The Weak Link

Lucifer’s POV

I leaned against a pillar, half-shadowed, watching the scene unfold like some badly written play. But the longer I watched, the harder it became to tell if the ache in my chest was irritation or something else I didn’t want to name.

Alpha Luther stood like the snake he’s always been, his voice slick and smooth as he told the Lycan Prince that this was Diana’s engagement party. You’d think that would end the conversation. But no—Luther’s posture shifted, spine just slightly bent toward the Prince, already angling himself to curry favor. A man like Luther always had two games running in his head—the one everyone could see and the one that would cut you when you weren’t looking.

The Prince—tall, broad, the kind of presence that demanded a room whether you wanted it or not—smiled faintly. “I hear there’s been talk of rejection,” he said, not even glancing at Sam. “If Lady Diana is pleased with me, she can reject her groom here and now.”

My jaw tightened. The audacity didn’t surprise me—Lycans have never been known for subtlety—but the insult landed like a deliberate strike. His eyes slid toward Sam and I saw the faint curl of his lip, the slow, almost lazy appraisal before he delivered the blow.

“This is him?” The Prince’s voice carried, loud enough for the whole damn hall. “The man meant to marry you? Seems… lacking.”

I curled my hand into a fist. I didn’t even know why. Sam wasn’t my problem. He’d never been my problem. In fact, seeing him squirm was usually my favorite part of any gathering. But right now—watching him stand there silent, staring at the ground, letting this Lycans’ words roll over him without a spark of fire—something about it made my wolf shift uncomfortably inside me.

Where was the mouthy brat who always bit back?

Where was his father?

I glanced toward the older Alpha, expecting him to at least growl in defense of his son, but the man stood stiff, eyes fixed on some distant point, lips pressed into a thin, cold line. He wasn’t going to step in. He wasn’t going to lift a single finger.

And then Diana spoke.

“I reject you, Samuel.”

The words were smooth, polished, perfectly enunciated for the gathered audience.

I didn’t expect the impact it had on me. The second she said it, Sam staggered back like he’d been hit with something far worse than a punch. His knees buckled, and the sound that came out of him wasn’t human—it was raw, animal, broken. He hit the ground with a heavy, echoing crash.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The bond was tearing him apart. His hands clawed at his own chest, his clothes ripping, his nails raking his own skin like he could somehow dig the pain out. He thrashed, choked out half-formed cries, his wolf howling so loud I could almost feel it reverberate in my bones.

Alex tried to get to him but two guards blocked his way. And for some reason, that only made my wolf push harder against me, claws scraping at my insides.

The Prince’s voice cut through the chaos. “This is the man you would have me believe is worthy of your daughter? Weak. Pathetic. I cannot believe this is what was meant to be bound to her.”

He turned, eyes sweeping the crowd. “Where is his father?”

The older Alpha stepped forward finally, but his voice was cold, detached. “I have another son. Younger. Stronger. He can make amends for this disgrace. Spare us this humiliation and he will serve in Samuel’s place.”

I stared at him. I shouldn’t have been surprised. But it still burned to see a father toss his own blood away like it meant nothing.

Sam was still on the floor, every sound he made cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. His chest rose and fell in jagged gasps, his eyes glazed, his hands trembling violently. It wasn’t just pain anymore—it was the kind of collapse that could take him beyond recovery.

I moved before I even thought about it.

The crowd parted, whispers spilling like smoke as I crossed to him. The Prince’s gaze found mine, sharp and questioning, but I didn’t break stride. I crouched, slipped an arm under Sam’s back, the other under his knees, and lifted him. He felt too light in my arms, his head lolling slightly against my chest.

The gasps grew louder.

The Prince’s eyes narrowed but there was something else there too—recognition.

He wouldn't dare challenge me, even if he was the most feared considering our past.

Maybe that was why he didn’t move to stop me.

Maybe that was why he let me carry Sam straight past him and out of the hall.

By the time I reached my car, Sam’s skin was clammy and pale, his breathing shallow. My wolf paced hard, a low growl curling in my chest every time I looked down at him. This wasn’t just a broken bond. Something was wrong. Something deeper.

I drove fast, one hand steadying him against me, the other gripping the wheel.

Halfway to my penthouse, I hit the speaker button. “Steve,” I barked.

“Yes, Alpha?”

“Get the healer. Now. Meet me at my place. It’s urgent.”

No questions. Just a quick, “Understood.”

The city lights blurred past as I pushed the car harder. Every breath Sam took sounded thinner than the last, each one stealing more of his strength. By the time I pulled into the underground garage, his head had dropped against my shoulder and I could barely feel the rise and fall of his chest.

I didn’t waste time. I slammed the door shut with my foot and took the elevator up with him still in my arms. When the doors opened, Steve was already there, his eyes widening at the sight of Sam but his mouth staying firmly shut.

“Where’s the healer?” I demanded.

“On the way,” Steve said, stepping aside as I carried Sam to the bedroom.

I laid him on the bed, my mind running calculations I didn’t want to be making. His breathing was ragged, his lips tinged faintly blue.

And just then

It stopped.

His chest stilled.

My wolf roared so loud inside me I nearly staggered.

“Sam,” I growled, grabbing his shoulder, shaking him hard. “Don’t you…”

Nothing.

Steve moved forward quickly, but I was already leaning down, my ear against his chest. Silence.

The healer wasn’t here yet.

And Sam—Sam wasn’t breathing.