“Dante?” I said, stunned.

He stood there, eyes darker than usual, the kind of dark that had nothing to do with the color of his irises and everything to do with the weight he carried. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

“I thought you went back to your pack,” I said, brows furrowing.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his eyes drifted past me—over my shoulder, toward the hospital bed behind me. Toward her.

Raven.

Something shifted in his expression. Like something sacred had just come into view. There was no curiosity. Just reverence. And then, sorrow.

“What is it?” I asked, suddenly...