Chapter 3

When I woke, I was in the healing den.

“Nia!”

I lurched upright so violently that the bowl in Kael’s hand overturned.

Hot goat milk thickened with herbs spilled across the blanket.

His expression darkened, then settled into something controlled.

He caught my wrist when I tried to stand.

“Nia is in surgery.”

“Don’t go there and make things worse.”

I stared at him.

“Tell me the truth.”

He looked away first.

That frightened me more than anything else.

I tried to wrench myself free, but my wounds tore open and pain exploded through my side.

Kael caught me before I hit the floor.

“If you want her to survive, then stay here and recover.”

“I said I’ll take you to her when she’s stable.”

For the next few days, Kael gave me the best care the pack could provide.

He rotated healers in shifts.

He brought me images of Nia unconscious but alive.

Once, when I refused to eat, he sat beside my bed and tried to feed me himself.

I took the bowl from him without a word.

He let me.

If anything, he seemed strangely patient.

For a few dangerous hours, I almost believed guilt had finally reached him.

Then Liora came to visit.

Kael entered just in time to see her stumbling backward with a cry, a broken glass vial at her feet and blood on her palm.

His whole face changed.

“Mira, what did you do?”

He crossed the room at once and pulled her into his chest.

She hid there and trembled.

“I only wanted to bring her flowers…”

That was enough for him.

“Apologize.”

I looked at the glass on the floor, then at the blood on her hand.

A shallow cut.

Barely more than a scratch.

I thought of Nia somewhere beyond those walls, carved open just to survive what Liora had wanted done to her for amusement.

“No.”

The word startled even me.

Kael went very still.

“So this is where we are now.”

“I let you recover. I let you keep your temper. And you took that as permission to keep hurting her.”

I turned away from him and took one step toward the door.

His next words stopped me where I stood.

“If you don’t want me to pull Nia out of the healing line, turn around.”

Every trace of warmth from the past few days vanished at once.

Of course it had never been guilt.

Only control.

I turned back.

He looked at me and said flatly, “Kneel.”

So I did.

Then bow.

Then apologize.

Then bow again.

He stood there with Liora in his arms while I bent low and repeated the words until my throat turned raw.

When I faltered, he said coldly, “Do not test me again.”

“And do not mistake my patience for indulgence. I will not have you lashing out at her just because you think I once let you get away with too much.”

When he was finally satisfied, he lowered his head and kissed her in front of me before carrying her out.

Only after the door shut did I break.

I dragged the notebook from the bedside drawer and wrote in a shaking hand:

Ninety-nine.

One left.

Then I heard his voice behind me.

He had come back quietly enough that I had not heard the door.

His eyes dropped to the notebook.

A pause.

Then a humorless laugh.

“So that’s what you’ve still been counting.”

I snapped the book shut too late.