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“Just ask him.” Is he the first one to figure out how to shift our forms without the rigamarole of the ceremony? That would be so convenient.
“We would have. If you hadn’t killed him.”
I killed him. I kill my assassin. “That’s so cool.”
Maybe I’ll feel guilty about that later. Maybe people will write stories about me. I ponder a title for my myth out loud. “The queen who lost her hand stabbing a werewolf in the throat from the inside of his mouth.”
“Actually, he choked to death on your hand.”
Oh. “That’s so disappointing.”
“Are you in terrible pain?” he asks. “I could get the doctor—”
“No.” I’m in pain, but whatever they’re giving me makes me not care. “Are you worried about me?”
“Of course, I’m worried about you.” He sounds stunned by the question. The mattress dips and I open my eyes.
I didn’t realize I hadn’t already done that.
Nathan looks like hell. His hair is tousled, and his jaw is stubbly. And tired. His eyelids are as heavy as mine.
“Am I going to die?”
“No.” He lets out a heavy, grateful exhale. “It sounds like you’re not in any danger of that. You’ll just have to heal.”
“Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“He wasn’t from this pack.” I would have known. Security would have known.
Nathan doesn’t answer right away.
“Tell me.” I want to sound commanding but I just sound drunk. “Despite my diction, I assure you, I kinda know what’s happening.”
“‘Kinda’?” Irritatingly, he does a good imitation of me. “He was from the Saint-Laurent pack.”
Great. The pack that wanted to kill my mate wants to kill me now, too.
“Do you know who sent them?” My heart races. I hear the beeps increasing and reach for my chest with my good hand. There’s and EKG sticker there, a little plastic tab I want to peel off.
Nathan brushes my hand away. “Leave it. They have to monitor you.”
“No.” I try to sit up. “I have to get back to work. It could be Ashton. It could be—”
“It could be your father,” Nathan snaps. “Or your sisters!”
“No.” They could never.
I fall back against the bed and wince as my bandaged stump jostles.
“I don’t know what they could do,” Nathan says, gentler now. “I have to investigate everyone.”
“Maybe I wasn’t the target,” I whisper. I hope that’s the case, if my own family sent the assassin. But it has Ashton written all over it. “You were in my room last night.”
“Night before last, yes,” he corrects me. “You were in surgery most of yesterday and you slept all night. But that is something I thought of. That the assassin might have been sent for me and simply took his opportunity.”
“I think he knew what I was.” That’s not right. “I mean, I knew what he was. And he knew that I knew that he wasn’t a thrall.”
“So, he could have attacked you because he had to. He was already found out.”
I lift my hand to make a finger gun at him and then remember I don’t have fingers on that hand. Or a hand on that hand. So, I just wave it a little and say, “Bingo.”
Nathan chuckles. “I think whatever they’re giving you, I might like some, myself.”
“You had plenty,” I remind him. “And I didn’t get any when I was sitting at the side of your bed, waiting for you to wake up.”
“You…” He pauses.
I finish for him. “Waited by your bedside, yes. I did.”
“Why?”
That’s a good question. Why did I wait at the bedside of a man who used me as a pawn in his political subterfuge, who insists on casually cheating, who explicitly told me that he’s not interested in getting to know me?
“You know why.” The bond between us made it impossible for me to leave him.
He nods once and looks away. “It terrifies me.”
“Me, too,” I admit. “I don’t know what it is.”
He makes a thoughtful noise. I wonder if he knows, and he’s just not telling me.
“I have to get back to work.” Did I say that before? I can’t remember and I’m pretty tired.
“No,” Nathan states firmly. “And you’re not going to be a part of the investigation into the assassin.”
“Because you think I won’t look into my sisters.” I won’t. I refuse to believe they would be involved. Their husbands, maybe, but never Tara or Clare personally. “Where are they?”
“They’re currently being held under guard here in the house. They’re not being deprived of anything, don’t worry on that account,” Nathan is quick to assure me. “But they are never out of sight, and they aren’t going to be allowed to speak to you.”
“Does that mean I’m not allowed to speak to them?” Not again. He can’t take them away, again.
“For right now, yes it does.” He sounds truly apologetic. “I know this hurts you. But it’s for the best.”
“It’s not them,” I say. “But clear them, first.”
