Page 114 of A Sin So Pure

My lashes flutter open, and I wince, the already dim lighting in the room too much for my pounding head. I scan the dark wood frame and silk sheets, realizing that I’m in Nora’s bedroom.

Someone shifts at my side, a rustling of cotton as they lean forward in the chair that’s been pulled close to the bed.

My muscles ache, chills skitter over my skin, and my head throbs with every beat of my pulse.

“You’re awake,” Josie says, almost shocked. “How are you feeling?”

I turn my head, my cheek resting against the pillow. Josie’s sporting a nasty bruise under one eye and a split lip, but otherwise she is unscathed.

“Like I could use a fucking drink,” I huff.

Josie’s head tilts to the ceiling. She rubs her weary eyes with an exasperated smile.

“I will get you a million drinks. But only after the doc clears you.”

I try to sit up, but wince at a sharp ache in my side. Josie helps me into a sitting position with careful hands, and I realize I’m in a set of oversized button-up pajamas. Running my hand across my stomach, my fingers don’t brush over any bandages, though there are some wrapped around my palms and one on my forehead. I tug up the shirt, revealing the pale expanse of my stomach, completely devoid of any wound or scar.

“What the hell happened?” I ask, pulling my shirt back down. “And please tell me you were the one to dress me.”

Josie scoots the chair closer. “Wes got you the tonic fast enough, but you had already lost a lot of blood. It didn’t heal everything, only the worst of it. You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” she says. “And yes, I was the one to change you. I gave you a spare set from my closet. I hope you don’t mind.”

My lips twist as I finger the soft striped cotton. “You wear men’s pajamas?”

“They’re more comfortable.”

“I prefer silk to cotton,” I say, pulling pink to Josie’s cheeks.

“I can go to your apartment and pack you some of your clothes if you want,” she offers. “Doc said you should stay on bed rest for a few days. Even if you look healed, your body needs time to recover.”

I nod, looking down at my lap. Worrying my lip, I twist the extra fabric of the pajama sleeves around my fisted hand.

I don’t know what it is about the texture of the cotton on my palm, but it makes me all too cognizant of the way it rubs against my body. I’m suddenly acutely aware of how heavy the sheets are and how clammy they are making my feet—of how my heart is beating too fast in my chest and how each one of my breaths doesn’t fill my lungs as they should.

“Um, Josie?” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Why did this happen?” I ask. My throat constricts, emotion welling at the underside of my jaw as I try, with all my might, to hold back the impending spiral creeping on. “Why would someone attack us like that? I know the Seelie don’t like us, and I know House Pride is having issues with the exiles but?—”

“This isn’t the exiles, Imogen,” Josie says, a serious expression shuttering her expression. “This is Patience.Heis why. He’s tormenting Nora.”

“But why?” I ask. “Because he killed her parents and she got away? She was achild.” A frantic need to understand rolls over me. “Because she tried to buy tonics off the exiles? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Sometimes life doesn’t make sense,” Josie murmurs and I scoff.

Anger bubbles in my stomach, a churning boil at the unanswered questions.

I am Lust of the Unseelie;I’mthe holder of people’s secrets.I’mthe one who should know all the answers. But right now, I feel like I’ve been given a test without having been taught the material. I’m trying to reason out my responses with only context clues.

My shoulders sag, that anger in my stomach overcome with self-doubt.

No, I’m barely a House leader, struggling like I am. I’ve known as much for a long while.

I never should havebeenLust. Isn’t that why I’m already half-way out the door? Handing over more responsibility to Leo with each day that passes?

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