I clenched my jaw, not responding. As much as I hated to admit it… he was right. I wasn’t exactly thinking with my upstairs brain right now. I needed to maintain my composure and get answers. But it was pretty damn clear I was distracted.
Nix stepped up to the bathroom door, laying a hand against it as he called through the wood panel, “Hey… Rowan? We didn’t mean to scare you. Orsen never should have grabbed you like that.” His voice was all soft and gentle, like when he spoke to young children or injured animals. Part of me hated him for how easily he could console, while another part was angry with him for not being as furious as I was.
“Is Griff okay?” Her voice was weak and teary, despite her efforts to sound strong. It hit me hard, harder than I wanted it to.
I’d spent years trying to make myself hate her to dull the pain, to pretend she hadn’t meant the world to me so that I could fucking get up in the morning, but I never wanted to be the reason my mate cried. Regardless of the fury and hurt, keeping Emmeline—or Rowan, I supposed—from experiencing pain was still ingrained in my DNA.
Then again, I couldn’t help but wonder whether her tears weregenuine. Though they seemed to be, the whole situation was ludicrous. Could I really trust what she was saying? From everything I could tell, she hadn’t died or been taken hostage. She’d left us… left me.
I glanced over at Nix, who narrowed his eyes at me, then turned back to the door. As far as I knew, her precious Griffin was being seen to by other members of the horde. He’d still been breathing when a handful of our enforcers had pulled me off him, so I assumed he was fine. Dragons healed fast, after all.
“He’s fine…” Nix went back to that gentle tone. “I have to ask; do you know me?”
Rowan growled in frustration. “No, I’ve never met any of you psychopaths. Why are you so pissed at me?”
Banging and the shuffling of feet sounded through the door, the distinctive noise of creaking hinges and cabinets. She was searching the bathroom.
Smart girl.
“We aren’t mad at you, not at all,” Nix rushed to say.
“Looked like it to me! Though it wasn’t exactly clear whether yourferalfriend was pissed or just horny!” Rowan shouted, her voice taking on a familiar, adorable groan.
Despite the gravity of the situation, the corner of my mouth twitched. Our mate had always been a feisty one, and I remembered liking that quite a bit. It may have dimmed the bright glare of my anger, but it wasn’t gone. She still had a hell of a lot to answer for.
Nix chuckled lightly, rolling his lips between his teeth. “Both.”
I glared at him.
“He’s… stressed. I’m sorry.We’resorry. That won’t happen again. I promise.”
“You’resorry? I came here to help your horde, and instead, that asshole beats up my best friend and mauls me?” Her voice was muffled by the bathroom door, but there was no mistaking the annoyance.
At this rate, it had to be better if I just tore the fucking doordown, and we had this conversation face-to-face. This was ridiculous. She was our mate, for fuck’s sake. But then her words registered.
“Wait.You’rethe healer? The one who helped Griffin?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Griffin had called us, asking to bring in a healer friend to the den to help with the sick kid. I had been against it at first, but we all knew he’d survived some pretty severe injuries when out west. If his healer had saved his life, we wanted to hear their opinion.
How in the hell could that be Emmeline, though? She had been in college to become a preschool teacher before she’d… gone missing. She loved kids and balked at the sight of blood.
“Yes, I came here to help Rory. I was told you approved that.” As she spoke, it was easy to hear her scampering around the bathroom, ripping everything open. Then metallic clattering, followed by a hiss, made my ears perk up.
“We did—umm, what was that noise, sweetheart?” Nix asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Rowan?” I pushed when she didn’t respond.
Still nothing.
My chest tightened. Instincts were flaring that had been dormant for so long. I remembered this feeling, the need to hear her voice again, to know she was okay. I had lost my mate once, and I wasnotgoing to let it happen again—even if she didn’t know who she was. I reached out to grab the door handle, intent on ripping the fucking thing off its hinges, when she finally spoke.
“I stubbed my toe,” Rowan mumbled, a clear lie. So many years ago, I’d seen Emmeline walk into a piece of furniture. She’d danced around on the spot, clutching her foot and declaring the coffee table was now her sworn enemy, muttering PG curse words, likecheese and rice, over and over again.
I wasn’t sure what she was lying about, or why she’d bothered, but her defiance was unfortunately endearing. It shouldn’t have been, but that was the power a mate had over a dragon.
“You should be careful, then,” I whispered to the door, my voice unusually soft.
“I highly doubt a stubbed toe is the biggest of my concerns at present,” Rowan snarked.
