Acid burns my throat as I heave out the contents of my stomach. Tears fill the corners of my eyes and my stomach revolts, threatening to climb my esophagus and escape along with my breakfast.
The next thing I know, a boy crouches beside me, a comforting hand smoothing down my back. I flinch at the contact. I didn’t even hear him come in. I didn’t smell his arrival. Nothing. “What the hell, Isa? Are you okay?” Zheng says and my shoulders sag in relief at the sound of his voice.
I hold a hand out to keep him at bay as I dry heave over the trash can, my stomach intent on puking some more, despite being empty.
When the heaving stops, I sink to the floor, scrubbing my hands over my face. I lean my head back against the wall and try to slow my breathing and tamp down on the panic coursing through me. Whatever that stupid witch did is making me want to crawl into a hole and die.
My hands shake. “I need …” I shake my head as I fight to form coherent words. “I need this off.” I tear at my shirt, ripping it over my head. Zheng curses.
“What are you—”
I claw at my chest, feeling the magic still on my skin. “Help me get it off.”
Understanding my meaning, I hear Zheng rush from the room. He comes back a minute later and presses a soaked rag to my chest. I take it from him and scrub at my skin until it feels like it’s going to peel off.
Before I can put the cloth down, he guides my hand higher to the base of my throat and then releases me. Understanding his meaning, I scrub that area, too.
“I think you got it all.” He says, taking the rag and replacing it with another.
I use it to swipe over my face before trailing it down my neck and breastbone, ensuring nothing of the blue substance remains.
A few minutes pass and my vision slowly clears. Relief sweeps through me. It’s still fuzzy but more like everything has soft edges. Rather than just being giant splotches of color.
The door opens and Desmond steps inside, his eyes immediately zeroing in on me. “What’s going on here?” His nostrils flare and he rushes forward. “What the fuck did you do?” He turns a hot glare toward Zheng who stands and takes several steps away.
“I didn’t do anything. She stumbled in here reeking of magic. I only followed to see if she needed help.”
“Where the hell is her shirt?”
Zheng points away to wherever I threw it and Des curses. He pulls his shirt off, exposing the dark brown expanse of his chest and the deeply grooved muscles of his abdomen. If I weren’t so out of it, I’d take a few seconds to appreciate his toned body, but I can barely keep my eyes open, the bright light of the room only adding to my headache.
Handing it to me, I pull it on and mutter out a thank you.
Once the shirt is in place, he reaches for me, but I shake my head and pull myself to my feet. I use the counter to steady myself as my ribs scream in protest and my head spins. Nausea rolls through me again, though this time not from magic. I grit my teeth, knowing the Lyc-V coursing through my veins is already working to repair the damage, but bones don’t heal in a matter of minutes like scrapes and bruises. This will take at least a few days.
The door opens a second time and Jordy steps inside. “Yo, Des. What’s taking you so—fuck!”
I lift my head and take in his wide-eyed stare. “Someone better start talking before Rafael gets here.” The door opens again and Rafael walks in.
Jordy whistles. “Too late.”
Rafael spots me and his eyes flare. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Nothing.” I shrug, but the movement causes me to wince.
“Nothing?” Rafael stalks closer, his hand reaching out. He cups my cheeks, turning my head from side to side before trailing his hands over me. I hiss when he fingers my ribs.
“This doesn’t look like nothing.”
He peels up the shirt and traces each bone until he finds the one that’s broken. Fiery hot rage floods his gaze and his eyes turn liquid silver. Anger radiates from him and I can see the struggle in his face as he fights to leash his wolf.
“Spill, Isabella,” Jordy says, and damn, we must be taking this seriously because Jordy never uses my full name. It’s always Isa or vanilla.
I swallow and shove my shirt back into place. “It’s nothing.” Four sets of disapproving eyes meet my gaze. “I handled it.”
“You handled it?” Desmond deadpans.
I raise my chin. “Yeah, I handled it.”
Rafe still hasn’t moved. His hands are fisted and his nostrils are flaring. His entire body vibrates and I know he’s fighting to keep from shifting.
“You better start talking,” Jordy says. “We need to know who the fuck thought they could go after you.”
I shake my head. I can’t tell them. It’s clear none of them have considered the ramifications yet. But I have. I’m an unaffiliated wolf who was just attacked by a well-connected witch. I don’t get to retaliate. All I get to do here is survive.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a scratch. It’ll heal.” I’m less worried about the broken rib and more concerned about whatever that substance was she threw on me. But I can’t tell the guys about that. If I do, they’ll completely lose it. I need to stay calm.
Rafael said I was his but that doesn’t make me Pack. He can’t defend me as though I am. Not with something like this. And I can’t be the reason behind an all-out shifter verses witch war which is exactly what will happen if any
