Ingrid pushed her thick, waist-length braid behind her shoulder. “I got an email from Avery this morning. He said he didn’t want to get involved, because he’s about to become a father and worries for the safety of his child and mate. He hopes you understand that it isn’t to spite you guys but to protect his loved ones. He wishes Liam luck, though. Says many, many Creeks are hoping for Liam to win.” She eyed her father. When he nodded, she added, “He did tell us one thing that might help. ‘Parently, Morgan’s often bedridden. Word circulating around the Creek Pack is that she’s got a sensitive constitution.”
Liam set his half-drunk glass of juice on the thick wooden table. “Werewolves can eat carrion without getting sick.”
“Exactly,” Sam said, buttering a slice of sourdough. “We think it might be a symptom of whatever she’s doing to keep up her edge.”
I rubbed the satiny finish of the wooden tabletop. “Would taking tiny doses of Sillin for years create a habituation? Meaning, could her body shift in spite of having a minimal amount of the drug in her system?”
“I highly doubt it,” Sam said.
“She doesn’t heal fast,” I interjected. “I forgot to mention that last night, but for a shifter, her wounds bleed longer than they should. You noticed that too, Liam, right?”
“I did, but wounds caused by an Alpha take longer to heal, so I didn’t think it was particularly odd.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” I bit my lip, feeling a little foolish, but then I thought of her lips, and the bluish tinge. “Does extended use of Sillin cause skin discoloration?”
Sam frowned.
“Her lips are a bit . . . blue.” I grabbed a berry muffin from the basket in front of me and bit into the cakey treat, the tart sweetness of the fruit bursting on my tongue.
“They’ve always been like that,” Zack said. “It’s a birthmark or nevus or somethin’.”
“Samuel, you mind if I put you in contact with our pack doctor? He’s not a shifter but has been taking care of the Boulders for years now. We trust him completely,” Liam said.
“Sure. I’ll communicate my findings.”
Liam stood up. “I need to get back to my wolves. Are you coming with us to the airport, Zack?”
“No. I need to be with my little girl, but Ingrid and Sam will accompany you.”
“And me!” came a chirpy voice: Jane’s. “Sorry I’m late. I was with Poppy.”
“That’s all right, darlin’,” Zack said, getting up. He shook my hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ness. We wish you great strength for the coming duel.” Then he shook Liam’s. “We’ll be in touch. And don’t forget about . . .” He flicked his gaze toward Ingrid whose cheeks instantly turned crimson.
“Dad,” she muttered.
He gave her a wolfish grin before heading out of the dining hall, patting backs and leaning in to wish his shifters a good morning. From the laughter and smiles, I took it that Zack was a well-liked leader. Nostalgia for something I’d never had, a pack where everyone belonged, hit me square in the chest.
Liam touched my forearm. “Let’s go.”
Flanked by Zack’s kids, we left the compound.
Liam sat up front with Sam, and I sat in the back with the sisters. While the men talked about setting up a lab to create a new type of Sillin, I zoned out.
“Did he answer you?” Jane asked her sister at some point. Her voice was hushed, but the urgency made it carry to me.
“He did.”
“And?”
Were they talking about August? He could really be anyone. I was just being paranoid.
“I didn’t talk to him about that,” Ingrid murmured. “I just asked how he was doing and told him we might have a new project for him.”
Jane giggled and chirped, “Project marry-Ingrid,” but then she blurted out, “Ouch. What was that for?”
Ingrid must’ve made her reason clear with a look, because there was a long stretch of silence.
“I bet Ness would love not being the only she-wolf in her pack,” Jane said. “Right, Ness?”
I untaped my gaze from the landscape and turned to look at the two Burley sisters. I almost told them that August wasn’t on the market for a wife but bit my tongue. When their expectant gazes turned to frowns, I said, “It would be nice to have other females.”
But not Ingrid.
At least, not as August’s mate.
There were about ten other eligible guys to pick from within the Boulder pack. “You should meet the other Boulder bachelors before you settle.”
The back of Liam’s neck clenched. Of course he was listening.
“I did meet the others at the pack summit,” Ingrid said. “They were . . . nice. But I can’t picture myself with any of them. August, though”-her dreamy expression made me want to stab her eyeballs with toothpicks-“I can totally picture myself with him.”
Well, stop doing it. I jerked my gaze to the road before she could pick up on my rampant jealousy.
If I wasn’t able to let him go when the mating link was absent, how was I supposed to let him go once the link clicked back into place?
The plane ride back was nerve-wracking. I spent most of it gouging new scratches into the poor leather armrest. Liam didn’t make me feel bad about the damage. He barely seemed to notice, contemplative as he was. He alternated between staring out the hatch window and studying his phone screen.
I’d looked at mine and found a message from August that dated to the previous night: I wish you were sleeping next to me. The words created a resonating pang inside my chest that echoed in my heart.
“What did you take away from our trip?” Liam asked, dragging me out of my reveries.
“That I should start taking micro-doses of Sillin.”
“What?” Clearly not what he was expecting.
“Greg can figure out a dose that doesn’t affect me more than a couple hours at a time, right?”
Liam’s lips thinned in disapproval. “Not you. I’ll get Matt or someone else-”
“You’re paying me to help you, Liam. Let me be worth what you’re paying.”
His nostrils flared a few times before he finally conceded. “Fine.” He bobbed his head. “Fine. What’s your height and weight?”
“Five-seven. I haven’t weighed myself in months, though.”
“Approximately? One-forty?” he asked, typing out an email.
“Last time I checked, one-thirty.” I contemplated the cottony clouds fraying and assembling into new shapes outside the window. “You think Aidan Michaels can still shift? He must’ve taken more than Morgan to hide in plain sight.”