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My eyes burst wide open. “What?”
Images flashed over my eyes. Blue lips. Rug-burned skin. Deep lines layered one over the other, indentions etched into flesh.
Her eyelids fluttered. “You said—”
“That’s enough, Rose.”
“But it seemed—”
“I said,that’senough.”
A shudder ran through her and then she said, “Alright, sorry.”
Reach for her. Comfort her, my wolf urged.Hold her.
The energy shifted between us, traveling over the sheets and seeping into my legs. Shame, embarrassment, anxiety, and worry slithered up my thigh and infected my lower gut. It soon rose in my chest and lingered in my throat, tightening my esophagus.
I gulped. “Rose…”
“No, you’re right.”
“Sweetheart.”
She offered a small grin, though it was hardly reassuring. “It’s none of my business. I just…”
Taking her hand silenced her. She focused on me, eyes wide, bright, alert. Just like in the parking lot. Just like in the lobby. Just like the first time I met her.
“The pack,” she blurted. “I told them about how you got attacked. Since it was in the mountains above their land, I thought I should tell Donovan.” She blinked. “I mean, I told Sasha who told Donovan.”
“I get it.”
She frowned and looked away. “I worry about them over there.”
“I understand.”
“But you saved them from certain death.”
I squeezed her hand, emotions whirling through my body like I was spinning around on a carousel. Twinkling lights, carnival music, laughter—I wanted to live inside these memories forever.
“Oh,” she whispered while sliding from the bed. “I brought you some of the research materials, too.”
She lifted the tray cover and revealed the steaming hot rare steak with enough vegetables to feed a pack of wolves. Next to it sat the documents we had looked over in the conference room.
I squinted and extended my hand. “Did you ever find anything connecting the Castillo name to Domingo and his clan?”
She shook her head while lifting the folders. “Nope. Nothing came up.The Proper Archiveshas been shut down due to interference.”
“Thewhatnow?”
She giggled as she set the folders next to me. After I lifted a folder, she grabbed my plate and set it in her lap, cutting up the steak into small pieces. She stabbed one with the tines of the fork and lifted it to my lips. Mindlessly, I opened my mouth and slid the steak from the fork, eyes circulating the pages in front of me.
“Do you think it was his original family name?” I asked thoughtfully. “Or perhaps a distant clan?”
“Beats me. I know vampires make their families. Maybe he adopted a clan and added to it.” She popped a piece of broccoli into her mouth and chewed silently with a curious expression. Then, she froze. “Or maybe hetook overa different clan.”
I nodded. “That tracks.”
“He wouldn’t tell us anything about it, would he?”
