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I PACED THE WORN-OUThardwood floor, waiting for him to arrive. Every so often, I looked over at the bed, thanking every single high-and-mighty spirit that she slept.
I shouldn’t have slept with her. If she hadn’t been pregnant, then maybe she’d have survived this. And now Waleron may have to kill her.
I was so fucked up thinking about the possibility of her death that I didn’t even hear, see, or scent Waleron enter the cottage until he was in the room standing behind me.
“How long has it been?” Waleron demanded as he walked past me and went directly to the bed.
I stopped pacing. “I don’t know. Six months. Eternity. Too fuckin’ long,” I said, taking a step toward the door.
Waleron didn’t turn as he said, “Don’t even think about it, Damien. Explain why I am hearing about this six months after the fact.” He leaned over the bed, his hand on Abby’s forehead.
“We thought—”
“We?”
Fuck. There was no way around this. “Jedrik, Delara, and I. Well, Balen knows about it, too, and Danni.” I swallowed. “And Anstice and Keir.”
“So everyone.”
“Yeah.” I started for the door. “I need to get some air.”
“Not until I have answers.” Waleron still had his hand on her forehead, probably trying to put her in DS—deep sleep. It would allow her peace from any pain—for a few hours. But her bloodthirst would overtake the DS soon enough.
“Abby is a witch.” I hesitated then added the part he’d be seriously pissed at. “From Trinity’s coven.”
Waleron’s eyes went icicle as he turned his attention to me. “I know exactly who she is. I want to know what the hell she’s doing in this cottage half-dead and in Transition.”
Shit. “It’s complicated.” Waleron glared. “She is carrying my child. Well—was until last night. She lost it.” That sounded so bad. “We’re here because she drank Liam’s blood and we’ve been trying to keep her from Transitioning.”
Waleron’s brows rose, but he remained silent. It was his Ink that caught my attention as its eyes blazed red and the snake slithered slowly around his neck. Shit, he was livid.
Then I told him everything that had gone down from Abby asking Jedrik for help, up to this moment.
Waleron never said a word. Never moved a muscle. Didn’t even blink until I finished speaking.
“And why has Liam not raised hell looking for her?” Waleron asked.
I shrugged.
“Seems unlikely he would let her walk away with no recourse, especially if she was important to him. And she must be in order to let her drink his blood and risk retaliation from us and the witches.”
“Don’t know.” Jedrik and Delara—who I suspected would both be getting a surprise visit from Waleron—could explain that one.
Waleron walked away from the bed and approached me. He ran his finger down his neck over the tattoo and the snake stilled. “Detox has never been done before.”
“But Balen—”
“Balen is a Scar and he had good reason to fight the poison. What does this girl have? Her child is dead. Her coven will not allow her to return after discovering what she’s done. Liam—most likely—will turn on her if she doesn’t Transition. So, tell me, what does she have in order to bring her through this?”
“Fuck, Waleron. I don’t know. I barely know the girl.”
“Then figure it out,” he growled. “She needs a reason to fight or it will eat her alive and then kill her.”
I shoved away from the wall I was leaning against. “I can’t do it anymore. Jesus, Waleron, she’s in so much pain. We should consider letting her…” Shit, I couldn’t say it. It was wrong, and yet I couldn’t watch her suffer anymore.
Waleron quirked a brow. “You believe it would be easier if you let the Transition occur?”
“Yeah. Shit, yeah.” Either that or kill her.
