Her death would’ve been his

“Calm down, Salem.”

“How do I calm down, huh?” Salem snapped, pacing back and forth like a storm trapped in a cage. “You don’t expect us to go on a mission to save the world because some old witch says so!”

Orson stared at his mate, frowning. In just twenty-four hours, Salem looked... smaller. The fire in his eyes still burned, but there was a shadow behind it now. His jaw was tight, his skin pale, like he hadn’t slept. Dark circles sat heavy under his eyes. His broad shoulders, once confident and relaxed, now twitched with tension.

Orson was frustrated too, but he was better at hiding it. Unlike Salem, who acted first and thought later.

Salem suddenly stopped pacing and turned to him. His eyes softened, but his voice trembled.

“And how can I share you with them?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t let that happen.”

Orson stepped closer, gently reaching for his hand. “Nobody is sharing anyone. No need to worry.” His tone was calm. Grounding. “I love you.”

Salem let out a tight breath. A dry laugh slipped from his lips as his chest rose and fell hard. He cupped Orson’s face, pulling their foreheads together.

“I love you so much... and I can’t afford to lose you. Do you understand?”

Orson nodded with a small smile. “Perhaps we could get to the tent... so I can fulfill my promise.” His breath was warm against Salem’s lips, his tone thick with need.

A growl escaped Salem’s throat, deep and rumbling. He leaned in, brushing his mouth over Orson’s throat, right on his mark. He kissed it slowly.

“You should both get a room.”

The voice startled them. Salem’s wolf surged close to the surface, growling louder.

“Who the hell stops my fun?” he barked.

“I’m sorry I did,” Curtis said, stepping forward with his hands raised in peace. His smile was tight. “I was hoping we could talk. In private, Alpha.”

“Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of Orson.”

Curtis glanced at Orson, whose arms were still wrapped around Salem’s waist. He gave them both a nod. “It concerns my girls.”

Salem's face hardened. “Look, just like I told them—I’m not getting involved in whatever bullshit that witch says.”

“I understand how you feel,” Curtis said gently. “Especially now. But think about the prophecy. It might be true. How else do you explain the bond?”

“You want me to believe that some ancient monster locked away in some dark hole is breaking free? And that I need to go with a bunch of strangers to a sacred island to stop it?”

Curtis chuckled awkwardly. “I know how it sounds but—”

“But what?” Salem cut in. “You know this is all crap. And the sooner you convince that witch to revoke the spell she placed on your girls, and all four of us, the better for all of us.”

Orson stayed quiet, but his chest was tight. Something inside him ached, even though he didn’t fully understand why.

Curtis’s face dropped. “I wish it was crap, Salem. Trust me, I do. But it isn’t. The darkness is coming... and it’s closer than you think.”

Without another word, Curtis turned and walked away.

Salem watched him go, his jaw clenched. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his body shaking.

“I think it’s time we leave this fucking island.”

By the time they got back to their tent, Salem was fuming. He stormed in, barking orders. “This damn party is over.”

“Salem...” Orson said gently.

He ignored him.

“Hey. Relax, please.” Orson grabbed his arm.

“I don’t need to relax!” Salem snapped, voice sharp. “What we need to do is leave. Now.”

Orson stared at him. “Okay. Say we leave. Then what?”

Salem froze, confused by the question. “We go back to our normal lives

But Orson turned away, voice low. “We can’t just leave... not like this.”

Salem swallowed hard. His fear started crawling up his spine.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly.

Orson faced him again, eyes meeting his.

“I mean... we shouldn’t make a hasty decision,” Orson whispered. “No matter how much we try to deny it, we feel the bond. To each and every one of them.”

Salem’s face twisted. “So you’re saying we believe the fucking prophecy? And then what? Let the Frost brothers fuck you while I’m stuck plowing the girls—just because they’re our mates?!”

Silence filled the tent. Their chests rose and fell, eyes burning.

Salem’s voice thundered again, “I won’t share you. Not now, not ever. We’re leaving and that’s final!”

He stormed out, slamming the flap behind him. His heart ached—not just for hurting Orson, but for the others too. Something inside him was ripping apart, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Alpha.”

He turned sharply. Steven, his cousin and pack warrior, stood behind him, arms crossed.

“What?!” Salem barked.

“Are we truly leaving?”

“Fuck no, not you too...” Salem frowned, voice low and tight. “I need a fucking break.”

