Page 55

B efore I can react with disbelief, shock, laughing, mocking, or whatever the fuck I would feel about that sarcastic statement of Cain’s—if he would let me process it—he leans down and seals my lips with his.

He knows he doesn’t want to hear my response.

I kiss him back without letting his tongue in, but it quickly turns passionately desperate anyway. We kiss, we bite, we touch our faces, necks… He stops his hand at my clavicle, drawing my attention to the fact he’s being respectfully tamed with his touches, just following my lead, not forcing, not pressing, because he knows…

And then it dawns on me. Cain knows I’m in pain. He can feel it through the mate bond. And I can feel his pain, too.

It’s unbearable. A sob escapes my lips, and he wraps his arms tightly around me, pressing me to himself—making it even harder to suppress all of the agony that wants to escape me.

“You are allowed to grieve even if you didn’t want him.”

I cry, hiding my face in his neck, and then I fully register what he said and start to laugh through the tears.

It’s this kind of rare, healing laugh that sometimes happens when you are talking with your best friend; when you speak so raw, even the biggest problems turn into this bellyaching, tear-drawing laugh…

Cain presses his lips to my temple, and I feel him smiling. “What?” he asks with amusement.

“Future Kings and their certainty of siring the first son,” I look at him with glossy eyes and a huge grin.

“Oh, it was just a figure of speech,” he rolls his eyes, but I can feel through our complete mate bond that he’s not irritated. Quite the opposite.

“Yeah, that’s what my father said. And here I am, with a boy name, because he was so sure about having his first heir to the throne to think about a girl name just in case.”

“King Asher,” he rolls off his tongue. “You really did give up all of that for me, didn’t you?”

“Not for you, you megalomaniac. For all the werewolves.”

“Oh God, you would die before admitting I’m not as horrible as you thought.”

This time I do feel clear annoyance through the bond. I am getting better at reading him.

I sigh and adjust the pillow to lie down more comfortably.

“You know, all of my life, plans were centered around fighting you. All the combat training, military school, learning how to throw knives, becoming the General, unaware of losing my innocence in the process, all the killings, it all had one purpose. To kill you in the end… I don’t even know what to do with my life now.”

“First of all, you are still fighting me, just on a different front, and you will end up killing me if you keep throwing yourself in the middle of the battles. And second… You are bleeding again, so shut up, lay down, and go back to healing.”

I shake my head ‘no’.

“Back to healing. And I am going to check on Claudia in the dungeons because I’m clearly distracting you,” he stands up and goes to his dresser. “Klara will bring some food soon, so you won’t be alone.”

Did he say dungeons?

“Yes, he did say dungeons,” Cain mocks me. “She was condemned for betraying her Alpha.”

I tried to block my direct thoughts from him already, but I guess I’m not able to do that in the state I am in.

“She wasn’t betraying you. She was helping me save you!”

“Well, say that to my father,” Cain says while putting his black sweatpants on. “I can’t override King's commands, so I can do nothing about it.”

“When will you be back?”

“Half an hour?” he says hesitantly and stops at the doors, “I can stay if you want.”

“No, Claudia is more important right now. I can’t believe she’s imprisoned because of me, and you let me have a relaxing two-hour bath.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I wave him off, “Go, just go.”

As soon as Cain leaves, I jump off the bed and pull on my own sweatpants and top. Everything hurts, I almost bend down in half on my way out of the room, but I need to be quick, so I ignore the pain and possible incoming internal bleeding for now.

I don’t stop until I run into Klara and a wide tray with two covered dinner platters.

“Leave it in Alpha’s bedroom and come back to me without informing him of anything,” I Alpha-command her with the absolute rest of my energy, “I need to find the Rogue King.”

She winces under the power I bestowed on her and does as told.

When I enter the double doors of his lavish, very monarch-like private suite, in the part of the castle I’ve never been to, I can barely stay on my feet.

But I do it anyway; I owe it to Claudia. The guards who let me in leave the oversized room, closing the doors behind them.

“Well, well, well, look who is standing on her own already,” the Rogue King mocks me with a smirk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your majesty, I came to talk about one of our prisoners,” I bow as low as I can in my rapidly worsening state.

I take advantage of the bowing and close my eyes shut, trying to concentrate on healing what I can. I am not sure what is wrong, and the stubborn part of me that is trying to block from my mind the reason I should be grieving right now—is not helping me find the physical source of my pain. Neither is the absence of my true mate’s touch.

Or a desperate need to fix the situation with Claudia, like it’s the only thing I can get fixed.

“I was hoping you would come. To be completely honest, that’s the only reason I put my son’s whore there. You came for her, right, Little Wolf?”

I look up, straight into the familiar dark navy-blue eyes of the Rogue King. For a moment, I’m distracted by the lavish crimson-red open robe he has on, but I quickly compose myself and straighten my back.

