Page 126 of Elven Crown

If the urge came over him, he might blab to anyone who would listen. He could let slip all about Rebecca and who she’d been. Who he still seemed to think she was. Who they’d once been to each other…

Worst of all, if that happened, she wouldn’t be there this time to shut him up before he ruined everything.

She and Maxwell had only made it halfway to the infirmary when Rebecca realized that what she wanted was to reject the shifter’s help, heal herself, and go right back to the training gym.

To keep her eye on Rowan and make doubly certain he didn’t decimate her life here because he felt like being brutally honest with everyone else on a whim.

But she couldn’t. Maxwell would never let her go, short of seeing exactly what her Bloodshadow magic could do and how capable she was of healing herself without assistance.

Then everything would change between them.

Her only safe choice was to let the shifter help her to the infirmary, because that was the only solution he would believe.

When they turned down the final hallway in the residential wing, a new realization hit Rebecca and filled her with a gut-churning horror that had nothing to do with the wooden shrapnel in her belly.

In trying so hard to keep her secrets, she’d backed herself into another corner. And this one would be even more impossible to get out of now.

Maxwell believed sheneededhis help. After today, he would never let her live this down.

He would remind her of today’s near-lethal accident every chance he got—that she wasn’t invincible, that she couldn’t keep running blindly into any and every danger because look what had happened in the assumed safety of Shade’s own training gym.

He would insist every step of the way that his constant presence beside her, under the guise of necessary protection, was their only option from here on out for keeping the Thon-Da’al safe.

She could let him think he’d helped her all he wanted, but after today, she would never get another moment of privacy, of being alone without a protective detail, for as long as she remained Shade’s Commander.

After today, anything short of telling Maxwell the truth wouldn’t change his renewed efforts to double down on her constant protection. He wouldneverleave her side…

Rowan justhadto play with the big guns, didn’t he? Now everything would be different.

Rebecca’s head spun. Not the way it did under chaotic pressure or when she tried to solve some incomprehensible mystery. This was the detached, woozy, cold spinning that came with physical ailment and blood loss and a serious need for recovery.

By the time Maxwell finally led her to the door of Zida’s infirmary, she’d already lost so much blood, her vision had blurred. If he’d released his hold on her now, she would have crumpled to the floor.

Forget about the fact that she could do nothing to stop her teeth from chattering madly in her head like he’d just pulled her out of a sub-zero blizzard.

This wasn’t good at all.

When he stopped at Zida’s door to knock and shout for the healer, Rebecca chanced a quick look down at her belly.

The wooden skewer was still there. No surprise.

But she hadn’t realized her entire shirt and much of the top of her pants were already soaked in blood, which had somehow gotten on her hands too and since dried.

Then her gaze fell to the floor, and a stronger wave of cold shot through her—half in physical weakness, half in fear.

The hallway’s tile floor was smeared with her blood too, leading behind them in a long, glistening, slippery trail all the way back to the training gym.

If she didn’t get the help she needed soon—short of Maxwell disappearing into thin air so she could heal herself with no one around to watch—Rebecca realized she might die from blood loss.

That was a first.

The shifter pounded on the door again, and Zida’s shout finally greeted them from the other side. “Open up!”

When he twisted the doorknob for the third or fourth time to confirm it was locked, the precarious balance of their combined weight shifted just enough to make Rebecca wobble and drop forward, unable to catch herself on her own.

“Whoa, hey.” Maxwell caught her as gently as possible, then returned the strong, stable support of her arm slung around his shoulders. “I’ve got you. You’re almost there. Just stay with me. Knox? No, no. Eyes open. Stay with me. Zida!”

More pounding on the door, but now it sounded much farther away than it should have.

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