Chapter Text
Werewolves walk among humans.
And not just wolves, there are others. Bears with the strength to crush stone, sleek cat-shifters with eyes that gleam like lanterns in the dark, fox spirits who slip through shadows like whispers, and eagles whose wings span farther than a man’s reach. They are scattered across every city, every country, every continent, blended seamlessly into modern society. Teachers, soldiers, athletes, artists, farmers, CEOs.
To human eyes, they are nothing more than ordinary people. But beneath the surface lies something primal, ancient, and untamed.
Humans cannot sense them. No amount of intuition or technology can reveal what they are. But to a shifter, the scent of another is unmistakable. It lives in their blood, etched into their instincts. No matter how far apart they are raised, no matter how long they live among humans, they always recognize their own.
Yet not all species trust each other and fewer still trust humans. Centuries ago, long before cities rose from stone and steel, there was a war. Humans, fearing what they could not understand, hunted the shifters. Villages burned. Blood soaked the rivers. Entire lineages vanished in the fire. It took decades of retreat and silence before the survivors learned to live in the shadows.
Some packs and clans are small and quiet, hidden in forests or mountain villages. Others have adapted to the noise of human cities, creating networks, alliances, and silent rules that govern the balance between two worlds.
Because while humans have long since forgotten the tragedy of that age, the shifters never will.
And then, there are places like the Midnight Tide Pack, remote, nestled between black-stone cliffs and deep pine forest, far from human roads. Their training grounds stretch across flat clearings where the young are honed for battle, discipline, and control. Here, wolves run alongside lynx-born warriors, sparring with bear-clan brutes under the watchful eyes of elders who still remember the war.
Most children in the pack had an idea of who they’d be by the time they turned twelve. By that age, they could already sense their secondary gender or rank, as if the world had a place carved out for them, a place they could step into with certainty. Presenting was like a rite of passage, a clear marker that guided their place in the world, whether they’d be an alpha, a beta, or an omega. It was a time of excitement, of figuring out who they were meant to be, of shifting into the wolves and embracing their power. Their scent would change, their bodies would shift, and they would know exactly what their future would hold.
But for Max, things hadn’t turned out so neatly. There was no clear marker for him. He had grown up with the belief that he'd present as one of the strong, powerful alphas like his father, Jos, or perhaps a beta, but no one could have prepared him for the confusion he felt when his twelfth birthday passed with no shift, no change, no clue.
He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t feel the pull of the wolf inside him, and even worse, he couldn’t shift, couldn’t turn into the beast that was supposed to be his second nature. People looked at him, waiting for something to happen, but it never did. The uncertainty gnawed at him, the weight of not knowing who or what he truly was hanging over him like a storm cloud.
Max spent those years in a limbo, doing everything expected of him, training, fighting, working to prove himself. But no matter how strong he became, how hard he fought, the question of who he was, what he was, always lingered. He was still a boy in the eyes of the pack, one whose future was anything but certain.
Now at twenty-two, he still didn’t know what he was, whether he’d end up as an alpha, beta, or omega. His stature alone often made others assume he’d be an alpha. He stood well above the average height, broad-shouldered and muscled from years of rigorous training and duty in the warrior ranks. His skin, often kissed by the sun, turned a deep red when exposed for too long, lending him a rugged, earthy look that made him stand out. Max’s eyes, a piercing shade of blue, carried a sharpness that gave others pause, as if he were always looking right through them.
But his appearance only served to frustrate his father, Jos, who could hardly stand the fact that Max was well-liked in the pack. Jos had made no secret of his belief that Max didn’t belong, always finding something to criticize. Jos hated that, despite his clear disdain, others found ways to befriend Max. They saw his potential, his strength.
To them, Max was a natural warrior. To Jos, he was a disappointment.
“Max, I don’t know why you insist on wasting everyone’s time,” Jos said, his voice thick with contempt as they passed each other after training. “You’re just playing pretend, trying to be something you’re not.”
Max’s jaw tightened. “I’m doing my duty like everyone else. I pull my weight.”
“‘Pull your weight’,” Jos mimicked mockingly, narrowing his eyes. “If you were really doing that, you’d have presented by now. You’re dragging down everyone around you.”
It was a cutting reminder of how, to his father, he would never be enough.
