Chapter 71

Lauren

The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed softly, a sound I usually drowned out in the chaos of my shifts. But tonight, it was all I could hear.

The rhythm of my heartbeat, steady yet troubled, echoed in my ears as I sat hunched over my desk, staring at the blank page in front of me. My mind wasn’t in this office. It was back in the snow, buried beneath the cold, trapped in the moment Alexander found me—half-conscious, my body unresponsive, my wolf silent.

I flexed my fingers, rubbing them against my palms as if that would bring some kind of warmth, some kind of familiarity back to me—like I was still in the snow.

But no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming truth that settled into my bones: I couldn’t transform. I had lost my wolf.

The realization sat in my chest like a heavy weight, crushing the air from my lungs. I had never been the strongest wolf, but I had always had something. I was smaller, weaker, but there were advantages to my form—agility, speed, senses that made up for my lack of brute strength. And now? I had nothing.

My eyes burned as I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I never needed my wolf before, not in the past decade, not as a mother, not as a doctor. But what if Alexander hadn’t found me in the snow? Would I have died there, helpless, unable to shift and protect myself?

The thought made my hands tremble. I clenched them into fists, inhaling sharply through my nose. No. I wouldn’t let this consume me. There had to be a way to fix this. There had to be an explanation.

But more than anything, there were my kids. The Lyan blood running through their veins, marking them as something rare, something hunted. I hadn’t even begun to wrap my head around it. And without my wolf, I was powerless to protect them.

I pushed back from my desk, standing quickly and locking my office door. My heart pounded as I closed my eyes, focusing, reaching inside myself the way I used to. I willed the change to come, for the familiar tingling of the shift to begin in my bones.

Nothing.

I tried again, this time pushing harder, forcing my mind to remember the feeling, the connection, the way it had always been. A heat would usually spread through me, a pull deep inside as my wolf answered the call.

Nothing.

Panic clawed at my throat. My breathing hitched. I braced my hands against the desk, trying to steady myself, but the fear was setting in now, tightening its grip around my ribcage. I had never gone this long without shifting, but had never even crossed my mind that I could lose my wolf entirely.

A sharp knock on the door made me jolt.

I spun, my heart slamming against my ribs, as a familiar voice filled the room.

“So, you finally caught on.”

A voice cut through my spiraling thoughts like a knife through butter—smug, amused, and entirely too entertained.

I jolted, whipping around so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet. Liam was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, radiating the kind of self-satisfaction that made me want to throw something at his head.

His golden-blond hair was its usual controlled chaos, effortlessly tousled, with a few rebellious strands falling across his forehead. It gave him that perpetual air of careless perfection, like he’d just rolled out of bed looking that way.

His icy blue eyes locked onto mine, glinting with their familiar brand of amusement—not cruel, never quite mocking, but always as if he were in on some secret joke the rest of the world had yet to catch. A warmth lingered on his lips, a smile so easy, so practiced, that it could almost fool you into believing it was real.

Almost.

Because beneath it, there was something distant, something just a little too polished, too measured. The kind of warmth that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Even if it felt cold.

“Thought I locked that,” I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest as my heart tried to escape my ribcage.

Liam shrugged, infuriatingly casual. “You did. You just forgot I don’t respect your locks.”

I groaned. “You know, normal people knock.”

“And normal people don’t lose their wolves. So, really, who’s the weirdo here?” He grinned, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him with an obnoxious amount of confidence.

I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”

Liam tapped his temple, as if I were slow. “You heard me. I know you, Lauren. Better than anyone. Even if you and Captain Broodstorm refuse to admit it.” His smirk widened, a dangerous thing. “And I had a theory. Congrats—you just proved it.”

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. “Proved what, exactly?”

Liam tilted his head, dragging out the pause just long enough to make me want to strangle him. Then, finally, he dropped the bomb.

“That you can’t transform anymore.” His voice was infuriatingly matter-of-fact. “You’ve lost your wolf. Took you long enough to notice.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of my desk. I let out a brittle laugh. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Liam lifted a brow. “Is it, though?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m just… out of practice. It’s been a while. That’s all.”

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England.” He took a step closer, the usual teasing giving way to something sharper. “Lauren, shifting isn’t like forgetting how to ride a bike. You don’t just wake up one day and misplace your wolf.”

I bristled. “Then what, exactly, are you saying?”

Liam exhaled through his nose, his expression finally turning serious. “I’m saying something’s wrong. You’ve lost your connection to your wolf, and if you don’t figure out why…” He hesitated, just for a second. “You might never get it back.”

The room felt too small, too tight. I forced a smirk, even though my stomach was flipping inside out. “Wow. Thanks for the pep talk. Really inspiring.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Hey, you’re the one who let me in. You knew what you were signing up for.”

I groaned. “I didn’t let you in.”

“Details.”

The words landed like a stone in my stomach. I forced myself to hold his gaze, but deep down, I knew he was right. I had been trying to ignore it, to pretend it was stress or exhaustion or anything else. But none of those things could take away my wolf.

And if it was gone… what did that make me? A Lyan? Please… I didn’t even have a wolf.

“I’m not saying I’m a miracle worker,” Liam smirked, halting right in front of me. “But I might have some ideas that could... sort out your little issue. Not that you will like them.”

I narrowed my eyes at his smug grin. “What?”

Liam wiggled a finger in his ear like he was clearing out imaginary wax. “Even with your wolf hearing gone, I know you heard me. Do I need to start using flashcards?”

God… he’s only gotten sassier.