Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Emily’s eyes flicked to his. The firelight reflected in their dark depths, giving them a glint that hinted at secrets he hadn’t begun to guess. The air thickened again. She seemed to weigh the cost of the words before she gave them.
“I’m not dragging you into this.” A tremor ran through her voice.
“You already have,” he replied. “Start talking.” He kept his gaze steady. “Emily,” he said, tone low and calm.
She sighed like a teenager caught sneaking out past curfew and turned back to him. “All right, fine. First, thanks for saving my life.”
“Was that given grudgingly?” he asked, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch. Amusement stirred beneath his ribs, but now wasn’t the time to ease the tension. Instead, he raised an eyebrow.
Her arms crossed over the blanket, drawing his gaze. The sight of her wrapped in Erik Volk’s shirt stirred a low growl inside him. It was none of his business whose clothing she wore. Still, it sat wrong. He waited.
She rolled her eyes so hard he half-expected them to disappear into her skull. “Fine. You deserve the truth.”
“I believe so.”
“I…” She exhaled, her shoulders dropping. “The females in my maternal line have died young from an illness nobody’s been able to identify.”
Alarm spread through Jackson, though he kept his posture relaxed as he leaned back in the chair. Deceptively calm.
She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t been feeling well for more than a month now, and I’m getting weaker. Our doctor doesn’t know how to help me, so I talked to yours. And Luna. Well, you know she’s kind of a mad scientist.”
Jackson had heard the rumors. He just hadn’t paid much attention. “They think they know what’s wrong with you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I managed to get blood samples from my dad, Nadia, and…” She winced. “Victor.”
His brows lifted. “Victor gave you blood to test?”
“Not exactly.”
He waited.
Her hands twisted the blanket’s edge. “I had to punch him in the nose.”
Jackson barked out a laugh before he could stop it. “You punched him in the nose?”
“Yeah. And then I used one of those doilies to gather the blood.”
His laughter echoed through the cabin. The tension in the air cracked, if only slightly. But her confession still pressed between them, heavy and unspoken. His smile faded as quickly as it had come.
“Emily.” His tone softened.
Her eyes found his again, shadows lingering there. He wanted to reach across the space between them, but not yet. First, he needed the whole truth. All of it.
Wait a minute. “Not your mom’s doilies?”
“Oh, no. Definitely not one of hers.”
Why had his mind even gone there? He really was losing it around this female. “You hit Vic, and he didn’t hit you back?” If he had, Jackson would tear the bastard apart.
“No, he just kind of whined that I broke his nose.” She shrugged as if it were nothing.
“Well, score one for Victor,” Jackson muttered. He had to give the guy props for not retaliating, although Philip’s presence had probably kept the situation from escalating. “If I have to take him out for you, I will.”
“I don’t like that idea.” Emily turned back to the fire. Its steady crackle and warmth lent the cabin a sense of calm.
Jackson stretched out his legs, his shoulders sinking deeper into the chair. At least now he knew the truth. Or part of it. “Tell me more about this illness.”
“Weakness in the legs, difficulty shifting, losing energy. She straightened the blanket.
“Your mother was older than you when it hit her, right?”
Emily nodded. The color drained from her face until even her lips looked pale. “Yes. And her mother was older still. But it seems to be hitting us younger with every generation.”
“They both died from it?” Jackson asked, his voice rougher than intended.
“Yes.” Her fingers stilled against the blanket. “There’s not much I can do about it.”
Finally, some of this made sense. “Is that why you didn’t want to be Alpha? Because you can’t be?”
“That’s one of the reasons,” she admitted. “Can you imagine the number of challengers I’d face?”
Jackson had stepped up at fifteen, and even with the council backing him, challenges had come fast and hard. He’d been brutal back then, taking down his first two challengers without hesitation or mercy. After that, nobody had dared to try again.
Looking at Emily now, he realized she wasn’t built that way. Mercy lived deep in her bones. That classy kindness had always drawn him, even from a distance. But in an Alpha challenge, kindness wouldn’t cut it.
“It’s a good thing your father is still healthy,” Jackson said. “Your father and I reached an agreement, but you do have a say.”
Emily’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, do I? What agreement? I told you I’m not sending one of my kids to fight to the death.”