It wasn't there. The spot where the remedy should have been was empty.
Then I remembered—two days ago, Alaric had torn through the healing supplies looking for a salve for his training wounds, scattering everything. I hadn't had time to reorganize it.
No remedy.
The movements in my arms grew weaker by the second. I didn't stop for my cloak. I grabbed my daughter and ran for the den's entrance, reaching through the pack bond to find Alaric's presence.
Thunder rolled outside. Rain hammered down in sheets, cold enough to freeze the marrow.
We lived in the outer estate—the pack healers would take at least twenty minutes to reach us through this storm. But Alaric had left less than five minutes ago. If he just turned around, if he carried us to the healing hall at his Alpha speed, it would only take ten minutes.
This was a life.
I pushed through the bond, desperate, calling out with everything I had.
Finally, a split second before the connection would have faded completely, someone responded.
I clutched at the thread of awareness like a lifeline, my voice cracking into a desperate scream through our fading link.