The fourth night felt heavier than all the ones before it.
Heath stood just outside the ICU doors, staring through the glass as if he could will Rosalie to wake simply by refusing to look away. The machines around her hummed and blinked, steady but fragile... like everything else in his life right now.
Four days.
Four days of silence.
Four days of waiting.
Four days of wondering if each breath she took would be her last.
His chest ached in a way that no physical wound could ever match. It was deeper than pain... it was fear carved into bone, into soul.
Behind him, the pack house grounds were unusually alive.
Too alive. Too many footsteps. Too many voices.
At first, Heath hadn’t understood why. Until he stepped outside.
The entire pack had gathered.
Every wolf. Every family. Ever
