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Surely I imagined that part.

Maybe I imagined all of it.

“I can see why you didn’t sleep with the pack master until now,” Sofia laments as she dabs the washcloth on my brow again. “You’ve been out for two days and barely survived. You stopped breathing a few times.”

Sofia’s expression tightens with anger. I frightened her. Guilt burns in my chest, but then she’s smiling again, like it’s all going to be okay now.

“Just catching my breath,” I say as I bury my face in the furs, sighing when I catch the addicting scent of cedar and smoke. “That’s all.” Feeling warm, I take one last inhale before I kick off the blankets.

Sofia makes a pained sound, and I flutter open my eyes and stare at my bare leg. I’m covered in bruises. One of them even looks like a handprint.

Sofia curls her fingers into fists. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Then get in line.” I smile, thinking of Arwan, then wince when I try to move again.

“He took advantage of you,” she practically growls, which is adorable coming from her little body.

“It wasn’t like that,” I protest.

Ignoring me, she starts rummaging through a box. She pulls out my healing vial.

Does everyone know where they are by now?

“Godric told me where to find it,” she says as she pops open the cork. She offers me the vial. “He said one drop should heal the bruises, although I hadn’t seen the extent of them until now. I tried to give you some while you were sleeping, but you almost knocked it out of my hand and dumped the whole thing out and wouldn’t let go of the furs.”

“Sorry,” I say as I glance around at the messy pile of furs that I’m itching to tidy. “I don’t remember doing that.”

I take the vial, then consider it before replacing the cork.

I knock one of the fur piles to the floor.

Stupid heat.

Stupid nesting instincts.

Stupid Godric.

Sofia gives me a raised brow. “I know I refused your healing tonic on the ship a lot, but that’s because I didn’t want to waste it for you when I was dead meat anyway. What’s your excuse?”

The handprint bruise on my hip engulfs my entire pelvic bone, and then there are the bruises down my thighs, and more intimate sores Sofia can’t see that ache through my insides. I’m wearing silky soft pajamas—a skimpy shirt and short set—that don’t match Godric’s style at all.

It seems that Arwan made sure to leave his mark, one of softness and gentle caretaking that is designed to contrast with Godric’s version of a claim. It’s no doubt a seduction tactic.

One that works, even when I know exactly what he’s trying to do.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but the truth is I’m angry and confused. I need to feel something that’ll keep me grounded.

All this pain is proof of why I cannot stay. It tells me with every throb, every ache, why Godric was right to say that I don’t belong here.

I need to find my sister and go back home.

Even if I don’t have a home anymore. At least I have my family. They are the enemy I know.

I’ll figure it out.

Sofia frowns. “You don’t seem—hey!” she exclaims as I slide off the bed.

I collapse to one knee but wave her away when she tries to guide me back. “I need to get dressed. And maybe take a bath.”