His Savage Devotion

Chapter 7

Caz

I hadn’t seen the sun in days.

Even through the hospital window, it looked too bright—sharp against the soft blue sky, almost blinding. I blinked a few times, as if my eyes had forgotten how to register anything but fluorescent bulbs and the constant hum of medical machines.

The nurse double-checked my bandages, gave me a bag of pills I wouldn’t take, and told me to take it easy for a few more days.

Easy. Right.

I was an Alpha without a pack. A wolf without a voice.

Angelus was quiet. He was there, buried deep, curled into himself like a dying star. Recovering from the poison. From the loss.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs aching with the weight of something more than just recovery, when the door opened and Luna Stephanie stepped inside.

Blonde, polished, and utterly composed. Her scent was lavender and something sharper underneath—authority softened by grace.

“Alpha Erix,” she said warmly. “I hear you’re being released today.”

“That’s what they tell me,” I replied, managing to stand. “Though they look like they regret it.”

Her smile was kind. “We’ve prepared a room for you in the Alpha wing of the pack house. Temporary, of course. But comfortable.”

I raised a brow. “I’m not exactly a visiting dignitary.”

“You’re a guest. A wounded Alpha. That’s enough.”

She handed me a set of keys—brass and worn, like they belonged to someone important.

“And your people,” she continued, her tone shifting slightly, “have been granted a parcel of land to the north. Near the tree line. It’s not large, but it’s private and secure. A place to begin again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Luna.”

She tilted her head. “It wasn’t my decision. But I agreed with it.”

Her gaze softened.

“You’ve lost much. But you haven’t lost everything.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “Still… your hospitality means more than I can say.”

“Then don’t say it,” she replied, already turning for the door. “Earn it. Help your people rise.”

And just like that, she was gone.

The room in the Alpha wing was bigger than I expected—dark wood walls, leather chairs, a balcony that overlooked the forest. But I didn’t stay long.

I needed out. Out of the silence. Out of my skin.

I shifted at the edge of the forest, my bones cracking and reforming until Angelus took over. He was enormous. Black as night, with eyes like cold starlight—green, glowing with a quiet fury that never quite faded. He moved like a shadow stitched with power, silent and fast. Purposeful.

We ran.

The trees blurred, wind pulling through our fur, claws digging into the soft dirt as we sprinted past the last edge of the pack border and into the wilderness beyond.

He didn’t speak.

But he felt something.

Something was coming.

Something was close.

Taryn

The moment Gavin left, the house felt hollow.

I’d stood in the doorway until the car disappeared down the drive, then shut myself in my room before anyone could ask me how I was doing. I hated that question. I never had a real answer.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, fiddling with the necklace Gavin gave me years ago. A silver charm shaped like a crescent moon.

When my phone buzzed, I picked it up immediately.

“Heidi,” I said.

“Hey, sunshine. How’s post-hospital freedom?”

“Weird,” I admitted. “Quiet. Gavin’s gone.”

“Oh. Right. Alpha training, testosterone boot camp, all that.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah. That.”

We talked for a few minutes—normal stuff. School gossip, hospital drama, her new obsession with historical pack conflicts. I listened more than I spoke, grateful for the noise.

Then Stella stirred.

Run.

Her voice was a whisper in my head. But insistent.

Please. We need the forest. I need it.

I hesitated.

“I gotta go,” I told Heidi. “Stella’s being annoying.”

“Annoying wolf voice means run time. Go. I’ll check on you later.”

I hung up, changed quickly, and made my way toward the edge of the woods behind the house. The shift came easily—too easily—and soon I was on four paws, the world brighter, sharper.

Stella was lean and fast. Her fur was silvery white, almost iridescent when the sun hit it, with grey markings like smoke curling around her brown eyes. She moved like moonlight—quick, quiet, impossible to pin down.

She bolted, and I let her.

Trees whipped past us. Wind in our fur. The thrill of movement sank deep into our bones like we were shedding something heavy.

Then—a scent.

She skidded to a halt near a shallow creek, every muscle going taut.

Across the water, another wolf stood still as stone.

He was massive. Easily twice Stella’s size. Midnight black with a thick, glossy coat and eyes that glowed an unearthly shade of green. Power radiated from him in pulsing waves—quiet, coiled, and unmistakable.

And for one long moment, the world held its breath.

Flashback

The moon hung low, heavy and golden, casting its glow across a sprawling field of tall grass swaying in the wind like waves. A soft breeze stirred the air, rich with the scent of sage and something wilder—something ancient.

Juliet stood barefoot at the edge of the glade, her long dress the color of ash and snow. Her dark blonde hair, twisted loosely down her back, shimmered silver in the moonlight. Her hands trembled at her sides, clenched with restraint she no longer knew how to keep.

She heard him before she saw him. The low rumble of a growl, soft as thunder in the distance.

“Everett,” she whispered.

He stepped into the clearing like the night itself—broad-shouldered and tall, black hair falling loose around his face, green eyes glowing with restrained fury and aching devotion. His wolf, barely beneath the surface, paced just beneath his skin.

“You came,” he said.

“You knew I would,” she answered, swallowing the knot in her throat.

His voice cracked as he stepped closer. “Then don’t lie to me now, Juliet. Say it. Say you choose him, and I’ll walk away.”

She flinched. Not at the words. But at how much they cost him to speak.

“I… I have to,” she said. “Koa is—”

“Koa is your duty,” Everett cut in, voice low and dangerous. “Not your heart.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “My heart doesn’t matter. Not when our packs are on the brink of war.”

“We could end that war. Together,” he said, stepping closer, his hand brushing her arm. “You know what we are. You felt it the first time we touched. I’ve seen your wolf reach for mine.”

Juliet turned her face away, shame and longing twisting in her gut. “What we are doesn’t matter if it destroys everyone we love.”

“I would never let that happen.”

“You can’t promise that, Everett. No one can.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin with aching tenderness. “I would burn the world before I let it keep you from me.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch for one breath. One heartbeat.

Then pulled away.

“I’m marrying Koa in two days.”

Silence fell like snow.

Everett’s hands dropped to his sides. His chest rose and fell, his wolf snarling behind his eyes. “You’ll regret it,” he said softly. Not cruel. Not angry. Broken.

“I already do.”

The dream began to fade—his figure dissolving like smoke, the moonlight dimming, the breeze stilling.

And as everything turned to black, Juliet’s voice echoed like a prayer unfulfilled:

“I loved you in every life before this one, Everett. And I will in every one after.”