Page 65 of Courting the Tiger King

Sonnet stepped away from Skye, his hand stretching out in the space between them before she dropped it and pressed a palm to Wren’s temples and her other hand to his chest. A faint tingle of magic, far less than what he’d just witnessed, swept through him and Sonnet nodded. “She’s alive. Your bond is intact. How do you feel? Any pain?”

“Just my head. And my side.”

Sonnet bit her lip. “Phantom injuries. They hurt her.”

Claws ripped through his skin and Skye jerked Sonnet back, shielding her with his body as Wren’s vision swam red.

“This doesn’t help her,” Skye snapped, eyes flashing even as the lines around them deepened with exhaustion. “Let’s get Romi to the healers. You find Jamison and tell him what’s going on. Wewillfind her. Control. Yourself.” The last words were a snarl worthy of a shifter when Wren’s skin rippled and he fought the shift, nodding jerkily.

“Okay. Okay.” He pushed out a long breath. “I’ll meet you in the healer’s wing.” Skye nodded and made to leave when Wren stopped him with a quick touch of his shoulder. “And Skye? Thank you.”

The witch softened, clasping Wren’s hand briefly before hurrying away. They’d got there in time to save Romi. Wren just prayed they would do the same for Neah.

In less than twenty-four hours, Wren should have been curse free and tied irrevocably to the woman he loved. So naturally, everything had gone to shit.

He’d awoken Jamison, his face turning grey when Wren relayed what had happened, and he didn’t need to speak the words for Wren to know that Neah’s father blamed him.

Wren blamed himself too.

But guilt wouldn’t help Neah. He could wallow later, for now, he needed to find his mate.

By the time they’d found Romi, she’d been close to death and had nearly bled out in the hours between her wound and their rescue. Without Skye’s warning, Romi would be dead and they would have had even less time to pick up the trail of whoever had taken Neah.

When the seamstress’ eyes fluttered open, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Zennon squeezed Romi’s hand, shoulders slumped forward as she watched the rise and fall of the other woman’s chest. Romi’s voice was weak, but clear.

“Neah.”

“We know,” Zennon said, voice soft as she searched Romi’s face and Wren felt uncannily like they were intruding on a private moment, but it couldn’t be helped. They needed to know what had happened. “Can you tell us what you remember?”

Romi nodded and then winced, likely as the movement pulled at the spot in between her chest and shoulder where her wound had been. It had healed, but the soreness would last a few days. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes, making the light blue irises look more like an ocean. “I let him in and?—”

“Who?” Wren asked and then softened his tone when Zennon’s head snapped up to glare at him. “You’re not responsible for this, Romi. The person who took her is to blame.”

She sucked in several deep breaths and when she spoke again, her voice was steadier. “Two guards. I let one in when he knocked, he was in uniform—I didn’t know—I should have—” Romi bit her lip and Zennon leaned in, murmuring to her in words pitched low enough that Wren couldn’t hear even if he’d wanted to invade their privacy. “The guard had a knife.”

All at once, Wren knew what had happened. “He threatened you to make her compliant.”

Romi nodded. “Then a second guard arrived and he had these chains, Neah put them on and she–she went completely white, like bone. They said it would stop her from shifting.”

Skye and Sonnet shared a look and Wren frowned. “What?”

“It’s just that, if the chains stop her from being able to shift, it probably stops other elements of her magic.” Skye’s brows pinched together. “Like her ability to heal.”

Wren began to pace, aware of everyone’s eyes on him as he fought for control. They had nearly killed Romi. What were the chances that Neah was uninjured? Remembering the tenderness in his side and head, Wren grimaced. It didn’t seem likely, which meant Neah couldn't shift and was healing at a human’s speed rather than a shifters’.

He looked to Jamison, who sat quietly in a chair by Romi’s bedside, and wondered aloud, “Do you have a way to account for all the guards’ whereabouts yesterday?”

The captain sat straighter and nodded. “There’s a rota. But the men often swap positions if they have a preferred shift or location.”

In other words, useless, Wren thought but bit his tongue.

“Maybe Romi could identify the guards if we assemble them?” Gabe suggested and then balked at the wide-eyed terror that flooded Romi’s face at the prospect of seeing her attacker. “Or not,” he said weakly.

“No.” Wren held up a hand. “That’s a good idea.”

“You can’t be serious,” Zennon stood abruptly, her chair toppling over from the force of the movement. “I want to find Neah just as much as you but you can’t force Romi to?—”

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