“I have medical supplies,” he says, each word measured like he’s talking to a spooked animal. Maybe he is. “You need treatment.”

The mere thought of him touching me sends tremors through my body. At the Academy, touch was never gentle. Never kind. Itwas correction, control, a reminder of our place. And back home…even though it feels like an entire lifetime ago…touch was…touch was nonexistent.

But my wounds are screaming now, the adrenaline fading enough for pain to take hold. The cut on my arm drips steadily, and my ribs feel like they’re wrapped in fire. The tiny scrapes and cuts from my time in the forest all burn at once.

The alpha’s scent shifts again, taking on an edge of urgency. “You’re going into shock.”

Am I? The room seems to be swaying slightly. Or maybe that’s me. The bed frame is the only thing keeping me upright right now.

He moves forward, and this time I’m too dizzy to flinch away. His hands hover near my shoulders, not touching, but ready to catch me. “Please. Let me help you.”

That word again. Please. Like I have a choice. Like my consent matters.

But there’s something raw in his voice, something almost desperate that doesn’t fit what I know of alphas.

“I—” My voice cracks from disuse and fear shoots through me at the fact I spoke. How long has it been since I’ve spoken? Since I’ve been allowed to? Oh God, he’s going to punish me. This act of kindness, or whatever it is, will snap, and he’ll punish me.

“Shh, it’s okay.” His scent wraps around me, steadying. Grounding. “Just nod if you understand me. The medical supplies are in the bathroom. I need to get them. Will you be alright if I leave for a moment?”

Leave? He’s asking permission to leave?

Nothing makes sense. The room spins faster. My arm throbs in time with my heartbeat.

I don’t know what to do. My head sways, and the alpha releases a distressed grunt. With little effort, his arms encircle me and he lifts me off the floor, setting me back on the cot.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright.” The promise is like his physicaltouch. Warm and right when it should all feel so wrong. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

It’s not an alpha command—I can feel the difference—but my body obeys anyway. I stay pressed into the cot as he rises, as his footsteps retreat. The door stays open. I could run.

Ishouldrun.

But where? The forest nearly killed me the first time. And I’m so tired. So hurt. So…

The alpha’s scent lingers, pine and earth and safety that I can’t trust but desperately want to. As the room tilts sharply, my vision greys at the edges. I hear rapid footsteps returning, feel the displacement of air as he drops to his knees beside me.

“Stay with me.” His voice sounds far away. “You’re safe here. I promise you’re safe.”

Lies. Pretty lies wrapped in a gentle voice and pine scent. But I’m falling anyway, sliding into a shroud as consciousness slips away.

The last thing I feel is strong arms around me, cradling me like I’m something precious instead of broken. Unwanted. Only good enough to be desired in secret.

The last thing I hear is a ragged whisper: “What happened to you?”

Then darkness takes me again, but this time it smells like pine.

Chapter 7

Stone

Her scent fills the cabin—fear and pain twisted together with something sweeter underneath, something that makes me want to growl. The medical kit trembles in my hands as I kneel beside the bed where I’d laid her down. Unconscious again, but her face is pinched with pain even in sleep.

Focus. Clinical. Think like a doctor, not an alpha.

But fuck, it’s hard when every instinct screams to protect, to soothe. No. Focus on the wounds first.

The gash on her arm needs immediate attention. It’s deep—not deep enough for stitches, thankfully, but it’s angry and red around the edges. The rest of her is a map of smaller cuts and bruises, evidence of what must have been a frantic run through the forest. Her clothes are torn, dirty, and there’s dirt under her fingernails. Her poor feet are also raw from what must have been her running barefoot the entire time.

Good God.