Page 162 of Their Rejected Queen

That’s evident by the dark tips on the ends of all of my fingers. I stare at them, noting that I’m chilled, but my hands still function fine.

Something is wrong, though. Very wrong.

A darkness swarms inside my chest and feels like cold iron pressing against my sternum. Rubbing my palm against it, I can’t seem to stem the ache. Then my fingers travel up my throat, coaxing my muscles to cooperate.

He knows who I am.

This is all a game to him.

He’s done something to me.

What are we going to do?

I stare at Godric, wondering if this is how Ze’ev feels when he has so much to say and nothing comes out. My temperature spikes as the ice inside my chest seems to get worse. All I can muster is a pitiful whimper.

He frowns and presses the back of his hand to my cheek. “You’re feverish, but you’re not nesting or acting like you’re in heat. The black on your fingers only appeared yesterday, too, and the nurse couldn’t explain it. She said all your vitals were normal outside of an elevated heart rate.”

He recites the medical review as if I hadn’t heard it, or maybe to comfort himself. No medical review is going to find what King Njord did to me, but I can’t exactly tell him as much.

“Are you sick?” he asks. “I know that happens to humans sometimes.”

I shake my head.

Growing up in the Magic Sector meant I rarely got sick, but I don’t have a voice to tell Godric that.

Either King Njord is silencing me, or it’s something else happening that I don’t understand.

I could see this having something to do with the king, though. He probably doesn’t want my mates doing anything stupid, like trying to steal me away now that I’ve been officially nominated.

Why did Arwan do that, anyway?

I’m glad he did, though, only because I know I can’t leave without my sister.

And I also can’t leave without them.

Burying my head in my hands, I try to ignore Godric’s hovering presence. It’s a good thing I can’t talk, because he wouldn’t like anything I have to say.

The door opens, and I peek through the cage of my fingers to find Arwan. He glances back the way he came before shutting the door behind him.

Given that I’ve been placed in a treatment room inside the tower, there have been a few visitors, and not all of them have been pack members. He has good reason to be cautious, but it’s unlike him. Arwan usually does whatever he wants.

Which means he’s not supposed to be here.

“They’re doing the evaluation today,” Arwan says, as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

The bed dips as he sits next to me and peels my fingers from my face. He frowns as he examines them.

“You have a death wish being here,” Godric growls.

We both look up, and my eyes widen at the pissed-off Alpha. His eyes have a glowing golden band encasing his irises, and the veins stand out on the sides of his neck.

“I came as soon as I could,” Arwan protests, but goes silent when Godric snarls and grips him around his throat.

“You should have stayed away after the shit you pulled.”

I stop him and hold on to his wrist, making both males freeze.

For the first time in days, warmth rolls through my extremities, and my fingers tingle.