Page 11 of Nearly Dead

“The hell they…” my father’s voice tapers off.

“You can’t be serious,” Mortimer exclaims.

Astrid pushes him out of the room and shuts the door on the men before turning to me.She pulls a shot out of her pocket.“You need a small dose.It’ll help suppress your anger.Don’t tell those two you need it.They’ll use it as an excuse to chain you up.”

Astrid jabs the shot into my thigh.I feel the cold flowing through me from the injection site.It calms me.

“I thought the wolves would be here before your father and uncle showed,” she says.“Werewolves are hot-tempered, especially without their Alpha to keep them in line.You don’t want to rile them up.I’m worried Davis and Mortimer will make things worse.”

“Why are they here?What does it mean?”I ask.

“It means,” she gives me a slight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “that supernatural politics just became even more complicated.”

She goes to a drawer and pulls out a silk robe.

“Costin should have let me die,” I tell her as she holds the sleeves so I can thread my arms inside.“It was always my fate.”

Her hard eyes snap to mine.She reaches for my face and grips it tight.I feel her fingers digging in.“You are a Devine.”

She doesn’t say more but she doesn’t have to.I feel the weight of that statement and everything it means to her.I’m no longer the mortal girl child she raised.I’m supernatural, whatever that means in my case.Her expectations for me are higher now.

She lets go and proceeds to cinch the belt around my waist.“We can’t do anything about your hair, but they’re only wolves.They won’t notice.There are slippers by the chair.”

I do as she commands, putting them on.We don’t speak as we leave the room.I watch her move in my peripheral.She’s so calm.I only remember seeing her worried once, and that was when I was supposed to be dying.She gave Costin permission to do this to me, but I don’t blame her.I blame him.He is the one who broke his promise.

The west drawing room of Costin’s underground mansion is a study in controlled tension.Three werewolves are on one side, my father and uncle on the other, with Costin between them standing on an invisible line that no one crosses.I see him trying to meet my gaze and I look away.I feel the sire bond growing and it makes it hard to be mad at him.

Magics, vampire, and werewolves stand in a room.It sounds like the start of a bad joke.Fuck, I don’t have the capacity to deal with this.I want to turn around and go back to bed.The animosity is so thick I could cut it with my newly acquired claws.I look down at my hands.They appear normal, but they feel numb.

I feel a slight tremor as I look at the wolves.They radiate a raw energy that seems to thread between us.It stirs the feral creature inside of me.

They’re dressed in biker leather and t-shirts.The clothes act almost like a badge of rebellion in the vampire master’s refined home.Out of the three, I recognize Sully.He acted as our escort the first time I ventured into the werewolves’ city territory.He is a giant mountain of a man with a beard the color of dark iron that would make Vikings jealous.It’s braided in places, like he put effort into his menacing appearance.His crossed arms and wide stance are almost regal, but the kind of royalty earned in blood, not birthright.

I can’t stop staring.His eyes glow with recognition and something else.Not deference.Not challenge.Consideration?Like he’s taking measure of the mess fate dropped in his lap.

I wonder what they want with me.

Beside him stands a woman with cropped blue hair and scars that speak of a hard life.The third is a stocky man who looks stuck in a half-shift.His elongated mouth opens to show sharp teeth.

“Tamara Devine,” the woman speaks first, her voice gravelly.“I am Rhea, first lady of Alpha Thane.”

“I’m sorry about Thane,” I say automatically, though the truth is more complicated.The Alpha tried to kill me, after all.

“Are you?”the stocky wolf growls.“His blood is in your veins, vampire-wolf.Some would say you stole his power.”

“James,” Sully warns quietly.

“One of us should be next in line,” James says to Sully, clearly not my biggest fan.“Not this?—”

“Careful,” Astrid states, her tone crisp compared to the werewolves.

“Absolutely not,” Mortimer blurts at the same time in obvious disgust.

They think I’m Thane’s potential successor?The realization takes me by surprise, and I can’t speak.

“Tamara, tell your guests they’re mistaken and send them on their way,” my father orders.He refuses to look at the wolves directly.In fact he seems to be having a hard time looking at me.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I manage, my voice steady.“Elizabeth killed Thane, not me.”

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