“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “And you aren’t the first person who I shared a bed with who tried to kill me. You can’t give yourself that much credit.”
“Really? It’s common for you to wake up in the middle of the night with your lover trying to murder you with magic?” Cade stepped close, his magic wrapping around us familiarly.
“Usually, it’s with claws. Although one time, it was really bad cooking.” I breathed in the scent of Cade, listening to his steady heartbeat. My own heart raced, the feeling of panic unrelenting, as though even with him in front of me, I couldn’t quite believe he was there.
He seemed to feel the same, wrapping both arms around me tightly, squeezing. I bit back a yelp when his fingers brushed the open wounds on my back. It was worth it to be touching him again, to press my nose into his hair and sniff.
His magic swirled around us, and we weren’t even in the world; we were in our own separate universe until we suddenly weren’t.
“Oh my god,” Rhys yelped.
Slowly, Cade and I detangled from each other.
“Sweetheart, what did you do?” Rhys had a hand to their chest, mouth open and gaping at me.
We were in a small shop, a pedestal in the center, surrounded by full-length mirrors. The shades were drawn over the large plate-glass windows, but subtle lighting illuminated a sophisticated interior. Everything was soft, dark colors.
The walls were lined with every kind of clothing you could imagine: jackets, shirts, slacks, skirts, and dresses. Nia slouched in a comfortable chair in the corner, briefly looking up from her phone to make a face at me.
Lip slightly pulled, eyebrow raised, nostrils flaring, she was unimpressed with my injuries and thought I could do better.
“There was an accident at the house,” Cade said.
“Anaccident?” Rhys circled me, then gestured for me to step onto the pedestal. “Because I heard every member of the council disappeared into a closed-door meeting a few hours ago. But I’msurethat hasnothingto do with this.”
“Can you fix him up, or do we need to go to the doctor?” Cade asked sharply.
“Is that a threat? That butcher wouldn’t know what to do with an injured werewolf if it literally bit him in the ass.” Rhys approached and patted my shoulder. “Not that you would ever dream of doing such a thing. He’s bony as hell, and you seem like a boy who enjoys his meat fresh.”
In the mirror, Rhys winked and pointedly glanced at Cade.
Then they stepped back and assessed me again. “Nia, sweetheart, I’m going to need you.”
Immediately, she stood, sliding her phone into an impossibly small pocket in her skinny jeans. She stalked over to us and laid her arm across Rhys’s shoulders.
I watched in the mirror as Rhys considered me again.
“I don’t suppose he has time for a shower?” Rhys asked.
“No.” I didn’t even glance at Cade. Whoever was trying to kill him had made a move, a dangerous one. Now that they had tipped their hand, we were running on borrowed time until they tried again.
“Of course not. Well, just from looking at you, I can see that someone put you through the wringer.” They reached out, taking my injured arm. “Literally?”
“Something like that,” I said.
“Of course. So opaque! Why would I ever expect anything else?” Rhys rolled their eyes. “It’s no wonder the two of you wear black. What other color could you wear and maintain all of your aura of mystery?”
With some nudging, Rhys helped me out of the shreds of my shirt and pants. After I promised there were no injuries beneath my underwear, they let me keep them on.
“I’ll be honest. I can fix you up, heal most of this, but I don’t have enough power to also make you as glamorous as I know you are, Consort Bartlett.” Rhys grimaced. “And I’ll have to cancel the rest of my appointments, so I’ll expect some compensation?”
“You will be well compensated,” Cade said. “Get started.”
Rhys’s face tightened at the order, but they reached up in the air, throwing a hand upward. Petals rained down on me, a shower made entirely of magic.
In the mirror, I watched the cuts and bruises on my hands disappear, and the skin on my right hand went from purple to its normal sandstone beige. I turned my body so I could see my back in the mirror. The shredded skin was healing, the wounds closing up as though it had been days, then weeks, and then suddenly, the skin was smooth, not a single scar.
“Well,” Rhys panted breathlessly. “Good enough?”
