CAINE
Grace's limp body fuels a new feeling, something old and unfamiliar. It's an emotion I haven't felt since I was a young pup, long before I came into strength and power.
Terror.
What is it? Fenris asks. He's been silent, politely blocking himself off from our intimacy, even when that rainbow-haired chit was banging on the door.
She's unconscious.
"Grace."
I shake her shoulder, the skin under my palm cool to the touch. Too cool.
"Grace, wake up."
Her head lolls as I jostle her, hair splaying across the pillow in bleached golden waves. Not a flutter of eyelashes, not a twitch. My stomach drops with dread.
"Grace!" My voice sharpens with command, an alpha's order.
Nothing. Just her pale face, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
What's wrong with her? Why isn't she waking?
Fenris explodes into panic, his howl ripping through my mind and air both. Strange voices join in, but they're the least of my worries.
