There’s only one more missing, Wolf practically purrs.
Cade hums under his breath, pulling my attention back. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s badass,” Liz corrects, leaning over me with Archie in her arms. He looks mildly traumatized, likeheneeds emotional support after that experience, and I love him even more for it.
I breathe out, shaking and exhausted but strangely calm. “It’s something all right.”
Across from us, Mildred wipes her hands on a rag with all the enthusiasm of someone cleaning up spilled milk. Then she looks at me with clear displeasure.
“I really thought you were a screamer.”
“I’m sorry to let you down.” Am I really apologizing to the woman who just tossed my soul into a pan for a quick sauté?
“Mm.” She shrugs, gathers her bowl to drop into her bag, and heads for the door without so much as a goodbye. “If it festers, that’s ayouproblem. Don’t call me.”
Then she leaves.
Just walks out like she didn’t incinerate half my shoulder and insult me on the way.
I stare after her, dumbfounded. “Is she that way because of the prophecy, or did something crawl up her ass and die a hundred years ago?”
Archie finally recovers and jumps into my lap. “Most definitely the latter.”
A weak, pitiful laugh breaks out of me—and wow does it hurt—but I’ll take it. I reach for my shirt, but I hesitate to cover up the beauty.
The room is oddly quiet, though, and that has me looking around. “Where’s Iris?”
Liz frowns. “She muttered something about burning cookies and left about halfway through.”
Considering the smell of charred skin earlier, a fair mistake.
Cade leans down, kisses the unburned side of my shoulder, and whispers, “Don’t worry about her right now.”
Easy for him to say. But for now—for this moment—I try because I’ve never felt stronger.
Only that doesn’t quite give me the relief I expect…
Chapter 22
CADE
Night has settled deep into NightShade, the halls are quiet, the old bones of the house creaking in a way that finally feels familiar instead of threatening. Rowan’s room—which I’ve invited myself into until she says otherwise—is dim except for the lamp on her dresser.
I’m already stretched out across the bed, propped against the headboard, lying on top of the comforter because I don’t trust myself not to drag her underneath it with me the moment she gets close. I may be inserting myself into her space, but I’m not going to push her. She needs rest, not whatever instinct has been chewing at my insides since she’s been back.
From the adjoining bathroom, I hear the soft rush of water and the rhythmic sound of her brushing her teeth. A mundane, completely normal noise—and gods, it destroys me more thoroughly than any battle ever has.
Her silhouette shifts behind the cracked door. ThenRowan peeks out, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth like she’s forgotten it’s there.
“Has Elias heard anything from the pack about our little meeting earlier?” she asks around the bristles, her words muffled and adorable enough to make my heart jerk.
I can’t help the small smile. “Most are pleased to see me stepping up. A few are struggling to differentiate what they’ve been told about you from what they saw in your strength earlier. Mostly, they’re all intrigued by your eyes.”
She blinks and glances back at the bathroom before pulling her toothbrush out. “I’ve gotten so used to them already, I forgot they’re not normal.”
White foam dribbles down her chin, and she wipes it away with the back of her hand. Something tight and aching unfurls in my chest.
Gods, is this really my life now?
