She cut the words right out of Beatrice's throat. Beatrice had badly wanted to say that first since Silas was sitting right next to her. Her heart boiled at Elara's open question, at the audacious, protective caring she was showing toward Silas out in the open.Silas looked at Elara and gave a tight, strained nod."You don't look okay," Elara continued, her eyes searching his pale face. Beatrice couldn't stop glaring at her, the resentment burning hot in her chest.Beatrice proceeded to put her hand on Silas's forehead, only to gasp slightly. "Oh gosh! You're burning up pretty bad! You need to rest.""Silas is sick?" a reporter asked, the microphones tilting closer to the couch.Beatrice nodded quickly. "I think we will have to excuse everyone and go upstairs. He needs treatment.""I'm fine, Beatrice. It's just the weather," Silas forced out, his voice a low gravel. But as he spoke, the heavy mask of his Alpha perfume began to crack under his fever, and a tiny, desperate whiff of his
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