The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 122

Athena's POV

The room we've set up looks nothing like the cozy guest room it was this morning.

Derek and Orion moved all the furniture against the walls, pushing the bed frame and dresser into the corners like we're preparing for something violent.

Sarah covered everything with plastic sheets that crinkle every time someone moves, and the sound makes my teeth hurt.

There's a mattress on the floor in the center of the room, positioned under the overhead light so we can see everything clearly.

Clean white sheets that won't stay white for long, and I try not to think about what that means.

Towels are stacked nearby in neat piles, more towels than any normal situation would ever need.

Medical supplies that Derek brought from somewhere I don't want to think about are arranged on a small table like we're setting up an operating room.

And the knife.

It's sitting on a small table next to the mattress, gleaming silver in the afternoon light coming through the window.

The blade is long and sharp and coated with something dark that makes my stomach turn every time I look at it.

The handle looks ordinary, like something you'd find in any kitchen, but I know what it really is.

A weapon designed to kill werewolves.

Wolfsbane mixed with silver, Derek explained earlier, and the combination would prevent Tristan from healing and make the wound fatal within minutes.

The wolfsbane would stop his body from shifting to heal itself, and the silver would make sure the wound stayed open and kept bleeding.

Within minutes, that's how long I have to figure out how to use this power to save instead of kill. Minutes to do something I've never done before, something I'm not even sure is possible.

My hands won't stop shaking, and I keep wiping them on my jeans even though they're not actually wet.

Sarah keeps glancing at me with worry in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything.

Orion is pacing back and forth by the window, running his hands through his hair over and over again.

Derek is the only one who looks calm, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he keeps checking and rechecking his supplies like he's forgotten something important.

"You don't have to watch," Tristan says quietly. He's standing next to me, fully dressed still, but I know that won't last long. His voice is steady, but I can hear the underlying current of fear that he's trying to hide.

"Yes, I do," my voice comes out stronger than I expected, and I'm surprised by my own determination. "If I'm asking you to do this, the least I can do is watch."

He nods like he understands, like he knew I'd say that. There's something in his eyes that looks almost proud, and it makes my chest tight with emotion.

"Are you ready?" Orion asks, and his face is pale, almost gray in the afternoon light. His hands are shaking slightly, and I realize this is just as hard for him as it is for me. Maybe harder, because he has to be the one to actually do it.

He has to be the one to stab his best friend.

The thought makes me feel sick, and I have to swallow hard to keep from throwing up.

This is insane, what we're doing is completely insane, and I can't believe we're actually going through with it.

Tristan pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor next to the mattress. His chest is bare now, and I can see his heart beating under his skin, fast but steady.

The muscles in his chest and arms are tense, and there are small scars scattered across his skin from old fights and accidents.

For now, his heart is beating. For now, he's alive and whole and looking at me with trust in his eyes.

In a few minutes, that might not be true anymore.

"Where?" Orion asks, and his voice cracks on the single word. He's holding himself stiff, like he's trying to keep from falling apart.

Derek points to a spot just below Tristan's ribs, on the left side where his heart is. "Here, it'll hit vital organs but give Athena the best chance to reach him before it's too late. The angle needs to be straight in, no hesitation."

The clinical way he says it makes me feel sick, like we're talking about cutting up a piece of meat instead of killing someone I love. But I know Derek is trying to help, trying to make sure we do this right.

We only get one chance, and if we mess it up, Tristan dies for nothing.

Tristan lies down on the mattress and looks up at all of us. His brown eyes move from face to face, taking in our expressions, our fear, our love for him.

"It's going to be okay," he says, but I don't know if he's talking to me or to himself or to all of us.

Sarah moves to stand beside me, and she doesn't say anything, but I can feel her presence like a warm wall at my back.

Her hand brushes against mine, and even though I'm wearing gloves, the contact gives me strength.

Orion picks up the knife with hands that are definitely shaking now. The blade wavers in the light, and I can see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stares down at it.

"I can't do this," he says, and his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you can," Tristan says firmly from his position on the mattress. "You have to."

"There has to be another way, there has to be something else we can try."

"There isn't," Tristan's voice gets softer, more patient. "We've been over this a hundred times. It has to be you because you're strong enough to hold me down if I try to shift. It has to be now because waiting won't make it easier."

Derek moves to kneel beside the mattress, positioning himself near Tristan's legs. "I'll help hold him steady, the wolfsbane will make him want to shift, but if he does, it'll kill him faster."

The casual way everyone is talking about this is making my head spin. How are they all so calm? How are they discussing the logistics of murder like they're planning a dinner party?

