Page 80 of Sold to the Alphas

“Please,” I said to the healer. “Don’t let him die. He can’t die.”

Her eyes flickered briefly over to me, but there was no time for reassurances. She was focused, her expression grim as she worked.

“He’s strong,” she said quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the noise in my head. “But even the strongest wolves can’t always pull through when they’re this far gone.”

I wanted to scream at her to stop talking like that. To stop implying that August might not make it. But I couldn’t. All I could do was stand there, my legs like lead, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

My other two alphas hovered at the door uneasily, but neither of them dared to come closer. They both knew this was my battle now, and they knew better than to interfere. They were outside, and I was inside with him. My world had shrunk down to this room, this quiet, tense space filled with nothing but the sound of the healer’s quiet murmurs and the thrum of my own heartbeat, frantic in my chest.

I kept talking to him, even though he couldn’t respond. I had to. I couldn’t let him think I was going to give up.

“I know you can hear me, August,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I know you can. So...fight. You can do this. Come back to me. Please.”

I barely noticed when the healer finished, her hands pulling away from his body, leaving him still as death on the bed. She let out a long sigh, and I felt my heart drop.

“I’ve done what I can for him. The rest is on him,” she said softly, her voice far too gentle.

Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw something there. Something sad, a recognition of the weight that hung between us.

Her eyes flickered over to where Marshall and Finn stood, silent and grim. I could see that neither of them wanted to disturb the moment, but they were ready to act if needed. Marshall gave me a subtle nod, and I barely registered it. I wasn’t even sure if I acknowledged them as I moved to sit beside August, my hand still lingering at his side.

“Is there any chance...” I started, my voice trembling as I dared to ask the question I feared most. “Will he wake up? Will he...”

The healer closed her eyes briefly before nodding, though it wasn’t a sure, confident gesture. She didn’t have the answer. None of us did.

“I can’t make promises,” she replied, shaking her head, her voice soft but firm. “He’s hanging on, but it’s up to him now. He has to choose to fight.”

My eyes locked on her face, the weight of her words sinking into me like a stone. This was all I had now—hope.

I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t.

Marshall and Finn finally spoke, but it felt like their voices were miles away.

“We’ll handle the council,” Marshall said, his tone steady despite the chaos outside. “We’ll make sure the town is safe. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Finn just nodded, his face a mask of frustration and grief, his eyes clouded with anger and something deeper.

The healer left the room, giving me one last glance before closing the door behind her. The room felt smaller without her. My breath grew shallow again, the silence wrapping around me like a suffocating weight.

Time passed slowly. Too slowly. I tried to keep myself occupied by speaking to him, even if it was just me speaking into the silence. I told him everything I’d never said to him, words I’d been too scared to voice before.

“You always try to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, August,” I muttered. “You need to learn to share the burden. You need to stop pushing me away. I can help you. If you’ll just come back to me, I’ll make sure you never have to do anything alone again.”

I wiped a tear away from my eyes before it could spill.

“I don’t get it. You’ve been so kind to me, telling me things I never expected, and then you just...push me away. Like you don’t even want me here. But I’m here now, August. And I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? I won’t leave you.”

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but there was nothing else. No sign of him waking. My heart felt like it was splintering with each passing minute.

What if he didn’t want to wake up? What if he was too tired, too broken to come back?

I couldn’t bear the thought. I clung to the idea that he would come back to me. I couldn’t lose him, not when everything we had yet to say and do still waited for us.

“I’m pregnant, August,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I’m carrying your pup. Our pup. And you still haven’t marked me, not for real. Not since that first time. Why haven’t you? You’re so damn stubborn.”

A sob caught in my throat, and I quickly wiped my eyes. I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t about appearances. It wasn’t about holding it together anymore.

“I’m so scared,” I admitted. “I’m scared you won’t wake up. I’m scared you don’t want to come back. And if you don’t...I don’t know what I’ll do.”

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