Without another word, he turned and bolted into the woods behind the camp. His body shifted mid-run—bones cracking, black fur bursting through skin as his wolf took over. Massive and furious.

Branches snapped beneath his paws as he tore through the trees, running deeper and deeper until the sounds of the camp faded behind him. The wind slapped against his face, but it didn’t calm him. Nothing could.

He just needed space. To breathe. To think.

After a while, his pace slowed. The forest opened into a wide clearing. A lake shimmered ahead under the moonlight, still and quiet.

He stopped. Chest rising and ears twitching.

Then—a noise.

Something shifted in the trees. A sharp rustle.

His head snapped to the side.

Before he could react—

“Salem, behind you!!”

Her voice, it was Tara.

Then it hit him.

A huge force slammed into his side, knocking his wolf off balance. They both stumbled, crashing hard into the dirt. Snarling, Salem rolled and faced his attacker— A massive, bloodthirsty, snorting violent wild boar.

It charged again.

Salem dodged, but just barely. The girls’ scream from behind made him twist in time, claws scraping the ground as he met the beast head-on. Their bodies slammed into each other again, wild and savage.

Tara and Taylor had sneaked out for a swim near the mountain behind the woods. But the wild boar caught their scent. So they were hiding under the water, watching in fear as their mate fought for his life.

Salem growled, lunged—his wolf bit into the beast’s side, dragging it down. But the boar bucked hard, tossing him off. It struck back, ramming him against a tree. The crack of wood echoed. Salem whimpered but stood again.

The girls screamed louder.

“Salem!!” they cried out in unison.

Salem’s wolf staggered. Blood dripped from his side, but he pushed forward, locking eyes with the beast.

Then Tara, burst out from the water, completely naked. Her hair stuck to her skin, her chest rising in panic. She tried to shift, but her wolf didn’t come.

Still, she didn’t hesitate.

She grabbed a thick log from the ground, ran behind the beast, and slammed it across its back—once. Twice.

The boar turned to her with a furious squeal.

She ran. Its attention shifted and it chased her,

Taylor, still submerged, screamed her sister’s name, her voice breaking with panic.

Salem’s wolf shook the pain off and took off after them, muscles burning with fury. The trees whipped past him. Then he saw it.

The beast caught Tara.

With a loud grunt, it slammed her into a tree.

She dropped. Hard. Something in Salem broke.

His wolf let out a soundless snarl and launched forward. He tackled the boar, snapping down on its throat with brutal force. He bit down harder and harder, blood filling his mouth. The beast thrashed—but Salem didn’t let go.

He kept biting, tearing, until it stopped moving. Dead.

Panting, his eyes went to Tara. She wasn’t waking.

Taylor was already running to them, shouting, “Tara! Tara!” as she dropped beside her sister.

Salem shifted back, breath ragged. He crawled to Tara, heart pounding. “Tara...” he whispered.

But then a growl sounded behind them.

A grey wolf stepped out.

Beside it Amarok stood, eyes glowing with rage.

They ran to Tara.

“Hey Tara... hey, hey—fuck, she’s bleeding!” Amarok’s voice broke as he ran and knelt beside her, lifting her head into his hand. Blood stained her hair. His jacket quickly wrapped around her body.

Taylor sobbed, shaking beside them.

The grey wolf shifted, it was Geri. He didn’t wait. He walked up to Salem and without a word, punched him.

“That’s for allowing that to happen!” he snapped, pointing at Tara’s limp form.

Salem said nothing, still frozen.

Taylor stepped between them. “Enough of this, Geri! My sister, and your mate is hurt!”

Her voice cracked. Both men stilled. Their eyes moved to Tara again.

“She needs some medications,” Amarok said, his voice low and urgent. He lifted her gently, her head tucked against his chest.

At that moment, Curtis, Stone, Gary, and Orson arrived.

“What the fuck happened to her?!” Stone’s voice was panicked.

Amarok didn’t answer. He just carried her away.

“You should ask the big old gay man,” Geri muttered coldly, walking off after his brother.

Taylor gave Salem one last look, eyes shining with tears, then followed them.

Salem stood there, frozen in place.

Orson rushed to him and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, but Salem barely felt it.

Because in that moment, something was clear—

When the boar slammed into Tara, he’d felt it in his bones.

Her pain felt like his.

Her death would’ve been his.

And now... he finally understood.