Chapter 5

Shawn's sudden appearance catches me off guard. I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off, his voice like a winter wind.

"One night in the lake, and you're throwing a tantrum?" His expression is cold, detached. "You've been punished. Let's move on."

He's so sure I'm head-over-heels for him, just acting out. I part my lips, but no words come.

Seeing my silence, his tone softens slightly. "I'm here because you and Quinn both took a dunk. I've got some time off, so I'm taking you to the hot springs villa outside the pack to recover."

I don't want to go, but before I can refuse, he's already barking orders to the servants. "Pack their things. We leave now."

The villa sits halfway up a misty mountain, the views breathtaking. Shawn personally shows us to our rooms.

Quinn's is south-facing, bright and spacious, decked out to her tastes—crabapple blooms in a jade vase, silk bedding, even her favorite orchid incense. Mine? Clean, sure, but thrown together last-minute, dust still clinging to the window frames.

A maid brings two bowls of medicinal broth. "Shawn says you both have lingering chills. Drink this, then soak in the springs for the best effect."

Quinn takes one sip and wrinkles her nose. "So bitter…"

Shawn chuckles, taking her bowl. "I've got a trick for that."

"What trick?" she asks, curious.

He takes a swig, then leans in, passing the broth to her lips with his own.

"Still bitter?" His voice is low, teasing.

Quinn's face flushes, and she buries herself in his chest, shy. Shawn laughs, pinching her earlobe. "You'll be my mate soon, and this makes you blush? What'll you do on our binding night, huh?"

I watch, calm as still water, and down my bowl in one go. The bitter liquid burns my throat, reminding me of my last life—sick, alone, forcing down medicine like this with no one to care.

After I took that blade for Diana, my body never recovered. I'd choke down bitter herbs, struggling, but whenever Shawn visited, he never showed a flicker of concern.

I thought he was just cold by nature. Turns out, he just didn't care.

The hot springs steam under a canopy of mist, a rock formation splitting the pool in two. Quinn and I soak in the she-wolf pool, Shawn in the wolf pool next door, his silhouette faintly visible through the gaps.

"This water's amazing, Shawn!" Quinn's voice is bright, playful.

"Like it? I'll bring you back often," he replies, warm as a summer breeze.

Their back-and-forth is so intimate, it's like I'm not even here. I lean against the pool's edge, eyes closed, pretending I'm invisible.

Then Quinn shrieks. "Help! A snake bit me!"

Before I can react, pain sears my calf. I look down—Quinn's flailing sent a green snake my way, and now two bloody puncture marks mar my leg.

Chaos erupts.

Shawn storms in, grabs the snake by its neck, and flings it away. "Get the healer!" he bellows.

He scoops Quinn up, leaning down to suck the venom from her wound.

"Shawn, no!" a servant cries. "You're too valuable to risk that! Let us do it!"

"Back off!" he snaps. "Quinn's my mate. No one touches her."

He works frantically, spitting out venom, then glances at me, my face already paling. "You lot," he says, pointing at two guards, "suck the venom from Leah."