Chapter 7: The Cost

On the third night I put my hands on Corinne and the room tilted sideways.

The silver light went out of me in a long pull, and I did not feel Jonah catch me.

I woke with my cheek against a wool coat that smelled of woodsmoke and cold air.

He was carrying me down the hall, and he was not going toward the barn.

"Put me down," I said, and my voice came out thin.

"You blacked out for six minutes."

"The cage is the other way."

"It's the end of October and the barn has no stove. You'd be dead by morning, and my sister needs you alive."

"That's the only reason?"

"It's the only one I'm giving you."

He pushed open a door with his shoulder and set me down on a bed.

It was a big plain bed with a dark blanket and a window that looked out over the lake.

His room.

The healer had wrapped linen under my cuffs that afternoon, and he sat on the edge of the mattress and checked that it was still in place.

His hands were careful.

They were warm and rough, and when his thumb crossed the inside of my wrist, the burn went quiet.

"This is against my rules," I said.

"My rules," he said. "I don't break them."

"You said I'd sleep in the cage."

"Tonight I'm breaking one."

He moved to stand.

I caught his sleeve with my chained hands.

I do not know which of us was more surprised.

He looked down at my fingers and then at my face, and I watched his eyes go dark and slow.

"Ivy," he said. "I don't touch prisoners."

"You've touched me all night."

"To carry you."

"And a minute ago, to check my wrist."

"That was the chain."

"Was it?"

My wolf was awake, and she was loud.

She had been loud since the barn, and every time his hand had closed on my elbow in Corinne's room she had pushed at my skin.

I was tired of pretending it was only the hate.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me for something I didn't do," I said. "I'm asking you to stay."

"You hate me."

"I do," I said. "I hated you the whole walk through my gate."

His breath caught, short and hard.

"Then why?"

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