“I know my role, Dad,” Max said quietly, glancing away from his father’s glare. But Jos reached out, grabbing his arm and forcing him to look up. His fingers dug into Max’s skin, where the sun had left it raw from a day’s work under its heat.
“Listen here,” Jos hissed. “I don’t care if others have sympathy for you. In fact, I hate it. If they knew what was best, they’d stay away from you altogether.”
Max pulled his arm free, looking his father squarely in the eyes. “You don’t get to decide who respects me,” he replied, his voice low but firm. Jos let out a humourless laugh. “We’ll see how long that respect lasts.”
Jos stalked off, leaving Max standing in the training yard, his skin smarting from both the day’s sun and his father’s rough grip. His heart was heavy, as it always was after one of these encounters. He might have had friends in the pack and a strong reputation as a warrior, but he felt the weight of his father’s words, every single one of them, lingering in the back of his mind.
Max knew that respect was hard-won, especially in a pack that valued strength and certainty above all else. He just didn’t know how much longer he could keep fighting to earn it.
It happened one afternoon, Max had been watching the sparring match in the clearing, his sharp eyes scanning every movement as the warriors went head-to-head in a display of strength and skill. The sound of fists connecting, the rhythm of bodies moving in fluid combat, was a familiar one that Max had grown used to, after all, he was a warrior himself. But as he stood there, arms crossed, his gaze lingering on the fighters, something shifted in the air. It wasn’t the sound of the match or the heat of the day, it was something else, something far more subtle, yet undeniable.
Max’s nose twitched, catching a strange scent in the breeze. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unfamiliar, and it immediately drew his attention. He frowned, looking around as if expecting someone new to step into the clearing. But no one had entered. It wasn’t until he turned his head slightly, his focus sharpening, that he saw him, Aiden, walking toward the sparring circle with a purposeful stride, his eyes on the fighters but something else in the air between them.
Max’s heart skipped a beat as their gazes locked from across the clearing. The sensation was sudden, sharp, like an electric current jolting through his body. His pulse quickened, and he felt something deep inside him stir, an almost primal recognition that made his chest tighten. He didn’t understand it, but he couldn’t deny it. Something inside him was responding to Aiden, something that had been dormant, hidden beneath layers of confusion, suddenly woke up, and it was pulling him toward the Alpha’s son.
But the moment that recognition hit, Aiden froze. His steps faltered, his eyes widening for just a second, before his face went hard. The transformation was swift, his expression shifted from that of a focused heir to one of shock, then something much colder, much more distant. Max saw the flicker of revulsion in Aiden’s eyes before he quickly masked it behind a cold, unreadable expression.
Max’s chest tightened. He wasn’t sure what was happening. This wasn’t the typical reaction he had seen from others when they met someone who might be their mate. The scent, the one that lingered in the air around Aiden, had stirred something in Max, but Aiden? Aiden’s scent was different, and Max couldn’t place it at first, though it was warm and slightly smoky, like a forest after a storm. It wasn’t until Aiden closed the distance between them, his presence so strong, so commanding, that Max felt the full force of the connection.
In the world of their pack, it wasn’t just about the physical. It wasn’t just the warmth of the other’s scent or the way their bodies reacted to each other. There were other signs. The way time seemed to slow when they were near, the way their hearts seemed to beat in rhythm, the overwhelming sense of needing to be closer, of needing to reach out. It was a pull that was deep, an unexplainable connection that went beyond reason, beyond explanation. It was the bond of mates.
Max had heard the stories, the whispers of how a true mate could be recognized. Some said it was the way their heart would race when they were close. Others spoke of the sudden heat that rose in their skin, the almost magnetic force that drew them toward the other. There was always the scent, the deep, alluring scent that no one could mistake once it had hit them. And Max was feeling it all. The warmth that spread through his chest, the quickening of his pulse, the sharpness of his breath, it was all leading him to one undeniable conclusion.
Aiden was his mate.
But as quickly as that realization hit, it was shattered by Aiden’s reaction, the coldness that replaced whatever faint recognition had briefly flickered in his eyes. Max stood frozen, the pain of that rejection crashing into him like a wave, a wave that threatened to drown him before he could even understand what had just begun.
