Page 254 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

I stared at her and she glared at me.

I lifted both hands. “Fine. I am leaving. Enjoy your nice wolf.”

“Cassie.”

I walked away laughing quietly, one hand pressed to my side.

Ian waited at the end of the hall.

“You are pleased,” he said.

“My sister is exchanging numbers with a werewolf less than six hours after canceling her wedding. I am many things.”

“Concerned?”

“A little.”

“Amused?”

“Deeply.”

“Hypocritical?”

I stopped. He looked down at me, face solemn, but the bond gave him away. He was teasing me.

Ian was teasing me.

The man had nearly died, shifted into a giant murder wolf, confessed a permanent mate bond in front of my family, and now he was making jokes with his face barely moving.

I pointed at him. “Careful. I am fragile and vengeful.”

“I know.”

“You like that.”

“Yes.”

That warmed me in a place no pain could reach.

Later, Ronan found me alone on the covered terrace. Sava had ordered Ian into a shower because blood was not an accessory, and I had been given exactly eight minutes of unsupervised air after swearing on my future bodily cooperation that I would not climb stairs, argue with elders, or chase anyone.

The lake beyond the terrace was gray under the afternoon sky. The island looked beautiful from a distance. That felt rude after everything it had done.

Ronan stepped out quietly.

I didn’t turn. “If you are here to throw me off the balcony, I am going to be very annoyed. I just got the bandage changed.”

“I am not here to throw you off the balcony.”

“Good. I am very tired.”

He stood beside me at the railing.

For a while, neither of us spoke. Ronan was easier to understand in silence. In speech, he wore Alpha formality like armor. In silence, the edges showed. Exhaustion. Grief. Worry he had not earned the right to put down.

“I thanked Sava,” he said. “I thanked Cormac.”

“I hope Cormac was annoying about it.”