The path wound down from the cliffs toward town, each step sending fresh pain lancing through his damaged side. His shoulder throbbed where the jackal’s teeth had torn muscle. His forearm was sticky with drying blood. Smaller cuts and bruises announced themselves with every movement, a chorus of damage that his shifter healing was already struggling to address.
He needed shelter. Medical attention. Rest.
The Siren’s Rest materialized from the darkness like a beacon.
Light spilled from the windows, welcoming and solid. Leo fixed his eyes on that light and kept walking. Not a hospital—they’d ask questions, file reports, alert authorities. Victor had contacts everywhere. Leo couldn’t risk word getting back that he’d been wounded.
Not the pack house, either. Theo’s territory, and Leo wasn’t sure he could survive the Alpha’s interrogation in his current state. Theo would want explanations. Strategies. Commitments about how Leo planned to handle this escalation.
Leo didn’t have strategies right now. He barely had consciousness.
The inn. His room was in the inn. And Junie’s room was right next to his, and some part of him—the part that was still more predator than man—needed to be close to her. Needed to know she was safe. Needed to feel her presence even if he couldn’t explain why.
She’s the reason you came back, the creature inside him noted.She’s the reason for everything.
Leo pushed through the side entrance, avoiding the main lobby. The stairs were agony, each step a fresh exercise in willpower. Blood was seeping through his makeshift bandages,leaving dark spots on the carpet. Avine was going to be furious about the stains.
He made it to his door. Leaned against the frame. The world was getting fuzzy around the edges, darkness creeping in from his peripheral vision.
The door beside his opened.
“Leo?”
Junie stood in the doorway of her borrowed room, wearing that ridiculous tank top she refused to replace and shorts that showed entirely too much leg. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, catching the hallway light. Glimmer was coiled at her throat, scales flickering from sleepy purple to alarmed crimson.
Her eyes went wide as she took in the blood, the wounds, the way he was swaying on his feet.
She didn’t scream.
“Inside. Now.”
Junie’s voice was steady—steadier than he’d expected—as she grabbed his arm and guided him into her room. The space smelled like her: herbs and honey and the particular charge of magic recently used. Leo breathed it in, letting the familiarity anchor him as she deposited him on the edge of her bed.
“Don’t you dare pass out before you tell me what happened.” She was already moving, pulling vials and jars from the bag she’d brought from her shop. Emergency supplies. Salvaged from the wreckage of Moonrise Mixology. “Jackals?”
“Three.” His voice came out raspy, scraped raw. “On the cliff path. Professional. Sent by Victor.”
“I’m going to kill him.” The statement was matter-of-fact, delivered while she poured a clear liquid onto a cloth andpressed it against the slash across his ribs. Leo hissed at the sting. “Stay still. This is a clotting accelerant. It’ll hurt like hell but it’ll stop the bleeding.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
“No, they’re not.” Her hands were absolutely shaking. She was compensating with fierce focus, her movements efficient despite the tremor. “This is going to need proper healing magic. Or a skilled surgeon. Let me see the shoulder.”
Leo turned, exposing the bite wound. He heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Leo.”
“The bleeding is mostly under control. Shifter healing will manage the rest.”
“It looks like a wild animal tried to remove your arm from your body.”
“A wild animal did try to remove my arm from my body. I returned the favor.” He felt her hands on his shoulder, gentle despite the trembling. “They were warning me off. Victor’s message—go back to San Francisco. Leave the investigation alone.”
“And you said?”
“That it’s already personal.”
Her hands stilled on his wounded shoulder. Leo heard her breathing, felt the slight hitch in it that suggested she was fighting for control.