Clarabel’s POV

His whisper hung in the dead silence of the room, heavier than cave dust. “Don’t leave.”

I froze completely, my hand locking mid-air as his fingers remained clamped around my wrist. 

My pulse jumped violently against my ribs, feeling far too loud. 

The words didn't belong to the Alpha King of the Blood-Wing pack. They were too soft, too bare, stripped of every piece of the terrifying authority he usually carried like a shield. 

For a second, nobody breathed. The guards by the door shifted, their leather armor creaking, while the healers held their needles suspended over his torn chest, staring at my pinned hand.

I immediately yanked...