Chapter 74: Blood and Silver
Bradley’s POV
Bradley stood at the place where it all started. As he watched the steel structure rise before him, an insane urge seized him - to tear it down with his bare hands, shred the contract he and his team had worked so hard to secure, then jump on his plane and fly straight into the arms of his lovely mate. The distance gnawed at him constantly, a persistent ache that settled deep in his bones. His conversations with Trishelle had dwindled to less than five minutes, sometimes barely that. The brevity of their exchanges left him hollow, aching for the sound of her voice long after they’d hung up. He found himself replaying their last call in his mind, clinging to the memory of her laugh like a lifeline.
He knew the separation strained her as well. He could see it in her eyes during their video calls - the way her smile didn’t quite reach them, the shadows beneath them growing darker each day. The guilt of leaving her alone during her pregnancy ate at him, but duty demanded his presence here. Everything within him screamed to return to her side. His distraction had become so severe that he barked at Lorenzo every two seconds, demanding assurance that Trishelle was well. The poor doctor couldn’t even take a bathroom break without Bradley’s wolf prowling restlessly in his mind, demanding updates. His pack members bore the brunt of his frustration too, and Sammy was running himself ragged to ensure Trishelle remained safe and never alone for too long. Bradley knew he was being unreasonable, but the primal need to protect his mate and unborn child overrode all logic.
Surprisingly, James had become the only person Bradley trusted completely with Trishelle’s care. The irony wasn’t lost on him - leaning on his once-rival to protect his mate. But James had proven himself time and again, showing a dedication that went beyond mere obligation. For Bradley’s peace of mind, and secretly for James’s own, he’d moved Trishelle back to Bloodmoon territory. His wolf had finally settled, knowing his pup was nearby. They’d resumed their walks together, James taking her into town sometimes, exploring the local shops and cafes. They watched movies curled up on the couch, visited the few restaurants in the area, sampling something different each time. Bradley had even heard that James spent hours reading to Trishelle and the pup, his voice low and soothing. James always seemed pleased when the baby responded to him, a fact that stirred complicated emotions in Bradley’s chest - gratitude mixed with an uncomfortable twinge of jealousy he refused to examine too closely.
Trishelle’s POV
Trishelle found herself more relaxed with James close at hand. He anticipated her needs before she voiced them, rubbing her swollen feet or aching back without being asked. His touch brought comfort, yet underneath that gentle care, heat simmered - a slow-burning desire that licked through her blood like wildfire. She told herself it was just pregnancy hormones, but deep down, she knew better. The connection between them had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to ignite.
She always ended their sessions before losing herself completely, pulling away when the tension grew too thick. But she could tell he knew exactly what she felt. The way his nostrils flared as he scented her desire, the knowing look in his eyes when he heard her heart quicken - he missed nothing. He always released her with a smile that made her feel like a mouse being toyed with by a patient cat. She wondered when he would finally catch her, and she harbored strong doubts about her ability to resist when that moment came. The thought both terrified and thrilled her in equal measure. What would Bradley think? The question haunted her quiet moments, filling her with shame even as her body betrayed her with its responses to James’s presence.
Bradley’s POV
Bradley was grateful that Trishelle had James watching over her, yet his desire for her was destroying his focus. Just today, he’d nearly missed a crucial detail that would have turned the new merger into a massive liability. The realization had sent ice through his veins. Thankfully, Martha had caught the error and, with the dignity and grace she was renowned for, brought it to his attention during the meeting. Her discretion had saved him from public embarrassment. She would definitely receive a handsome bonus this year - assuming he survived long enough to approve it. The thought was meant as dark humor, but it settled uneasily in his gut.
Walking out of the building that evening, he began loosening his tie before the car even pulled up to the curb. The silk felt constricting, suffocating. Bradley was so absorbed in berating himself for his near-catastrophic mistake that he didn’t notice the hooded figure until the man brushed past him. In one fluid motion, the stranger spun and drove a blade into Bradley’s abdomen - once, twice, three times. The pain was immediate and blinding, stealing his breath.
Shock froze Bradley in place. The world tilted as his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the pavement. Before he could process what was happening, the man produced a gun. Six shots rang out in rapid succession, the bullets tearing through Bradley’s chest and stomach. Then the assailant vanished into the chaos erupting around them. Bradley’s vision blurred, the evening sky above him fading in and out of focus.
