Chapter 4

The Pack Queen was still laughing with the she-wolf beside her.

She had no idea.

The forest went silent.

No birds. No insects. Not even wind.

A roar exploded through the trees.

"A beast! Protect the Queen! Now!"

But it was already too late.

In an instant.

A white tiger with a black-striped face lunged at the carriage.

It moved faster than the guards could react.

The Pack Queen's face went white.

In that split second.

I threw myself in front of her.

Everyone screamed.

As the tiger hit me.

I reached back and pulled the Pack Queen's gold-hilted dagger from her belt.

I drove it into the tiger's neck.

Hot blood sprayed everywhere.

But the tiger didn't stop.

Its claws came down on my shoulder, tearing through.

I was thrown off the carriage and hit the ground hard.

The tiger was furious.

It growled low and walked toward me.

The dagger was still stuck in its throat.

I had no weapon. I pressed one hand to the ground and dragged myself back.

The wound on my shoulder burned. Blood ran down my arm.

It left a red trail on the dirt.

The tiger came closer.

Eyes bright with rage.

Guards were running, still too far.

Hold on. Just hold on.

But the tiger didn't give me the chance.

It opened its mouth. Fangs white, breath hitting me in a wave.

My hands scrambled on the ground.

I grabbed a fistful of dirt and threw it at its eyes.

The tiger froze for a second.

I rolled sideways.

Found a fallen branch and held it across my chest.

The tiger lunged at me again.

My pupils snapped tight.

Everything slowed.

Then white light cut across my eyes.

A long spear tore through the air.

It drove straight into the tiger's skull.

The massive body crashed down.

Blood rained.

A young woman put her boot on the tiger's head.

She crouched down to look at me.

"Brave of you."

Clear voice. Almost teasing.

Clearly a she-wolf.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You're trying to fight a tiger with a little stick."

I froze.

Behind me, Dorian's voice came out shaking.

"Vivienne?!"

Dorian came over fast, surprised and relieved at once.

"When did you get back?"

"Why didn't you tell me — I would have come to meet you—"

"Calloway."

Vivienne cut him off.

Her tone was polite. Her eyes were distant.

"I was sent back to the Capital on Pack orders. It was on my way. Don't trouble yourself."

Dorian's hand tightened and then relaxed.

His eyes moved to me.

"Right. Vivienne."

He said it like he'd just remembered.

"Let me introduce you. This is Ivy. My intended mate."

He said it casually.

But his eyes stayed on Vivienne the whole time.

He was waiting to see if she'd be surprised. Hurt. Even a little bothered.

Vivienne just said "oh."

Then she looked at me, and looked at Dorian, and tilted her head slightly.

"Your intended mate?"

"Yes."

Dorian smiled, the easy careless smile he always wore.

"Saw her at the gathering. She seemed like a good fit. Decided on the spot."

Vivienne made a short sound.

Dorian's smile went stiff.

"What?"

Vivienne didn't answer him.

She looked at me instead.

Head tilted just a little.

"Ivy Pemberton." She said my name like a question. "Why would you want him?"

Dorian's face changed.

I went still.

Vivienne didn't wait for an answer.

She tore a strip from her sleeve.

She wrapped my wound quickly.

Dorian stood there, face cycling through colors.

"Vivienne. What do you mean by that?"

"Your intended is injured and you're not asking if she's hurt. You're here arguing with me?"

Vivienne's voice was level.

"Also. We both have bonds already waiting."

"Calloway. Have some self-respect."

She said it, then picked me up.

She carried me with no warning.

She smelled clean, sharp, like pine soap.

Safe enough to put me to sleep.

I pressed my palm to the ground and fought to stay awake.

"Vivienne."

I said it quietly.

"I can walk."

Vivienne didn't stop.

I tried again.

She still didn't answer.

Just walked, steady, with me in her arms.

I reached up to push against her shoulder.

But the moment I touched her jacket, she caught my wrist.

Her eyes dropped to my palm.

It was full of crescent marks where my own nails had dug in.

My face went pale.

The feeling of being completely seen.

Then she sighed softly.

"This much pain and you're still pretending."

"Ivy Pemberton. You've had a hard life."

I woke up from the pain.

My shoulder wound felt like it was on fire.

I curled up without thinking.

Then I heard a flat voice.

"Don't move."

The tent was dim, one small lamp lit.

A young man sat at the edge of the bed, reading a medical text.

He had clean, sharp features.

His eyes and the shape of his face were about seventy percent like Vivienne's, but none of her brightness.

What he had instead was distance.

He closed the book and looked at me.

"I just finished stitching you up."

"If you tear it, I'm not promising it'll look clean."

I blinked slowly.

"Caspian Forsythe?"

I had heard of him.

Vivienne's younger brother. The youngest head Healer the Pack Infirmary had ever had.

People said he could treat anything.

Even Pack elders feared his cold bedside manner.

Caspian gave a short answer and walked to his desk.

He picked up a pen and started writing a prescription.

"My sister asked me to look after you."

"She said you're reckless. Told me to watch you so you don't get yourself killed."

I pressed my lips together.

Caspian glanced up.

"Say it."

"Where's Vivienne?" I asked.