Page 67 of Ethan
“No.” I cut her off, softer than I meant. “It’ll be faster with just me. And someone needs to stay here in case other calls come in.”
Best to give her something to focus on, keep her busy while I handled this.
She hesitated, then nodded, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
I grabbed my healer’s kit, tightening the strap across my shoulder. My hands trembled. There was no time to think.
No excuses. No more hiding behind Devon, or behind fear. I was the healer. It was my responsibility.
Heart pounding, I pushed out the door.
The path I took wasn’t the safest, but it was the fastest. The enforcers had their own trail, wider and more practical for patrols, but I couldn’t risk the time.
Every second mattered. If Micah had come this way, I’d have a better chance of finding him before anything else did.
And I was sure he had. All the kids who grew up in Pecan Pines knew this route. A steep, jagged, winding dare up the mountain.
Colton, Griffin, and I used to scramble up here when we were younger, daring each other to go higher, faster, even though our parents told us not to.
It was a game back then. Right now, it felt like punishment.
My boots slid on a patch of loose gravel, my ankle twisting just enough to shoot pain up my leg. I cursed under my breath and shoved myself forward, clutching my kit tight against my side.
For a split second, I thought about shifting. Four paws would have made this climb easier, faster.
But the kit weighed heavy on my shoulder, and I couldn’t leave it behind. Maurice kept an emergency kit at his cabin, but I didn’t want to gamble on that.
What if Micah needed me before then? What if Maurice did?
I pushed harder, lungs burning, ignoring the sting in my calves and the scrape of branches across my arms.
The sharp scent of blood reached me before the sound did. My stomach dropped, and I sprinted the last stretch of the trail.
Up ahead, near a jut of rock, I spotted them. Maurice was slumped against the stone, his shirt dark with blood, one arm wrapped tight around Micah, who clung to him like he was the only thing holding him up.
“Ethan,” Maurice rasped when he saw me, relief flashing in his eyes. “Wolves… came out of nowhere. Got rid of a few… but I couldn’t…”
His words broke off in a cough that brought up more blood.
Micah’s eyes widened when he saw me, tears streaking his cheeks. “He can’t walk. I-I tried to help, but?—”
“I’ve got him,” I said quickly, dropping to my knees beside them.
My fingers trembled only for a second before training took over. I pressed my hand to Maurice’s side, feeling the warmth of blood spill against my palm. There was too much.
The familiar rush of healing stirred inside me, bright and strong. Stronger than it had felt in weeks.
I pushed it into Maurice, stitching together torn vessels, steadying his ragged breaths. Relief nearly buckled me. Finally, my gift wasn’t failing me.
Maurice groaned, but the bleeding slowed. His chest rose steadier under my hand.
“That’s all I can do right now,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. “We need to get you to the cabin. Enforcers might?—”
A howl split the air. They were close.
From the shadows between the trees, yellow eyes gleamed. Then another set. And another.
“Stay behind me,” I snapped and grabbed the nearest thing I could find—an uprooted branch lying in the dirt.
