My fated mate, the man who so skillfully manipulated me, stirs at the insult to his intended. “Willow is to be the future queen. Watch your mouth, Alpha Marrock.” His tone is harsh.
“Supposed to be,” Jason snarls. “And I was talking to your father, not you. Your Majesty, please!”
“I agree with Alpha Marrock,” King Edward says, his voice uneven. “There’s no need to humiliate the girl. Take her to her room.”
“The ritual has to be completed!” the white witches protest.
“And it will be,” the king responds sharply. “But not here. And not till she recovers. She looks half dead. I do not appreciate this. Take Miss Lane to her room now!”
Someone is picking me up, but I don’t know who it is. Jason’s face swims into my vision, and I use the last bit of my strength to whisper weakly to him, “Kil
