The worst part about not having a wolf is how human I feel in moments like this—fragile, queasy, too exposed. Learning that someone had plotted to have me killed for not giving in… it turned my stomach to acid.
I didn’t waste any time. I ran for the bucket, but my body had other plans. I heaved—on the floor, on Alek. The instant I did, he stood so fast his suit jacket left a small cloud of dust in the air; he stepped away, the disgust plain on his face as if I’d broken something precious.
Ryan was already moving. He didn’t flinch. He caught me, steadying my shoulders, then pressed a small bottle of antiseptic to my nose to stop the retching. Even in the middle of all this, the fact that he’d stayed close—refusing to let me fall apart alone—made something raw in me ache with gratitude.
A
