Page 166 of Bitten & Burned
The silence that followed was immediate. Sharp.
Anton growled, “Excuse me?”
“The woundreeks,” Quil said flatly.
“You watch your damn mouth?—”
“I’m not trying to be insulting, Anton,” Quil said, holding his ground. “It’s just a fact. The blood’s fresh. Hot. Saturated in the mark. It’s calling. If we don’t muddle the scent, more of them will come. You know I’m right.”
A beat passed.
Then he acquiesced, “You could have led with that.” He was already moving. “I’ll draw the bath.”
Quil exhaled sharply. His hand curled around mine—warm and trembling.
“Baby,” he murmured, lips brushing the back of my hand. “Try and open your eyes, okay? Will you look at me?”
It took effort.
Everything hurt. The weight of my own eyelids heavy like stone. But I forced them open, blinking slowly as my vision swam—first a blur of light and shadow, then sharper. Clearer.
His face came into focus.
Beautiful. Pale. Worry etched into his face like lines in marble.
His dark eyes locked onto mine like a lifeline. Steady. Steeling himself—for me.
“There you are,” he breathed. Relief broke across his face in ripples. He kissed my hand again, slower this time. “You scared me, Rowena.”
“What happened?” My voice was barely recognizable. Shaky. Distant. Like it had been dragged up from the bottom of a well.
“You passed out in the study. Anton was holding you. It was after…” His jaw flexed. “After Rellin opened his mouth.”
“Silas,” I hissed.
The name alone sent a wave of heat through my chest. Not anger—fury. The memory came rushing back all at once: the blood, the horror, the truth.
“This is all his fault,” I rasped. “No—hisdoing. He set this up. Let it happen. He wanted me broken. Wanted me cornered. Out of options. So I’d cling to him.”
Quil shook his head sharply. “You’re not out of options.”
A tiny meow caught my attention. I looked down, after some tiny claw sounds on the comforter, Fig appeared, meowing and trying to run up to me. I pulled him in for a kiss, leaving him on my chest to play with my hair.
I blinked up at Quil. His hand was still wrapped around mine like it anchored him, too.
“Silas? He didn’t take into account the fact that I—” Quil swallowed. “Thatwewould be here. That we’d be protecting you. He thought you’d be alone. He was wrong.”
His voice was firmer now. Rougher. “We’re not going to let him have you, Rowena. Not ever. You’re safe. You hear me? We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. Let those words sink in. Let myself believe them, even if only for a breath.
Because it was Quil.
And when he said things like that, it felt like they could be true.
“The bath’s ready,” came Anton’s voice from the doorway.
A pause. Then a sharp inhale—half gasp, half prayer.
