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“When I told him about the demon attack you were injured in, he actually threw a glass table against the wall and then demolished his office, or so Perry said.”
My head jerked back. “Seriously?”
Shadows darkened his eyes. “I’m pretty sure his anger was more for you being attacked than demons nesting in Mohan Wilds.”
“He was probably just worried about the Infernal Sol.”
Fane scoffed. “I’m sure that’s it.” Sarcasm wrapped every word that dropped from his mouth.
My cheeks burned, and I looked away. Staying with Ruin felt like a lifetime ago, and those few times we’d kissed didn’t even seem real. “Is he going to do something?”
Ruin couldn’t control the sub-demons, but the higher ones he could. He needed to remind them of the accords or punish them.
“He’ll do something.” Fane rubbed his forehead. “Logan went back to Savannah to help Ruin.”
“What about this situation with Dorian?” I absentmindedly tugged on the bandages around my hands. “Did Mina or Will wake up?”
“No, but their condition seems to be improving.”
A long silence stretched between us, and Fane’s hand settled on my thigh, his thumb rubbing circles. I reached up to twist my hair off my shoulder when a flare of pain hit me, and I winced.
Fane’s mouth tightened. “If you could shift, your injuries would heal much faster.”
“Too bad I can’t.”
“The full moon’s tonight.” He tilted his head toward the window as twilight settled in, and nighttime would soon follow. “Do you want to try?”
* * *
Fane helpedme down the stairs, clutching my hip while his other hand slipped into mine, trying not to squeeze too hard because of the stab wounds still wrapped in gauze. I’d hissed at my reflection in the bathroom a few minutes ago from all the cuts and bruises.
“Oh, you’re up.” Nora strolled into the living room from the kitchen as we descended the stairs.
“We’re going to see if Tate can shift,” Fane said.
Technically, I should be able to transform at any time, but the magic pull from the full moon might kickstart it like it was supposed to months ago.
Dylan ran into the room, a beef jerky stick hanging from one hand. “Can I go? I want to see what your wolf looks like, Tate.”
Fane ruffled his hair as we passed. “Next time, buddy. This won’t be all that fun.”
It would probably hurt more than usual with all my injuries—if it happened.
Dylan’s shoulders drooped, but he gave me a smile. “Feel better soon, Tate. For breakfast tomorrow, you want some French toast with jalapeños and that spicy syrup?”
“Definitely.”
It took a lifetime to make it to a small opening within the cover of trees where we could sit, every step agonizing. Fane gently helped me to the ground and then tilted his head back, staring at the sky.
“The moon’s rising. It shouldn’t take long.” He shucked his shirt while kicking off his boots. “It might help if I shift too.”
“’kay,” I mumbled while he unbuttoned his pants, a lazy grin pulling at my mouth.
He chuckled. “I can see you’re focused right now.”
“I am. Just not on shifting.”
His pants disappeared, and I was rewarded with the full sight of him. Fane shook his head and then rolled his neck. His shoulders curled in as the tattoos on his body shifted while his skin twitched. Fur blacker than midnight sprouted, and moments later, a beast stood before me.
