Chapter 2: Silver and Bonds

Grace

We have to shift back, I tell Mercy. Now!

I pull the shift, standing naked in the moonlight. The night air chills my skin, but adrenaline keeps me from feeling it. My medical training takes over as I approach the massive black wolf cautiously.

"Hey, big guy," I say softly, keeping my voice steady despite the urgency pounding in my veins. "I'm here to help you. I'm a doctor—well, almost. I know that trap has silver in it, and I know what it's doing to you."

His intelligent eyes track my movement, a low growl rumbling in his chest—not threatening, but pained.

"I know it hurts. But I need to get that trap off before the silver poisoning spreads further." I glance over my shoulder, listening for the returning wolves. "Your pursuers are coming back. We don't have much time."

A war rages inside me with every step I take toward him. Everything I've built—my education, my freedom, my carefully constructed life away from Pack politics—all of it endangered by this single encounter.

We could still run, a selfish voice whispers in my mind.

No, we can't, Mercy answers firmly. And you know it.

I kneel beside the massive wolf, my hands hovering over the trap. This close, I can see it's even worse than I thought. Military-grade silver alloy with wolfsbane-infused spikes—an Alpha-killer trap designed not just to maim but to ensure a slow, agonizing death.

"This is beyond wrong," I mutter, rage building inside me. "Silver traps are forbidden by Moon Council law. Someone really wants you dead."

The wolf's eyes flash with something like grim agreement.

"I'm going to release this trap, but I need to warn you—it's going to hurt worse than anything you've felt. The silver has fused with your tissue." I position my hands carefully, identifying the hidden secondary trigger. "And you cannot shift yet. The silver fragments could enter your bloodstream and reach your heart."

The wolf gives a small nod. He trusts me—a stranger. No, not a stranger. His Mate.

"On three," I say, bracing myself. "One... two... THREE!"

I press the release with all my strength. The trap springs open with a sickening squelch of releasing flesh. The wolf's entire body goes rigid, a strangled yelp escaping before he clamps down on it. Fresh blood gushes from the wound.

"I know, I know," I soothe, immediately examining the damage. "Stay with me."

The leg is shattered, bone fragments jutting at unnatural angles. Silver residue gleams in the wound, preventing healing.

"I need to clean this wound," I tell him urgently. "The silver will keep spreading otherwise."

A howl cuts through the night—closer now. They're returning.

"Shit," I hiss, looking between the wolf and the direction of the sound. "We're out of time."

The black wolf tries to stand, collapsing immediately, unable to put weight on his mangled leg.

"Don't be ridiculous," I snap, medical authority overriding everything else. "You can't run, and I can't carry you."

He looks at me, then towards the approaching wolves, then back at me. The message is clear: Leave. Save yourself.

"Not happening," I tell him firmly. "I didn't just risk everything to let you die now."

An overwhelming urge to protect him surges through me—so powerful it steals my breath.

It's Mate instinct, Mercy whispers. It's natural.

It's inconvenient, I shoot back, even as my hands work quickly to assess the wound.

"Listen to me," I tell the wolf, making a split-second decision. "You need to shift. It will be excruciating, but human form will be easier to move, and I need to get you somewhere safe to treat this properly."

His eyes widen slightly—questioning, uncertain.

"I know it goes against everything you've been taught about silver wounds. But I've studied this. Silver fragments spread faster in wolf form because of your heightened metabolism. Human form slows the spread. Trust me. I'm literally writing my dissertation on werewolf trauma medicine."

The wolf hesitates, then his body begins to contort. The shift is agonizingly slow, bones breaking and reforming with sickening sounds.

Where the wolf had been, a man now lies—tall, muscular, and covered in blood. His right leg is a mangled mess, but the bleeding has slowed slightly in human form, just as I predicted.

"Good, that's good," I encourage, trying not to stare at his naked form despite the jolt of attraction that shoots through me.

He's magnificent even in this state—powerfully built, with skin marked by numerous battle scars. His face is all sharp angles and strong jaw, framed by dark hair that falls just above his eyes—eyes that remain that same forest green with gold flecks.

"Can you speak?" I ask, looking for signs of shock.

He swallows hard, pain evident in every line of his face. "Yes," he manages, voice rough like gravel. "Thank you... for not running."

"Don't thank me yet," I murmur, glancing nervously toward the approaching sounds. "We need to move. My car's about two miles back. Can you stand if I help you?"

I loop his arm around my shoulders, acutely aware of our naked bodies pressed together, but too focused on survival to care about modesty. As I help him stand, the contact between us sends a current of electricity along my skin.

Our eyes meet, and for a frozen moment, everything else falls away. The pull between us is magnetic, visceral, undeniable.

"I feel it too," he says quietly.

"We can talk about that later," I reply, breaking the moment. "Right now, we need to get you treated and somewhere safe."

"Grace," I tell him, surprised at myself for offering my name. "I'm Grace Montgomery."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips despite the pain. "Ethan Silverback."

We make it barely fifty yards when the undergrowth ahead erupts with movement. Three wolves burst into view, immediately shifting to human form with impressive speed.

Their eyes take in the scene—me, naked and supporting an equally naked, bleeding man. The tallest of them steps forward, his muscular body tense with aggression, eyes narrowing as they focus on my face.

"Stop right there," he growls, voice heavy with authority and suspicion. His hand reaches toward a knife strapped to his thigh. "Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing with our Alpha?"