Helena's POV
The Wildmane gates creak open as Patrick's SUV tears through them, gravel spraying beneath our tires. I had called Yannis during the drive, his voice turning deadly cold when I explained what happened. Now, as we barrel toward the pack house, that conversation haunts me. Melanie slumps against my shoulder, her breathing shallow and labored. Every pothole we hit makes her wince, and I tighten my grip around her trembling form.
Patrick slams the brakes in front of the main entrance. Yannis stands at the top of the stone steps, his massive frame rigid with barely contained fury. Asher hovers beside him, but his eyes refuse to meet mine. The mark he left on my neck pulses with each heartbeat, as if it's trying to drag me toward him.
"What happened?" Yannis's voice carries the dangerous edge of an Alpha pushed too far.
Patrick throws himself out of the driver's seat and rushes to my side. "She's losing too much blood. Where's Victor?"
