“No,” I manage to hiss, body locking up as my muscles tense, seizing up. “Tell me I’m amazing, and then punch Damian in the face.” Sucking in a sharp breath between my teeth, I clamp my eyes shut impossibly tighter.
“Are you almost finished?” Slade snaps as I finally get a hand free of his grip, raking my nails over my thigh once before Damian releases Slade’s arm to pull mine away from tearing my fevered flesh apart.
A palm smooths over the side of my face and a tidal wave races through my system, temporarily suppressing the worst of the agony long enough that I can finally draw in a normal breath. “You’re amazing, and doing so well,” Slade murmurs against the shell of my ear, eliciting a whimper that has me struggling against the steadfast hand on my collar, pressing my face into the side of his throat. Sucking down a lungful of his cologne and cognac scent, it appeases a subconscious part of me, helping as much as the man himself to alleviate a fraction of the pain.
Damian’s voice is ragged and breathless. “It’s not only her leg.”
“What do you mean?” Slade demands before stroking a hand over the back of my head, keeping me pinned against his throat. “I know it hurts, but it won’t for much longer, I promise,” he whispers, along with a steady stream of praises. “Then you can have the first swing at him.”
As the dulled fire moves from my leg to my chest, burning away Slade’s influence until I can barely breathe, suffocating under the pressure, I snap a hand out to grip Damian’s arm, murdering it in my grasp as I futilely try to yank his hand away. He pins the hand he already captured on the mattress beside me, using it as leverage to lean in and press his palm against me more forcefully, not even flinching as I claw at his arm.
“I know,” he gasps between pants, as if he’s been running for miles. “But I’m going to take care of it, I promise.”
“What are you talking about?” Cinjin demands, storming into the room. “What the hell are you doing to her?” Tears stream from the corner of my eyes and soak Slade’s skin, my body on absolute fire. Cin climbs onto the mattress from the opposite side, reaching across Slade to brush the hair from my face before hissing in a sharp breath. “She’s burning up.”
Damian makes a concentrated effort to keep his voice soothing, like he’s not currently incinerating my insides. “There’s some sort of acidic layer throughout her body, like she’s infected with something. Her wolf isn’t docile; it’s sick. How could you not have noticed?”
A low rumble escapes Slade, vibrating into my back. “It was fine when I reached out, just quiet.”
Another rush of energy floods my system and I cry out, choking on a sob. Unable to string together a coherent sentence, I pull my face away to lock eyes with Cin, knowing of any of them, he’ll get what I’m trying to say, used to deciphering Reid. “Old werewolf lore; the scratch.”
His icy gaze is hard, but he forces his face to remain kind. “You’re already one of us, sweet girl, and that’s not how this works.”
Stomach somersaulting, I breathe through the pain since he’s not getting it, my words halting and stilted. “Wolf or person, I know. But I told you, that thing wasn’t either. I swear, I’m not remembering things wrong because it was chaotic and terrifying. By the time you guys got in the room he was human again, but he wasn’t when he was attacking me. There was something wrong with him; more like a lycan from an old horror movie.”
Slade wipes the sweat from my forehead and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We believe you, love. Deep breaths for me, okay?”
“You don’t,” I growl, beyond frustrated. “We’ve been over this a dozen times already, and you all wrote it off as trauma affecting my memories.”
A sharp stab lances through my chest that steals my breath away, and my fingers on Damian’s arm grow slick with his blood as I tighten my grip. My mouth opens, yet no sound comes out, my body paralyzed in a silent scream of agony.
“Need more,” Damian pants, pale. He doesn’t need to elaborate, Slade grabs Cin’s arm without a word and thrusts it at him like a sacrifice. Damian releases my hand on the bed to grip Cinjin’s, rapidly draining him and funneling the energy directly into me with another wave of searing pain.
“He’s going to fix everything,” Slade states confidently. “And in a few minutes, you’ll be better than ever. You just need to hold on a little longer, alright? Breathe for me, Sabrina. I promise, I believe you. Stonewood makes their money through the drug trade, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they came across something that doesn’t react well with our systems. Maybe it supercharges our other half, or weakens the man enough that the wolf is able to take partial control. They’re weak-willed, pathetic men, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have a good handle on their beasts to begin with.”
A violent twisting in my chest forces me to finally draw air into my lungs. “Wouldn’t infect me though,” I gasp. “You only voodooed me twice; once before it touched me, and the other when we were freaked out about the mob while you were distracted. It’s possible.”
A low growl escapes Damian. “Or it’s why you’ve never been able to shift. It’s everywhere, Sabrina. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were born like this, like some genetic condition. Maybe it’s a side effect of being half-human. We weren’t meant to corrupt them, or men would be able to spawn children with human women. Wolves would overrun the world in no time, and this keeps the population of monsters in the world in check. You’re an anomaly, so everything’s strictly guesswork. But it would explain why your wolf was dormant until you started choosing your mates; it’s been struggling simply to keep itself alive.”
I break into sobs when it feels like he’s squeezing my heart in a vice grip, twisting it in preparation to rip it from my chest. I’m vaguely aware of someone prying my bloodied hand off of Damian and capturing the other as I bury my face back against Slade’s throat, seeking any possible source of comfort that I can find.
“Angel, it’s going to be alright,” Cinjin murmurs. “Just a little more. When he’s done, I’ll hold him down so you can get a couple of good swings in, maybe a nut shot or three. Sound good? That’ll make you feel better, and if not, it’ll makemefeel better, so it’s a win-win.”
The watery smile I manage fades away as molten lava replaces my blood, incinerating my organs until I’m filled with nothing but ash. Driven by instinct, I bite down on the side of Slade’s neck to muffle my scream, a soothing rush of energy instantly helping combat the pain. He pulls back, but a snarl works its way from my chest, clamping down before he can abandon me. He can’t leave, not when I need him.
As the pain begins to subside it only spurs me on, my nails digging into whoever’s wrist is keeping my hands captured. More of that intoxicating, soothing balm coats my internal burns, and with each second that passes, I can draw a little more air into my lungs.
“Sabrina.”
Finally breaking free, I pivot for a better angle. Someone attempts to yank their arm free of my grip, but I tighten my hold, rising up onto my knees with my face still buried in the crook of Slade’s neck.
“Sabrina!”
The scent of blood saturates the air as whoever’s arm I’m holding wrenches free of my grip, sending a spray of droplets across the blanket and sheets. Slade jerks against me, eliciting another warning sound from my throat. Each contact point is a lifeline, helping to wash away all of my pain, finally making everything better like they promised.
An arm bands around my stomach and hauls me off of the bed, ripping me away from them. As I thrash, another arm wraps across my chest, pinning my arms to my sides.
“Motherfucker,” Hunter growls in my ear, and I throw my head back at the feel of his breath on the side of my neck, my hackles raising. He narrowly avoids a broken nose as he barks out, “Kaige!”
