Chapter 13
林家 59%會
+15
Nana slowly sneaks out of the packhouse, clutching her sides, her body trembling from exhaustion. Her fever burns like fire, and her mind is foggy, but she keeps moving, driven by instinct.
“Where the hell am I even going?” she mutters under her breath, her voice hoarse. “I can’t even shift… Lana’s too damn weak to help me sniff my way to him.”
Her steps are slow and shaky, but she follows the faint pull deep in her chest. Lowell’s scent lingers in the air, faint but enough to guide her. She stumbles occasionally, cursing at every root and rock in her way.
“Damn it, Mate, how far are you?” she groans. Her legs feel like they’re made of lead, her head pounding harder with every step.
Finally, she spots a small, rundown hut far ahead. It looks like it’s been abandoned for years, but something about it feels… right. Her gut tells her he’s there. The moonlight barely reaches the clearing, but her enhanced sight, a gift from their mating, helps her see clearer than she used to.
As she approaches, a low groan reaches her ears. It’s faint but unmistakably familiar. She freezes for a moment, fear crawling up her spine, but she forces herself to move.
She pushes the door open, the hinges creaking loudly. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of blood and sweat. Lowell is sprawled on the ground in his Lycan form, his massive frame taking up most of the space. His fur, dark with streaks of blue, is matted with blood.
His eyes snap open, glowing with a fierce intensity. “Mate,” he rasps, his voice guttural, filled with pain. He struggles to push himself up, but before he can, Nana is already by his side.
“You need to lie down, My Prince,” she whispers, her voice trembling. She places a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back. He doesn’t resist, collapsing onto the ground with a heavy groan, his hand clutching his rib where the pain seems to be the worst.
Nana’s eyes widen as she takes in the wound. “Shit… this looks bad,” she mutters, panic creeping into her voice. Blood oozes from the gash, staining the Tur around it. She doesn’t know where to start or how to help him.
His voice suddenly echoes in her head, faint and cracked. *“You… need help… remove the silver… bullet inside.“*
Her breath catches. “Did you just… mindlink me?” dwell on it.
e asks, astonish
They aren’t fully bonded, so this shouldn’t be possible. But there’s no time to
She looks around, her mind racing. “What the hell do I use? I can’t e frustration spilling over.
shift properly. Your pain is screwing with Lana too much,” she says, her
Inside her mind, Lana stirs weakly, groaning from the shared pain. “Lana, come on,”* Nana pleads. “We have to try. Just give me enough to use our claws. I need to pull out that damn bullet.“”
Lana doesn’t respond, but Nana feels her pushing through, struggling against the weakness that grips them both. Slowly, Nana’s fingers begin to shift, elongating into claws. Her hand trembles as she examines them.
Lowell’s eyes flutter shut again, his breathing shallow but steady. She tears a strip from the hem of her gown, wrapping it tightly around her claws to avoid direct contact with the silver. Her heart pounds as she positions her hand over the wound.
“Okay, Nana, you can do this,” she mutters to herself, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. With a deep breath, she digs her claws into the bloody gash.
Lowell growls low in his throat, his body tensing under her touch. Nana grits her teeth, her own side flaring with phantom pain. It’s as if she’s the one being torn apart.
“Fuck, this hurts,” she hisses, her vision blurring with tears. But she doesn’t stop. She feels the bullet, small and cold, lodged deep in the muscle. She digs deeper, ignoring the way her hands shake.
Lowell groans louder, his claws scraping against the wooden floor. “Almost there,” Nana whispers, though she’s not sure if she’s reassuring him or herself.
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16:03 Thu, 8 May GO.
Chapter 13
59%
Finally, her claws hook onto the bullet, and with one last push, she yanks it out. Blood gushes from the wound, soaking her hands and the makeshift bandage. She quickly shoves the cloth into the injury, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
As she works, the pain in her side begins to fade, the bond casing as Lowell’s agony lessens. His body relaxes, his breathing evening out. He slips into unconsciousness, his massive form sprawling limply on the floor.
Nana sits back on her heels, her chest heaving. She stares at the silver bullet in her bloodstained hand as she holds it with part of the cloth from her gown, anger and relief swirling inside her. She tosses it aside, wiping her hands on what’s left of her gown.
Her eyes drift back to Lowell. Even in his battered state, his Lycan form is breathtaking. He’s massive, his fur a dark, rich color with waves of blue shimmering under the faint light. His broad shoulders and muscular build make Marco look like just a twig in comparison.
Her gaze softens as she watches him sleep. For a moment, she allows herself to admire him, to feel the connection pulling her closer.
But the reality of their situation crashes down on her. She’s out here, risking her life for him, while back at the packhouse, Melissa and Marco are probably enjoying their moment and having their plots.
Shaking her head, she leans against the wall, exhaustion finally catching up with her. “You better wake up soon, Prince,” she mutters, her voice barely
audible.
The silence of the hut is broken only by the sound of their breathing. But she can’t stay here, she needs to go back before daylight.
