"Ethan…" I whispered. My hands trembled by my side. I howled painfully, as I rewatched the horror.
My hatred towards the witches and the other creatures intensified. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
The battlefield had become scanty as only a few creatures were still up and fighting.
My younger self came running back into camp in his wolf form, his furs were soaked in blood. He howled in pain from a distance, as he had felt the mate bond with his father broken.
His eyes widened in horror, he transformed into his human form, and knelt beside Ethan and tried to shake him awake.
"Stay with me," my younger self said with a shaking voice. "Don't you dare die."
Ethan groaned. "She's still in the tent," he whispered. "Emelia's helping my mate… promise me, Damon… promise me you'll take care of her."
"No… survive and take care of her yourself."
"Damon… please… this is my last request." Ethan held his face with his bloodied hand.
"I promise," my younger self choked.
