Page 40 of The Alpha's Shattered Bonds

He shrugged. “You needed cheering up.”

Embarrassment fluttered through me. Had he noticed how down I’d been?

Logan had been his usual quiet presence around me the last few days, and I hadn’t thought I’d been so transparent. But he surprised me even more as he said, “I can feel it, you know? Your feelings for Tyler.”

No accusation laced his tone, but I blurted out, “I don’t have feelings for him.” I wished desperately for that to be true, hopingfor the pain to disappear, longing to cut out this ache that had become my ever-present companion.

With a gentleness that ignited something unexpected in my chest, Logan observed, “You wish you didn’t have feelings for him. I feel that, too.” He placed a hand over his own heart, a point of connection that made the world feel both vast and intimate.

The sincerity in his eyes made me feel transparent, and my cheeks heated under his steady gaze.

“It may not feel possible now, Seraphina,” he promised, “but I will bring you happiness. I will help lift the weight of Tyler’s shadow from your heart.”

His earnestness surged within me like a tide as I envisioned a future where that might just be possible. Feeling lighter than I’d thought possible, given everything, I enjoyed the rest of the day painting with Logan’s quiet presence stirring a new ease in me.

Each day, I found a new rhythm, allowing Logan to be the steady strength, lifting me from the shadows. With time, perhaps there could be happiness—or at least more hazelnut lattes.

The energy around us felt lighter. Ever since the jedra herb had cured the last of the Silver Moon warriors like Neave, the pack thrived. The sun filled the skies, warmth returning with a last burst of fair weather, and the camaraderie seemed to blanket us, a balm for our collective spirits.

One day, Logan and I were taking a break from painting and enjoying some brownies that Tara and I had made together when Neave wobbled on the ladder.

“Babe!” Ollie called out, startling me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Neave swaying precariously on a ladder.

“It’s probably just a sugar gap,” Neave laughed, batting Ollie away. Still, he helped her down, and she ambled over to join us on the tree rounds Logan and I were perched on.

Logan, with a mouthful of brownie, replied, “If this is your wicked plan to lay claim to one of my brownies, Neave, it’s working.”

A genuine smile lifted my lips. Logan’s enjoyment of the gooey brownies—his favorites—warmed my heart.

Neave helped herself to a sizeable slice of brownie, but a sudden worry pricked my gut at the clamminess she wore on her cheeks and brow. I walked over to examine her, pressing my palm against her forehead. Closing my eyes, to my horror, I felt it: a slick, oily presence that clung to her like tar. Dread twisted my insides.

“Ollie, you need to take Neave to the infirmary,” I ordered with urgency threading my voice.

Before Neave could protest, Ollie dashed forward, bundling her into his arms and racing toward the town center. I grabbed my bag of magic supplies from Logan’s porch, my heart pounding as I felt Logan trailing behind me.

The air changed. A choking fog seemed to envelop our town, swallowing the brightness that had dared to bloom. As we hurried toward the infirmary, dread settled heavily upon my chest, echoing in Logan’s worried gaze.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, but his voice crackled with uncertainty.

“How, Logan?” I shot back, frustration creeping into my tone. “The jedra was supposed to cure the illness. If it’s back—”

“This isn’t all on you, Seraphina.” His steady gaze cut right to the heart of my fears—how the suspicion of the pack weighed heavily on my shoulders. He sensed it, the bond we shared tethering our feelings together. But, with the illness returning, wasn’t it only a matter of time before their scrutiny turned back on me?

When we entered the infirmary, my stomach bottomed out: David already lay in one of the beds, his face pale and drawn. The illness was resurfacing in more packmates than just Neave. The jedra wasn’t the long-term solution we had believed it to be.

Logan went over to see his cousin, David, and my heart squeezed from the worry I felt in my chest.

I unpacked my supplies, frantic energy coursing through my veins as if I couldn’t work quickly enough. Only Kelly, one of the infirmary aides, was present.

“I’ve called for Healer Linda,” she informed me, but there was worry in her voice that mirrored my own.

Almost as if summoned by our fear, Healer Linda arrived. Soon, her arms were full of the jedra herbs and the remnants of the potions we had distilled. But I recognized the grim look on her face. She understood as acutely as I did that the jedra we had counted on hadn’t worked.

The door swung open again, and Harry, the other Silver Moon warrior who had recovered recently, was brought in. His eyes were fever-bright and unseeing.

Panic surged through me as Logan brushed his hand down my arm in a gentle but firm gesture, grounding me as I felt the weight of the world resting on my shoulders. He helped me set up my makeshift station, washing the herbs and sanitizing the tools I needed to brew more of the jedra cure. It had alleviated the symptoms for some time. That was the best we could do for now.

But as I turned to look at Logan again, fear clawed at my throat. A sheen clouded his forehead, and he looked clammy. I darted forward, pressing my hand against his brow.

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