CHAPTER 206
GISELLE'S POV
The room spun, a sickening tilt of mahogany bookshelves and harsh light from Zarkhan’s desk lamp. Their voices—Zarkhan’s low growl, Hakkan’s clinical precision, Khuraan’s rough concern—blended into a buzzing drone in my ears. They were asking me things. So many things.
Are you hearing voices? Do you feel a cold spot inside? When did the strength start?
My mouth was dry, my tongue thick. I tried to form words, to deny it, to protect them from the terrifying truth I’d found at the mill. But the more they pushed, the more the power inside me writhed in response, a coiled serpent of heat and ice. It felt like my skull was too small. The pressure built behind my eyes.
“…just need to understand the scope, Giselle. A timeline.” Hakkan’s voice cut through.
I opened my mouth to say I’m fine, but a wave of dizziness crashed over me, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. The world tipped sideways. The last thing I saw was Zarkhan lunging forward, his face etched with panic.
Darkness. Then light. A soft surface beneath me—the leather couch in the study. I blinked, the room swimming into focus. Three faces hovered above me, impossibly close. Zarkhan knelt beside the couch, his hand gripping mine. Hakkan was on my other side, two fingers pressed to the pulse in my wrist. Khuraan stood behind them, his broad frame blocking the door, his green eyes burning into mine.
“Welcome back,” Hakkan murmured, but his voice held no warmth. It was the tone he used before delivering a difficult diagnosis.
“You passed out,” Zarkhan said, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. The gesture was tender, but his eyes were hard, demanding. “That’s not normal stress. Talk to us. Now.”
I tried to sit up, but a heavy weariness pinned me down. The truth felt like a stone on my chest. I shook my head, a feeble denial. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Don’t.” Khuraan’s single word was a command that vibrated through the room. He moved around the couch, coming to loom over me. “Don’t even think about lying. We know.”
My breath hitched. “Know what?”
“That you’re changing.” Hakkan released my wrist, his gaze piercing. “The fainting, the power surges, the emotional amplification… they’re not mate bond enhancements. They’re symptoms. We found the texts, Giselle. We spoke to Aris. The Blood Wraiths don’t just feed on bonds. They create conduits. They tether themselves to a source within the pack.”
Zarkhan’s grip on my hand tightened, almost painful. “We think they injected you. In the basement. A drop of their essence. It’s taking root. You’re not becoming one of them… not yet. But you’re on the path.”
The confirmation, from their mouths, shattered my last hope. A choked sound escaped me. I turned my face away, staring at the grain of the leather couch. They know. They see the monster in me.
“Look at me.” Zarkhan’s free hand cupped my cheek, forcing my gaze back to him. His expression was fierce, desperate. “Listen to me. We are never letting that happen. Do you understand? Never. We will find a cure. We will tear this territory apart, we will consult every elder, every forbidden archive. We will fix this.”
His promise was a beautiful, painful lie. I could hear the hollow echo in it. They were Alphas, warriors, healers. But this was ancient magic. This was a poison designed for the soul.
A bitter laugh bubbled up, raw and broken. “An empty promise,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You can’t find a cure for this. I already looked. The only way is to become an Omega. A wolf-less Omega.” I finally met his eyes, letting him see the depth of my despair. “It’s a brutal process. It strips everything. The bond, the wolf, me. I’d probably die from the shock anyway. But even if I lived… I’d be nothing. A shell.”
I pushed against his chest, finding a burst of that unnatural strength to sit up. The three of them shifted but didn’t back away. They surrounded me.
“So, you see?” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “I die either way. I die a monster who hurts you, or I die a hollow woman who can’t feel you. So let me go. Please. Just… let me find a quiet corner of the world to live out whatever time I have left. Away from you. Away from the kids.”
“No.” The word came from all three of them at once, a unified, thunderous rejection.
Zarkhan’s hands shot out, gripping my shoulders. “You are not leaving. You are not giving up. That is not an option.”
“It’s the only sane option!” I shouted, trying to shrug him off. His hands were like iron. “Can’t you see? I’m a danger to everyone! I felt it today—this rage, this power, it’s getting stronger. I could lose control at any second. You need to get the children away from me. Now. Send them to my mother’s, to another pack, anywhere.”
“Our children stay with their mother,” Hakkan stated, his voice cold with finality. “We protect them by protecting you.”
“You’re not protecting me, you’re imprisoning me!” The hysteria rose, tinged with that metallic taste of the invading power. It fed on my fear, my anger. It liked this.
“We’re saving you,” Khuraan growled. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, putting his face level with mine. His intensity was overwhelming. “Even if we have to chain you to this room. Even if we have to hold you down every night and pour our strength into you to fight it off. We are not letting you go. You are ours.”
The possessive, obsessive fire in his words should have frightened me. Instead, a treacherous heat flickered in my core. The part of me that was still Giselle, still their mate, craved that kind of desperate, all-consuming claim. Even now. Especially now.
“You’re being irrational,” I breathed, my defiance wavering.
“We’re being your mates,” Zarkhan corrected, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. One of his hands slid from my shoulder down my arm, leaving a trail of fire. “And you will stop pushing us away. You will stop trying to be noble. You will let us in.”
I shook my head, tears finally spilling over. “I can’t…”
Khuraan moved then. He leaned forward, closing the small distance between us. His large hand came up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He didn’t ask. He simply pulled me to him and covered my mouth with his.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was an apology, a brand, a reclamation. It was hard and demanding, his lips moving over mine with a possessive fury that stole the air from my lungs. A shocked whimper escaped me, swallowed by his mouth. I tasted salt—my tears or his, I didn’t know. The conflicting emotions—terror, despair, and that deep, instinctive need for my mates—collided inside me.
He broke the kiss as suddenly as he’d started, his forehead resting against mine. His breath was ragged. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick. “Sorry for scolding you. For scaring you. But I am not sorry for this. For keeping you. You are never leaving us.”
His words were a vow, sealing me to them. I was trembling, my lips tingling from the force of his kiss. Zarkhan’s hand was on my thigh now, a heavy, warm weight through the fabric of my jeans. Hakkan watched us, his sharp eyes missing nothing, his own desire a palpable heat in the close air.
The fight drained out of me, replaced by a weary, aching submission. They weren’t letting go. The path ahead was dark and terrifying, but I wouldn’t be walking it alone. They would be there, holding me, claiming me, fighting for me. Even if the thing they were fighting was slowly becoming a part of me.
I looked from Khuraan’s fierce gaze to Zarkhan’s possessive one, then to Hakkan’s calculating hunger. The fear was still there, a cold knot in my stomach. But beneath it, coiling alongside the foreign power, was something else. A dark, thrilling anticipation.
They promised to find a cure. But first, it seemed, they were determined to remind me exactly what I was fighting for.