“I’m an apothecary researcher. It’s literally my area of expertise.” She held up a second finger. “Second, the cases cluster geographically around the northern creek tributaries. Most of the affected pack members reported first symptoms while hunting or patrolling in that specific area.”
My blood went cold.
The northern creek. I’d had issues with the northern pack since the moment I stepped into the role as king of the alphas. If there was a connection…
“Several affected members mentioned it,” she said, oblivious to the ice spreading through my chest. “But no one had thought to track the pattern until I asked.” She paused, her expression sharpening. “I also asked whether non-shifter animals in that area were showing signs of illness or unusual behavior.”
I went still.
“If forest animals are affected too,” she said, watching my face, “then the cause isn’t a shifter-specific malady. It could be environmental. Or magical contamination of one sort or another. Something in that location that’s impacting everything exposed to it.”
A few conversations with my pack members and she’d gotten closer to solving this issue than anyone had in the year since it all started.
“You overstepped,” I said.
Her eyebrow rose. “Did I?”
“I told you not to interfere with pack business.”
“And I didn’t. I gathered information that’s relevant to a medical crisis affecting your people. My people, too, I guess, since I’m your wife.” She leaned forward. “Unless you’re saying you don’t want help solving this problem?”
I wanted the sickness gone, and my pack members healthy, whole, and able to shift again. It was torture watching wolves lose fundamental parts of themselves while I stood by, helpless.
But I also didn’t want my pack realizing I suspected we were being targeted magically. They’d panic.
“You should’ve asked first,” I said, knowing my excuse sounded weak.
“Would you have said yes?”
“No.”
“Then I made the right choice.” She stood, smoothing her skirts. “Your meal should be arriving soon. You should eat and sleep. We can discuss this more tomorrow.”
She headed for the door, and something in my chest twisted.
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
I sank deeper into the water, closing my eyes.
My wolf snarled at me, furious.Mate helped. Mate cared. Mate trying to fix pack.
And we pushed her away.
“She was interfering,” I said out loud to the empty room.
She was helping.
“She doesn’t understand pack dynamics.” Another weak excuse. My wolf huffed and slunk further into my mind.
The water had started to cool by the time I finally dragged myself out of the tub. I dried, pulled on clean clothes, and emerged into the suite to find food waiting.
My wife sat in a chair by the window, her squirrel curled in her lap, both of them watching the canopy sway in the breeze. She didn’t look at me when I entered.
I sat at the table and ate because my body demanded it, tasting nothing, aware of her presence with every breath.
I’d kept her out and still managed to lose ground.
And I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or not that I’d done it.
