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Silver and Sacrifice

My hands trembled as I burst through the doors of the pack's medical facility, the acrid smell of burning flesh and silver poisoning assaulting my heightened senses. Callum lay writhing on the examination table, his powerful frame wracked with convulsions. Black lines spider-webbed across his chest where the silver bullets had struck him, each one a testament to how close I was to losing him.

"Status report," I barked at Fiona, forcing my corporate mask into place. I couldn't afford to let emotions cloud my judgment – not when Callum's life hung in the balance.

"Five silver bullets, My Lady," Fiona answered, her usual fierce demeanor cracking. "The hunters ambushed him outside Canary Wharf. We barely got him here in time."

The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the stainless steel surfaces as I cut away Callum's shirt. My medical training from my human life crashed against my wolf instincts – one demanding precise, calculated movements, the other howling to save my mate at a
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