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I don’t know how thrall medicine works; I know our advanced healing and their magical skills play into it, but werewolves usually don’t have to think much about our health. I’ve never been seen a by doctor for anything. What’s happening to Nathan is terrifying.
“Is he going to live?” That’s my main concern, and from where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem too promising. Two black eyes have formed overnight, and there are bruised stripes down both sides of his nose. His abdomen is covered in gauze bandages, and he has a tube down his throat. This is not the jumping off point for optimum health.
“We’re doing the best we can, Your Majesty,” the doctor says.
I look at Nathan lying there, so helpless. I haven’t been able to get his screaming out of my mind. He seems so strong and in control all of the time, but I guess having your guts ripped out would break anybody’s composure. And now he’s laying here, all alone, without any family or anyone who loves him.
Does he even have family? I don’t know. I should figure that out and get in contact with them, so they know what’s happening.
For a moment, I feel a pang of regret that I’ve barred his mistress from coming to visit. At least she likes the guy.
That pang passes quickly, though.
It doesn’t matter how I feel about Nathan. He’s my mate. And he’s a person, if I’m forced to admit it. If I’m the only one here for him, I’m damn well going to be here for him.
I lean down and gently brush his hair back. I never noticed that it has a little curl to it. He’s usually so immaculately groomed. Because it feels like the right thing to do, I kiss his forehead. “I’m going to find out who did this to you,” I whisper, and I hope he can hear me. Because I am going to find who did this.
And I’m going to make them suffer.
CHAPTER 39
Hannah arrives just in time for my video address to hit the inboxes of every member of the pack. She pulls it up on her laptop, and she, Tara, Clare, and I sit on my big bed, all squished together around the screen.
I’m not sure I even want to see it. I felt like a mess when I recorded it, and I didn’t have a speech writer. But when the royal seal fades from the screen and I see myself, with my head held high and my hair messed up, my eye makeup smudged but my face a stone mask of anger, blood spattered across my gown but my spine stiff and straight, I don’t recognize myself. The person on the screen doesn’t look like a terrified and unqualified twenty-two-year-old who just barely survived a political uprising.
“This afternoon, I stood before the Toronto werewolf pack and pledged my life for the good of my subjects,” the unrecognizable me on the screen says.
“Are you doing an English accent?” Tara whispers, and Clare shushes her.
“Some of my subjects took that as an invitation to take my life, the life of my husband, the lives of loyal werewolves and thralls.” Me on the screen pauses, gazing steely and assured into the camera. “They succeeded in killing five of their fellow werewolves. twenty-seven thralls. Thralls who have served this pack loyally for nearly a millennium.
“The traitors tried to kill their pack leader, in what is the second attempt on his life in less than a month. They failed again. His Majesty is injured, but he is certain to recover. And they failed to harm me, queen of the Toronto and Greater London packs, in their cowardly attempt to seize the throne. While His Majesty, King Nathan, convalesces—”
“Whoa, ten dollar word,” Tara whispers.
“—I will conduct a thorough investigation into this act of treason. Those responsible for orchestrating this horrific attack will be brought to swift judgment.”
I’m proud of myself for not yelling that heads will roll, though that’s the direction I’m leaning in. Now that the adrenaline and shock have faded a bit and the anger has had hours to simmer, I’m wondering if I can wield the ax myself.
I suppose precision and strength really only matter when you care if it’s a clean death.
“I call upon my loyal subjects to relay any information they may have that will help in this investigation. Those involved in the plot are no longer members of this pack. They are traitors and apostates.
“These next few weeks may be dangerous. While I ask you for caution, I’m also asking you to be calm. If you are innocent of this horrible crime, you have nothing to fear.”
Now that I hear that line, it’s pretty chilling. I should have left it out. Which is exactly why I need an advisor.
“Stay strong. Stay vigilant. And stay faithful to the pack.”
