Of course, we didn’t sell Trevor to the witches. We set him up in our guest room, so he could heal. Ryker took it upon himself to take care of Trevor. I was relieved, but the feeling didn’t last long. Ryker brought Trevor’s medicine into the sheep pen to add some organic ingredients. Ryker slapped Trevor across the face while administering the medicine. “Open wide!“Aren’t werewolves supposed to be strong? How are you so fragile? How long are you going to keep up with this act?” Trevor refused to open his mouth despite his swollen cheeks. As I pulled a grimace, Ryker played dumb and said, “His face attacked my hand, darling. Look, my palm is all red.” I kicked Ryker out of the room. “That’s enough. Are you trying to get him killed?” Trevor complained about the aches when he regained consciousness. His face was throbbing, and his breath smelled questionable. “Kiss me, Rhea. Your kiss will make the pain go away.” I held the medicine and let out a sigh. “Trevor,
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