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She was Jonas’s mate. Cabal had known it the moment he met her, and he was sure Jonas knew it as well.
“Ely’s certain she’s going to be okay,” Cabal stated, though he didn’t really believe it. He’d always feared that fate would steal her from him. Now he was terrified he had been right.
“Ely knows what she’s doing,” Jonas said quietly. “Watts has been transferred back to the Middle East. We’ll be questioning him next week in regards to the remaining members of the Deadly Dozen, as well as Azrael’s child. If we can find the child, then we’ll find the father.”
Cabal growled at the thought of the Lion Breed that he blamed for Cassa’s injuries. If Azrael hadn’t kidnapped her, hadn’t decided that she could be traded for the information he wanted, then she wouldn’t be in surgery now.
“I’ll kill him for this, Jonas. He had no right to involve her this way.”
Rachel spoke up then. “She’s not a doll. You won’t put her on a shelf and dictate how she can or cannot live. If you do, Cabal, you’ll lose her.”
He glared at her, noticing absently how Jonas moved to block sight of her with his own body.
Hell, he knew better than to growl at her. She might not realize it, but Jonas was like a damn dog with a bone when it came to his little secretary.
“I don’t need any advice at this point,” he warned her instead, when he knew that what he might need was a miracle.
He hadn’t protected his mate.
He hung his head, refusing to look at either of them further. He couldn’t look at them. He had failed his mate, and that was even worse than failing his pride and his family.
“We know Azrael is alive now,” Jonas finally stated. “We need him alive.”
Sucked to be Jonas.
“You need everyone alive,” Cabal said. “You just like killing them yourself.”
“There is that,” Jonas agreed. “But we won’t have to worry about a funeral for anyone anytime soon. If Ely says Cassa will be fine, then she will be just that.”
Cabal clasped his hands between his knees, his grip tight. He prayed. As he had never prayed in his life, he prayed that Cassa survived.
He rubbed his hands over his face, still feeling the sensitivity of the marks across it. He hadn’t lost the stripes. Rage was still burning inside him; fear was still a metallic taste in his mouth.
As he lifted his head to glance back at Jonas, the door swung open and Ely stepped through. Her face was somber, but it always was now. Her eyes were dark and almost emotionless. That too was normal for her lately.
“She’s doing well.” She was wiping her hands. Cassa’s blood still stained the front of her surgical gown. “We had a few tense moments during surgery, but it appears the bullet didn’t do any lasting damage. Entered and exited through her right side. A few weeks’ recuperation and she’ll be . . .”
Cabal didn’t hear the rest of it. He pushed past her and followed the scent of his mate to the recovery room, set deep beneath the estate house that served as the main base of Feline Breed affairs.
He stepped quietly into the curtained-off room and stood by the bed that held his mate.
She was pale. Her hair was streaked with blood. A light sheet was pulled up over her bare breasts and the mating mark he had given her was clearly displayed on her shoulder.
Cabal reached out, his finger barely glancing it.
“You have stripes.” Her weak voice drew his attention as her hand tried to lift, only to falter and fall back to the bed.
He knew what she wanted. She had been fascinated with the stripes on his hips and thighs. These on his face would be no different.
He lifted her hand to them as he slowly sat down on the small stool next to the bed.
“These will be gone soon,” he said quietly. “It won’t be long now.”
She smiled as her lashes drifted closed, then opened once again.
“Ely pulled me through, huh?” There was an edge of wariness in her voice. “Everything is okay?”
“Everything is okay.” He turned her palm into his kiss. “You’re okay.”