Martha’s cry of alarm pierced through the screaming pain that rolled through Bradley’s body in waves. Silver. The realization hit him like a physical blow. The bastard hadn’t just stabbed him - he’d used a silver knife. The silver bullets were wreaking havoc on his system, preventing his wolf from healing the wounds. His wolf’s howl of agony reverberated endlessly in his brain, a sound of pure torment that threatened to shatter his sanity. He could feel the poison spreading through his bloodstream, burning like acid in his veins.
He could feel consciousness slipping away like sand through his fingers. Whoever orchestrated this attack wanted him dead - permanently. The professional efficiency of the assault left no doubt about that. With tremendous effort, Bradley forced his eyes to focus. He grabbed Martha’s hand, pulling her attention from whoever she was frantically calling. Blood bubbled at his lips as he tried to speak.
"Silver," he whispered, each word costing him dearly. "Bloom." The name of their pack doctor barely left his lips before darkness claimed him. His last coherent thought was of Trishelle - her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at him with such trust. He prayed he’d see her again.
Trishelle’s POV
Trishelle reclined on one of the plush couches in the entertainment room, a space designed for comfort with its array of sofas and chairs surrounding a massive flat-screen TV. Her feet rested in James’s lap, and she munched contentedly on chocolate-covered strawberries he’d bought for her earlier. Lorenzo had been lecturing her about her chocolate consumption - or rather, the pup’s consumption. She’d tried to protest, but James had simply winked and said with a casual shrug that it was mainly fruit anyway. The comment had won her over instantly, and she’d devoured half the box already. They were watching something light and comical, though she couldn’t have said what it was about if asked. The baby kicked contentedly, as if approving of her snack choice.
Trishelle tried to focus on the screen, but James’s fingers playing gently with her toes proved quite distracting. Perhaps he had a foot fetish, or maybe she did. Her thoughts weren’t making sense anymore, wandering in pleasant circles. The warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence - it all felt so natural, so right. She forced her attention back to the movie, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest.
A notification chimed from her phone, and she fished it from her pocket. What she read made her bolt upright, the remaining strawberries tumbling to the floor, forgotten. Multiple articles about Bradley flooded her screen. Her eyes caught fragments - shooting... assassination attempt... multiple stab wounds... critical condition. She scrolled frantically through article after article, her hands trembling more violently with each one. The words blurred together as panic seized her throat. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some terrible mistake.
James, sensing her distress immediately, slid closer and wrapped his arms around her. The gesture of comfort broke something inside her. Tears choked her throat and spilled down her cheeks in hot streams. James gently took the phone from her shaking hands and scanned the headlines. Understanding flooded his features, and he cradled her more tightly against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong beneath her ear, was the only thing keeping her grounded.
That simple act of tenderness shattered the dam inside her completely. A wail of pain and grief tore from her throat, raw and primal. She couldn’t believe Bradley was dead - he couldn’t be. The bond between them still thrummed faintly in her chest, but fear clawed at her heart. What if she lost him? What if their child grew up never knowing his father? Just as she felt herself spiraling into panic, her phone rang.
Sam’s name flashed on the screen, and she lunged for it. James had to hold the device steady as her hands continued to shake uncontrollably. He switched it to speaker and answered, his voice calm despite the tension in his jaw. Trishelle held her breath, terrified of what she might hear.
"Yes, Sam, this is Alpha James. Tell us what’s happening. We’ve read the headlines."
Sam swore softly on the other end, the sound crackling through the speaker. "Well, I’m not sure what you’ve read, but Alpha Bradley was stabbed and shot by a single assailant." Trishelle’s sob caught in her throat. "He’s currently in the hospital, but we’re making arrangements to move him to a private facility as soon as he’s stable enough for transport. We’ve already contacted Dr. Lorenzo, and he should arrive within a few hours to oversee Bradley’s care personally."
Relief flooded through Trishelle so powerfully that her knees went weak. He was alive. Bradley was alive. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the bond pulse more strongly now that she knew he still breathed.
James frowned, his protective instincts flaring. "Why is he in a regular hospital? Isn’t that dangerous for someone in his position?"
Sam’s sigh carried the weight of exhaustion and worry. "Alpha James, he was attacked with silver."