Page 233 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“I’ll try.”

“No.” Her fingers tightened. “You come back.”

My throat closed.

“I’ll try harder,” I said.

She nodded like that was acceptable, because sometimes mothers accepted lies when the truth was too large to hold.

Tessa stepped forward and grabbed my hand. “Is he worth this?”

I looked toward the corridor as the pain tore through my chest again.

Ian was farther away.

Less human.

“Yes,” I said. “He is.”

Tessa let go.

I turned before anyone could say something that would make me weaker.

Sava stayed at my side and we went back into the resort.

Every step back through the service corridor hurt more than the last. My body knew I was doing something stupid and was trying to register an official complaint. The mark burned under my sweater. Blood ran warm down my side where the stitches had opened. I kept one hand on the wall and one hand around the silver blade Sava had shoved at me.

“Soft parts,” she said as we moved.

“What?”

“If something gets past me. Stab soft parts.”

“I was hoping for more instruction.”

“You have enthusiasm. Use that.”

“I am not enthusiastic. I am furious.”

“Even better.”

The sound from the courtyard changed before we reached it. The battle was ending, which should have been good.

It was not.

The roar that came next shook dust from the service arch.

It was Ian. Or what was left of him.

I stumbled, and Sava grabbed me before I hit the wall.

“He’s gone feral,” she said.

“No.”

“Cassie.”

“No.”