I sit on the ground in disbelief. My mate just killed a man for hurting me. “You could have told me,” he growls at me. “I can’t protect you if I don’t know.”
“Told you what?” I ask. “That you have to crawl under to avoid getting sick? I didn’t want you to come after me.”
He tilts his head like he’s trying to figure something out. “You truly don’t know?”
Prince Joseph sighs and comes to me. He kneels beside me and takes my injured arm in his. “It’s dislocated. This is going to hurt.”
I nod, but I’m not prepared for how much it will hurt. I cry out as he pulls on it, and I’m not even sure what happens after that. My arm pops, though, and the pain is instantly much better, though still very sore.
He leans forward and inhales deeply before he pushes me to my back and climbs on