But as Aiden’s eyes fell on Max, that proud, confident expression twisted, a look of horror distorting the features that seemed chiselled in stone just a moment ago. The coldness in his gaze sharpened, his mouth forming a hard line as he took in the sight of Max with what could only be described as utter revulsion.
Their eyes met, and Max’s pulse hammered against his ribs. He couldn’t understand the feeling, this magnetic pull toward Aiden that took root in him almost immediately. But before he could make sense of it, Aiden’s expression twisted into shock, then horror.
Aiden came to a stop before him, his shoulders squared, his stance unyielding. Max couldn’t tear his gaze away, caught between the overwhelming desire to retreat and the desperate need to reach for whatever force had bound him to Aiden.
Aiden’s lips parted, but the words that came out were like ice. “No,” he said, his voice low but firm. “This can’t be happening. You... you're not my mate.”
"No, no! It can’t be you, Max!" Aiden’s voice rang out, loud and clear, stopping the crowd. Heads turned, eyes focusing on Max with a mixture of disbelief and judgment. Max’s mouth opened, but no words came. All he could do was stand there, exposed under the weight of Aiden’s rejection. He felt every stare, every silent question cast upon him as they looked at him like an intruder in his own skin.
Aiden’s face contorted, his tone laced with disgust. “You… you’re supposed to be a fighter, a warrior. Not this… There’s no way someone like you could be my mate.” He spat the last word like a curse.
Max’s hands balled into fists, his heart sinking as he took in Aiden’s words. "I didn’t choose this," he replied, his voice low, struggling to keep his composure. "I didn’t ask for this bond."
But Aiden’s expression only grew colder. He stepped closer, his eyes blazing with something fierce and unforgiving. "You think I’d ever accept you?" he sneered, his voice barely a whisper but sharp enough to cut. "If this bond is real, then I want nothing to do with it. I’ll break it before it even starts."
Max felt the blood drain from his face. "What… what are you saying?"
Aiden didn’t respond. Instead, in one swift, calculated move, he reached down and drew a dagger from his belt, the one symbolizing loyalty to the pack and to its sacred traditions. With his eyes locked on Max, Aiden brought the dagger to his hand, slicing across his palm, letting blood drip onto the earth between them. His lips curled in a bitter smile as he let the blood fall.
"I, Aiden Horner, reject you, Max Verstappen, as my mate. I sever this bond in front of the Midnight Tide Pack."
Aiden, the Alpha’s son, rejected him.
Rejected him.
A stunned silence filled the air as gasps rippled through the crowd. Max staggered, the force of the rejection hitting him like a physical blow, his chest tightening painfully as if the bond were tearing itself from his heart.
The murmurs of the crowd only intensified the sting, their eyes piercing him with judgment and pity, their whispers like daggers against his already shredded heart. Aiden rejecting him in front of everyone. But it was the silence that followed that hurt the most, the crushing weight of their collective disbelief, their astonishment at the impossible.
Aiden stood tall, his eyes cold and unwavering as he faced Max, his shoulders tense, hands clenched. There was no softness in his gaze, no sign of the warmth Max had hoped for. Instead, the Alpha’s son stood before him like a wall, strong and unyielding, the scent of his dominance almost overwhelming.
Max took a step back, the pull of the bond still trying to drag him closer, but Aiden’s cold rejection held him at bay. The weight of the words, not my mate, crushed him in ways he couldn’t explain. How could Aiden not feel it? How could the Alpha reject his own bond? It didn’t make sense.
Max’s vision blurred, the edges of his sight darkening as he fought to stay upright. His legs trembled, barely holding him, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, as if his very essence was being drained away. The rejection wasn’t just emotional, it felt physical, like his life force was being slowly siphoned out. The pack, his pack, was turning away from him, and with every second, the pain in his chest deepened, an unbearable ache that spread to his bones.
Jean, a trusted warrior and one of the pack’s most loyal members, had already turned on his heel, racing toward the pack house to find Christian. Jean’s heart pounded, and worry knotted his chest as he moved, his loyalty to the Alpha and his packmates driving him to act quickly.
When he finally reached Christian, who was in his office, Jean burst through the door without hesitation. "Alpha," he gasped, catching his breath, “You need to come quickly. It’s Aiden, he’s done something… something terrible to Max.”
