Jessica’s POV
Everything was fire. Everything hurt. I could smell my own skin burning, and I swear it felt like the flames were licking straight into my bones.
I tried to scream but nothing came out. My throat felt sealed shut. My limbs refused to move. I was fully awake in my own dying body and there was nothing I could do about it.
I kept asking myself why I was still conscious. Why I had not passed out already. Why whatever gods ran this cursed werewolf world wanted me to stay awake long enough to feel myself roast alive. It was sick. It was cruel. It was perfect for my life, honestly.
The pain was worse than anything Suzette ever put me through.
Worse than the saltwater punishments. Worse than her beatings. Worse than when she shoved my face into the dirt like I was a dog she wanted to break.
This time I felt myself slipping toward death for real.
My tears sizzled before they even hit my cheeks. My lungs were filling with smoke. My chest refused to expand.
I thought this was it. Jessica Brookes, survivor of every kind of misery, finally dying like trash someone tossed into a bonfire.
Then I heard a voice.
“Jessica. Can you hear me? Where are you?”
I thought I was hallucinating.
The flames crackled in my ears and made everything warp. But the voice came again, louder, sharper, almost frantic. The sound cut through the roaring fire like claws through soft meat.
And that was when I realized. I knew that voice.
No. It could not be. Why would he be here?
The flames parted for half a second.
A shadow leaped straight through them like he had no sense of self preservation. And then his face appeared.
That stupidly handsome face I tried so hard to forget. He looked wrecked. His icy blue eyes were wide with panic, his hair was soaked with sweat and water, and his jaw was clenched like he was trying not to fall apart.
My mind whispered the only thing it could manage.
You?
My savior. The man I owed a personalized perfume to because I was stupid enough to make a bet with him. The man whose scent I remembered even when I tried not to. The man I slept with once and swore I would never see again.
How did he even know I was here?
He stumbled toward me, falling to his knees so hard I heard the thud even through the fire.
“Jessica. Look at me. Are you okay? Damn it, say you are okay.”
I would have laughed if I was not dying. Okay. What a joke. Why was he even here? Why would someone who barely knew me, someone I had sex with once and then pushed away, be the one running into a burning building like a lunatic for me?
Johan never came for me. Not once in ten years. Ten years of hell with him and he never fought for me. He never looked for me. I was invisible to him.
But this man. This stranger with the dangerous smile and the sharp tongue. He came running into fire for me.
I tried to answer him. I tried to tell him I was here. That I was not dead yet. But my voice was gone. I could not even cough. My throat felt like it was made of ash.
He reached me anyway. He moved fast, his hands shaking as he pulled a soaked blanket over my body. The water stung so much it felt like my skin was peeling off in layers, but he did not stop. He poured more over me, muttering curses under his breath like he was fighting the fire itself.
“Stay with me. Come on. Stay with me. Look at me, Jess.”
His voice sounded broken. Like he cared. Like my life mattered.
That hurt more than the fire.
Then a hand shot out from behind him and grabbed his ankle. He jolted, spun his head, and I heard a rasping breath.
It was Charley.
Her body looked twisted, half burned, but she still clawed at him like she had one last thing to say.
“She planned this,” Charley whispered. Her voice was shredded. “Suzette planned everything. She wanted Jessica dead.”
I saw his jaw clench. His eyes darkened. For a moment I saw his wolf flash through him. Furious. Ready to kill.
Charley coughed again. “You forgot this.” She pushed a fire extinguisher toward him. Her hand was shaking so badly I thought it would fall apart.
He took it gently. “Thank you,” he told her. His voice dropped to this quiet, calm tone that did not match the chaos around us. “You can rest now. You did enough.”
Charley exhaled. Her eyes shut. She died right there.
He did not flinch. He squeezed her hand once and let her go.
And then, in that horrible burning room, with my skin melting and the ceiling groaning above us, his name hit me like a slap.
Charley had called him Alpha William through the pack link.
Alpha William.
This was him. This man. This man who saved me.
William.
William did not waste a second. He aimed the extinguisher and blasted the flames away from the doorway until he carved a path through the smoke. When the doorway cleared, he threw the extinguisher aside, scooped me up in his arms, and held me tight against his chest.
His body was shaking. I did not know if it was from pain or anger.
Maybe both.
He carried me out through the flames, shielding me with his own body. Every time the fire flared, his back took the heat instead of mine. I could smell his burnt skin. I could feel his blood dripping down his arm.
He refused to stop.
Outside, people screamed when they saw us. Some ran to help. Some cried out orders. Some shouted that he needed medical attention.
I stayed still in his arms, trapped in a body that refused to move while my mind stayed painfully awake, feeling every pulse of agony.
He tightened his grip on me. His voice came out like a command that shook the air.
“Prep an OR. I am doing the surgery myself.”
My mind spun. He would do the operation himself? Could he even do that? Was he something more than an alpha, something beyond the power I thought I understood?
People panicked. Nurses pleaded with him. A beta tried to stop him. Someone said he was too injured and needed treatment. Someone else begged him to hand me over.
He did not listen to any of them.
“If I cannot save her,” he growled, “then I do not deserve that title.”
I blinked. What title? Was he talking about being Alpha? Or something else entirely?
Then he added something that made everyone freeze.
“And if she dies, then the world does not deserve to live either.”
People fell silent. No one questioned him after that.
He carried me toward the helicopter, leaving a line of blood dripping behind us. He kept pushing forward even as his knees shook. Even as his breath came shallow. Even as his wolf flickered through his eyes like it was barely holding him upright.
Through the pack link I heard voices that did not belong to me. William and his beta speaking like the world was burning under their feet.
“Alpha, you are losing too much blood. You need treatment now.”
“I said focus on the fire. Find out if anyone else made it out.”
“William, your back is shredded. At least let the medical team take her.”
“She stays with me. No one touches her.”
There was a pause. A static kind of silence that felt heavy.
“Alpha… the body inside. It looks like a woman. They think it is her.”
William’s voice cut through the link sharp and furious.
“That’s good.”
Johan’s POV
I woke up like someone shot lightning straight through my chest.
For a second, I didn’t know where the hell I was.
Then a healer’s voice rushed in.
“Alpha, how are you feeling?”
I didn’t answer. My brain was still glitching, replaying the fire, the heat, the screaming. My own heart beating so loud it felt like a hammer smashing concrete.
Then Suzette’s face shoved itself into my vision.
“Johan, are you okay?”
No. She looked like crap. Ash smeared everywhere, makeup melting, hair fried at the ends like she dipped her head in a bonfire. Her eyes were red from crying, but I didn’t trust that for a damn second.
The moment my mind clicked back to the fire, everything else vanished.
Jessica. Where is she?
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