He opens it, then helps Grace sit up in her bed of granite so that she can take a sip.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, slowly walking to the other side and crouching down beside her.
“Okay, I think.” She coughs a little more, then pauses like she’s taking inventory of herself. “Pretty good, actually. I think I’m…okay.”
This time when she takes a deep breath, she doesn’t cough.
“Do you remember what happened?” Macy asks, excitement and concern warring on her face.
Grace thinks and then says, “I do, yeah.”
And just like that, my hands are shaking, when they never shake. I can’t figure out what to do with them, so I shove them in my pockets. And wait.
“I won the game and Cyrus bit me. You guys brought me here and—” She turns to me. “Hudson, thank you. Thank you so much.”
Disappointment racks me, but I ignore it. I’m certainly used to it by now, and—on the positive side—at least my hands aren’t trembling anymore. So what if she remembers the facts of what happened today and nothing else. Certainly nothing that came before. It’s probably better that way.
“Don’t thank me,” I tell her, even as she reaches for me, her hand clutching at my arm as she smiles up at me in a way I haven’t seen from her in quite a while. Now my whole body is trembling…and I don’t have a bloody clue what to do about it.
Especially when Grace is full-on grinning at me despite the fact that her grip isn’t quite as strong or as firm yet as it would normally be. “And why is that exactly?”
A half a dozen answers come to mind, but in the end, I don’t say any of them.
“That’s what I thought.” She rolls her eyes. “Just admit you saved me, Hudson. I promise, it won’t make you any less of a jerk in the long run.”
“I think you’re confused.” I shake my head again, more determined than ever to make it stick this time. The last thing I want from Grace is gratitude. It’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted from her. “I was just—”
“I don’t want to argue with you,” she says. “Especially over something so ridiculous.”
“So don’t,” I answer. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do right now.” Besides, you know, ripping my heart out of my chest again.
Things like returning to Katmere and taking her rightful place in the Circle.
Both necessary.
Both important.
And both extremely dangerous.
Because Grace may have survived my father’s bite, but that only makes her more of a target, not less. He will heal eventually, and when he does, he’ll be angrier, and more afraid, than he ever was before.
Which means it’s already too late.
The war I’ve worked so hard to prevent—the war my brother and others have tried to blame me for inciting—will come whether we want it or not.
Whether we’re ready for it or not.
And now that we know what side the wolves will fall on… It took an army of gargoyles to defeat them the last time the vampires and wolves fought together. Who knows what it will take today, especially when all we have is one gargoyle and a few rogue vampires to join the witches and the dragons.
Not great odds.
But thinking about the war will wait…at least a few more days. Because as Jaxon reaches down to help Grace from the hole I created for her, he wraps his arms around her and presses her body to his. And I begin to see red, even before he leans down to kiss her, and every ounce of chill—and emotional self-preservation—I have goes out the fucking window.
My hands curl into fists, my fangs explode in my mouth, and though there were a million other ways I was hoping to break my newfound knowledge to Grace, the words come out before I can even think about stopping them.
“Jaxon, if you wouldn’t mind, take your fucking hands off my mate.”
End of book Two
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