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dreams, telling him what to do. As of late, she’d been silent, but the nightmares became more and more intense. Ironically, it all began ten years back, upon meeting Clay.
    Now, almost every night, Klaus saw Wolfram dead or himself holding Clay’s lifeless body. Often, he sensed another presence there, lingering at the edge of his consciousness, fueling his terror. Each and every time, he woke up drenched in sweat, sobbing and just as helpless as when he’d gone to sleep.
    All the scouts they’d sent so far to look for Clay had come up with nothing. Who was this Ross? How did he manage to get such a strong hold on the young spirit wolf? Guilt swelled hot inside Klaus’s chest.
    He knew how. Klaus himself pushed Clay away, and Ross took advantage of Klaus’s stupidity and insinuated himself in Clay’s fragile, broken heart.
    But regrets were useless now. He needed a plan, something to help him find his mate. He knew Joseph must be behind Ross’s sudden appearance. Now, more than ever, destroying the feral turned into a priority.
    Joseph Garou—formerly known as Dupont—proved to be just as elusive as Clay. His attacks came and went with a speed and organization that belied his out-of-control nature. They’d tried to find Star-Crossed Mates
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    him ever since he’d attempted to attack the Magistrate and his mates, but to no avail. Klaus felt horrified at the notion that they might have the same ill luck with Clay.
    The shrill sound of a phone ringing snapped him out of his musings. Klaus got up and picked up his cell. It felt odd and foreign in his hand, and Klaus’s stomach turned when he recalled all the times Clay had called in the weeks prior to his disappearance. Klaus ignored him, believing they needed the time apart to get things into perspective. He’d been such a fool, such a selfish fool.
    As he took the call, Klaus knew it must be another soldier with a report. Still, he couldn’t help but be just a bit excited. Perhaps one of these days, Clay might contact him. “Hello. Klaus Fleischer here.”
    The voice at the other side of the connection sounded hesitant.
    “Hi, Klaus,” Clay said. “It’s me. Are you alone?”
    Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. It was, indeed, his mate. For a moment, Clay’s question didn’t even register. “I’m alone,” he finally managed to reply. Klaus took a deep breath and focused on calming his racing heart. “Where are you, Clay? What’s going on?”
    “I’m fine,” Clay answered. “We’re fine. I just…” There was a brief pause at the other side of the connection as if Clay were considering his words.
    “What?” Klaus prodded. “What is it?”
    “Okay, so we’re not exactly fine. We need your help, Klaus.”
    Klaus didn’t like the sound of that. “By we I assume you mean yourself and this Ross person.”
    He knew he’d said the wrong thing the moment a deep sigh sounded from Clay. “Please, Klaus. Just don’t. Ross is sick, and you’re the only one who can save him.”
    Of course. Ross was feral. “How have you been controlling him all this time?”
    “My bite helps him, keeps it in check for a couple of hours, but it’s getting worse.” Clay’s voice trembled. “I beg of you, Klaus.
    There’s no one else we can turn to.”

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    Scarlet Hyacinth
    What could Klaus do? He agreed.

    * * * *

    The Irish pub bustled with activity, filled to the brim with intoxicated humans. The laughter of the customers seemed to mock Clay’s glum mood. He stole a look at his pale mate, taking in Ross’s sweaty forehead. Soon, Ross would fall into one of his fits again.
    Clay’s bite would no longer be enough to keep the virus at bay.
    Clay had known this would happen. He’d heard the stories and learned a lot about the disease simply from living in the same house with Andrew Blunt. It was amazing what one could find out when so few people paid him any heed.
    Oh, his parents loved him, and so did his siblings. But other than Amy, no one really knew