His Savage Devotion

Chapter 9

Caz

I came back to myself breathless.

The cold hit first—sharp against my skin, damp where dew clung to my fur. No… not my fur. Not anymore. I was on my knees, human, gasping for air like I’d just surfaced from drowning.

Angelus was gone.

Not gone, exactly. But… quiet. Drained. Folded so far into the background I could barely sense him.

I looked around the clearing. The moon had shifted since I first ran. The trees felt thinner now. Emptier.

But something lingered in the air—something electric, like the aftertaste of fate.

I could still feel her. The white wolf with eyes like dusk and sorrow. The one Angelus had touched like she was both memory and miracle.

My heart pounded as pieces of it came back—not words, not full thoughts, but impressions. Feelings.

He knew her.

No. He loved her.

And now he was gone.

“Angelus,” I whispered into the hush of the forest. “Talk to me.”

Silence.

I pressed my palm to the earth, grounding myself. My head dropped forward, and for a long time, I just breathed.

When I finally stood, every muscle in my body ached, but not from the run.

It was grief.

I didn’t understand it—not fully—but it clung to me like a second skin. Like I’d lost something I never had.

Or maybe, like I was finally close enough to touch something I wasn’t ready for.

Whatever happened tonight, Angelus had found her.

And now I didn’t know who I was without the pull of that connection.

Who was she?

And why did it feel like meeting her had just changed everything?

Taryn

The moment I got home from the run, I collapsed into bed, my limbs sore, my thoughts tangled. I didn’t even make it under the covers.

Sleep took me hard and fast.

And I dreamed...

A woman stood alone at the edge of a battlefield, her hands stained with blood that wasn’t her own.

Her dress—once cream-colored and delicate—was torn, smeared with ash and smoke. Her hair whipped around her face like a curtain of gold as the wind howled.

Then Everett appeared, limping, wounded. His arm clutched his side, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Don’t,” she whispered, backing away. “Please. Everett, don’t make me do this.”

“You already did, Juliet” he said. “You chose Koa. You chose him over us.”

Koa stood behind her, silent, steady, but his jaw clenched. He looked to Juliet like he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze.

“I had to,” she cried. “There was no peace without the alliance—no safety—”

“There’s no safety without you.” Everett's voice cracked. “You were mine.”

He dropped to his knees, and blood soaked through his shirt—slow, thick, final.

Juliet screamed.

I jolted upright, sweat slicking my skin, my heart pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

Before I could even process what I’d seen, there was a knock on the door.

“Heidi?” I called, still breathless.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she said, stepping in with a bag of snacks and her usual sunny smile. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”

I rubbed my face. “Felt more like a dream did the hitting.”

She tossed the bag on my bed and flopped down beside me. “I came by to tell you something interesting from med class. We were studying rare mate bonds and came across this case—two fated mates, separated during a battle. One got hit by an arrow. The other, miles away, collapsed with a matching injury. They couldn’t explain it.”

My breath caught. “Wolfsbane.”

“What?”

“That’s how I ended up in the hospital. I… I think I was infected because my mate was poisoned.” I said it softly, carefully, like the words might turn to smoke.

Heidi blinked. “Taryn—”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not directly. Not yet. But I’ve been having dreams. About a woman named Juliet. Her chosen mate was Koa. Her fated mate was Everett.”

Heidi sat up straighter. “Juliet… and Everett… those aren’t names I’ve come across in any known pack histories, but we can check the archives.”

“Will you go with me?” I asked.

She nodded. “Let’s find your ghost girl.”

The pack library was quiet, the air thick with old paper and forgotten secrets. We skimmed shelf after shelf—dusty books, yellowing scrolls, fragmented history texts. Nothing with those names. Nothing that felt right.

“I don’t think we’re going to find it in the obvious places,” Heidi murmured. “If something this bad happened, it was probably erased.”

I didn’t mean to wander so far from Heidi. But the scent stopped me cold.

Woodsmoke. Storm-soaked pine. A hint of something darker, hungrier.

I froze mid-step, my hand resting on a shelf of old treaties. That scent had branded itself into my memory the night I stepped into his hospital room.

Caz.

I turned—and there he was. Massive. Sharp-jawed. Half-shadowed between the history and bloodline sections, flipping through a book with a furrow between his brows.

I stared at him before I could think better of it.

He must have felt it—my eyes, or maybe the bond. He looked up, golden eyes meeting mine. A spark leapt in my chest.

Recognition didn’t dawn on his face. Just confusion.

He shut the book and tilted his head. “Do I know you?”

My heart stuttered. “I came to see you. In the hospital.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. “You were the one who smelled like—” He cut himself off. “Why?”

I stepped closer, keeping my voice even. “Because I had to. I felt you before I ever saw you. I dreamed of you. And then I woke up in pain from an injury I didn’t have—because you were stabbed with wolfsbane.”

His gaze sharpened. “Wait.” He took a step forward. “You were that girl?”

I nodded slowly. “Taryn. Taryn Leon.”

He went still. “Taryn,” he repeated, like tasting the name might trigger something inside him. “I didn’t even know your name. I’ve been trying to figure out how a stranger’s scent could calm my wolf—and then Angelus saw your wolf.”

“Stella,” I whispered.

He blinked. “Stella.”

My throat tightened. “She’s barely spoken to me since. She won’t tell me what happened in the woods. But she knew Angelus. Knew you.”

The silence between us thickened, humming with something bigger than words.

Then he asked, carefully, “You felt it, didn’t you?”

The pull. The ache. The way the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us.

I should have lied. Should have said no.

Instead, I said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.”

“No. It really doesn’t. Because I’m engaged. I have a chosen mate.”

Caz’s jaw clenched. “Chosen mates don’t make the bond disappear.”

“Fate doesn’t erase love!” I snapped. “You and I—we didn’t grow up together. We didn’t fight for this. Gavin did.”

“I didn’t ask for this either.” He stepped closer again, voice low and sharp. “But don’t stand there and pretend like you didn’t feel it.”

I turned to go, but he grabbed my wrist—firm but not cruel. “Taryn.”

I met his eyes.

His mouth crashed into mine.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t a question. It was a claim.

Possessive. Dominant. His hand slid to the back of my neck, anchoring me in place like his body already knew mine belonged to him.

I should’ve shoved him away.

But my lips opened against his. My fingers fisted in his shirt.

The bond flared—wild, electric, undeniable.

And I hated it.

I tore myself back with a gasp, staring at him like he’d just lit a match and dropped it between us.

“That—” I choked. “That should never have happened.”

His golden eyes burned. “You can lie to yourself. But don’t lie to me.”

I spun and walked out—this time, without looking back.