Page 158 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“If they catch you first, they prove I cannot guard the bond.”

“And then?”

My hands closed around the sheet because I needed them closed around something that was not an enemy’s throat.

“They will kill you.”

She looked at me for a long second, then she nodded once, slow and almost calm.

“Oh,” she said. “Of course it’s that.”

The steadiness in her voice was worse than panic.

“Cassie.”

“No, it makes sense now. In the worst possible way, obviously, but at least the math is finally showing its work.”

“I will not let them reach you.”

The wolf put truth under the words so deep the bond carried it like a vow. Cassie felt it. Her fear didn’t vanish, but it changed shape around my certainty.

“You’re very sure,” she said.

“Yes.”

“That should probably scare me.”

“Yes.”

“It does.”

I accepted that because she deserved room for fear. Then her hand moved back to my chest.

“It also helps,” she said quietly.

Before I could answer, the outer door opened.

Ronan entered first.

Sava came behind him with her medical bag, already speaking. “She needs fluids before anything else, and I do not care which ancient schedule feels inconvenienced by hydration.”

Then both of them stopped. Cassie sat in bed with the sheet held to her chest, hair loose around her shoulders, the bandage visible above the edge of the fabric. I sat beside her shirtless, thankfully I had put on pants during the night, one hand still near hers.

Sava’s eyes moved over us once.

Ronan’s face went cold. It was not surprise. Ronan rarely wasted effort on surprise. It was calculation hitting fury.

“What did you do?” he asked.

Cassie stiffened.

The wolf rose so fast my vision sharpened. I stood from the bed and put myself between them before thought finished forming.

Ronan’s gaze moved from my face to my bare chest, then to Cassie behind me. His voice dropped. “Ian.”

“She chose.”

The words were quiet. They were also the first line of a war.