Chapter 26

I woke on my back, naked on cold, hard ground. Pain screamed through my right shoulder. Sick heat seared through my veins. I tasted metal in my mouth. I groaned.

“Dane!” Aurora knelt beside me. Her hands were cool and dry on my feverish, sweating forehead. “Don’t try to get up. They had someone hiding in the trees. You were shot with a silver bullet.”

Fuck me. No wonder I felt like death. “Did it go through?” I asked.

“They left it in long enough to make you sick. Then they pulled it out.”

No wonder my shoulder felt like it had been sliced down to the bone and set on fire.

Aurora pulled her hand away. Only then did I open my eyes. It didn’t make much difference. All I could see was darkness.

It was cold. I reached for my wolf. Transforming would help me heal, and it would keep me warmer. But he whimpered and moaned and wouldn’t emerge. There was too much silver in my body. I was stuck as a human, possibly for days.

“Where are we?” I asked Aurora.

“I don’t know. Some cave deep in the mountains. They lowered us down this small cliff and left. I haven’t heard anything since. If they’re guarding us, they’re probably outside the cave.”

She paused, then said, “You could probably jump or climb out in your lycan form. Can you shift?”

“No.”

Another pause. I realized how cold it was. The wet kind of cold that seeps into your bones. Already my fingers and toes were like ice.

“How long have we been down here?” I asked.

“Hours. They lowered food down. A thermos with something hot inside. Maybe soup. I haven’t had any. I don’t know if they’d poison us or not. Though…if they were going to kill us, they could have done it. There’s not really a point in dragging us both here, then digging the bullet out of you, then feeding us.”

I grunted again, surprised at her insight.

Or maybe this was all a setup. A scheme.

But if it was, why was Aurora down here, too? What could she possibly gain? My trust? Was I supposed to believe all these forces were after her so that I’d finally break and believe she was on my side?

But then why disappear for five years in the first place?

And then there were those children. Where did they fit in?

I remembered Aurora’s pain as she shouted at me that I’d never trusted her. Never given her a chance.

I had good reason for that. Anyone would agree.

But…should I give her a chance?

There couldn’t be anything between us. Not with Evelyn expecting my child. But we could be allies, at least.

Maybe I shouldn’t be allies with a woman I dreamed about taking to bed. Hearing her moan. Making her pant, sweat, writhe. Hearing her scream my name…

I heard her make a small noise, like a shiver she was trying to hide. I moved to push myself up and realized there was fabric draped over my body. The sweet scent of lilacs drifted from it. “What’s this?”

“My sweater. It’s not much, but it’s all I have.” From the sound of her voice, she was sitting a few feet off to my left. “I have clothes. You don’t.”

I touched the soft fabric. It was barely a scrap. Hardly enough for modesty, let alone warmth. “You should get the thermos. Drink the soup. You’re right. They wouldn’t go to the trouble of keeping us alive just to poison us.”

I heard her shifting around. There was the sound of a metal lid unscrewing. The scent of broth made my mouth water.

“You should go first,” Aurora said. “You’re injured. I’m not.”

I was immediately suspicious. I opened my mouth to say something, but Aurora spoke first. “Here, I’ll drink some first, so you know I’m not working with the Reeds to poison you.”

“It’s dark.” I said. “How will I know?”

She made a sound that usually went with her rolling her eyes. Then she touched my shoulder, felt her way down my arm, and took my hand.

First, she dipped my fingers in the open thermos so I could feel how full of warm liquid it was.

Then she moved my fingertips to her throat. Then she tilted her head back and drank. I felt her throat move as she swallowed. When she was finished, she put my hand in the thermos again. It was lower.

She moved my hand to her face, her clothes. They were dry. She hadn’t dumped it and pretended to swallow.

I pushed myself up as best I could with my injured shoulder and propped myself against the cold cave wall. Aurora passed me the thermos, and I drank, too.

It was just chicken broth. Nothing special. More likely to make me feel my hunger than to fill my belly. But it was warm.

I drank what I thought should be a little less than half, then I handed it back to her. “Finish it.”

She did. When she got to the end, there was a long pause. “Dane… I think…”

From high above, Esther Reed’s voice cut through the dark, as if she’d been crouching there all along, waiting for us to wake and drink.

“I told you I’d prove you’re just as low as the rest of us. Now you’ll see.”

“Mother,” Aurora called out—as if down here, she’d forgotten Esther Reed was never her mother at all. “What did you give us?”