Chapter 22 · Sternum Strike

Julian’s heart quit at 3:41 a.m.

I knew because the wall clock survived the cave-in hanging off one crooked screw, still ticking. I couldn’t stop staring at the red second hand while I stacked my palms over his breastbone and threw my whole weight down.

"One. Two. Three—"

His chest gave under me. Not the good kind. The sickening, hollow give of broken timber.

The silver spike had punched in beneath his left shoulder blade and tore out through whatever held an Alpha’s spine together. Every shove ground jagged ribs against each other.

"Come on, you stubborn bastard. Breathe."

Concrete dust coated my teeth. His blood soaked straight through my scrub pants, boiling hot, then turning cold against my skin.

Silver has a stench once it sits inside wolf marrow too long. Copper, singed hair, and a rancid, sick sweetness underneath. I’d patched four hundred mangled wolves in this clinic.

I’d never had to smell it on him.

The monitor shrieked. Flat line. Solid tone. Death in C-sharp.

Behind the reinforced steel door to cold storage, tiny fists banged against the bottom panel.

"Mama! Mama, I hear it—"

"Stay down!" My voice ripped raw. "Eli, hold your sister.