At first, I thought that someone was shining a bright flashlight in my face. Like I was in the hospital and some doctor was blinking their little medical pen in my eyes to test pupil reaction. But, here, the light was constant and blinding. And so deliciously warm.

I blinked once, then twice, and my surroundings slowly came into focus. I was in the guest bedroom in the pack house, with the off-white walls and darkly stained wooden furniture. Ivory blankets surrounded me like a blessed cocoon, and a sheen of sunlight passed through the open window and pooled on my skin.

As everything slowly came back to me, I became painfully aware of a soreness in my stomach, like I'd done one-too-many crunches in training. I shifted to sit up a bit straighter in bed, but the dull ache kept me from traveling too far, and my throat was so dry I couldn't even muster a groan. With every passing second, I felt worse. I felt like death. Go figure. I took a long, shaky breath, hyperaware of the pain ricocheting against my ribcage as my lungs expanded.

"The... consequences of stabbing yourself... in the lungs," I huffed to myself, rasping every word, and finally hauled myself onto one elbow.

Now propped-up by my arm, I noticed that I wasn't alone in the bedroom. In a corner chair, Angelina was curled into a tight ball, hands wrapped around her knees and head resting between them. She looked uncomfortable, shifting every few seconds like she was experiencing a nightmare. Dark purple circles shaded the area beneath her eyes, like she hadn't slept in days. Hadn't it only been a few hours?

"A-Angelina?" I croaked, forcing myself upward until I fully sat against the pillows.

She catapulted upward, like my voice had been as loud as a gunshot in her ear. Her eyes were wide—terrified, and she blinked as her gaze shifted back and forth. A long second passed before her almond brown eyes landed on me and became impossibly round.

"Oh my..." she breathed, before a huge smile overtook her features, and it warmed me more than the sunlight. "Charlie!" she gasped and lunged toward the bed.

Angelina reached both hands out and grabbed mine, holding them like her life depended on it—like she didn't quite believe that I was really there. When she felt the warmth beneath my skin, she started sobbing, burying her head in the ivory comfortable.

"Y-y-you were d-dead!" Angelina cried, risking a glance up at me. Her eyes were already swollen, and it made me wonder how often she'd been crying in the past few hours. "You were dead," she repeated, but started to shake her head, "and you weren't waking up."

My throat tightened, but I tried to lift a corner of my lips in a smile. It puckered against my will, instead. "Right, that was the plan, Angelina," I replied, my voice thick despite my weak attempt at humor.

She started shaking her head. "I d-didn't think you were coming back. I thought I'd failed!"

I squeezed her hands. "I was only gone a few hours! Your magic worked incredibly!"

Angelina stopped sobbing, eyes narrowing as she stared at me like I was a crazy person. Tears still dampened her cheeks as she took a shaky breath. "A few hours? Charlie, you've been gone for a week."

My heart felt like it stopped beating all over again. My insides disappeared, leaving a void of panic where my stomach should have been. A week? I was dead for a week? I didn't speak—couldn't speak. A week.

Angelina seemed to notice my panic, for she released my hand and scooted closer on the bed. Her soft, delicate hands reached up to stroke a piece of my brown hair away from my face. "Y-you didn't know?"

I didn't respond. Didn't so much as shake my head. That was answer enough. Angelina swallowed. "The battle ended shortly after you died. Nolan went crazy—killed dozens of hybrids in a matter of seconds. He and Dominic did."

I could have guessed as much. My death would've been unbearable. Nolan likely wanted to take on every hybrid in the army if it meant that one of them might manage to kill him and he could join me in death. If our roles had been reversed, I think I would want to die, too.

Angelina continued. "The hybrids were losing numbers fast, so they started to retreat. They'd come here intent on killing the Black Lupis Alpha's mate, and you were dead. They retreated to rejoin the hybrid host on the East coast."

"They're gone?" I whispered. Emptiness swept through my chest. Our plan had worked, but I didn't feel like I'd won anything.

"I reckon we'll see them again when the entire army has finished wiping out the East Coast packs. But we have time, now. You gave us another month, maybe two, to find a way to stop them." Angelina reached out to take my hand again, but I barely felt her touch.

