Chapter 8
The morning of Lily’s surgery arrived cold and clear, with sunlight cutting through the hospital windows like polished glass.
Emily dressed Lily in the soft blue sweater she loved, even though the nurse said she would change into a gown soon. Lily wanted to feel pretty before surgery. Emily did not argue.
Nathan arrived at seven with coffee Emily did not drink and a small stuffed dolphin tucked awkwardly under one arm.
Lily’s face lit up. “For me?”
Nathan handed it over. “For the ocean trip.”
Emily looked at him.
He avoided her eyes. “She needs something to hold.”
Lily hugged the dolphin. “What’s its name?”
Nathan looked trapped.
Emily smiled. “Don’t ask him. He names things like a tax form.”
Lily giggled. Nathan’s mouth twitched.
“Blue,” he said.
“That’s a terrible name,” Lily said, delighted.
“It’s accurate.”
Emily laughed before she could stop herself.
For one fragile moment, the three of them looked like something ordinary. A woman, a child, a man standing too stiffly in a hospital room, all pretending fear was not waiting outside the door.
Then the nurse came.
Lily’s smile faded.
Emily bent down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right outside when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Lily looked at Nathan. “You too?”
Nathan’s face changed. The council meeting began in two hours. If he missed it, Warren could take everything. If he stayed, his enemies might destroy what was left of his world.
He crouched beside the bed.
“I’ll come back,” he said. “No matter what.”
Lily studied him with the seriousness only children can summon. Then she nodded.
After they wheeled her away, Emily stood motionless in the hallway.
Nathan stood beside her.
“You have to go,” she said.
He looked at the operating room doors.
“Nathan.”
“I know.”
“If Warren wins, Lily and I won’t be safe anyway. Everything we did will mean nothing.”
He turned to her. “And if something happens here?”
“You put your men in place.”
“That’s not the same as me being here.”
“No,” she said softly. “It isn’t.”
The honesty hurt.
Emily took his hand. It was the first time she had done that without emergency, without fear, without needing to pull him somewhere. Just contact. Human and trembling.
“This is my battlefield,” she said. “That one is yours.”
Nathan looked down at their hands.
For a man feared by half the city, he seemed suddenly uncertain.
Then he squeezed her fingers once.
“I will come back.”
He left.
Emily sat on the bench beneath the red surgery light and began the longest wait of her life.
Ninety minutes later, Warren Vale walked into the hospital.
He did not come loudly. Men like Warren never did. He appeared in a gray overcoat with three men behind him, calm enough to fool anyone who did not know what wolves looked like when dressed as gentlemen.
He sat beside Emily.
“Miss Harper.”
She did not look at him. “Leave.”
“I wanted to congratulate you,” he said. “You became important after all.”
Emily’s hands curled into fists.
Warren sighed. “I gave you a merciful offer. You chose a dying king.”
“He’s not dying.”
“No. But he is late.” Warren smiled. “And men like Nathan Cole do not survive being late.”
Emily’s stomach turned.
“He went to the council.”
“Did he?” Warren leaned closer. “Then who do you think I have waiting on the road?”
Emily looked at him.
That was when one of Warren’s men moved toward the operating room doors.
Emily stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“Don’t.”
May you like
Warren’s eyes cooled. “Sit down.”
Two men appeared at the end of the hall.