Christian’s eyes widened, and without a word, he pushed past Jean, moving quickly toward the training grounds. As they arrived, the scene that met them was a disturbing one. Max, visibly weakened, swayed in the centre of a silent crowd, his face pale and his breathing shallow. His hand hovered in the air, as if trying to reach for something, but it was clear he was too unsteady to stay upright much longer.
Christian’s gaze snapped to Aiden, who stood in front of Max, his face an unreadable mask. A streak of blood dripped from Aiden’s hand, evidence of the rejected bond ritual, staining the earth below.
Christian’s voice rang out, fierce and unyielding. "Aiden!" he bellowed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. He stepped toward his son, his expression hard. “What have you done?”
Aiden lifted his chin, defiance flashing in his eyes, though he said nothing. Christian took another step closer, his voice lowering but no less severe. “Do you understand the consequences of rejecting a bond, especially in such a public, disgraceful manner?”
“It wasn’t my choice to be bonded to him,” Aiden replied, his voice cold, almost detached. “I don’t want it, and I don’t need him.”
Christian’s eyes hardened. “The bond chooses for a reason, Aiden. It is sacred, binding, and yet you severed it in front of the pack, with no thought for its sanctity or for Max’s wellbeing.”
Aiden’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking back to Max for a moment before he looked away, his expression unyielding. "I won’t accept him, Father. I refuse.”
Christian let out a slow, frustrated breath, fighting to keep his composure. “What you refuse, Aiden, is tradition, honour, and respect for our pack and its ways,” he said, his voice cold. “And in doing so, you’ve not only shamed yourself but placed Max in a position of undeserved humiliation. Your actions have severe consequences, ones you may not yet understand.”
Max’s legs finally gave out, and he crumpled to the ground, his knees hitting the dirt with a sickening thud. His breath came in short, painful gasps, his entire being wracked with the agony of rejection. The ground beneath him felt cold and unforgiving, like it, too, had turned its back on him.
Christian finally turned to Jean, his eyes full of regret and worry. “Help Max. Take him recovery room.”
Jean nodded immediately, stepping forward to Max, who barely managed to meet his eyes. Christian looked once more at his son, disappointment heavy in his gaze.
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before delivering the final blow. “There is no way I would ever give you the Alpha position when you’ve shown such weakness. How can I trust someone to lead when they’ve abandoned the very foundation of our pack, the bond that holds us together?”
Aiden flinched, but Christian’s glare never wavered. “You’ve failed, Aiden. And this failure will not go unpunished.”
Aiden’s chest heaved, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he didn’t dare meet his father’s gaze. The weight of Christian’s words pressed down on him, crushing any remnants of defiance. His breath came shallow, his mind racing for a way out, a way to undo what had been done. But the truth was, he couldn’t. There was no going back now.
Christian’s gaze never softened. “You’ve broken the most sacred rule of our kind, Aiden. You’ve abandoned your mate. You’ve rejected Max publicly, in front of the pack. And for what? Because he doesn’t fit the mold you’ve created in your mind?” His voice rose, growing more forceful with every word. “You think you’re above tradition, above the bond that ties us all together? You think your pride matters more than the future of this pack? You are not the leader I thought you were.”
Aiden’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His throat tightened with the weight of his father’s disappointment. The Alpha, the very man who had raised him, who had trained him to lead, was now questioning everything he had believed about himself.
“You think you’re strong, Aiden?” Christian continued, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “Strength is not in rejecting what is given to you. It’s in embracing it, in accepting the weight of the responsibilities that come with this life.” He stepped closer, towering over his son. “You may be blood of my blood, but strength is earned. And you, Aiden, have proven you are not yet worthy.”
Aiden stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. The words stung more than he cared to admit, but deep down, he knew they were true. He had failed. Not just Max, but his entire pack. And in doing so, he had fractured the trust that bound them together.
Christian turned away, the weight of the moment heavy between them. “I will not allow you to lead this pack until you understand the full extent of what you’ve done. You’ve lost my trust, Aiden. And until you prove otherwise, the position of Alpha is not yours.”
The finality in his father’s voice cut deeper than anything Aiden had ever felt before. He was no longer just the Alpha’s son. He was a failure.
