Kelly Meade - Black Rook

“It’s all right, young one,” Dr. Mike said. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

“This isn’t happening,” Brynn said. Her voice sounded muffled, far away.

The sleeve of her t-shirt was pushed up, then something cold touched her shoulder. She tried to look, but Rook turned her head back toward him. She focused on him—his concerned eyes, his full lips, on those strange silver things in his ears and the hints of tattoos on his neck. Something stung her shoulder.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“You’ll be okay,” Rook said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

A rush of vertigo changed everything, and Brynn reached for him even as she fell.

Carrying an unconscious woman down the stairs and out the front door of the auction house was a little too conspicuous for Rook. Of course, laying Brynn out on the office floor on a couple of towels, with the wicker chair cushions as pillows, wasn’t a spectacular compromise, but it was the best he and Knight could do. Even Dr. Mike was surprised at how quickly she’d succumbed to the small dose of ketamine he’d given her to counteract the poison. She wasn’t full-blood loup garou, and she’d been exposed to the poison longer than Rook, which seemed to account for her strange symptoms. Dizziness instead of the forewarned seizures.

He just hoped they’d acted quickly enough.

Once he deemed Brynn stable and sleeping, Dr. Mike packed up his bag, blood samples, and the ring, and he returned to his office to run his tests. With his own strength returning, Rook found himself pacing the length of the office, agitated and confined by the small room. His steps fell in uneven measures, creating an imperfect melody in his mind that did nothing to distract him.

“You’re making me dizzy,” Knight said from his perch on the edge of Father’s desk. The wicker chairs were not comfortable without the cushions, and no one but Father sat in his leather chair.

Rook mentally flipped him off and continued pacing. “How could she not know?”

“About what?”

“Having loup blood.”

“If her Magus blood is dominant, it’s possible she’s never even shifted. We’ve stumbled across human-loup half-breeds who have no idea they’re part loup.”

“But her father has to know. He’d have to know her mother wasn’t human or Magus or whatever it is they marry.”

“Rook.” Knight’s warning tone shaved the edge off Rook’s frustration. Insulting Brynn’s people wouldn’t help them figure this out—or help them decide what or how to tell Brynn about her reaction to the poison.

“I’m sorry.” Rook stopped pacing and leaned against the wall near Brynn’s head. She looked so peaceful asleep, so fragile, and his protective instincts increased. Instincts fed directly by his beast, which confused him even more. His mind screamed that she was the enemy, an unknown, and her dual nature made her dangerous. Maybe more than any of them knew, because no one like her had ever existed before.

And even if she proved herself an ally, rather than an enemy, as a half-breed she would still be at risk in Cornerstone.

Because of the fact that human-loup half-breeds were not fertile, the pairing was generally prohibited. In very rare instances, run Alphas could give permission for a human to be brought into a run and for a marriage to occur, but they were extremely rare and children were forbidden. Loup garou, as a species, were less than ten thousand in number across the entire country. Survival depended on procreation. In fifteen years, Father had given five of their Gray Wolves permission to marry humans, but for a Black or White Wolf, it was simply not allowed by run law.

Rogue half-breeds were an entirely different problem. Their parents were often loup who left their runs and the protection of their Alpha, and they lived outside the laws of the loup garou. Half-breeds were difficult to control, and they excelled at causing trouble with humans. They also seemed to enjoy antagonizing their full-blood kin, often to the point of violence.

The real problem with Brynn Atwood was that no one had ever encountered a loup-Magus half-breed. Her scent alone would turn heads in town. Rook understood his father’s reasons for keeping Brynn close for now, but she would never be completely safe in Cornerstone. After this, she may no longer be safe with the Magi, either, but that wasn’t his problem to worry over.

Easier said than done. She was under his skin already, and he wanted her back out.

“You might want to get a handle on your feelings, little brother,” Knight said. “Your emotions are rolling off you like a smoke signal.”

Damn Knight anyway for being a White Wolf and able to sense his emotional chaos. Rook had absolutely no reason to like Brynn—none that made logical sense—but he did. He was confused and protective and angry, and he didn’t handle those emotions well. He’d scare her off before they became friends, and maybe that was a good thing.

“If my emotions are bothering you, you don’t have to stay up here and babysit me. I’m sure your adoring fans miss you downstairs.”

“Bite me.”

“Hey, who stuck a needle in whose ass?”

“Not something I’ll ever brag about, trust me.”

“Well, thank you anyway.”

Knight blinked. “For what?”

“For listening to her and not just reacting.” Rook caught his brother’s eye and held his gaze. Knight spent so much time seeing after the emotional state of others that Rook doubted the man paid much attention to himself—and when Knight had walked into the office earlier, he’d been as close to losing control as Rook had ever seen. “I’m not sure if you realize just how pissed you were, but I know you. So thanks for keeping it together and helping us.”

“I was helping you .”

“Either way, thanks.”

“Anytime. Just try not to poison yourself anymore, okay?”

Rook grinned. “Deal.”

Waking up on the floor wasn’t the least dignified thing Brynn had ever done, but it certainly made her top ten list. Her back ached from the hard wood, made no softer by the large beach towels spread out beneath her and, for a split second, she forgot where she was and why she’d passed out in the first place.

Everything rushed back when a familiar face came into her line of sight, looking down at her from above. “Welcome back,” Rook said. He smiled like her waking was the highlight of his day, when her very presence there had caused him nothing but pain.

“Thank you.” His handsome smile filled her with warmth, and she clung to the unfamiliar feeling as she tested her limbs and found them all in working order. Her right shoulder was sore, likely from the injection she vaguely recalled receiving from Dr. Mike. She’d reacted to the toxin in her ring after all, which made no sense. Her father said they’d been using the toxin for years without any Magus suffering ill effects. What was so different about her that she’d required the antidote?

“Can you sit up?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Rook held out his hand, and Brynn took it without hesitation. He pulled gently. She maneuvered into a sitting position with only a slight twinge from her lower back. No dizziness, no nausea, no blurred vision. They were alone in the office, which was oddly silent. It took her a moment to realize the distant hum of voices was gone.

“How long was I asleep?”

“About two hours.”

“Two hours? Sweet Avesta, that’s a long time.”

“I was starting to worry, but Dr. Mike said it was normal.”

“You didn’t pass out for two hours.”