“Thanks.” Emmaline started, but before she could continue, Lara moved in.
The Corgi shoved her snout into Emmaline’s chest, sniffing deep, pressing her weight forward as if scent alone could pin her in place.
“Hey!” Emmaline huffed a laugh, trying to push the giant creature away.
“That’s not a hangover, Cas.” Lara sniffed once more before stepping back, her expression unreadable.
Emmaline’s stomach tightened. “It’s nothing.”
Lara knew something. Smelled something. But Emmaline couldn’t—wouldn’t—talk about it.
“You sure?” The teasing edge in Cassidy’s tone had vanished. “Looks like a hangover to me.”
“That is because you are not a Corgi.” Lara let out a massive exhale before rolling her eyes so dramatically it was a wonder her entire body didn’t follow. “You are virtually scent-blind.”
Cassidy shot her an unimpressed look.
“Really, guys. It’s nothing.” Emmaline took a careful step back.
Cassidy’s head jerked up, her entire posture shifting. Then she looked at Lara. “What is it?”
Lara’s ears twitched, her dark eyes narrowing. “Not sure. I need a better look, but she’s clearly rattled.”
Emmaline’s heart lurched. She didn’t want their concern. She didn’t want their pity. She didn’t deserve it. And she definitely didn’t want them getting involved, because if they did, they would try to stop her.
She didn’t need saving. She needed vengeance. Her fingers dug into her palms. She had to distract them.
“I…” She steadied her breath. “I killed Lady Allistair.”
Cassidy stiffened, and Lara’s massive head swung toward her. “You what?”
Emmaline’s throat tightened, but she refused to look away.
“I killed her,” she repeated, the words like lead on her tongue. “It was an accident. I was… jealous of her relationship with Caelith.”
The moment the name left her lips, a violent wave of nausea rolled through her. Her stomach clenched, and her vision swam.
“I just wanted her to trip. To embarrass her.” She clamped her teeth down against the nausea, forcing herself to continue. “But she flew right into the statue.”
Lara’s mouth fell open. “You what?”
“It was over before I even knew what was happening,” Emmaline finished.
Lara sat back onto her haunches, studying Emmaline, then Cassidy, then back again.
“That’s what you’ve been keeping from me?” Her voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “Why our healing has been off?”
“Emmaline had hoped to prove Caelith was her mate by the Solstice.” Cassidy nodded, fingers wringing together, worry etched across her face. “Which would, theoretically, protect her from punishment for the accidental death.”
Lara let out a deep breath, her massive chest rising and falling in measured control.
“Her mate?” she repeated slowly.
Heat crawled up Emmaline’s neck, flushing her cheeks with mortification.
Goddess above.Hearing it aloud now—after everything, after Deyric—felt deranged, like something only a fool, or a madwoman, would have believed.Her fingers dug into the back of a kitchen chair, gripping it for balance as the shame settled deep in her belly.
Lara turned to her again. “It was an accident?”