Jean guided Max carefully to the recovery room, his arm wrapped firmly around Max’s shoulders to support him as they moved through the winding hallways. Max’s face was pale, his breaths shallow, each step seeming to drain more of his strength. By the time they reached the medical room, Jean’s heart felt heavy, seeing just how deeply Aiden’s rejection had affected Max.
As they entered, Sebastian, one of the pack’s most skilled doctors and one of Max’s closest friends, looked up from his work, his eyes widening at the sight before him. He quickly stood, his expression shifting to alarm as he took in Max’s weakened form, the dullness in his normally vibrant eyes.
“Max, what happened to you?” Sebastian breathed, rushing forward to help Jean settle Max onto the examination bed. His hands were already moving, checking Max’s pulse, his temperature, assessing every visible injury and every sign of distress.
Jean’s face was tight with anger and concern. “Aiden rejected him. Publicly. Cut their bond right in front of everyone.”
Sebastian’s eyes flashed with a mixture of fury and heartbreak as he took in Jean’s words. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice laced with barely suppressed anger. “Rejecting a bond can be deadly, and he did it so carelessly.” He muttered a curse under his breath, his hands hovering gently over Max’s forehead. “Max, can you hear me?”
Max’s eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on Sebastian. “Seb…” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “Feels… feels like something’s missing… it hurts.” His voice was weak, like he was struggling to hold himself together.
Sebastian’s jaw clenched as he took Max’s hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know, Max. It’s the broken bond, it can tear you apart from the inside. But you’re strong, okay? You’ve been through so much already, and you’ll get through this, too.”
Sebastian’s voice softened, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t deserve this, Max. None of this. Aiden… he doesn’t see what’s right in front of him. But you’re not alone.”
Sebastian turned to Jean, his expression dark. “We need to let Christian know how severe this is,” he said, his voice low. “Max needs more than just time to heal. He needs someone to fight for him, especially after what Aiden’s done.”
Jean nodded grimly. “Christian’s already furious. He made it clear Aiden’s actions won’t go without consequence.” With a heavy sigh, Jean stepped toward the door, casting one last look at Sebastian before leaving the room. The weight of their conversation hung in the air as he exited, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.
The door to the recovery room flew open with a bang, and Daniel rushed in, his face pale with panic and his eyes wide with worry. His usually steady composure was shattered, replaced by pure, unfiltered fear as he took in the sight of Max lying pale and weakened on the bed. He pushed past Jean, barely noticing anyone else in the room, his attention fixed solely on Max.
“Max,” Daniel’s voice was thick with worry as he hurried to his friend’s side, his hand immediately reaching out to clasp Max’s, squeezing it tightly as though trying to transfer some of his own strength. “What happened? I heard, someone said,” His voice faltered, his gaze darting between Max’s face and the concern etched in Sebastian’s expression.
Sebastian placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, his tone calm but heavy. “Aiden rejected the bond,” he explained quietly, not wanting to cause Max any more distress. “It was… public, and it’s taken a serious toll on Max. He’s in a lot of pain right now.”
Daniel’s eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow as he looked back at Max, his hand tightening around his friend’s. “Max, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “This isn’t right. You didn’t deserve any of this.” He leaned closer, his voice fierce but tender. “We’re here for you, okay? You’re not alone.”
Max’s eyelids fluttered, barely lifting, but he managed to give Daniel a faint, grateful look. His lips trembled as he whispered, “Daniel… It hurts… so much…” His voice was small, as though even speaking took all his energy. The pain from the severed bond was unbearable, each breath like a dagger lodged deep in his chest.
Daniel’s face twisted in agony, unable to mask the pain that was evident in his eyes. A tear slipped down his cheek as he brushed his hand softly over Max’s forehead, trying to comfort him. "I know, mate," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I’m here, Seb’s here. We’re not going anywhere. We’ll get you through this."
Max’s eyes welled with tears, and despite his best efforts, they fell freely, streaming down his pale cheeks. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable, broke something deep inside Daniel. He bit his lip to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape, his own chest tightening as he watched his best friend suffer.
Sebastian, equally affected, moved closer, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He gently placed a hand on Max’s shoulder, squeezing it as he spoke, his voice steady but filled with compassion. “Daniel’s right. We’ll do everything we can to help you heal, Max.” His words were soft, meant to bring comfort, though nothing could take away the pain that lingered in the room.
