I stared at him, Kieran Valerius Hunter, the Lycan Prince, the one all the wolves bowed to, and I hated that he held all the cards. Hated that he was right. That I needed him. That my pride meant nothing now, not when Callum's blood was soaking into sterile white floors, not when Felix was barely able to stand, not when Elise's fingers was going cold.
They were dying. And it was my fault.
"I agree to your terms," I said, my voice hoarse. "One month. I'll serve you for one month"
It felt like a noose tightening around my neck, but I didn't flinch. I couldn't afford to.
Kieran's eyes glinted like polished steel, and something flickered across his face, almost a smile, but not quite. It was the look of someone who had just won a bet. Cold. Sure. Dangerous.
"Good," he said, his voice like velvet laced with poison. "Now we're getting somewhere."