“Do you care to elaborate, your Majesty?” I ask, bowing slightly again in a mocking tone I can’t hold back.

“I mean… the secret itself wasn’t truly a secret if everyone knew it except somehow you, right? But my guards reported that you spend a lot of time with her, so I thought it would be fun if I put her in prison anyway.”

Thank the Goddess I was tirelessly trained to politely ignore such dick behaviors even in my sleep.

“Your Majesty, if I may point out, you already admitted there basically was no treason committed…” I quickly cover my mouth to cough.

I can smell the metallic scent of fresh blood before I see drops of it on my hand. What the fuck?

The King smirks at the sight and starts answering me—like a werewolf coughing blood was the most natural thing in the world, “I wouldn’t say it wasn’t committed at all, but it was relatively trifle, and when I came to see your vegetative state with my own eyes—my son already reported that it ultimately helped him win the war, so I guess… Yes, I can pardon her. I’ll send the papers to my council to release her at midnight. You have my word.”

My attempts to heal whatever is causing the blood outside of my reproductive organs has stopped again. That was too easy. What’s going on? Why is he playing with me ?

I try to mind-link Cain, but I’m so weak…

“Now that you are already here.” He chuckles to himself and sits on the velvet couch in front of me, with his robe catching my attention again.

The Crimson King …

The doors behind me open, and despite the lack of the alluring, lemony scent, I still hope it’s Cain.

It’s not. A few guards are coming in, along with… Elders? Including some guy that I don’t know but who looks so familiar it plays with my mind. And Cain’s Delta. They all stand around the King, looking at me nervously.

“I hereby charge you with deliberately killing the next heir to the Rogue Kingdom’s throne.”

What in the dark ages is that?! My adrenaline jumps, and I want to flee from this ridiculous medieval situation before they cut my head for having a miscarriage, for Goddess's sake. But I can’t. My lungs burn like I’m drowning, and my legs can’t hold my weight anymore. I fall to my knees, but no one reacts.

“What is the accusation based on, Sire?” One of the elders asks.

Why do I never see these grey-haired men around? Is this his council? I sway, trying to stay upright.

I feel so weak…

“That’s exactly what I would like to know,” Cain’s voice beams behind me. He strides toward me.

I flinch, when for a second there I’m almost sure he wants to kick me. There is loathing in the way he glances at me, but as soon as he stands next to me I still catch his calf to steady myself and start healing as much as I can. Which is barely any.

“Oh, my favorite son.”

“Hard not to be favorite when you kill all the others,” Cain comments bitterly, focusing on the King and not on me. “So, what did my wife supposedly do again, Father?”

I start coughing more blood and try to heal my lungs, but they seem to not be the source of the problem. The more blood I cough, the more eyes on me I feel.

‘ Don’t die on me now, Ash, heal for fuck’s sake. I need you,’ Cain mind-links me, maintaining the casual, unbothered look on the outside.

“She deliberately lost your pup on the battlefield to hide the news of the existence of the future heir.”

There are a few gasps, but I’m desperately trying to focus on different parts of my aching body—instead of the vicious lies from Rogue King's pretty mouth, now that Cain is here.

He’ll help me. Right?

“And that’s your official charge and motive for the crime?” Cain makes sure with a bored voice—either perfectly concealing his true emotions—or perfectly acting in front of me behind closed doors.

“Yes, my son. First, she didn’t tell you about the pregnancy, and then she jumped at the first opportunity she had to end it before she’d have to tell you.”

What the fuck?!

“I didn’t jump to—” I try to defend myself, but I start coughing again. My abdomen feels like it’s ripping in half…

“I’m so glad we established that it’s the official charge,” Cain’s deep voice commands the room, “Because we can stop it right here and not waste anyone’s fucking time anymore. You are occupying my Delta when he’s needed up north, Father.”

Fuck it, I can’t… I have to…

“What do you suggest, your Highness?” The weirdly familiar guy asks with an unpleasant tone of voice .

“I knew about the pregnancy, Beta Alfred. I planned it, she told me as soon as she knew, I have proof, and we are very happy to have more mini-wolves someday to honor our Kingdom’s rich traditions. Especially considering we are joining two of the strongest werewolf families in the world. Now, if you excuse me, I have to take my wife to heal so it can happen someday—and if anyone tries to stop me I’ll fucking deal with him accordingly.”

“Your Highness, can—”

I look up to see Cain's sword on the throat of the oldest Elder.

That’s the last thing I register before my vision blurs, and I hear all that noise in my ears, making it impossible to concentrate on finding the source of my internal bleeding.

‘ Cain… ’

He picks me up bridal style, and I wrap my arms around him, breathing his neck in…

You never gave me your mark, little wolf. You have to wake up. You have to wake up for me, Ash.

