“Don’t be stupid,” she says sharply. “Someone tried to kill us. We need to figure out who and why before you go anywhere.”
I raise an eyebrow at her commanding tone, amused despite the seriousness of the situation. “Is that an order, warrior?”
She doesn’t back down. “Yes, it is. And if you try to leave this room before you’re fully healed, I’ll tie you to the bed myself.”
The vivid image her words conjure brings heat to my blood that has nothing to do with poison or herbs. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the air between us charged with something dangerous and intoxicating.
“That would certainly give the court something to gossip about,” I finally say, my voice deliberately light.
She turns away quickly, busying herself with cleaning the mortar and pestle. “Get some sleep. I’ll take the chair.”
“Daciana,” I say softly, and I wait until she looks at me again. “Thank you. Truly.”
A vulnerable look flickers in her eyes before she masks it with her usual direct gaze. “Just don’t die in my bed, Alpha. The paperwork would be a nightmare.”
As she settles into the chair next to the bed, I close my eyes, allowing my body the time it needs to heal. But my mind remains alert, turning over the implications of the attack.
Someone wanted one or both of us dead. Someone who knows enough about my kind to create a poison that specifically targets magical abilities.
The list of potential enemies is longer than I’d like to admit. And I have a sinking feeling that this is only the beginning.
Chapter Three
Daciana
It’s raining outside. I hate the rain.
I stand at the window, arms wrapped tight around my stomach, watching the drops streak down the glass like tears. Each one feels like it’s pulling something out of me, some piece of myself I can’t afford to lose.
“Is something bothering you?”
Kieran’s voice cuts through my spiral, and I stiffen. “No.”
“You’ve been standing there for some time now.”
I press my lips together. “I just don’t like it when it rains.”
“May I ask why?”
The question is careful, measured, but it cracks something open inside me. “I just feel unbearably sad.”
The words escape before I can stop them, raw and honest in a way I never intended. I inhale sharply. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I clear my throat hard, forcing the vulnerability back down where it belongs.
I turn to face him, needing a distraction. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, shirtless, the bandage around his torsostark white against his tanned skin. “Why is your arrow wound healing so slowly?”
His jaw tightens. “The poison. It’s mostly neutralized, but it continues to affect my healing.”
“How long until—”
“I’ll leave tonight,” he says, his intense eyes holding mine. “Under cover of darkness.”
“Good.” The word comes out sharper than I mean it to, but I don’t take it back.
He looks around my small room now, and I can practically feel him cataloging every detail. The sparse furniture. The lack of personal touches. The emptiness of it all.
“Is your family in the capital?”
The question hits me like a slap. My eyes narrow. “Why are you asking?”