Daniel turned to Sebastian, his voice barely above a whisper, but his desperation clear. “Is there anything I can do to make him feel better? Anything at all?” The question hung in the air, filled with the helplessness that consumed him.
Sebastian met his gaze, his expression full of empathy. He nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Daniel’s worry. “Right now, he just needs rest and support. The pain from a broken bond is difficult, but being here, showing him he’s not alone, that means more than you might realize.”
Daniel nodded, though the ache in his chest didn't lessen. He looked back down at Max, who was now quietly crying, his body trembling with each breath. And as Daniel watched, tears of his own fell, unbidden. The sight of Max, broken and in pain, was too much to bear. He leaned forward, his forehead touching Max’s, whispering softly, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
Max’s shaky breath was the only response, but it was enough for Daniel. It was more than enough.
Daniel nodded, settling in beside Max. He leaned down, squeezing Max’s hand once more. “Then I’ll stay,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll stay as long as you need me, Max. I won’t leave you.”
A few moments later, the door opened again, and Christian entered the room, his expression a mix of sorrow and regret. His normally stoic gaze softened as he looked upon Max, who lay pale and fragile on the bed. The tension in the room grew thick as Christian approached, his eyes reflecting the weight of responsibility he felt for what had unfolded. He moved quietly to Max’s bedside, nodding respectfully to Daniel and Sebastian, who stood on either side of the bed.
“Max,” Christian began, his voice low but filled with a solemn kindness. “I… I am so deeply sorry for what happened today. None of this should have fallen upon you.” His gaze dropped to the floor briefly, his regret palpable before he returned his focus to Max.
Max opened his eyes slowly, the effort evident in the slight wince that crossed his face. His pupils fluttered for a moment, focusing before landing on Christian. The briefest flash of pain crossed his expression, and his voice was barely a whisper, strained and fragile. “It’s not your fault… Alpha,” Max breathed, the words barely leaving his lips. "I didn’t… ask for this bond, but neither did he.”
Christian’s jaw clenched at Max’s words, and he drew a steadying breath. “No, Max, it’s not your fault either. What Aiden did was his choice, and it was a terrible one,” he said, his tone hardening with disappointment. “He will have to face the consequences of that choice, believe me.”
Daniel, still holding Max’s hand, squeezed it gently, his grip a silent promise. His voice broke through the quiet of the room, fierce with emotion. “He nearly broke him, Christian.” His words were strained, like they might shatter if he spoke too loudly. “Max deserves better than to be treated like this. Everyone saw it. A public rejection, it was humiliating. Max has already endured so much.”
Christian’s eyes flickered between Max and Daniel, a pang of regret pulling at him. He nodded slowly, his face etched with the weight of responsibility. “You’re right, Daniel. Max deserves respect and compassion from this pack.” He turned back to Max, his expression softening, and placed a hand gently on Max’s shoulder, offering the smallest bit of reassurance, a gesture that felt too small given the damage done. “I will not allow you to face this alone, Max. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the pack knows you are valued. You are not defined by Aiden’s actions, nor are you defined by anyone’s expectations.”
Sebastian, standing just to the side, watched the exchange closely, his heart breaking for Max, but also swelling with fierce protection. He nodded his agreement, his voice steady with resolve. “Max, your strength isn’t just in your role as a warrior, it’s in your heart, and it’s in your resilience. You’ve already proven yourself more than anyone else could.”
Max’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, but the weight of the words and the kindness that enveloped him were too much to bear. His eyes misted over, the overwhelming emotions bubbling to the surface. The pain from the broken bond still pulsed through him, but the unwavering support of his friends, his Alpha, and the pack’s honour began to stir something within him, a flicker of hope.
Max’s breath hitched, and the tears that had been building finally spilled over, streaming down his face. His body trembled as sobs wracked through him, his chest tight with grief. The hurt was still so raw, but the kindness around him, the promises of support, felt like a lifeline. He turned his face toward Daniel, his best friend, his confidant, and found Daniel looking down at him with eyes filled with unshed tears. The moment their gazes met, the floodgates broke open. Daniel’s own tears spilled, mingling with Max’s, as the two of them shared the pain of the moment together.
