The mind-link hit me like a physical blow, tearing through my consciousness with raw panic and desperation.
*Luna! Emergency at the eastern border! Rogue attack! The pups—Emma—*
I dropped the teacup I'd been holding, porcelain shattering against the kitchen floor as Gamma Reynolds' frantic voice echoed in my mind. My wolf, Celeste, surged forward instantly, her maternal instincts screaming danger.
*Luke!* I reached out through our mate bond, but found only silence. Not the comfortable quiet of distance, but the deliberate, impenetrable wall that had become all too familiar lately.
*Alpha Anderson is unavailable,* came Beta Marcus's strained response when I tried the pack link. *He's dealing with Nathan's emergency at the clinic.*
Nathan. Always Nathan. While my daughter played at the borders where rogues could strike.
I didn't waste another second. Shifting mid-stride as I burst through the back door, my wolf form hit the ground running. Celeste's powerful legs ate up the distance to the eastern border, her heart hammering against her ribs as we raced through the forest. Pine branches whipped past us, but nothing could match the speed of a mother's desperation.
The metallic scent of blood reached us first, followed by the acrid stench of fear and death. My wolf's enhanced hearing picked up the sounds before we crested the hill—sobbing, frantic voices, the terrible silence where children's laughter should have been.
I shifted back to human form as I reached the clearing, my bare feet hitting the bloodstained grass. The scene before me was every parent's nightmare. Three pack warriors stood in a protective semicircle around a group of trembling pups, their clothes torn and faces streaked with tears. Gamma Reynolds knelt beside a small, motionless form near the treeline.
Emma.
My legs nearly gave out as I stumbled forward, pushing past the warriors who tried to intercept me. "No, no, no," I whispered, dropping to my knees beside my daughter's broken body.
Emma lay crumpled against the base of an old oak tree, her favorite yellow dress torn and stained with blood. Her dark hair, so much like mine, was matted with dirt and leaves. But her eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes that had always lit up when she saw me—were open and aware, though growing dimmer with each labored breath.
"Mama?" Her voice was barely a whisper, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "I called for Daddy... where is he?"
I gathered her into my arms, feeling how light she'd become, how fragile. "I'm here, baby. Mama's here." My voice cracked as I smoothed her hair back from her face, trying to hide my horror at the claw marks across her small chest.
"The bad wolves came," she whispered, her hand finding mine with trembling fingers. "I tried to be brave like Daddy taught me. But he always comes for Nathan when there's danger... why didn't he come for me?"
The question shattered something inside my chest. I pressed my lips to her forehead, tasting salt from my own tears. "You are so brave, sweetheart. The bravest little wolf I know."
"Will Daddy be proud of me?" Her eyes were struggling to focus now, that terrible glassy look creeping in.
"So proud," I choked out. "He loves you so much, Emma. We both do."
But even as I said the words, I knew they were lies. Luke wasn't here. He was miles away, tending to Zoey's son while his own daughter bled out in my arms.
Emma's breathing grew more shallow, each breath a monumental effort. "Mama... it hurts."
"I know, baby. I know." I held her closer, rocking slightly as if she were still my tiny pup. "Just close your eyes. Mama's got you."
Her small hand squeezed mine one last time. "Tell Daddy... tell him I waited for him."
The light faded from her eyes like a candle being snuffed out. The weight of her went completely still in my arms, and with it, something fundamental inside me died too.
I don't know how long I sat there, holding her cooling body, whispering apologies and lullabies she could no longer hear. The other pups had been taken away, the warriors maintaining a respectful distance. But I couldn't let go. This was my baby, my heart walking around outside my body, and now she was gone.
The sound of running footsteps finally broke through my grief-stricken haze. Luke's scent reached me a moment before his voice did.
"Isabella! I came as soon as I could—" He stopped abruptly as he took in the scene, his face going white. "Emma?"
I looked up at him then, this man who had sworn to protect our family, who had chosen another woman's child over his own daughter's life. His hair was disheveled, his clothes smelling of the clinic and Zoey's perfume.
"She's dead," I said simply, my voice hollow. "She called for you, Luke. She waited for you to save her, just like you always save Nathan."
He stumbled forward, reaching for Emma's still form, but I pulled her closer to my chest. "Don't," I whispered. "You don't get to touch her now. Not when it's too late."
