Greykin Valley

| 90 | Patient Zero

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| Jackson |

The weight of Tokala's death bore down on Jackson's shoulders like an insurmountable burden, an oppressive force that stifled the air in the hall. The atmosphere lay shrouded in a suffocating silence, a haunting stillness that mirrored the emptiness left in Tokala's absence.

No one dared to break the silence. No words offered solace, and no movement disrupted the collective grief that hung in the air. The pack stood motionless, each member encapsulated in their individual prisons of despair. Their Zeta, their second-in-command, and their beloved friend—gone. Taken right in front of them, his life extinguished like a flickering flame. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on every heart, and the shadow of grief loomed large over the pack.

Even someone as powerful as Raphael, the stalwart protector, had been rendered powerless in the face of the tragedy. His strength, normally an unyielding shield, had failed to save Tokala from the clutches of death. The unspoken realization of their vulnerability and mortality hung in the air, a bitter taste that lingered on their tongues.

Jackson's gaze drifted around the hall, seeking solace or understanding, but there was none to be found. The absence of Tokala's presence echoed louder than any spoken words could convey. The once-unbreakable bond and unyielding determination of the pack now felt fragile and frayed, the threads of unity unravelling with each passing moment.

The ache of loss settled deep within Jackson's aching chest, a searing pain that resonated with the hollow emptiness of the lab's entry hall. In the quietude, the weight of grief pressed upon their collective souls, and the realization that they couldn't turn back time or undo the irrevocable shattered their hearts.

As the stillness lingered, an unspoken understanding passed through the pack—a mournful acknowledgment that life had been forever altered, and they were left to grapple with the harsh reality that their Zeta had been taken from them, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill.

"We need to start the search," Raphael said, breaking the silence.

"Just give them a few moments, man," Amos muttered.

"We don't have a few moments. The longer we wait, the more ammo those turrets use up; eventually, they'll run out, and the cadejo will breach the fences."

Jackson wanted to yell at Raphael—he was such an insensitive asshole—but not only did he not have the strength, he also knew that if he did that, he'd get another broken leg.

"Hey," came Wilson's voice.

He sharply turned his head and set his eyes on his friend, who was in his human form and carrying a rifle.

"Are you all right?"

Jackson hung his head in shame.

Wilson frowned and said, "I'm sorry, Jack. I know he was your friend."

"Move along," Damon then snarled, appearing at Jackson's side.

For a moment, Wilson glared at him, but he didn't argue. He turned around and walked over to Sebastien.

Jackson didn't have the strength to argue with his mate, either. He didn't have the strength to do anything.

"Come on," Raphael called as he shifted into his human form. "We need to start searching."

"There's an elevator that'll take us to the lower levels," Sebastien said.

"Now," the orange-haired man insisted.