Page 55 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“Right. Because I tripped into a dental emergency.”

Ronan’s patience showed its first thin crack. “If you want your father alive and calm, you will stop sharpening every sentence long enough to understand that the lie is protecting him.”

That landed. I hated that it landed. My anger wanted clean enemies. It wanted Ronan to be a monster, Ian to be a monster, the room to be a room I could escape if I found the right handle. Instead, everything came tangled. Ronan’s threat was real. His logic was real too. Ian had harmed me. Ian had kept me alive. My father deserved truth. Truth might get him killed.

I closed my eyes. For a moment, I was not in the east suite. I was back on the terrace with my bare feet under the table, watching Grant turn betrayal into a toast while everyone nodded because flowers made cruelty digestible.

Absorb it, Cassie.

Be reasonable, Cassie.

Do not make this harder, Cassie.

My eyes opened.

“I write it,” I said. “You read it.”

Ronan considered me. Then he nodded to the nurse. She crossed to a small cabinet, opened a drawer, and took out my phone sealed inside a clear plastic bag with my earrings, a broken heel strap, and a torn scrap of blush chiffon.

Evidence of my old life.

The nurse handed the bag to Ronan. Ronan removed the phone and checked the screen before passing it to me. His thumb hovered near the edge a second too long.

I looked at him. “Are you reading my notifications?”

“Yes.”

“Rude.”

“Necessary.”

“My password is none of your business.”

“I do not need your password.”

I stared at him as the phone unlocked in his hand.

Of course it did.

A laugh tried to come up and failed halfway. “Great. Wolves have hacking skills.”

Ronan gave me the phone. My hands shook when I took it. There were twenty-eight missed calls. Twelve from Dad. Seven from Mom. Five from Tessa. Three from Aunt Linda. One from a number I didn’t recognize and already hated because I knew Grant had not lost access to me, only subtlety.

My throat tightened before I could stop it.

Dad’s last text sat on the screen.

Dad: Cassie, I am in the lobby. They will not let me see you. Text me one word and I will know you sent it.

One word. One word and I will know you sent it. He had always understood that proof mattered more than reassurance.

My vision blurred and I blinked hard because crying in front of werewolves felt like giving the room dessert.

Ian turned his face away.

I typed slowly because my fingers didn’t fully belong to me yet.

Dad, it’s me. I’m awake. I fell hard chasing Henry and I’m being treated for a wound and possible concussion. I’m angry, which should reassure you. Henry is safe with Tessa. I need you to stay calm for me and keep Aunt Linda from committing anything prosecutable until I can talk. I love you.