Chapter 4

Mara's POV

Ronan Vale became much less polite after someone tried to put a silver bolt through my head. I preferred him that way. Polite men had spent years feeding me poison with reassuring smiles.

"Sit," he ordered as Maeve pushed open the infirmary door.

I looked at him. "Was that an Alpha command?" His expression darkened.

"No. It was a man who has already watched you fall twice asking you not to make it three."

"Then say please."

Tamsin made a choking sound behind him. Ronan stared at me for a long second.

"Please sit down, Mara."

"See? Civilization."

Maeve, a silver-haired woman with the shoulders of a retired fighter, pointed at the examination table.

"Sit before I break your other ankle myself."

I sat before Maeve could make good on the threat.

"I like her," I told Ronan.

"Everyone does until she has a needle."

Maeve cut away the wet fabric around my ankle and made an irritated noise.

"This trap is supposed to mark trespassers, not skin them."

"She crossed at full speed," Ronan said.

"Because men were chasing me with a severance blade."

Maeve's hands went still against the bandage.

"A what?"

I explained the ceremony, Gideon's command, the broken oath chain, and Vivian's visit to the cell. I did not intend to tell the whole story, but somehow I did it anyway. Maeve's face hardened when I reached the medicine.

"Describe the taste."

"Bitter. Metallic afterward. It made my tongue numb if I drank it too quickly."

"Color?"

"Brown. Vivian added honey in winter."

Maeve exchanged a grim look with Ronan.

"Moonroot and silverbind."

"Vivian admitted it."

"How long?"

"Six years that I knew about. She said my father started it earlier."

Maeve muttered an oath. Ronan crossed his arms. "What does that combination do?" Maeve cleaned the cut on my ankle before answering.

"Moonroot suppresses a wolf's ability to surface. Silverbind weakens the neural response between wolf and human. Used for a few days, they can stop a dangerous shift. Used for years..."

Her expression changed when she looked at me.

"Used for years, what?"

"They can disrupt cycles, damage scent recognition, lower body temperature, weaken healing, and cause infertility."

The last word emptied the room. I heard myself ask, "Temporary?" Maeve's expression softened.

"Sometimes. We would need tests."

"But it can be caused by the drugs."

"Yes."

I looked down at my hands. There had been years when I could not walk through the nursery wing without pretending I needed to be somewhere else. Years of avoiding mothers who meant well when they told me to keep hoping. Six specialists. Three procedures. So many nights Gideon had held me while I cried.

He had known. The thought was too large to fit inside anger.

"Mara."

Ronan's voice was quieter now. I looked up.

"Don't."

He nodded once without offering pity, and I was grateful for that. Maeve tied a clean bandage around my ankle.

"I need blood."

"Take it."

"I also need to know when you last shifted."

"I was twenty-four. A few months after I mated Gideon."

Maeve's brows rose. "Twelve years?"

"The healers said stress could make a wolf withdraw. Then the fertility treatments started."

"And your wolf never spoke to you?"

I thought of the freezing river. Swim.

"Last night she did."

Ronan uncrossed his arms and stepped closer.

"What did she say?"

"Swim. Twice. Very eloquent."

Maeve's expression remained completely serious.

"Any pain now? Heat? Pressure behind the eyes?"

"My skin feels too tight."

"That matters."

She took three vials of blood. Ronan's gaze stayed on me.

"Someone shot at you with Black Hollow arrows."

"I noticed."

"There is one person in my lower cells who may understand the command failure," Ronan said. "Soren Kade. Former Concord archivist."

"You imprison archivists?"

"Only the ones who steal sealed bloodline records and then refuse to explain why."

"That feels like information you could have led with."

"I was busy keeping a bolt out of your skull."

"Only six people had access to that tower today."

"Then your suspect list is better than mine."

"One of them escorted the Ironwood courier," Ronan said.

I met his eyes. "You think Gideon has someone inside your keep."

"I think somebody wants you dead before the Concord can question you."

"That sounds like progress."

"Your standards are concerning."

The infirmary door opened. A young guard stepped in carrying a folded cloak and boots.

"Warden, the courier is demanding an answer."

"He can keep demanding."

The guard nodded, then looked at me. His expression changed. Recognition. Fear. My skin prickled. Ronan noticed too.

"You know her?"

"No, Warden."

The answer came too quickly. The young man's eyes lowered. Power entered Ronan's voice.

"Look at me."

The guard's chin lifted immediately. Ronan stepped closer to him.

"Did you fire the bolt?"

"No."

"Did you help anyone enter the west tower?"

"No."

"Did you speak to the Ironwood courier?"

The guard's jaw clenched against the command.

"Answer."

"Yes."

Tamsin hissed a curse from the doorway. Ronan's eyes went cold. "About what?" The guard's face strained against the command.

"He asked... whether the woman was alive."

My stomach tightened at the implication.

"What did you tell him?"

"That she was in the border office."

"And after that?"

"Nothing. I swear."

Ronan released the command. The guard sagged.

"Take him downstairs," Ronan told Tamsin. "No one speaks to him without me."

The young man panicked. "Warden, I didn't shoot her!"

"Then you have nothing to fear from questions."

Tamsin led him out. I looked at Ronan. "You enjoy that power." His eyes returned to me.

"Less than I used to."

Maeve returned with one of the blood vials. She had added a clear reagent. Dark silver threads twisted through the red. Her face changed.

"How much silverbind were they giving you?"

"One cup every night. Two during treatment weeks."

"For six years?"

"Yes."

Maeve put the vial down too carefully.

"Your blood should still be saturated."

Ronan's posture sharpened. "It isn't?"

"No. Her body is clearing it at a rate I have never seen."

A wave of heat rolled beneath my skin. I gripped the edge of the table.

"Maeve."

She looked at my hand. My nails were lengthening. Claws pushed from my fingertips and cut grooves into the wood. I gasped as pain shot through both arms. Ronan moved toward me.

"Don't touch me."

He stopped immediately. The pressure behind my eyes became unbearable. A growl rose from my throat. Not mine. Maeve backed toward the cabinet. "Mara, listen to me. Do not fight her."

"I don't know how not to."

"Then talk to her."

"She hasn't exactly been conversational."

The voice came from inside me, clearer than before.

Finally

My breath caught. "She spoke."

Silver flashed through Ronan's eyes.

"What did she say?"

Heat burned down my spine. I looked at my clawed hand buried half an inch into an iron examination rail.

"She said, 'Finally.'"

Maeve stared at the bent metal. Then she looked at Ronan.

"That is not a wolf waking normally."