Liam’s POV
“We can’t lose her!” My voice was meant to be firm, commanding, but it betrayed me, cracking into a mere whisper. Logan lifted his gaze to meet mine, his expression shattered. His cheeks were damp, his eyes glassy. Seeing my older brother-my rock-fall apart sent a sharp ache through my chest.
“I’m so sorry, Liam. This is my fault,” he rasped, dragging his hands over his face as though he could scrub away his guilt. “Whatever this is, she’s going to be okay. She has to be. And when she wakes up, I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t reject you. You don’t deserve that.” His voice was raw with determination as he pushed himself off the floor and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.
“What are you even talking about? You didn’t make her pass out. Doc will figure it out, and we’ll deal with everything else once she’s better,” I told him, trying to ground us both.
“Come on, Liam! She was fine until that moment with Rowena-until she saw me for what I really am. She realized the Moon Goddess paired her with a complete failure, and it broke her. She fainted because she couldn’t bear the truth. And when she wakes up, she’ll still want nothing to do with me. But you? You deserve her. I won’t let you lose her too, I swear.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to insist we’d find a way through this, but before I could get a word out, the bedroom door swung open. Dr. Hawthorne stood there, her expression unreadable.
“She’s stable. Come in,” she said.
Logan and I moved as one, barely remembering to breathe as we followed her. The moment I stepped through the doorway, my gaze found her. My wolf stirred within me, pushing closer, desperate for a glimpse of our mate. Ghost and I needed to see her with our own eyes, to feel that she was still here.
I glanced over at Logan and saw the shift in his gaze-one hazel eye, one silver. Fang had surfaced, reaching for her as well. But the sight before us was anything but reassuring.
Dahlia lay motionless on the massive bed, her small frame swallowed by its size. She looked fragile-too still, too pale. Ghost whimpered, his unease intertwining with my own.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, my voice strained. “Why isn’t she waking up?”
“She’s been out for too long already,” Logan muttered, tension radiating from him.
Dr. Hawthorne hesitated before speaking, her voice measured but grim. “I have a diagnosis, but there’s no simple solution. Sit down so we can discuss it.”
Neither of us wanted to move far from Dahlia, so we dragged our chairs closer, keeping her in sight. Logan didn’t even sit, just leaned against the chair’s back like he’d collapse without it.
Dr. Hawthorne inhaled deeply, as if steadying herself. “I believe your mate-”
“Dahlia,” Logan cut in sharply. “Her name is Dahlia.”
She gave a brief nod before continuing. “I believe Dahlia is experiencing Rejection Fever.”
The words felt like a blow.
“I found no physical cause for her continued unconsciousness. Based on what you told me about your wolves’ connection, this is the only explanation that fits. It’s rare, but it happens when a mate’s bond is so strong that the wolf cannot bear the human’s attempt to sever it. The rejection-even just the thought of it-forces the wolf to withdraw. It’s as if they’re being ripped apart from the inside.”
My stomach twisted painfully. “What are you saying? What kind of damage are we talking about?”
“How do we fix it?” Logan demanded.
Dr. Hawthorne’s expression softened, but her words hit hard. “They’re both extremely vulnerable right now. When I examined her, I found no trace of her wolf. Either she’s too weak… or she didn’t survive the attempt to separate.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Ghost howled in my mind, his anguish slicing through me. He couldn’t feel her. And judging by Logan’s sudden movement-his rush to Dahlia’s side, his hand trembling as he touched her cheek-I knew Fang couldn’t either.
“She’s not gone,” Logan insisted, his voice thick with desperation. “I can still feel her, even if it’s faint. The sparks are there. That means she’s still here.”
“What do we do now?” My voice was barely a whisper.
Dr. Hawthorne hesitated before responding. “The only thing you can do is wait.”
Logan growled low in his throat, his frustration barely contained.
She remained calm, but I saw the brief flicker of unease before she continued. “If her wolf is still alive, Dahlia has a better chance of recovering. But her wolf needs strength. And the only way to regain it is through you-through your connection. The rejection is what triggered the fever. If she feels that the bond is still intact, it could help her heal.”
“How?” Logan demanded.
“If she can’t wake up, how do we make her feel safe?” I asked, feeling helpless.
Dr. Hawthorne’s gaze was steady. “Just because she isn’t responding doesn’t mean she can’t hear you. Or feel you.”
Logan looked skeptical. “So, what? We just sit here and talk to her?”
“It’s more than that. Stay close to her. Touch her when you can-skin to skin is best. The energy from your bond will help her wolf regain strength. One of you should be with her at all times, but ideally, both of you. If I’m right, the fact that she has two mates only amplifies the bond. Her wolf will need both of you.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s it?”
Dr. Hawthorne gave me a small, knowing look. “Never underestimate the power of a fated mate. The Moon Goddess designed us this way for a reason.” She straightened, gathering her things. “Stay with her tonight. Keep her fever down-cold rags should help, but if it spikes too high, you may need to put her in an ice bath. I’ll be back in the morning to check on her.”
“You’re leaving?” Logan’s voice wavered slightly, barely masking his fear.
“There’s nothing more I can do tonight,” she said gently. “Right now, you are what she needs. And if anything changes, I’m just a mind-link away.”
With that, she was gone, leaving Logan and me standing there, unsure of what to do next.
The silence stretched until, true to form, Logan did what he always did-used humor to mask the storm raging inside him.
“Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was hoping we’d get to sleep with her tonight. Guess I got my wish.”
“Too soon, Logan. Way too soon,” I muttered, shaking my head.
But despite the heaviness in my chest, for just a second, the suffocating tension eased. And as I turned back to Dahlia, I prayed she could feel us. That she knew we weren’t going anywhere.
Not now. Not ever.