“I’m sorry, Max,” Daniel whispered, his voice barely audible, cracked with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
Max’s fingers curled weakly around Daniel’s hand, his words lost in the sobs that wracked his body. But in that moment, despite the agony that consumed him, there was solace in knowing he wasn’t alone.
Christian leaned closer, his voice softening. “Rest now, Max. Focus on healing. And remember, no matter what happens, you have us.” He straightened, looking back at Daniel and Sebastian with a quiet understanding. “Thank you both. Max is lucky to have you.”
As Christian turned to leave, he cast one last, heavy glance at Max, silently promising that he would set things right.
As the night deepened, the room grew quiet, save for the steady sound of Max’s laboured breathing. The soft glow of the moonlight cast long shadows across the room, but inside, it felt suffocatingly still. Max lay there, his body unmoving except for the rise and fall of his chest, his hand still clutching Daniel’s. But something was different now. Something was wrong.
Max’s eyes fluttered open, a jolt of panic seizing him as an overwhelming sense of dread settled deep into his bones. It felt like his life was slipping away, like something was draining from him, piece by piece. His body was growing weaker, his limbs feeling like lead, and the pain in his chest was unbearable. It wasn’t just the physical pain, it was as if something inside him was breaking apart, leaving him hollow and empty.
A whisper of his own thoughts broke through the fog in his mind, I’m dying… I can feel it. I’m not going to make it through this.
His grip on Daniel’s hand tightened, but he had no strength to speak. His eyes widened with terror, his breath shallow as his vision began to blur. His heart pounded, the world around him spinning faster and faster. A deep ache started spreading through his chest, almost as if it were bleeding out from the place where Aiden’s rejection had pierced him so deeply.
Daniel had been sitting beside Max for hours, his body slightly hunched over, his head resting gently against the edge of the bed. He had fallen into a light sleep, his exhaustion from the day's emotional turmoil creeping up on him, but his mind was always tethered to Max’s side. His hand was carefully clasped around Max's, never straying far, offering comfort even in the silence of the night. His body was slightly curled, his face just inches from Max’s as he sought any sign of life, any movement that would tell him his friend was still hanging on.
His breathing was slow and steady, a quiet rhythm in the dim room. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, his face soft in the stillness, but it was the tension in his jaw, the slight frown etched on his brow, that betrayed his concern. Even in sleep, Daniel never fully let go of his protective instincts. He stayed close to Max, feeling every shift in his body, every subtle change in the atmosphere around them.
But then, something shifted a tremor in the air. Daniel's eyes fluttered open, instantly alert, a rush of cold panic gripping him. His heartbeat quickened, and his breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heaviness, the weight of Max’s suffering pressing down on him before the sound reached his ears, the soft, broken sound of pain that slipped from Max’s throat.
With a surge of panic, Daniel jerked awake fully, his fingers tightening around Max’s hand in a desperate attempt to anchor them both. He had been so close to sleep, his guard still half up, but the change was undeniable. The pain in Max’s chest, in his breath, it was too much to ignore.
“Max?” Daniel’s voice cracked, fear gripping his heart as he turned to look at his friend. Max’s face was ashen, his eyes wide with a terror Daniel had never seen before.
Max’s lips parted, barely able to form words, but his voice was weak, barely a rasp. “Daniel… it’s… it’s too much. I… I can’t…”
Daniel’s heart sank, the horror of Max’s words sinking deep into his chest. He could see the life draining from Max’s face, the warmth fading from his touch, and it sent a shock of panic straight through him. He could feel Max slipping away, and his chest tightened with the thought of losing him.
“No!” Daniel cried out, his voice raw with panic. His hands shook as he reached for Max, desperately trying to rouse him, but Max barely responded, his body trembling as if he was fighting to hold on.
Without thinking, Daniel surged to his feet, his heart pounding in his ears as he sprinted for the door. He could feel his own breath quickening, his thoughts a blur of terror. He had to find Sebastian. He had to do something.
He bolted down the hall, his feet almost slipping as he ran toward Sebastian’s room. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he slammed on the door, his voice breaking as he yelled, “Sebastian! Please! Max... something’s wrong! He’s, he’s, Seb!”
