Chapter 6 Chapter 6

Lyric POV

When I arrive at the pack hospital, Dr. Grant doesn’t even ask questions, and that alone tells me how bad this has gotten, how used she’s become to seeing me like this. She cleans the wound and stitches me up. Although I am a werewolf, I haven’t shifted yet, so I still heal slowly—faster than a human, but slower than a shifted wolf.

She wraps my side and tells me to take it easy for the next two days until I’m halfway healed.

“Lyric honey, I know I promised you I wouldn’t say anything, but this is getting out of hand,” Dr. Grant says.

“Last month, it was a broken rib; the month before, a broken arm,” she adds softly.

Hearing it out loud makes it sound worse than it ever does in my head—and I hate that she’s right.

“Don’t worry, doc, I’m handling it. I have a plan,” I say, hopping off the table, even though the words feel thinner than they should.

“I hope it is before you lose your life,” she replies.

That lands harder than anything else she’s said.

“Don’t worry, I swear everything is fine,” I say, walking toward the door, because saying it out loud is the only way I can pretend it’s true.

When I step out, Winter is pacing outside the room.

“Are you okay?” she asks when she sees me.

“I’m fine; she said take it easy,” I reply.

Fine is easier than explaining. Fine is safer.

“Lyric, we have to talk about what happened,” Winter whispers urgently.

I look around before responding, once we step outside.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She just wants me to stay away from Mason. That should be easy—I’ve done it for the last eight years. What’s one more?” I say, shrugging, as I walk toward the packhouse, trying to make it sound simple when it doesn’t feel simple anymore.

“Lyric, did you see him at school today? Mason isn’t going to stay away from you,” she says, standing in front of me to block my path.

“Well, I don’t know what’s wrong with him; why now?” I ask, freezing as my brain answers my own question.

The realization doesn’t come slow—it hits all at once, heavy and undeniable.

“I’m his mate,” I say aloud.

The words feel wrong and right at the same time, like everything just shifted without warning.

“Oh my god. No. She’s going to kill me,” I whisper.

I look at Winter, feeling panic wash over me, fast and overwhelming, like I can’t get ahead of it.

“Calm down, Lyric,” Nova says.

“He’s our mate. She’s—she’s going to kill me,” I tell Nova.

My breathing quickens, and my vision starts to blur, the world tilting as the weight of it all crashes down at once.

“I can’t breathe,” I say.

I hear Winter’s voice, but it’s muffled, like I’m already slipping away from everything around me.

Suddenly, I feel myself calm down, like something reaches in and steadies me before I completely lose it, and as my vision clears, I say,

“Mason.”

His name leaves me before I can stop it, like my body recognizes him before my mind catches up

“Are you okay,” he asks “I’m fine” I say voice soft.

The sound of his voice settles something in me—and that scares me more than the panic did.

No.

I jump back from him as my brain finally catches up.

Reality slams back in, sharp and unforgiving.

“Thanks, but I have to go,” I say, rushing toward the packhouse.

“It’s going to be okay. Maybe she won’t find out,” Nova says.

“Who are you kidding? Did you see him today?” I snap at her, because pretending isn’t going to save me.

“I just need to stay away from him as much as possible for the next year, avoid Summer, and then reject him,” I tell her.

It sounds like a plan—but it already feels impossible.

Nova whimpers inside my mind, upset.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Nova, but she will destroy me if she finds out before my birthday next year,” I say.

And for the first time, that doesn’t feel like an exaggeration—it feels like a guarantee.

“We have to stay away from him,” I insist.

She whimpers more and retreats to the back of my mind, shutting me out.

Even she knows this isn’t going to be as simple as I’m making it sound.

She’s upset about her mate, but I know she understands why.

Mason POV

When Winter links me to come to the pack hospital because something is wrong with Lyric, my stomach drops, a sharp, immediate reaction I don’t even try to control. Kane forces the shift before I can even process it.

One second I’m thinking—next second I’m already moving.

When I arrive, they’re in the parking lot, and Lyric looks like she’s hyperventilating.

I hear her say she can’t breathe, and I shift back, running up to her, everything else fading out except her.

I cup her cheeks in my hands and tell her to calm down.

Eventually, her breathing evens out.

The second she steadies, something in me settles too—and I don’t like how connected that feels.

The way she says my name when she notices me takes my breath away and instantly gets me hard, the reaction immediate and impossible to ignore.

It seems she fully realizes it’s me standing in front of her, and she thanks me before running off.

And just like that, she’s gone again—and I feel it immediately.

I turn to Winter, eyes blazing, my aura slamming into her.

The shift is instant—from concern to anger so fast it barely feels controlled.

“What the hell were you doing here?” I say to her.

She bows her head in submission.

“Somebody stabbed Lyric at school today,” she grits out.

“What?” I growl.

The word barely contains what’s actually hitting me.

My body starts vibrating as I fight Kane for control.

Rage hits hard, fast, and deeper than it should.

“Who?” I grit out.

“I don’t know, alpha. She said she couldn’t see them,” she says.

“Find out,” I snarl, releasing her as I shift and run into the woods.

I don’t wait. Don’t think. Just move.

Who would do that to her?

Because whoever put their hands on her…

they didn’t just cross a line—

they just made themselves my problem.