Page 39 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
“Please,” she stops me, her voice suddenly tired. “Just leave me alone.”
My wolf bristles at the dismissal. “I can’t do that. Not when you’re ill.”
“Why not?” she challenges me, that fighting spirit flaring brighter. Despite her obvious frailty, she stands straighter, chin lifted in defiance. “I’ve tried my best not to be a burden to you or come between you and your lover. What more do you want from me?”
I freeze, trying to make sense of her words. “My what?”
“Your lover,” she repeats, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You should have told me the truth rather than lie to me. She has already told me everything.”
My brow furrows. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I have no lover.”
She makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff. “I’ve seen you with her myself, late at night.”
For a moment, I stare at her, confused. At night?
Then, comprehension hits me like a freight train. “Are you talking about Elina? She’s a friend and fellow soldier, nothing more. If she said something to you, you misunderstood—”
Fiona turns away. “It doesn’t matter.”
It bothers me, I realize, the way she doesn’t seem to care about me having a lover. I was the one who rejected her, but she seems to be the one severing the ties between us.
“There is nothing romantic between Elina and me,” I say firmly. “She’s the sister of a fallen comrade. I’ve looked after her for years. That’s all.”
Fiona doesn’t say anything.
“Is Maya helping you?” I ask, changing tack. “With your illness?”
Fiona pauses, her back still to me. “Yes, Maya is helping me.”
“How? What are you two working on?”
She turns to face me now, that defiant spark returning despite her obvious exhaustion. “That’s between Maya and me.”
“You could die,” I say, my voice breaking on the last word.
“We all die eventually,” she replies with a shrug that takes visible effort. “At least I’m making my own choices now.”
I stare at her, sensing there’s more she isn’t telling me. “Fiona—”
“I’ve heard what they say about me, ” she cuts in, her voice suddenly hard despite its weakness. “The soldiers, the palace staff, the noble families. I know I’m not welcome here.”
I shake my head, taking a step toward her. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” she insists, and for the first time, I see real pain break through her composed exterior. “The female shifters have made it quite clear. They call me an abomination, an experiment, the half-breed. They say I tried to seduce you, that I pretended to be your fated mate to gain status.”
My blood runs cold. “Who said these things about you?”
“Does it make any difference?” She lets out a bitter laugh that dissolves into a cough. She covers her mouth, but not before I see the crimson staining her lips. “It’s what everyone believes. That I’m some desperate, broken thing trying to claim what isn’t mine.”
I fight the urge to go to her, to support her as she sways slightly. She would reject my help, and I can’t blame her.
“I’ll speak to them,” I promise. “This stops now.”
“Don’t bother,” she says, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief already spotted with blood. “It will only confirm their suspicions if you defend me.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do!” she snaps, that uncompromising spirit blazing despite her fragile state. “I survived twenty years of torture and captivity. I won’t be pitied or protected now. Not by you, not by anyone.”
