CHAPTER 2

Kira'S POV.

I stood there long after the door shut. The echo of his boots faded down the corridor, but the tension stayed.

I pressed my palms against the desk, drawing a steady breath. Breathe, Kira.

Maya, my wolf, stirred immediately. Her warmth brushed against my thoughts, soft but firm.

“Are you really okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically. “He’s gone. That’s all.”

“You always say that,” Maya murmured, skeptical. “But your pulse says otherwise.”

I forced my shoulders to relax. “I’m fine,” I repeated, even though the lie burned on my tongue.

Then it happened.

 A rush of images struck like lightning as a vision hit me.

A trembling hand covered in blood. The metallic scent of iron and rain. Rough bark beneath pale fingers. Torn fabric. And a ring glinting faintly in the dim light.

My hand shot out, gripping the desk for balance.

“Kira?” Maya’s voice was sharp now, edged with concern.

“I—” My breath came short. “I’m fine. Just a stray vision.”

She wasn’t convinced. “It’s the same one, isn’t it? The one that keeps coming back.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “But it’s clearer this time. Closer.”

Another flash struck—

The same hand reaching out for help. Blood everywhere. A voice echoing faintly, then silence.

I gasped as the vision shattered, leaving my heart pounding.

“This one feels… different,” I said under my breath. “Stronger. Like it’s happening right before my eyes.”

Maya pressed closer in my mind. “Breathe, Kira. You’ve handled worse.”

But I wasn't so sure about that. Something about this vision has always felt different.

“Who is he?” Maya whispered.

Before I could answer, everything went black.

I jerked upright, breath ragged, the office snapping back into focus. My heart hammered in my chest.

Then the door burst open.

“Kira!” Erica’s voice cut through the fog. She stood in the doorway, breathless, eyes wide. “We need you—now! A man’s been brought in by the patrol. He’s barely breathing!”

I felt like I'd been hit by cold water. “Where?”

“This way!” she said, already turning.

I didn’t waste a second. The hallway blurred as we ran, everywhere was shouts and urgency. Maya stirred, tense. “Something’s wrong,” she growled.

I didn’t answer. My mind was racing too fast.

The moment Erica shoved open the double doors, the smell hit me, mud and blood, lots of it. Nurses crowded around a table, their hands stained red, moving in controlled chaos.

I pushed through them. My eyes locked on the man lying motionless under the lights—torn clothes, blood-soaked skin, chest rising weakly.

And then I saw it.

The ring. The same one from my vision, faint beneath the blood and mud.

My pulse roared in my ears.

It was him.

The man I’d seen before it happened.

This wasn’t a vision anymore.

It was real.

*******

The emergency room was chaos incarnate.

Shouts collided, trays clattered, and the scent of blood mixed with antiseptic. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I pushed through the noise until all I could see was the man bleeding out on the table.

“Move,” I ordered sharply. “Apply pressure—now. Erica, suction!”

The nurses obeyed instantly. My hands moved on instinct—steady with years of practice. I’d trained myself to separate emotion from duty. To stay calm. Detached.

But not this time.

Because the man before me shouldn’t have been real.

He belonged only in the visions that haunted me.

And yet here he was—flesh, blood, breath. Real.

“Pulse is weak,” one nurse called out. “He’s losing blood fast—”

“Not on my watch,” I snapped, pressing gauze firmly to the wound across his ribs. “Hold steady—there.”

His breathing hitched, shallow and ragged. His skin was icy to the touch, his body trembling beneath my hands. My eyes swept over him—fractured arm, torn muscles, deep lacerations. Whoever had done this hadn’t just attacked him.

They’d hunted him. Someone wanted this man dead.

“Scalpel,” I said.

Erica handed it over—but the moment I cut through his blood-soaked shirt, my blood froze.

“Kira…” Erica whispered, her voice faltering. “Look.”

The room stilled. Even the machines faded to the background.

Carved into his chest, just below the collarbone, was a blackened symbol—two crescent fangs curving inward to form a spiral of shadow.

The mark of the Midnight Fang Pack.

Air caught painfully in my lungs. I knew that symbol—not from rumor or records, but from memory.

From fire.

From screams.

From the night everything I loved was reduced to ash.

My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the table.

“Kira,” Erica murmured carefully. “Maybe we shouldn’t… he’s one of them.”

The nurses exchanged uneasy glances. One even took a step back, as though the mark itself might strike her.

Maya’s voice whispered in my head. “Don’t let fear decide. He’s dying. That’s all that matters right now.”

I swallowed hard. “He’s my patient, Erica. Not my enemy. Not while he’s on this table.”

Erica hesitated, then muttered under her breath, “You’re impossible.”

Maybe I was. But I wouldn’t let him die.

Not even if his kind had once burned my world to the ground.

“Clamp,” I said firmly. “We stop the internal bleeding first.”

Time blurred into motion. My gloves were soaked with blood. At one point, the monitor flatlined.

For a single, terrible moment, the world went still.

Then I slammed my palm against his chest. “Epinephrine—now!”

One second. Two.

Then—beep… beep… beep.

A weak pulse flickered back to life. Relief crashed through me. “Good. Keep him stable. Two-hour IVs, no breaks.”

Erica pressed down on a wound. “Pressure’s dropping again!”

“Hold it,” I said, swapping gauze. “We’re not losing him now.”

Minutes passed in tense silence—only the sound of machines and our own ragged breathing filled the air. Then came the commotion outside.

“Alpha, please! Dr. Kira said n

o visitors!”

That was Nurse Janice—her voice shaking.

A deeper voice answered, one that made my pulse stutter.

“Move aside, Nurse Janice. Now.” 

Alec.