Chapter 38 Chapter 38
Ethan’s POV
Pain blossomed across my chest like fire, sharp and invasive, far beyond anything a normal wound would bring. My wolf instincts screamed at me, demanding that I heal, but something was wrong.
The healing pulse that usually surged through my body in seconds refused to respond. Jax was silent too. My lungs drew in ragged breaths, my heartbeat thundering like a drum in my ears, and it hit me then poison. The assailant had coated the dagger. My ability to recover naturally was being suppressed.
My vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting slightly as the stretcher jolted forward beneath me. Cold air brushed my skin, antiseptic and metal filling my senses as pressure burned deep in my chest where the wound had been hastily sealed. My mind went to instinct, to split-second calculations. If Sophia had not called my name in time, if I had turned even a fraction of a second later, the strike would have landed straight through my heart. The thought sent a surge of anger through the fear, fueling me despite the poison coursing through my veins.
Her cries echoed faintly in my ears, distant but unmistakable. Sophia. My Sophia. She had just woken from her injuries, from a car accident, and here she was, watching me bleed out in front of her.
The guilt hit harder than the pain itself. I had to stop panicking, stop letting my fear and fury bleed into her. She was fragile in that moment, and all I could do was let the doctors work. I forced myself to breathe, to calm the storm inside me, to let reason shove past instinct and rage. My body screamed at me to fight, to rise, to heal. But I had to hold it. To focus. Sophia needed me alive.
Between gasps for breath, memories of the call I had received earlier forced themselves into my mind. One of my informants, loyal and smart, had called just before the chaos: my assault at the jewelry shop had been reported to the Pack Alliance, the narrative spun in a way that painted me as reckless, violent, and unhinged. My anger had flared then, but I’d instructed the informant to maintain his vigilance, to keep eyes on the Alliance without intervening. I would deal with them later. Not now. Not when Sophia had finally woken up.
And then Max had come with unexpected news that made my teeth grit even harder: the house had been attacked, but he had quickly controlled the situation.
I could feel the threads pulling together, the invisible strings connecting the report to the pack alliance, the poison, the attempt on my home. Everything circled back to Marcus. Everything. And if I didn’t survive this, if I let myself slip now, I would lose the chance to prove it.
The doctors moved fast. The poison was flushed from my system, cold and burning all at once as it left my veins. I felt the drugs take hold, warm relief spreading through me as the immediate threat receded. But the anesthetic was already wearing thin, dizziness and nausea rolling in heavy waves. The ceiling lights blurred overhead as I was wheeled down the corridor. My eyelids grew heavy. My consciousness frayed, drifting at the edges like fog over dark water.
And then a familiar scent reached me, soft and comforting, unmistakably Sophia's.
My eyes fluttered open as her lips touched mine in a gentle, warming kiss. The sterile white walls peeled away, replaced by familiar paneled walls and muted gold detailing.
I was in my own bed, in my house, back in the quiet sanctuary that had always been ours.
I felt the rush of life returning to my body in waves as her lips pressed harder against mine her worry, and anxiety, literally melting away. Her hands on my chest calmed something within me, forcing my heartbeat into rhythm with hers. I was back. I was safe.
For a moment, I allowed myself to just be here, to feel her presence, to absorb the reality that she was alive, that I was alive, that we were together again.
“Ethan?” Her voice, breathless and trembling, pulled me back from the haze of pain and fear.
I blinked, still disoriented, trying to gauge the edges of the room. Max stepped in quietly, stopping at the doorway, eyes scanning, posture alert.
“He’s awake,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Did you catch him?” I croaked, my voice rough, still carrying the raw edges of the assault. Every word cost effort, every breath shallow but manageable.
Max shook his head, regret threading through his expression. “No, alpha. He was too fast. Too practiced. Whoever did this was trained, not some local, inexperienced assasin which means someone ordered it. But he’s gone, for now. We’re still tracking him though.”
“I bet it was Marcus,” Sophia whispered, her fingers caressing my face, her eyes distant. “He's trying to get back at us by taking you away from me.”
Her hand froze, her face hardening with anger. She turned to Max.
“Have you alerted the pack alliance about this attempted assassination?” she asked.
“Not yet. I was busy trying to catch the assailant…”
“Good,” she said, her tone clipped. “Keep it that way.”
Max shot me a skeptical look, about to argue with her, but I raised a hand to stop him. “Do whatever she says.”
He nodded quietly, waiting for her to give him her next orders. I watched Sophia, unsure of what she was planning next.
The burning rage in her eyes, the way her hands gripped my sheets as she rose to her feet I knew whatever it was, Marcus was going to regret his actions immensely.
“We can't accuse him of the assassination without any proof, especially not after the report of Ethan hitting him at the jewelry store. It'll make us look back,” she said, eyes flicking between me and Max. A cold smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
“But the same goes for them. They can't accuse us of what they have no proof of. Maybe… it's time we start paying back fire with fire.”