Betrayed Forced Mate (Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves #4)

“Byron was there?” I ask, bringing a hand to my chest, knowing I would have felt his presence if he had.

“No,” Aris says, his voice tight. “He was monitoring the mission.”

“Did you ask him to?” I ask, conflicted. On one hand, I’m lucky that he was watching, clearly, but, on the other, I want to be competent. I don’t want Aris to think I need someone watching over me for every mission I go on.

“No,” Aris says, running a hand over his face. “But he’s been pushing for a more robust tech team for a while now. I just—I didn’t think it was necessary, but maybe it is. It surely helped you out tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” I start, my voice choking. “I didn’t—”

“Woah,” Aris says, holding his hands up and stepping closer to the bedside. “What are you apologizing for? You were cursed. Nobody would have expected such a strange thing to happen. And besides, I think this comes back on me for not training you longer and pushing you out into the field. Starting this agency, I just wanted to get things rolling. But it’s important that we do things right. I won’t put you in harm’s way again.”

I bite my lip, staring down at my lap and trying to work through the conflicting emotions in my body. It’s like a mix of frustration and something lighter…like relief. I’m relieved he’s not making me go out in the field again.

Shaking my head, I take a deep breath. This is what I wanted.

“What did Byron do?” I ask, hating how my mind immediately goes to him.

“Cut the power, locked the doors, set off the sprinklers,” Aris says, shaking his head. “Bunch of stuff that seems insane to me. Apparently, he hacked into the security communications and told them there was an assassination attempt on the mayor.”

“Why would the mayor be trying to kidnap me?” I ask, rubbing a hand over my head. “Even if he’s associated with the vampires, it doesn’t make sense for him to try and take me himself. That could ruin his reputation.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Aris says, “but we’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe you should just try and rest for a while,” Rosa says, his hands still around mine. When I meet her eyes, I can see it all there—Rosa has, at least somewhat, been in this position before. Waking up from when Bigby drugged her, realizing she was hundreds of thousands of miles from home, screaming and crying, searching for her daughter.

“Yeah,” I say, “maybe.”

“I agree,” Maisie says, then to Aris, “any chance you can talk Byron into taking these?”

I watch her hand Aris a bottle of pills with curiosity—what could they be for? Rosa catches my gaze again, shaking her head, as though trying to tell me I should just rest for a moment.

“I know,” I mutter, sinking into the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. My body feels used up and spit out. Closing my eyes, I picture myself like a video game character, health bar flashing, a single health point away from death, hanging on by a threat.

***

“Heart rate and respiration are looking good,” Maisie says, sighing, “but your blood pressure is still way too low.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s not enough oxygen getting to your organs,” Maisie says, running a hand over her face. “I wish we had a full paranormal doctor here. This feels too serious for me to be handling on my own. I’m going to set up another drip—maybe you’re just dehydrated.”

“Do you think it’s from the curse?”

“It could be from the shock,” she says, sighing again and taking an I.V. bag from the cabinet. I watch as she hooks it to the pole and sticks me with the needle.

I’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m already losing it. After sleeping, my memories of being in Minneapolis came back to me, and I’ve been trying to bring up the face of the man who cursed me.

Every time I think of it, of how he muttered those words and I lost control of my body, I get angrier and angrier. Before everything happened with Rosa and we had to go into hiding, I had a friend in college who was roofied. She said the worst part was just not knowing what had happened to her own body, and now I can empathize with that better.

“I want to watch the footage,” I say, pushing my hands into the mattress and sitting up. “Can you tell Byron to send it over?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Liv,” Maisie says, shaking her head. “Your body is still going through it. I don’t want you to cause any more stress to yourself.”

“Maybe the stress is from not knowing who the fuck cursed me,” I say, twisting my hands together, “and wanting to make them pay.”

“Maybe,” Maisie says, “but not likely. I just—I’d really like to get you stabilized before you engage with any of this. Even standing up right now might be dangerous for you—you could pass out, or cause severe damage to your organs.”

“Fine, Mom,” I sigh, shaking my head and falling back into the mattress. “I won’t get up.”