Page 70 of The Wolf King

He winces when Ryan lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Then take the girl outside, and leave your pet,” says Blake. “She is of more use to me than you.”

I bristle at being called a pet, but he’s right. I can help.

Callum is too emotional. Whatever fight Ryan has ahead of him, it is clearly going to be painful—and Callum looks as if he wants to take the pain away.

The easiest way for him to do that would be to get rid of Blake. Yet Blake seems to actually know what he is doing. He is fixing him, in a way that no one was ever able to do for my mother.

“It’s okay, Callum,” I say, gently. “You should take Becky outside.”

I know Callum will not be happy to leave me, or Ryan, so I search for a way to make him feel like he is in control of the situation.

“Someone needs to find out what happened,” I say. “Others could be in danger. You should go with Becky and speak to Fergus.”

Callum takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Blake puts his hand on Ryan’s wound when Callum gets up.

Callum’s eyes narrow on him. “If you touch her—”

“Yes, yes, you’ll kill me in an undoubtedly unimaginative way. Don’t worry. I don’t harm things that are useful to me.”

Callum’s warmth floods me as he touches my shoulder and squeezes lightly.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

He takes Becky’s arm and leads her, sobbing, away. “If you need me, I’ll hear you.”

“I know.”

They head out of the room, and he closes the door behind them.

“Others could be in danger?” Blake rolls his eyes. “You’re a manipulative little thing, aren’t you?”

I glare at Blake. I do not like being called that. I wasn’t being manipulative. I was trying to help. “I got him to leave, didn’t I?”

Blake smirks. “Get a needle and thread from my case on the workstation. And the pot of white ointment.”

I hurry over. The pot sits amid an array of glass jars, pestles, and dried herbs. I grab it, then flip open his case. There’s are cold metal scalpels in there, alongside the items he’s asking for.

When I have them, I kneel by his side.

“Put the ointment on the wound.”

“What is it?” I twist off the lid. It smells sharp, like alcohol.

When I smear it onto the gash in Ryan’s side, he shrieks. Blake grabs his shoulders and pins him down.

“It’s to kill the bacteria. Wolves heal fast, but wounds can still get infected. Now, sew it up.”

“Sew it up?”

“Yes. Imagine you’re sewing a dress.”

I look at him. Was he listening in on mine and Callum’s conversation?

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