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“Why don’t you answer me?” Emery asked. “Did you–did you marry me because you thought—you thought I was dying?”
His gaze darkened. “Would my answer change a thing?”
“It will.”
“Then… I did,” he said. “It was the only way I could take care of you while you-”
“You knew this could potentially kill me… Why didn’t you suggest something like… getting rid of it?” she interrupted.
“Sadly, once it’s inside the human body, there’s no way that-” He let out a sigh. This was the hard truth about being one with the supernatural. “Not even the best medical–grade tech could get rid of it without hurting the mother.”
Emery snorted. She turned her head away. Now it made total sense. The extravagant gifts ced under her name were…pensation. They were damnpensation for her potential death!
Emery’s chest lifted and fell in a tight rhythm. “Isn’t that too ruthless?”
Logan shifted his weight. One hand opened as if he meant to reach for her. “Please listen—”
She raised a palm. “Don’t.”
He stopped, words caught between parted lips. His eyes glowed brighter, gold flecked with a darker ring she had not noticed before. He held her gaze for a steady heartbeat, then exhaled.
“Talk to me when you’re calm,” he said.
“Get out.”
Logan backed up. He closed the drawer, slid the chair aside, and walked to the door without another word. The soft click of thetch sounded final.
Emery’s fingers dug into the nket. The chandelier glittered overhead, sudden and garish. Her mind reyed ws slicing steel, a door wrenched off its hinges, and the easy strength in Logan’s arms. She thought of werewolves, vampires, and witches.
She rose and paced to the nightstand where her phoney. The screen was lit, and the signal was strong. Her thumb hovered over Nina’s name, then over to her grandmother’s–no, never Mary–and then over her brother’s. Every contact meant a target. She locked the phone and set it face–down.
She inhaled once, then exhaled more steadily. She crossed the room and pushed the balcony doors open. Cool air swept across her skin. She felt no aches or dizziness. Her limbs felt light, almost new.
Below, trees formed a dark wall against the sky. Somewhere beyond them, wolves might patrol, or worse. She gripped the rail until her knuckles nched, then eased her hold.
12:51 Fri, Sep 12 <b>B </b>
She had escaped from one prison only to walk into another. Brilliant move, Vaughn.
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She let the night air settle her nerves. She would not panic. She would not call for rescue that would drag others into this. She would think, n, and rely on herself.
She forced a dryugh. She had left her father’s luxurious prison only to enter Logan’s.
Her eyes narrowed at the horizon. She would not let this stand.
Emery left the balcony doors open and strode down the hallway. She found Logan’s office without asking for directions and pushed the door wide. Two men in dark jackets stood in front of his desk. They held folders and looked mid–sentence.
“Out,” she said.
Both men nced at Logan. He gave a small nod. They gathered the folders and moved past her. One shut the door behind them.
Logan stepped to a sideboard, uncorked a tall bottle, and poured deep red liquid into a crystal ss.
“Do you even get drunk,” Emery asked. “Or is that a distraction?”
He set the bottle down. “Are you calm now?”
“I am.”
He lifted the ss, watched the swirl, then set it aside untouched. “Werewolves need more alcohol than humans can brew. Our bodies heal too fast.”
She filed the fact away. “Who took me? I need a name.”
“Gabriel,” he said. “My half–brother.”
She crossed her arms. “Why?”
“He dislikes my position. Hurting you would hurt me.” Logan’s jaw tightened. “I am sorry you were dragged into it.”
Emery did not respond to the apology. “Is there a way to stop a werewolf? Silver? Something else?”
His brows lifted. “Why do you need that?”
“Because someone tried once. They can try again. I will not stand still.”
Logan studied her. She waited.
“Silver slows healing,” he said atst. “It does not always kill.”
“That is better than nothing. Think of something practical. I won’t strike first, but I will defend myself.”
She turned toward the door. “Take your time. And no, I will not aim at anyone innocent.”
<b>12:51 </b>Fri, Sep 12 B
<b>64 </b>
35 vouchers
Her hand touched the knob. Suddenly, Logan’s fingers closed around her wrist. She spun, and Logan stepped closer. She backed up until her shoulders touched the wall.
Golden eyes met hers. His breath brushed her cheek. He did not speak. Her pulse drummed, but she kept her gaze steady.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He held her there a second longer, eyes dropping to her mouth, then back up. His grip eased yet remained.
Emery waited, tension stretched tight between them and the empty office beyond.
Logan’s thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
The question caught in her throat. “No.”
“Have you watched someone die by another’s hand?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
His free hand pressed t against the wall beside her ear. “Do you know what it feels like to end a life?”
Emery swallowed. His shoulders caged her. Warmth radiated through her blouse where his chest hovered. She felt every breath he took.
“No,” she blinked.
“Good.” He leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched. “Your hands will stay clean. Mine are already stained.”
Her pulse hammered. She tried to tilt her chin up, but his closeness pinned her in ce. She could see faint shadows around his eyes, evidence of nights he never mentioned. His gaze dropped to her lips again.
“I am not dying,” Emery said. “And I am not fragile. I want to learn,” she said.
“You want to learn to defend yourself?”
“You can’t save me all the time. You can’t save us all the time. I have to defend myself.” She knew the basics of punching, but how could this be the same as punching a werewolf?
“You want a weapon,” he said. “Fine. I will teach you. But if anyonees for you, I will be there first.” His fingers slid to the back of her hand, tracing each knuckle. “You carry my child. That alone makes you untouchable.”
“Is that why you married me?” she whispered before she could stop herself.
“That was part of it.” He leaned closer, lips a breath away. “The other part is standing in front of me now, stubborn and alive.”
Heat curled low in her abdomen. She pressed her palms to his chest, meaning to push him. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt.
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Logan’s eyes darkened. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, pulse steady against his lips. “I will protect you, Emery. Even from my own blood.”
She exhaled, steadying herself. “Then start by loosening your grip.”
He opened his hand but did not step back. “You will learn to defend yourself. Tomorrow at dawn. Wear something you can move in.”
“And if I decline?”
His mouth curved, close enough that the movement brushed her skin. “You will not. Tomorrow, I will personally teach you how to kill a werewolf.”