"A week?" I breathed, unable to rip my gaze from our twined fingers. From the corner of my eye, I saw her nod. I swallowed the suffocating lump in my throat. The corners of my lips puckered downward as I whimpered, "W-where is he?"

As if my words had summoning powers, the bedroom door cracked open. A large, hulking mass stepped through; eyes cast downward in despondence. My heart simultaneously flipped and deflated as Dylan entered the room. "Angel, I can watch her. You need to eat—"

My delta paused as soon as he realized that Angelina wasn't in the chair in the corner, and his head immediately swiveled toward the bed. Alarm faded into elation as our eyes met, and Dylan's hand clapped over his heart. "Moon goddess above, Charlie!"

He was on the bed in seconds, sprawled across my legs on the blanket with his head in my lap as he hugged my waist. He laughed, as if he couldn't quite believe that I was here, sitting up and alive. I didn't have the heart to tell him that my stomach still felt like hell. I started laughing, too, and I wasn't quite sure when the tears started leaking out of the corners of my eyes.

"I missed you too, Dylan," I giggled. "Even though, to me, I was only gone for a couple of hours."

"Shit, Charles," Dylan huffed, sitting up and running a hand through his dark locks. "Don't ever pull some shit like that again! Do you hear me?" He demanded, but his words didn't hold any bite.

"Oh, I'm never doing magic again, after that!" Angelina chimed in. "And I'm burning the spell-book that I found the resurrection stuff inside!"

"Believe me, I'm not jumping up at the idea of dying again," I laughed, too aware of the cynicism lining my words. I brought my hand to my stomach, just beneath the center of my ribcage at the source of my pain.

The three of us fell quiet, and I couldn't help from glance at the door again. I half-expected it to open again, to open and reveal the one person that I wanted to see above all else. My heart ached in my chest.

"He's coming," Dylan murmured. "He, Raegan, and your father and brother were on their way home from a meeting with the Celestial and Broken Valley Packs when I told him. He's on his way now. They all were."

As soon as the words left Dylan's lips, fresh tears began to prickle in my eyes, and for the first time since waking up, I sobbed. Relief raked through me. Relief that the spell had worked, and despite the time that it had taken me to return, I was home. Relief that Nolan hadn't gotten himself killed in his grief following my sacrifice. My father and brother were alive as well. Relief that they would be here in a matter of minutes.

Angelina pulled me into her side, and, despite myself, I buried my head into her neck and cried. Dylan placed a hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb along the soft spots of muscle. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I knew as soon as Dylan stiffened beside me that Nolan was close.

Dylan's eyes glazed over, and I knew that Nolan was mind-linking with him. I moved away from Angelina's arms and began to furiously push the bed's blankets away from my legs. I sought freedom despite the excruciating pain that ricocheted through my stomach and chest with every breath I took. The blankets were off me in a moment, and I crawled to the edge of the bed. My body groaned in protest, but I didn't care. I wanted to see him. Needed to see him.

"Charlie, you shouldn't be moving so much," Angelina protested.

Dylan reached out and placed his hand on my forearm, as if that might hold me back from my mate. Not a damn chance. I shook his grip off, and placed my bare feet on the wooden floors. The trim of my white nightgown brushed just above my knees as I took my first step.

At first, I thought my legs might give out from under me, but Dylan swooped in to keep me upright. "Thank you," I muttered, glancing in the delta's direction.

But then the front door slammed below, rattling the very foundation of the pack house, and I almost whimpered. I took another step forward, closer to the door. Then another.

I was halfway to the door when it swung open, nearly flying off its hinges in the process, and there he was. Nolan stood in the doorway, gasping for breath with nothing but a throw-blanket wrapped around his waist to shield his modesty. But that was the last thing on my mind.

My beautiful Alpha's lips parted as a ragged breath escaped him. His piercing blue eyes swam with emotion that glossed the surface. They trailed down my body then back up it again, as if not yet ready to believe that I was real. His broad chest rose and fell with every breath that tore through his mouth.

"N-Nolan, I—" I began, voice trembling, but as soon as I said his name, my mate moved.

The Black Lupis Alpha fell to his knees at my feet and wept.