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Arianna didn’t attack or resist and twisted to find her mate staring at her with unguarded fear. It wasn’t often she saw him vulnerable and she’d never seen him so utterly undone. Like the world had collided in on him all at once.

“I didn’t do it,” he said, his voice a broken plea. She looked him over and tried not to recoil at the scent of blood covering his body. Arianna reached for the wound in his abdomen and his hand reflexively covered her wrist. His fingers squeezed lightly and he groaned when her magic pulled the deep wound back together. He was too pale. He needed rest.

“What’s going on?”

His eyes were still too wide and wild, so unlike the calm general who won every battle he’d ever faced. “I didn’t do it,” he repeated. His hands were shaking, his entire body trembling and his eyes wouldn’t stop scanning the room. “Please, you have to believe me, they—”

“Rion.”

“Set me up. They came out—”

“Rion.” She shook him.

“Of nowhere and they—”

Arianna grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. Rion stilled, but his breathing was still raw and ragged.

“Calm down,” she urged, her voice gentle. She’d never seen him like this. Like he—gods, was he having a panic attack?

“Breathe,” she coaxed and made a show of inhaling. Rion drew in a breath and slowed the rise and fall of his chest to match hers. His wild eyes calmed slightly, but his heart still pounded.

“It wasn’t me,” he said again.

Feet beat against the floor down the hall and she knew the guards would find her any minute.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Good. Then stay out of sight and find me later. I need to help those injured and figure out what’s going on.”

He gripped her shoulders tight, almost painfully. “They’re going to tell you it was my fault.”

Arianna pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and Rion loosened his grip, seeming to melt into her touch. “It’s okay. I’ll sort through it, I promise. Just lay low. Can you do that?” He nodded. “I’ll call for you soon.”

With a final look, Arianna darted from the room and gently closed the door. She rushed down the hall, glanced back once, then took the stairs two at a time.

A guard stopped her on the second floor. “My Lady, Lord Niall is looking for you. He wants you in the central hall with the others.”

“No,” Arianna shook her head. “You’ll take me to the wounded where I can help.”

He bowed low. “Please, your Grace, we don’t know where the threat is and our top priority is your safety.”

He was right about one thing: They didn’t know where the threat was, but if they were trying to pin it on Rion, then it wasn’t the kind of threat that would jeopardize her safety.

Anger pulsed through her. They wanted Rion gone so badly that they were willing to kill innocents to get what they wanted. Maybe she had made a mistake in staying here. Maybe she should have returned to Levea and made her demands from afar.

But she would have time to deal with that later. Right now there were people who needed her help.

“You can either lead me to the wounded, or I’ll wander around until I find them, which I’d wager would put me more at risk than is necessary. What’s it going to be?”

His eyes widened, but the male bowed again. “Please, follow me.”

Arianna tried to brace herself for what she was about to face. Again. The blood, the cries, the chaos, and the screaming. She had hoped that by coming here she had put it all behind her, but it seemed like no matter where she went, death followed and Arianna wasn’t sure how to escape it.

Chapter Fifty-three

Rion