Page 77 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

Ronan held my gaze. “No.”

I didn’t believe him and he knew it.

Good.

Ian stepped forward half a pace. “I will not let them kill you.”

I looked at him and the room seemed to narrow around that promise. His wolf believed it. I could feel that somehow. The mark pulsed under my bandage, warm and satisfied, as if it had been waiting for him to say exactly that.

That frightened me more than Ronan. Ronan’s threats made sense. Old law, secrecy, pack survival. Monsters with reasons were still monsters, but at least the shape was recognizable.

Ian’s promise came from a place reason had not reached.

“If your protecting me gets my family killed,” I said, “then you are not protecting me.” I forced myself to keep going, because this mattered more than pain. “My father does not become collateral because you feel guilty. Tessa does not die because she picked the wrong man and the wrong resort. Aunt Linda does not get eaten because she correctly hates Grant. Even Grant, and I cannot overstate how much I resent this, does not get slaughtered because you have feelings about him.”

Ian’s jaw worked once.

“They hurt you,” he said.

I smiled a little, and it hurt my cracked lip. “That is an extremely crowded category, Ian.”

His name came out before I could stop it and I saw his eyes changed, not fully gold, but human enough to show the impact.

I looked away first.

“Your family remains safe if you follow restrictions,” Ronan said.

I turned back to him slowly. “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The threat in a clean shirt.”

He didn’t deny it.

Of course he didn’t.

Ronan was horrible, but he saved everyone time by refusing to pretend otherwise.

“You will not contact anyone without supervision,” he said. “You will not leave this suite without Ian, Sava, or my direct guard. You will not tell your family what you saw. You will not attempt to cross to the west side.”

“And if I do?”

Ian made a low sound but Ronan ignored him. “Then I make whatever choice protects the pack.”

I looked at Ian. “And you?”

His gaze held mine. He knew what I was asking. If I ran, would he drag me back? If Ronan ordered him to stop me, would he obey? If I screamed for my father, would he cover my mouth?

“I do not know,” he said.

The honesty hurt worse than an easy lie would have because I believed it. He didn’t know. He was a man split down the middle by duty and a wolf that had already chosen a side.

I leaned back against the pillow. My body was shaking now, and no amount of pride could hide it. Sava noticed. Ian noticed. Ronan noticed because he noticed everything that might later become useful.

“I chased a dog,” I said, my voice sounding so far away. “I came here because my sister cried and my dad asked if I was good and my mother wanted me to make the weekend easier for everyone. I wore the dress. I sat through the toast. I let Grant make me look bitter because it was less exhausting than proving him cruel.”

The shaking worsened but I could not stop it.