But I know it's not really calm, it's the kind of forced steadiness that comes from knowing you have to do something horrible and trying not to think about it too much.

"Athena?" Tristan turns his head to look at me, and his eyes are clear and focused. "Are you ready?"

Am I ready? No, I'll never be ready to watch someone I love die. I'll never be ready to see him in pain because of me, because of what I am and what I can't control.

But that's not what he's asking.

He's asking if I'm ready to save him, if I'm ready to try to use this cursed power for something good for the first time in my life.

"I'm ready," I say, and I try to put all my conviction into those two words.

Orion positions himself next to Tristan's chest, kneeling on the mattress with the knife in his right hand. The blade looks huge in his hands, deadly and final and wrong.

"On three?" Derek suggests, but his voice is tight with stress.

Tristan shakes his head quickly. "Don't count, just do it. Counting will make it worse."

Sarah's hand finds mine and squeezes, her palm is sweaty, but so is mine. We're both terrified, both trying to be strong for the people we love.

Orion raises the knife, and the blade catches the light and throws it back at us in sharp flashes.

His whole body is tense, and I can see the muscles in his arm trembling with the effort of holding the weapon steady.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and there are tears running down his face.

Then he brings it down.

The sound it makes going into Tristan's chest is wet and horrible, like tearing fabric but so much worse. It's the sound of metal cutting through skin and muscle and everything that's supposed to stay inside a body.

Tristan's back arches off the mattress, and a scream tears out of his throat that doesn't sound human.

It's raw and desperate and full of pain that goes beyond anything I've ever heard before. The sound goes right through me and settles in my bones, and I know I'll hear it in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

Blood starts spreading across his chest immediately, dark red and too much of it. It soaks into the white sheet under him and spreads outward in a circle that keeps getting bigger.

"Hold him down," Derek says urgently, throwing his weight across Tristan's legs as his body starts to convulse.

Orion drops the knife and grabs Tristan's shoulders, pressing him back against the mattress with all his strength. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he keeps repeating, and his voice is broken and desperate.

Tristan's eyes are wide and wild, darting around the room like he doesn't know where he is anymore. His breathing is coming in short, sharp gasps that sound painful, and there's blood on his lips now.

"It's okay," I hear myself saying, even though nothing about this is okay. "It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay."

But it's not okay, it's the opposite of okay. I'm watching the person I love most in the world dying in front of me, and it's my fault. This is happening because of me, because of what I am and what I need to prove.

Sarah's arm comes around my shoulders, and I realize I'm swaying on my feet. The room feels like it's tilting, and I have to concentrate on staying upright.

"Stay with us, Athena," she says firmly. "He needs you to stay focused."

Tristan's body starts to shake, and I can see the moment when his wolf tries to surface. His muscles bulge and his bones start to shift under his skin, and his face begins to elongate.

"No," Derek says sharply, pressing down harder on his legs. "Don't shift, the wolfsbane will kill you if you shift."

But I don't think Tristan can hear him anymore. His eyes have gone completely wolf, golden and desperate and filled with pain. His body is fighting against what's happening to it, trying to heal itself in the only way it knows how.

The problem is that shifting will spread the wolfsbane through his system faster, and it'll kill him in seconds instead of minutes.

Orion leans his full weight on Tristan's shoulders, trying to hold him in human form through sheer force. "Stay human, stay with us, don't let the wolf take over."

The sound Tristan makes is half human, half wolf, and all pain. It's the worst thing I've ever heard in my life, worse than his initial scream, because this sound is hopeless.

"How long?" I ask Derek, but my voice comes out as barely a whisper.

"Not long now, his breathing is already slowing down. The wolfsbane is working faster than I expected."

He's right, the gasps that were coming fast and sharp are getting slower now. Deeper but more spaced out, like his body is having to work harder to remember how to breathe.

"Tristan," I call out, stepping closer to the mattress. "Can you hear me?"

His golden eyes find mine, and for a second they're completely human again. Completely him, not the wolf or the pain or the dying, just Tristan looking at me with love and trust.

"I love you," I say, and tears start streaming down my face. "I love you so much, more than anything in the world."

He tries to say something back, his lips move and his throat works, but no words come out. Just a wet, gasping sound that makes my chest feel like it's caving in.

Blood is still flowing from the wound in his chest, soaking through the towels that Derek keeps pressing against it. His skin is getting pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes that weren't there before.

His breathing slows down even more, and the spaces between each breath get longer and longer. I find myself holding my breath during the pauses, waiting for his chest to rise again.

"Athena," Derek says urgently, and his voice cuts through my panic. "It's time."