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Everything was black-and-white to him, there was no gray. Dhampir took emotionless to a whole new level. “Well, thank you.”

They didn’t feel or express emotion at all. His sister and my friend Luna did now, but only after she’d met her mate. Ronan wasn’t so lucky, but somewhere along the way, he’d given his loyalty to the hounds and seemed to be accepted by them as well.

He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, folded his shirt, and placed it on the back of Roe’s chair. My sister gazed up at him, her cheeks still pink, getting pinker when her gaze dipped, taking in his chest.

Ronan paused and looked down at her as well, his head tilting to the side, studying her. Rose’s blue eyes widened a moment before Ronan moved, quick, fluid, and placed his hand to the speeding pulse at her throat. “There’s something wrong with you. You’re unwell.”

Humiliation transformed Rose’s face.

“Ronan, brother, no,” Relic said.

Ronan turned to Relic.

“This is one of those times, my man,” Relic said cryptically.

Ronan’s brow lifted, and he turned back to Rose. “My apologies.”

He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, it was obvious from his puzzled expression.

“It’s fine,” Roe said and quickly turned away, struggling to her feet. I jumped up to grab her when she looked like she’d fall.

Ronan got there first, scooping her up in his arms. “Where would you like to go, Rose?”

“Please…I’m fine,” Roe whispered. “I can walk.”

“You’re not fine,” Ronan said matter-of-factly. “You’re sick, and you weigh nothing.”

I tried to step in, but Mom got there faster. “Just into the living room, thank you, Ronan.”

Rose hated how skinny she’d become; she didn’t even like to be hugged anymore. Having a gorgeous male like Ronan lift her, touch her, and actually mention her weight, would be utterly mortifying to her. My heart hurt at the pained look in her eyes as they disappeared into the other room.

Ronan returned a short time later, his expression stoic, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t read.

“On your knees,” Else said to him.

Iris’s eyes met mine across the table, and she looked as worried about Roe as I felt.

Else didn’t take long to tattoo Ronan, and by the time the last hound was being inked, the room had cleared out.

When she finally finished, my great aunt looked up at the hellhound alpha standing beside me, flexing her fingers, and winced. “You’re next, big boy.”

“Your hand’s causing you pain,” he said. “Willow can do mine.”

Else put down the tattoo gun and shook her hand out. “Sounds good to me. My arthritis is acting up.”

Warrick’s brother left, Else behind him, leaving the two of us alone. “You well enough to do this?” he asked.

“Yes. Honestly, I’m fine.” Physically, I felt almost back to normal. Mentally, that was something else, and I was happy for the distraction.

“Where do you want me?” he said.

So many things popped into my head at those loaded words, but I resisted and instead dragged out a chair.

He reached back, tugging off his shirt, and draped it over the back of the chair beside him and sat. I prepared the tattoo machine, filling it with Else’s special ink. With these guys, we didn’t need to worry about infection, not with their healing abilities, so there was no need to sterilize anything.

I grabbed a marker to draw the runes on him first. His monster shoulder was partially covered by all that thick, wavy hair. It was soft, too. I knew that because I’d had my fingers in it several times now.

I put down the marker and grabbed a hair tie from the bowl on the counter and came back. “I’ll need to tie up your hair.”