Second book
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Marcos Rivera is the Alpha of the New Moon Pack. When his former pack was almost wiped out by a surprised rogue attack orchestrated by his uncle, he decided to move with his Beta Javier Vega and what was left o...
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AN: This may be the longest chapter I've written, 2,377 words. I hope you guys enjoy it. I apologize for any mistakes.
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Three days. Seventy-two hours of relentless searching, of chasing shadows, and we were no closer to finding that damned Luis or where he'd taken Aiyden.
Carlos, Manuel, and a few warriors had tracked Aiyden's scent to the town's edge, only to vanish like smoke in the wind.
Currently, I sit beside Marcos's bed. My brother flatlined three times, and those instances rank as the most terrifying in my life, tearing away a piece of my soul each time.
I clasp my fingers together tightly, forming a prison of flesh and bone, hoping to infuse him with life again.
The steady beep of the heart monitor is the sole sound permeating the haunting silence.
A wave of helplessness was about to swallow me whole. I stood divided, one foot by my brother's side, the other itching to search for Aiyden.
The tension of this division was stretching me to my limits, threatening to break me.
Fear, my uninvited guest, gnawed at my insides relentlessly.
I feared for Marcos, lying so motionless and pallid on the hospital bed.
I feared for our Luna; his fate was an enigma.
The fear was palpable, hanging heavy in the air, a constant reminder of our vulnerability.
Frustration seethed within me. I was a man of action, accustomed to wielding control.
But in this predicament, I felt impotent. I was desperate to do something, anything, to alter the circumstances. The desperation was a living, breathing thing, driving us to the edge of reason.
But I was trapped, incapacitated. The helplessness was suffocating, a heavy weight on our shoulders that we couldn't shake off.
And then there was the sadness. A heavy, suffocating kind of sadness settled in my heart.
Trayvon had been a wreck since the beginning, and I was helpless to ease his pain.
My mate, Trayvon, hadn't strayed from my side for a moment. When I retreated to the bathroom, he would linger outside the door, awaiting my return.
I knew he was petrified, as were the rest of us.
The door burst open, breaking the silence, and my gaze immediately found the figures stepping inside. Ian and JJ, his Beta, entered, their faces etched with the telltale signs of exhaustion.
Ian gave a weary nod, his gaze lingering on Marcos, who lay as still as death on the bed, and asked me, "Any change?"
Dr. Chang had informed us that they had to put Marcos in an induced coma, a desperate attempt to speed and help his and his wolf Onix's healing. They had succeeded in flushing the poison from his body, the poison that the rogue Luis gave to my brother, and now the task of healing was up to them.
