” Lila snaps.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his voice softer and respectful.

“Do as I say, missy. Hands on the man.”

Taking a deep breath, I step forward between Bast and Jackson, placing my trembling hands flat on Liam’s chest next to all the other male ones. A surge of energy sparks within me, my wolf stirring at the connection. Liam’s heartbeat, weak but present, syncs with my own.

Dread nibbles at my resolve.

Aiden’s gaze is an unspoken question I can’t afford to answer. What if he senses something? What if he unravels the truth we’ve so carefully hidden?

The thought sends a shiver of dread down my spine, but I push it away, focusing instead on willing strength into Liam’s battered body.

Every beat of my heart is a painful echo of the promise Liam and I made to each other. We vowed to sacrifice our mate bond, our natural connection, for the safety of the valley, for the sake of peace.

The approaching marriage isn’t just about me, or Aiden, or even about Liam—it’s about the survival of our packs, the O’Connors, and the preservation of this hidden, mystical refuge. If my uncle or father uncovers the truth, the resulting war will have devastating consequences.

But Fate, the thought ofactuallylosing Liam feels like a blade lodged in my chest.

Lila’s voice rises and falls in an ancient cadence that thrums in my blood. More old Welsh. The words weave a spell, pulling me away from my spiraling thoughts. To my astonishment, bullets begin to wriggle out of Liam’s wounds like something from a superhero movie.

Lila pockets the small, crumpled slugs, and resumes her rhythmic chanting.

The atmosphere in the room morphs around us. The air loses its dense, dread-laden gravity, replacing it with a fluttering sense of relief that makes my heart lighter in my chest.

The thrumming connection between me and Liam surges.

His strength returns. The steady rhythm of his heart syncs with mine. Lila has somehow woven all of our wolf magick together, enhancing Liam’s healing with our shared energy. Relief washes over me like a tidal wave.

He’s going to live.He’s going to live. He’s going to live.

“Very good,” Lila sighs, placing both hands on the table. She leans over Liam, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her face is ashen, exhaustion etching deep lines into her features.

“Come sit down.” Bast is the first to break the silence, circling the table. He gently guides Lila toward a chair, his movements gentle.

“Your brother will be awake and good as new before the next hour.” Her hand pats Bast’s with a maternal warmth.

I swallow hard, the knot in my throat struggling to loosen even with the reassuring statement.

“Thank you, Lila.” Bast’s voice is thick, each word heavy with gratitude.

I let my gaze wander to Aiden, who stands like a sentinel at Liam’s head.

Aiden’s dark eyes are fixed on his cousin with an intensity that speaks volumes, the rigidity in his frame contrasting his natural easy grace. The corners of his mouth are drawn tight, a subtle sign of the worry he’s desperately trying to hide.

His hand, large and capable, rests gently on Liam’s shoulder, a silent oath of brotherhood and loyalty. There’s a tenderness there, a vulnerability that seems almost out of place on his stern features. But it’s there, a quiet testament to the deep bond that exists between him and his cousin.

The pull toward Liam is so strong it physically hurts. Every instinct screams at me to go back to him, to hold his hand, to reassure myself that he’s truly all right. But I can’t.

Not with Aiden watching.

Not with the stakes so high.

“We should get you back to your father’s,” Aiden says, stepping toward me. “The blood moon will be upon us tonight. Your father is expecting you to run with your pack, I’m sure.”

I instinctively step back, mirroring his movements, a silent plea for space.

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