Bound by fate to the future Alpha.

**ChapterSeventeen :Seven hells- Blake's POV**

I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck, as if invisible nails are piercing through my skin, sending a jolt of fear coursing through my veins. I whip my head around, glancing at my sparring partner, but he is nowhere near me. The training area, once filled with the sounds of grunting and thuds, suddenly falls silent. A strange sensation sweeps over me, as if the world is tilting on its axis, and I gasp for breath, clutching my throat as panic floods my mind. My hands tremble as I struggle to draw air into my lungs, and it's as if time has frozen; all eyes in the gym are on me, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

In the midst of the chaos, Jackson’s voice breaks through the haze, resonating in my mind with urgency. “What is going on? Are you okay?” His panic echoes my own, amplifying my sense of dread. I try to focus, to push through the constricting pressure in my chest, but the sensation intensifies. A cold wave washes over me, and just when I start to think I might regain control, a sharp jolt hits my head, making the world swirl around me. The disorientation is overwhelming. I respond to Jackson, both through thought and trembling lips, "Something's not right." Even as I utter those words, deep down, I sense the gravity of the situation, and the unmistakable foreboding clings to my skin like a second layer.

Something is wrong. I think it is Malia.

I try to reach out to her to sense her presence, but it's like hitting a brick wall. The connection we share, the one that allows us to communicate telepathically, is blocked. My mind races with worst-case scenarios. Has she been hurt? Is she in danger? The questions swirl in my head like a vortex, making my stomach churn with anxiety. I take a step forward, my legs shaking beneath me.

As Jackson and I bolt from the gym, adrenaline surges through my veins, heightening my senses in a frantic attempt to track down Malia. Every step echoes against the tiled floor as I try to catch a whiff of her—my instincts honed in on the familiar scents that she carries. When we reach the women's toilets, the unmistakable fragrance of cherries and almonds fills the air, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket even in this frantic moment. "She’s in there," I murmur, the relief briefly overshadowing the urgency of the situation.

In an instant, Aimee appears, her face a mask of panic. Jackson must have mind-linked her, hurriedly relaying the details of our search, but the look in her eyes tells me that something is very wrong. Together, we surge into the bathroom, the world outside fading away as we focus solely on what might await us inside. A vision of Malia, vibrant and full of life, flashes through my mind—I can’t even begin to comprehend anything else. But as we cross the threshold, that image shatters. There, on the tiled floor, lies Malia, unconscious and seemingly motionless. My heart drops, and all thoughts of the comforting scent vanish, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.

As I rush towards Malia, Jackson, and Aimee hot on my heels, my brain struggles to process the scene before me. Time seems too slow, and every detail etches itself into my mind like a scar. Malia's usually radiant skin is now deathly pale, her lips a faint blue. Aimee drops to her knees beside me, her hands hovering over Malia's chest as if unsure where to touch. Jackson's voice is a distant hum, his words indistinguishable as he tries to reassure us, but I can sense the fear lurking beneath his tone.

I gently turn Malia's face towards me, my heart heavy with a mix of fear and desperation. Her eyes, usually bright and full of life, now stare blankly into nothingness. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of panic, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. The comforting scent of cherries and almonds, which had given me hope just moments before, now taunts me like a cruel joke.

Aimee's voice cuts through the chaos, her words laced with a sense of urgency. "We need to get her out of here, now." I nod, still in a daze, as Jackson carefully lifts Malia into his arms. Together, the three of us make a hasty exit from the bathroom, leaving the eerie silence and the haunting scent of cherries and almonds behind. The only sound is the pounding of my heart, echoing the question that refuses to leave my mind: What happened to Malia?

We bound through the doors of the nurse's office, adrenaline pumping as Jackson lays her down on the bed, urgency lacing his every movement. “Why isn’t her wolf healing her?” The question hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by the frantic thud of my heart. The nurse rushes in, her face a mask of concern as she assesses the situation. We’re at a loss for words, none of us truly understanding what could have caused this bizarre turn of events. Panic surges through me, and I finally ask the nurse, “Why isn’t she healing quickly? She has her wolf now.” My voice trembles, reflecting the desperation that clings to the room like a thick fog.

The nurse’s brow furrows as she considers my question. “There can only be a couple of reasons I can think of,” she starts, her tone shifting to grave seriousness. "The first thing that springs to mind... Wolfsbane, it can sometimes lead to a reaction and rather than it shutting her wolf down it can bring it to the surface without her knowing." Her words slice through the chaos in my mind. “If a werewolf makes physical contact with wolfsbane in any form, it will burn and weaken them.” The implication of her statement sends a chill down my spine. How could this have happened? How the hell would she come into contact with that? The question loops endlessly in my mind, feeding the rising dread as I glance back at Jackson, his face a mask of worry and disbelief.

As I stare at Jackson, my mind racing with questions, the nurse's voice brings me back to the present. "The other possibility is that she's not fully bonded with her wolf yet." Her words are laced with a hint of uncertainty, and I can sense the unspoken "or" hanging in the air.

Jackson's eyes lock onto the nurse, his gaze intense. "What do you mean? She shifted just fine." His voice is laced with a mix of confusion and desperation. he knows how must she means to me.

The nurse's expression turns sympathetic. "Shifting is one thing, but a true bond takes time, sometimes days, sometimes weeks. If she's not fully synchronized with her wolf, her healing abilities might be impaired." She pauses, her eyes darting between us. "We need to act fast. I'll get the antivenom for the wolfsbane, just in case. But we also need to try and stimulate her wolf, get it to respond and take over the healing process."

I nod, still trying to process the information. "What can we do?" I ask, feeling helpless.

The nurse hands Jackson a small vial filled with a glowing liquid. "This is a bonding serum. It might help accelerate the process. But we need to be careful, it's not a guarantee, and we don't know how her wolf will react."

Jackson's face sets in determination as he takes the vial. "We have to try." He looks at me, and I can see the desperation in his eyes. "We can't lose her, not now."

I nod, my heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. As we stand there, the silence is broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing and the soft beeping of the machines surrounding us. The fate of my mate hangs in the balance, and we're running out of time.