All Chapters of The Silver Wolf: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Callum heard the commotion before he fully understood what it meant.He was lying in a recovery bed three rooms down from the main treatment area, hishead wrapped in bandages, an IV drip feeding fluids into his system. The concussionhad been worse than the medics initially thought—a hairline skull fracture, possibleintracranial swelling, orders for complete bed rest and observation. But then he heard the voices.Urgent. Controlled. Panicked beneath the professional veneer."—temperature at 105.8 and climbing—" "—get the counteragent started now—""—heart rate is dangerously elevated—"Fiona. The realization hit him like a physical blow. They'd found her. They'd brought her back.And she was dying. Callum tried to sit up. Pain exploded through his skull—white-hot and blinding. His vision swam. The room tilted violently to the left. He didn't care.He swung his legs out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold tile floor. The IV stand rattledas he grabbed it for support."Prince Callum

Time became meaningless. Callum sat beside Fiona's bed, holding her hand, watching the monitors with desperate intensity. Her temperature fluctuated: 105.6... 105.4... 105.8... 105.5...It was moving, but not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. Her breathing remained rapid—short, shallow gasps that made her chest rise and fall too quickly. The oxygen mask fogged with each exhale. Her body was still fighting, still trying to regulate itself against the hormone burning through her system. The sweat kept coming. The nurses changed her hospital gown twice in the first hour, the fabric soaked through within minutes.Callum kept talking. He told her about the first time he'd seen her at the mating ball. How she'd been standing near the marble column, looking like she wanted to disappear into thewallpaper. How his wolf had recognized her immediately, even across the crowdedballroom. He told her how he'd followed her into the gardens. How he'd known—absolutely known—that she was his mate,

The first thing Fiona became aware of was the beeping. Steady. Rhythmic. Mechanical.Beep... beep... beep...Her eyelids felt heavy—impossibly heavy—like someone had weighted them down with stones. She tried to open them and managed only a flutter. Light filtered through her lashes, too bright, making her wince. Where was she?The cave. She'd been in the cave. Matthias had been there, and the rogue with thesyringe, and— Panic surged through her chest. Fiona's eyes snapped open.White ceiling. Fluorescent lights. The antiseptic smell of a medical facility.Not the cave. Not the darkness. Not the earth and dampness and fear.She tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her body—sharp and immediate. Her musclesscreamed in protest. Her head spun violently. "Easy." A hand—warm and familiar—pressed gently against her shoulder. "Don't try to move yet." Fiona's head turned. Callum.He was sitting in a chair beside her bed, his hand still resting on her shoulder. His otherhand was wrapped around

Fiona was still leaning against Callum, her temperature finally stabilizing, when thethought hit her like a physical blow. Ennis. Her brother. Wounded. Dying.She'd been so consumed by her own trauma—by the cave, by Matthias, by the horror ofwhat the Covenant had planned—that she'd almost forgotten. Ennis was here. In this clinic. Fighting for his life. And she could help him."Callum." Fiona pulled back, her eyes suddenly urgent. "Ennis. Where is he?"Callum's expression shifted to concern. "He's in surgery. The doctors are—""I need to see him." Fiona was already moving, trying to swing her legs off the bed."Fiona, wait—" Callum caught her arm. "You're still recovering. You need to rest.""I can heal him." The words came out fierce. Certain. "I'm a silver wolf. Healing is one ofmy gifts. I can save him." Callum stared at her. "You're sure?""Yes." Fiona's hands were shaking, but not from weakness. From urgency. Frompurpose. "I felt it when I healed myself after the shift. When

Ennis's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling, disoriented. Confused.Then his gaze found Fiona. She was standing beside his bed, supported by Callum, her hands still faintly glowing with residual silver light. Her red hair was wild around her shoulders. Her hospital gown was wrinkled and stained. She looked exhausted. She looked powerful."Fiona?" Ennis's voice was hoarse. Weak. But it was there. "Hey," Fiona said, and her voice broke on the word. "Hey, you're okay. You're going to be okay."Ennis tried to sit up. Pain lanced through his side—or at least, he expected pain. Butthere was nothing. No agony. No burning. No sense of his body tearing itself apart from the inside. He looked down at his torso. The bandage was gone. The wound was gone.All that remained was a thin silver scar. "What—" Ennis's hand moved to his side, his fingers tracing the scar. "How—" "Fiona healed you," Kieran said, moving to stand beside the bed. His hand gripped Ennis's shoulde