I look around disoriented. Cain brought me back to our room, but it has hospital smell to it now. I notice the IV in my left hand again, and the back of some machine standing on my left.

“Did you ask me to mark you?” I ask, half-consciously knowing Cain must be near.

I feel his hand on my ankle and then see him sitting at the edge of the bed—talking with the doctor and Beta Lucifer. All three of them don’t look close to the low state they were in when I lost consciousness last time, and I wasn’t coughing blood then, so it must not be that bad.

“I… no. Why? I mean, I did when I found you in the hospital, but it was a week ago…”

Okay, that is so confusing. Something doesn’t add up. “What happened?”

“What do you mean? You don’t remember, Luna?” The doctor comes to me with a finger pointed up in front of my face and flashes some light straight into my eyes.

I can’t help but growl at the sudden intrusion. “Should I remember?”

“You were conscious the whole time,” the doctor informs me and starts moving the machine. “You were in so much pain from all the internal bleeding you had, that you almost knocked the Alpha out through the mate-bond. Um, we had to give you some sedatives, but you were responsive.”

Oh.

“Okay,” I say slowly, waiting for more information.

I don’t know if they give me more of that sedative, but I feel like I’m drifting away again. I close my eyes and the whole charade with the trial plays before my eyes again.

“I hate that guy,” I mumble, shuddering at the crimson-robed white version of Cain. “Can I kill him? Oooh would I be the Rogue King then?”

I feel Cain’s hand on my forehead.

“Would I be the King of all Alphas if I killed your father, Little Wolf?”

I nod my head, and it hurts, so I stop nodding, and hum, “Mhmm.”

“Well, no matter what happens with my father, I’m still the next King. So, sorry, but you would have to do it only for pure satisfaction.”

“Shit, I always wanted to be a King,” I mutter under my breath and go to sleep.

I wake up to something cold touching my skin. I open my eyes without moving any other muscle and look around.

Still Cain’s room, still the same people around. But now Cain is half sitting next to my head, Beta is laying by my feet, and Doctor is moving an ultrasonogram probe around my gel-covered abdomen .

“Alpha said you were very… um, selective with your healing before you started bleeding out. That’s a very cool trick, I admit, but next time you ever cough blood, and it’s not just your lungs, please, Luna, heal your whole body at once.”

“I feel fine,” I dismiss him and prop myself to give him better access.

“You feel fine, Luna, because your body started automatically healing everything when you relaxed after the sedative and the help from Alpha to channel your powers.”

I shake my head in denial because that would mean I healed everything and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. That’s the last thing I deserved . The doctor glances at Cain for some help and concentrates on the sonogram again.

“Little Wolf, I’m sorry you were not conscious enough to understand what was going on or control it, and you can be mad at us as long as you live, but we both know you would die otherwise, and I won’t let that happen.”

I shake my head again, even if I know he’s right.

“Alpha,” the Doctor moves the screen to show him the black and grey image. “It’s…”

I’m not an ultrasonogram specialist or any kind of health worker, and it is a grainy gray blurp, but even I know it doesn’t look good. These lines?

“What is it?”

“That’s, um, scar tissue. It’s everywhere in the lower abdomen.”

Scar? On a werewolf? In—I mean… but…

“I wasn’t stabbed that many times.”

The doctor looks at me with a blank expression, and I can see with peripheral vision that Cain starts to massage his temples. Beta looks at me unamused.

“What did you do again?” he asks.

I already know they had no idea about me being stabbed at all.

“I always quickly close the wounds on the battlefield if I don’t have time to heal completely, that’s why I am able to have such great stats.”

“Again, Luna, cool trick, but please. Don’t .” The doctor continues smearing me with a cold gel and showing all the scar tissue to Cain.

I’m distracted by Beta’s low growl, though.

“That selective crap again,” he mutters, probably jealous that I can do that. Not many wolves could.

I elongate only one nail into the claw and show him on my middle finger.

He looks unamused, but then he sighs, “Damn it, that was good.”

“Sorry, Doctor,” I apologize for my unprincess-like behavior.

“I need to have a better view of your uterus. I can’t see anything, especially when your bladder isn’t full.”

“Fine,” I say and start undressing in front of them because one of them is a doctor, one is my husband and one is gay—and I strongly believe any guy who is grossed-out by blooded pads deserves to look at them anyway.

“So, what do we do with all that scar tissue everywhere?” I hear Cain asking as I lay there with closed eyes, trying to process everything that we just saw.

It's one thing to think you don’t deserve to have any more pups, and completely different to hear your uterus is a shredded, unhealable mess.

Even with your supernatural healing powers.

This whole time, I thought I was choosing to not heal myself completely, and now… it turns out to be impossible anyway.

It hurts a million times worse than any bleeding out to death ever could.