Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
But it wasn’t those cronies whom Lucas Hunter had executed. They’d all already been dead. The only ones left had been Monroe, Yariela, the two cubs, Salvador—a submissive packmate who wouldn’t say boo to a goose—and two junior soldiers.
If the alpha of DarkRiver had stuck to killing Monroe and the latter two, Soleil would have been shocked but she’d have understood his reasoning; she wouldn’t have agreed with it when it came to the soldiers—God no—but she’d have been able to see why he’d made that call. Lula and Duke had been baby dominants, but they had been dominants nonetheless. As such, they’d been bound to protect Monroe and could be seen as too loyal to him to set free.
The others … healer, cubs, a submissive. Dominants were meant to protect them. Yet he’d spilled their blood. It made no sense to her that the same man who’d given her a way out had also chosen an act so awful.
A knock on the door.
She watched as Tamsyn went to it, accepted something from the person on the other side before closing it again.
“Why am I alive?” Soleil blurted out.
Tamsyn didn’t startle at her blunt question. Instead, she passed over a small plate that held a helping of fresh rice and what looked to be chicken in a sesame sauce, with a side of steamed vegetables drizzled with what Soleil’s nose told her was honey.
“You must be starving,” the other woman said. “Eat first, then we’ll talk. It’s fresh—benefit of being in the heart of Chinatown.”
Soleil’s stomach rumbled right on cue. Her cheeks blazed. “Thank you.” Food had so long been only fuel to her that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a meal and enjoyed it—but that part of her had apparently awakened with her cat … and with Ivan. “How long have I been out?”
“Twenty-two hours, give or take. You went down late yesterday afternoon, and it’s now midafternoon of the following day.” The senior healer tapped the small screen on the bedside table to bring up the exact time and date. “You needed it. Especially since Lucas couldn’t do anything to assist in your recovery.”
A frown before Tamsyn said, “Why are you unlinked to an alpha? You’re obviously an experienced healer and I’ve never known a single healer to choose the life of a loner. Most of us don’t function well unless surrounded by pack.”
Bleeding at the devastating blow her fellow healer had landed without intent, Soleil thrust the food into her mouth. It tasted of sawdust and tears, her throat threatening to tighten itself until she couldn’t breathe.
Filaments of silver edged in orange-red in her mind, stars that wrapped around her. Ivan. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew it was him. Her personal overprotective Psy. Looking after her as if he had every right to do so. She tugged the filaments and the stars around herself even as she indulged that grumpy thought. She’d rather be grumpy with Ivan than sad … just sad to the bone.
Tamsyn didn’t push her to talk. Settling back in the armchair beside the bed, she looked at Soleil with the worried gaze of a changeling who’d been born to comfort and care. Soleil wanted to spill her guts, tell her all of it, but first she had to get her feet under her. She’d failed in her quest, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t confront Lucas Hunter and make him face the horror of his actions.
Never had Soleil been a coward, and she wasn’t going to start now.
Not even if it meant her life.
THE DarkRiver healer didn’t speak again until Soleil had cleared her plate. Then, taking it and putting it aside on the bedside table, Tamsyn said, “You carry so much pain in you, little sister.”
Such a lack of judgment in her eyes that tears burned Soleil’s irises.
“I wish I could take you home and care for you,” Tamsyn continued, “but we must know who you are and why you’re here. The times are too unsettled for us to simply accept an unknown into our midst.”
Soleil couldn’t process all of that. The idea of a pack ever just accepting anyone was alien to her. She’d always had to fight for her place by being so cheerful and friendly that people couldn’t dislike her; even that might not have worked if she hadn’t been born a healer.
You weren’t cheerful with Ivan and he still likes you.
She squelched that annoying voice from the back of her brain. Ivan Mercant, she thought, wasn’t the kind of man who went around “liking” people. He felt a responsibility toward her, that was all—and he struck her as someone who did not shirk his responsibilities.
An appealing trait in a man … if she wasn’t the target.
Her cat rumbled its agreement.
But Ivan wasn’t the problem right this minute. “Are you saying your alpha will execute me if I don’t cooperate?” Soleil needed to know exactly how much rope she had before she hanged herself.