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Emotion clogged my throat, and I swallowed hard. “Why did you do that? You could have just let me die.”

Cerise pressed her lips together, finally meeting my earnest look. “You saved me from the white wolf and the—the strange explosion. I was just returning the favor.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I can’t uncover the truth about Gran’s death without you.”

My mouth quirked into a half smile. “Is that right?”

Her cheeks flamed again, and my smile grew. I was coming to appreciate that endearing blush of hers. “How did you manage this?” I pointed to the sticky leaves. Even Dulsa, our healer, wouldn’t have been able to work her magic quickly enough to stop the bleeding so effectively.

“I used the freeze spell,” Cerise said with a shrug. “The same spell I used to stop the wolf. It works on wounds and holds the blood in place. Then I made the salve and found the right leaves and used the heal spell. I’m—I’m not very good at it. It took me a few tries.” She rubbed the back of her neck, chagrined.

“Well, I’m impressed,” I said.

She stared at me, eyes wide. “You’re what?”

I chuckled. “I’m impressed. What you did was impressive, Cerise. Even if you aren’t perfect at it.” I leaned forward, reaching for the sticky leaves.

“Let me,” she said, drawing closer. Her hair had been tied back, but several stray red curls framed her face, tickling my arm. She carefully peeled the leaves away. I winced as a dull throb pulsed through me, but it was nothing compared to the pain I’d felt before.

“Gods,” she whispered, her breath caressing my skin as she removed the leaves from my chest. “That’s incredible.” The skin underneath was red and puckered—still not completely healed. But the wound was closed. Cerise gently brushed her finger along the lip of the wound. I shuddered from the softness of her touch.

“Sorry.” She yanked her hand back, misinterpreting my reaction as pain.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I murmured.

Her eyes lifted to meet mine. The light of the sun made her emerald eyes sparkle, almost as if they had flecks of gold in them. I felt her pulse quicken, and her breathing hitched. Her hands were still poised above me, not quite touching me but close enough for me to feel their warmth. Her face was only a few inches from my own. I could smell her skin. Taste her breath.

Cerise cleared her throat and withdrew from me, her face flushed. “Um, are you well enough to move? We should—we should get going. And perhaps… get you some clothes.” Her blush deepened as she turned away from me.

I glanced down and bit back a chuckle. That was why she’d laid her mantle over me. “Good idea,” I said, rising to my feet and handing her the mantle. Cerise accepted it, still facing away from me as if to give me privacy. I found it amusing that she was so embarrassed by it now. Had it not bothered her earlier?

Then again, I’d been bleeding out. She had probably been so focused on keeping me alive that she hadn’t noticed.

“Is it always like that?” she asked, her voice higher than normal. “I mean, when I first met you, you weren’t naked or anything, but when I saw you shift in the Isle, you were and…” Her words were coming out as a rush now.

“Depending on the strength of their magic, our wolves can sometimes fashion together clothing for us when we shift back to our human forms,” I replied. “But they don’t usually like it. It feels unnatural for them to have to use their magic that way.” I crossed my arms and squinted into the forest. “I think the best place to start would be your grandmother’s cabin.” I paused, my voice growing soft. “But if you aren’t comfortable going inside, I can do that part on my own.”

She turned to look at me. Her eyes were glassy, and she blinked several times. “I’ll be fine.” Her voice shook, but she squared her shoulders and gave me a determined look. “I need to do this.”

I nodded. “Very well. Lead the way.”

She gave me a dubious look. “Are you just going to walk around the woods naked?”

“Yes,” I said with a frown. “What other choice do I have? Tavik isn’t well enough to shift, and I doubt you have a pair of men’s trousers tucked in your pocket.”

She made a scoffing sound at that, then turned and started walking. I fell into step beside her as we made our way through the forest. She led me west, which told me she’d somehow managed to drag me a quarter mile away from where I’d collapsed. Perhaps she had used some kind of spell to manage it. Either way, I was once again impressed by her ingenuity.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with that white wolf?” she asked, stepping over a particularly large bramble.

“That was what we call a Rogue. A feral Wolven Mage whose two entities are in conflict with one another. Ideally, the dissonance is eventually resolved between the two. But if it’s not, the friction between them gets worse until it becomes a rupture and the soul is ripped apart, which is the explosion you saw.” I gestured vaguely behind us. A war of emotions swirled in my chest—regret, confusion, grief…

I rubbed the back of my neck. “And there’s one more thing.” I tugged on Cerise’s arm to stop her. She frowned, gazing up at me. “It’s very likely that this Rogue killed your grandmother.”

She sucked in a sharp gasp, and her pulse spiked. Her eyes flared wide, and her breathing became ragged. “Are—are you sure?”

“No, not completely. But this was the same Rogue that Reid and I were tracking when we came across her body. It’s the most likely scenario.” I paused, my brow furrowing. “Either that, or there is another Rogue out there somewhere.”

“Could it be a… um, non-Rogue? Like, just a Wolven Mage?”

I rubbed my chin. “Possibly. But Rogues smell different. There’s a sharp stench associated with them. I caught a whiff of it at your cabin.”