199 Is There Anybody Out There? Part If you like music while you read, try “Anyone” by Corvyx. It’s what I listened to while writing and sets the perfect tone for Zev’s heart here!

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~ ZEV ~

It was midnight and Sasha was falling apart. Something had shifted during the course of the day. Zev’s heart slammed against his ribs in panic—his mate was falling apart, and his baby… his son… something was wrong.

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“Let me take him,” Zev said quietly, reaching for the tiny bundle. Their son whose cry was growing weaker. He was exhausted, only sleeping twenty minutes at a time, and feeding less and less.

Sasha’s eyes had gone hollow and she was barely talking. Zev had sent Skhal to get Jayah hours earlier, but there was no news. Nothing. Skhal was out of the range of the mindlink. And who knew if he’d even be able to bring her back? What if he was caught trying to find her? They didn’t know who he was to Jayah. They might kill him on sight.

Zev growled and shook his head. He couldn’t think like that… there had to be hope that Jayah would come and would have some answers, something… but even if she did, what if it wasn’t the milk? Or what if it was and the wet nurse couldn’t—

He swallowed, shutting off that train of thought and looking down at Sasha, but her eyes were dark, vacant pools. Something had happened during the day. She kept looking at him as if he was a walking ghost. But every time he asked, she just shook her head. “I just need to sleep. I need Zan to eat, and I need to sleep.”

She’d said it so many times that day, and she was right. She was human—more frail, far less physically robust than him or the other Chimera, and not a soldier.

.....

She insisted Zan was, too. That he could go downhill faster too, because of it. But Zev wasn’t as sure.

“Let me take him,” he said again, his hands extended. “Just for an hour. I’ll walk him around. He seems to do better then, right? You sleep.”

“But—”

“I’ll bring him back, Sasha.”

“I know. Of course you will, but—”

“Sasha… let me do this. Let me have him.”

Her forehead pinched to lines, but she lifted the swaddled bundle of their son up to Zev from the furs, nodding, though she looked like she was on the verge of tears. Again.

And yet, the moment Zan was in his arms, she laid down.

She was asleep before Zev had made it out of the cave.

Zan gave a little cry and Zev held him to his chest, shushing quietly in his ear. “Just a little while, buddy. Let’s let mom sleep okay?” he whispered.

Either Zan understood, or he was soothed by the movement, because he sighed heavily, but didn’t immediately cry out again.

Zev swallowed hard, but set his jaw. Determined.

He knew what Zan needed. He was certain. He just... he wasn’t sure he could… if he knew how…

Gulping at the air and glaring at anyone who was still awake and caught his eye, Zev put his son to his shoulder and stalked through the camp until they finally broke out of the line of the northernmost tents and into the forest.

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He could breathe easier out here where there were no signs of anything except trees and the wind. His shoulders loosened a hair.

Zan made another little cry and squirmed against his shoulder, but Zev let him. He wasn’t going to disturb anyone out here. He strode into the dark, formulating a plan.

When he made it to the clearing where they’d met the Chimera when they returned and saw that it was, indeed, empty, he heaved a sigh of relief.

It was stupid, he knew. But he wanted to be alone for this, in case he failed.

His hand tightened instinctively on Zan’s back and his son sighed again, but nuzzled into his neck—looking for milk that he wouldn’t take when it was presented to him. Zev wanted to weep.

He turned circles looking for the perfect spot, and chose a massive, flat tree-stump over to the eastern side of the clearing.

When he reached it, it slanted slightly, but was mostly flat. Zev took a deep breath and laid the bundle of Zan down on the stump, then leaned over him.

Zan arched and gave a little cry, and then another, each a little stronger than the one before. But Zev knew this was necessary, so he steeled himself against his son’s wails and began to unwrap him until his little body was bare to the night, the small fur flat around him, and nothing on his tiny frame except the diaper Sasha had fashioned for him.

Zan fisted his hands and screamed as the cold air reached his warm, pink skin.

“Shhhhhhh, listen to me son, please…”

But Zan was inconsolable. Tears filling his little eyes that blinked and screwed tight, then opened again, pleading with Zev to warm him.

Heart breaking, Zev cupped a hand over his skull, humbled and moved almost to tears by how tiny his son was.

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He could crush him with the wrong move—snuff out his life. But his son reached for him, wailing, already certain that safety, comfort was in his arms. How was that possible?

“I’m so sorry, son,” Zev whispered, trying to time his words when Zan was inhaling so he’d hear them. “But I want to help you. And sometimes… sometimes help is uncomfortable.”

Zan’s cries caught as he inhaled deeply and choked on his own saliva. There was a very nervous second for Zev when his son’s eyes went wide and he didn’t make a sound at all, then suddenly, Zan’s full-throated scream pierced the night.

Zev leaned over him, swallowing back tears, cupped both hands over his head, stroking with his thumbs and talking to him.

“You need to shift, Zan. If you shift, you can eat something else. We can give you meat or different milk or… something. Please… I know it’s in you—there’s an animal in there somewhere, a wolf. Something. Feel it, buddy… please… feel it. It’s like… like a shield inside you. A body that’s yours, but not like this one. It’s inside you. It’s probably angry right now and wants to bite me, and that’s okay, son. If you need to do that, you can. I promise I won’t be mad… please… Zan, please…”

Over and over again, everything he could think of to describe his earliest memories of his wolf—how it felt, how he knew it, where it was. He even massaged that spot on Zan’s chest where Zev felt his wolf the strongest… Right under his heart.

But Zan just cried, and cried, and cried… until his wails grew weaker, and he started to leave gaps between his cries.

“Please, Zan… please!” Zev pleaded his hands clenched to desperate fists now, but his son just stared at him through shining eyes.

“Please, Zan—we can’t lose you. It will kill us. You’re… you’re too precious. It will break us, son.”

But his son only gave a feeble, pathetic little wail that broke the last of Zev’s heart that was still beating normally.

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