[Isolde]
I made my way to the infirmary on foot, one hand pressed firmly against my bleeding shoulder, the other swinging limply. Each step sent fresh waves of pain radiating through my upper body, but I kept moving.
I had no choice.
When I passed beneath Nikolai’s balcony, some stupid, traitorous part of me glanced up. Looking for what?
Him? Standing there? Watching me?
Some sign that he’d sensed through the mate bond that something was wrong?
He wasn’t there, of course not.
The window was shut, curtains drawn and I felt ridiculous for even checking.
Since when had I become so dependent on him? Since when had Nikolai Quinn become the person I instinctively looked for when I was hurt?
The thought unsettled me almost as much as the gunshot wound.
Technically—legally, I was still
