Werewolves
Catalina
Yuki’s note came on her personal stationery, handwritten.
New quarters assigned. Eastern wing, third floor. Move at your convenience. Y.
I read it twice, mostly because the first time the words refused to assemble in the correct order. New quarters. Eastern wing. Move. Convenience. That last one almost made me laugh.
Rhain had been asleep beside me until ten minutes ago. Criminally peaceful sleep. Offensive sleep. Sleep where a person closed his eyes and simply left consciousness, like that was a normal and available service offered to everyone.
Dominic had come off protective watch at six and gone to sleep in the small enforcer room across the hall, because apparently he also belonged to the category of people whose bodies accepted instructions. Mine did not.
Sleep would not come for me. I had lain down, tried breathing, counted backward, then forward, then considered whether numbers were part of the problem.
Nothing. I stayed exactly where I was, awake inside a body that had decided rest was a trap.
Ninety-six hours awake did strange things to language. At some point, words stopped being tools and became objects someone had left too far across the room.
My hands were not steady, and my pulse beat too fast at my temple, sharp enough that I could count it without trying. One hundred and ten, give or take. The room kept arriving at me a fraction late.
I sat up, and the room slid sideways before reconsidering and coming back.
Rhain turned his head when I moved. His hand had been resting against my hip in the same slow, steady pressure he had used for the last few days. Touch as an anchor.
“What is it?”
“Yuki moved us.”
His brows lifted slightly. “Moved us.”
“New quarters. Eastern wing, third floor.”
“Now?”
“Before lunch, apparently.” I held up the card. “She says eastern wing like that means something.”
“It does.”
“Good something or Ashenmere something?”
His thumb brushed my hip. “Both.”
“Unhelpful.”
“Accurate.”
“Rhain.”
His expression softened, just enough to make the room feel less tilted. “Eastern wing, third floor, means privacy. Distance from the council chamber. Distance from the public corridors. A suite, likely. One with an antechamber large enough for Graves to guard without sleeping in a broom closet.”
“That sounds thoughtful.”
“It is.”
“And?”
“And Yuki does very little for only one reason.”
