"Grant!" Delilah stumbled into the study, her face pale as death. "Why haven't you come to see me?"
He caught her outstretched hand, his voice flat. "I'm dealing with pack business."
"Liar!" she shrieked, sweeping the desk's papers to the floor. Ink splattered across the Border Soldiers' Relief Policy, soaking my careful handwriting.
Grant shot to his feet. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Yes, I have!" Tears streamed down her face. "Ever since she left, you don't even see me anymore!"
She yanked open her collar, revealing a jagged scar below her collarbone. "The arrow I took for you three years ago—does it mean nothing now?"
Grant's eyes widened. That arrow, meant for him, had struck her instead. "I haven't forgotten," he said hoarsely. "But that's not the point—"
Delilah wiped her tear
