CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Grace had never given much thought to death. Her thoughts since meeting Matthias had been filled with dreams for the future and plans to show him all the little intricacies of being part of a family. But when she felt the bullet tear into her chest, death was uppermost in her mind.

Strangely, it wasn't pain she felt. It was cold, not hot. It seemed to fill her body with ice rather than the burning pain she would have imagined. She was numb, yet able to move.

She had to move. She had to help Matthias. Just this one last time, she had to do something for him.

She managed to get his gun out of his holster and help hold the coyote soldiers back, determined to at least take a few with her if she did die. Matthias couldn't help her until this was dealt with, so she fought to hold back the ragged cries that tore at her chest.

Not from pain. She was numb to the pain, just aware of it. She wanted to cry because of what she was losing. As she felt herself growing weaker, felt the haze of blood loss engulfing her mind, she thought of leaving Matthias forever. She thought of the pain he would feel when she was gone.

It had taken her weeks to get a smile out of him, and she remembered the thrill the sound of his first laugh had brought her. She had a feeling Matthias hadn't often had occasion to laugh.

As Grace lay on the ground staring into the crack between the boulders, the gun dropped from her hand, and a whimper of agony left her lips.

She didn't want to leave him. She wanted to watch him play football with her brothers. She wanted to see her mother fuss over him and realize her father's approval of him.

"Matthias," she whispered, finally feeling him beside her again.

The gunfire had abated. Were the coyotes all dead? She hoped they were. She wanted them all dead.

"Grace. Grace!" She heard the panic in his voice, felt his hands as he turned her over, and knew he saw the blood.

She blinked up at him.

Shock, rage, agony creased his face, filled his dark eyes, and sent pain raging through her. She hated seeing the pain in his face.

Dawn was moving in, lighting the shelter they hid in, shadowing his scarred face, his incredible whiskey eyes.

He was screaming. She could hear him screaming, though what he said didn't make sense.

She lifted her hand to touch him. Just one last touch. Oh God, she didn't want to leave him. She wanted to lie with him one more time, she wanted his kiss again, to feel his touch.

"Matthias," she whispered. She loved his name, loved his face, and his heart.

"Don't you leave me, Grace." He was pressing something to her chest. "Do you hear me? Don't you leave me."

He was so arrogant. He was glaring at her, as though his refusal to let her go was all that was needed.

"Grace I swear to God, if you die, I'll never wear jeans. I'll never eat pie. I'll shoot fucking football players. Don't you die on me!"

She smiled. She was so glad it didn't hurt. That was so strange, the pain should have been agonizing.

"I love you, Matthias," she told him softly. "Like the earth loves the rain, like the flowers love the sun."

She was so tired. So tired and so frightened. She didn't want to leave him.

Her breathing hitched as the tears she couldn't hold back any longer began to fall from her eyes.

"Grace!" He was screaming at her, as her lashes fluttered. "Ah God, Grace, stay with me! Stay with me!"

She was so tired. She touched his face, feeling his hand clasp her fingers to his rough cheeks, and she fought to smile back at him.

Like a flower loves the sun… that thought drifted through her mind again. He warmed her like that. The sun warmed the flowers. "I love you."

She couldn't stay with him any longer. She tried. She tried until a silent scream was echoing in her head, because she could feel herself drifting away from him, and she couldn't stop it.

As her eyes drifted closed and rich darkness engulfed her, she could have sworn she heard a wolf cry.

Matthias

* * *

"LET the medic work on her, Matthias!" Jonas was screaming in his face, as Matthias fought the hands pulling him away from Grace.

She was so weak. The smell of her blood was in his brain, and agony beat at him with blows harsher than any he had received in the labs.

Matthias fought like the beast he was to tear away from the Breeds restraining him. To get to Grace. To hold her to him.

"You mangy fucking wolf, listen to me." Jonas's forearm slammed into Matthias's throat, driving his head back against the boulder.

Matthias let out another bloodcurdling howl of agony.

"She's alive, Matthias, but if you don't fucking calm down, we won't be able to help her. Do you understand me? We won't be able to help her."

Silver eyes flashed in the dawn light, the savage expression of the Lion Breed who was helping to restrain him finally took shape.

"Jonas! Grace…"

"Help us, Matthias, don't go wild on me," Jonas snarled, his canines flashing dangerously. "She's alive. If we're going to keep her alive, we have to move fast, and you have to keep your head."

The forearm across his throat flexed powerfully, as Matthias struggled against him again.

"Can you keep your fucking head, Matthias?" Jonas yelled in his face.

"As long as she breathes," he screamed back.

"Good! Let's get going." Jonas released him, and only then did Matthias see the basket that Grace had been strapped into and the medic working furiously to keep her alive.

"Jump in." Jonas pushed him to the wide metal basket used to transport the wounded from the ground to the hovering heli-jet above. "You and the medic. The hospital has been notified, and Drs. Armani and Morrey are en route."

Matthias clutched the side of the basket, as he knelt on one side of Grace, the medic on the other. An IV was strapped to her arm, a compress on her chest.

Sweet God, they had shot her in the chest. He felt the grief raging inside him now, the knowledge he could lose her, and he knew he would never bear the pain of it.

She had to live. Without her, he would never be warm again.

As the Breeds waiting in the transport heli-jet secured the basket, the hum of the craft grew louder.

He heard the report the medic was transmitting to the hospital in New York City. Her vitals, the site of her wound and its depth. She was on oxygen and had an IV. Surgeons were waiting, and the Breed doctors were on their way.

Within minutes the heli-jet was landing, and they were taking Grace away from him. She was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed across the roof as a second heli-jet landed and deposited the two doctors, who had been redirected from a flight to Virginia just minutes behind Jonas.

Drs. Armani and Morrey rushed across the landing area and followed the gurney. Within seconds, the heli-jets lifted off and left Matthias alone.

He stood on the hospital roof, staring around at the blinking lights, the buildings that rose like sentinels around them, and felt a striking loneliness fill his soul.

They had taken Grace away from him. Because of him, she was hurt, possibly dying. Alone.

Matthias stared down at his scarred hands and saw her blood, heard the ragged growl that tore from his throat. He was lost.

He stared around the rooftop again and realized that clear to his soul, without Grace, he was simply lost.

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