All Chapters of Shattered Mate Bond: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Shattered Mate Bond Father and SonJace's POV The physical therapy room in the pack hospital smelled like antiseptic and determination, though mostly it smelled like my father's frustrated pride. I stood in the doorway watching him work with the therapist—a patient woman named Sarah who'd been dealing with Dad's stubbornness for two weeks now—as he struggled to maintain his balance while taking steps between the parallel bars. His legs shook with the effort, sweat beading on his forehead despite the room's careful climate control. Every muscle in his body was tensed with concentration, and I could see the fierce determination in his eyes that had made him one of the most respected Alphas in the region. But I could also see the fear underneath. The uncertainty about whether he'd ever fully recover, whether he'd be able to resume his role as Alpha, whether this injury had fundamentally changed who he was. "Ten steps today, Alpha Storm," Sarah said encouragingly. "That's three more

Shattered Mate Bond Strategic Alliances Grace's POV The intelligence report landed on my desk at exactly 7:43 AM, disrupting what had been a reasonably peaceful morning of reviewing pack finances and pretending I wasn't counting down the days until I'd see Jace again. Connor's contact in the eastern territories had uncovered bank transfers, communications intercepts, and travel patterns that painted a disturbing picture. Amber Blackwood was hiring again. Not just any mercenaries this time, but specialists with terrifying reputations. "Volkov hunters," I read aloud, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Estimated team of five, ninety-three percent success rate against supernatural targets, known for extreme methods and zero moral limitations." My wolf paced restlessly in my chest, recognizing the escalation for what it was. Amber wasn't just trying to eliminate us anymore—she was bringing in the kind of force that had toppled entire packs. The kind that didn't stop until their

Shattered Mate Bond Acceptance Jace's POV I found Dad in his room rather than the therapy suite, which immediately told me his conversation with the physical therapist hadn't gone well. He was sitting by the window in his wheelchair, staring out at the pack territory with the kind of intense focus that usually meant he was working through a complex problem. "Connor said you needed to see me urgently," I said, closing the door behind me for privacy. "Everything okay with your recovery?" "My legs are fine. Well, they're improving," Dad replied without turning from the window. "But that's not why I called you here. Marcus Silver contacted me an hour ago. Told me about the merger proposal and the Volkov situation." I shouldn't have been surprised that Marcus had reached out directly to Dad rather than waiting for me to brief him. Alphas of their generation tended to handle major negotiations themselves, especially something of this magnitude. "I was planning to discuss it with you

Shattered Mate Bond Waiting for Dawn Grace's POV My hands were still covered in Jace's blood. I'd washed them three times in the hospital bathroom, scrubbing until my skin was raw, but I could still see it. Still feel the warmth of it soaking through my fingers as I'd pressed desperately against his wounds, trying to keep him alive long enough for the medical team to arrive. *He took a knife meant for me. A bullet meant for me.* The thought kept circling through my mind like a curse as I paced the surgical waiting room, my wolf howling with distress that I could barely contain. Four hours. Four hours since they'd wheeled him away, his face gray with blood loss and silver poisoning, his last words to me lost in the chaos of emergency medical response. "Grace." Grandfather's voice cut through my spiraling panic. He'd arrived an hour ago, summoned by Connor, and had been trying to get me to sit down, to rest, to do anything other than pace and bleed anxiety into the stale hos

Shattered Mate Bond Coming Home Grace's POV I was in the middle of explaining the new patrol rotations when I felt it—the smallest movement of his fingers against mine. So slight I almost convinced myself I'd imagined it, that five days of desperate hope had finally made me start hallucinating responses that weren't there. Then came the grunt. Soft, rough, unmistakably real. My head snapped up from where I'd been resting it against our joined hands, and I saw his eyelids flutter. Not opening yet, but moving with the kind of restless motion that suggested consciousness rising toward the surface. "Jace?" My voice came out strangled, thick with emotion. "Jace, can you hear me?" Another soft sound escaped his throat, and his fingers twitched again—more deliberately this time. Like he was trying to squeeze my hand but didn't quite have the strength yet. "Dr. Martinez!" I called out, not taking my eyes off Jace's face. "He's waking up!" Tears were already streaming down my cheeks,