Sebastian was nestled in the comfort of his own sleep when the frantic pounding on his door shattered the quiet of the night. He had only just slipped into a deep, heavy sleep, his body worn and tired from the long day of worrying over Max’s condition. He had been in and out of the recovery room all evening, monitoring the fragile state of his friend, and now, when he had finally managed to close his eyes for a moment of rest, the urgent sound of Daniel’s desperate call dragged him back into the nightmare.
His heart skipped a beat as he threw off the covers, his bare feet slapping against the cold floor as he rushed to the door. He pulled it open with a swift motion, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but the panic in Daniel’s eyes hit him like a cold wave. Daniel’s wild expression, the terror in his voice, made his chest tighten with dread.
Sebastian had only thrown on an old, faded t-shirt, his messy hair falling in dark waves around his face. His movements were instinctive, driven by the raw urgency in Daniel’s voice. His body was still groggy from sleep, his mind struggling to catch up with the fear he saw in his best friend’s face. Without hesitating, he grabbed his medical kit from the corner of his room, his fingers shaking just slightly as he zipped it open.
By the time they reached the recovery room, Max’s breathing had become even more erratic, shallow gasps that rattled in his chest. Daniel was kneeling by his side, holding Max’s hand, his face streaked with tears.
“Max, please, don’t do this,” Daniel whispered, his voice barely audible, his fingers trembling as he stroked Max’s hair. “I’m not going to let you go. Please, stay with me.”
Sebastian immediately knelt beside Max, his face turning grim as he checked his vitals. His hands moved with practiced speed, but the look in his eyes was full of fear. “This… this is bad,” he murmured, his voice shaking. He quickly moved to administer something to Max, his mind racing.
Daniel’s heart pounded, his hands still clutching Max’s, unwilling to let go. “Don’t leave me, Max. Don’t leave us,” he whispered, his voice breaking. The tears came unbidden now, streaming down his face as he held his friend, feeling the life drain out of him with each passing second.
In that moment, the world seemed to stand still, the agony in the room palpable, the fear so thick it threatened to choke them all. The fear of loss, of the possibility that Max, the one person who had been there for him, might slip away forever.
Sebastian worked quickly, his hands moving over Max’s body with practiced urgency, but no matter what he did, Max’s pulse was weak, his breathing shallow. Every second felt like an eternity as Daniel hovered close, his grip on Max’s hand growing tighter in desperate hope.
“Come on, Max,” Daniel whispered through clenched teeth, his heart pounding in his chest. “You have to fight. You can’t leave us.”
Sebastian’s eyes flicked up to Daniel, his expression grim. “I’m doing everything I can,” he said, his voice strained. “But we need more time… we need more help.”
A cold sweat broke out on Daniel’s forehead as the room seemed to close in on him. He could feel Max slipping away, his body growing colder by the second. The thought of losing him sent a shock through Daniel’s chest, a fear he couldn’t name, a fear he didn’t know how to fight.
Suddenly, Max’s hand twitched, just a little, but enough to make Daniel’s heart leap in his chest.
“Max?” Daniel’s voice cracked, his breath catching in his throat. “Max, can you hear me?”
Max’s eyes fluttered open just a fraction, the barest glimmer of recognition in them. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his lips trembling.
“Max,” Daniel said again, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned closer, his face inches from Max’s, hoping for any sign that his friend was still with him.
And then, just as the room seemed to hold its breath, Max’s eyes locked onto Daniel’s, a quiet plea in them.
But before Daniel could say another word, the door to the recovery room slammed open.
Christian stood in the doorway, his face pale, his eyes wild with fear. He took one step forward, then stopped as a strange sound filled the air, a low, growling hum, as though the earth itself was vibrating beneath them.
The air in the room thickened, charged with an unnatural energy. Christian’s eyes widened in horror.
Daniel froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. He turned toward Christian, but before he could ask, a loud crack echoed through the room, followed by a deep, guttural growl that sent chills down their spines.
Max’s body convulsed, and his eyes snapped open wide, bloodshot and filled with something far more dangerous than the pain he’d been in.
“Max?” Daniel whispered, his voice trembling with fear.
But Max wasn’t looking at him anymore.
His eyes started to glow, glowing a deep, unnatural hue, and Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.
And then, before Daniel could react.