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on the bed.

“It’s not okay!” he growled. “You could be dying!” He gripped the sheets, his jaw ticking in anger.

I gave him a lazy smirk. “You think a little poison is going to take me out? Pfft. As if,” I mumbled. “When I die, I’m going out like a badass. Remember that,” I teased sleepily.

“This isn’t the time to joke, Mackenzie.”

“Who said I’m joking?”

If there was one thing I was sure about, it was that I wouldn’t die like this. No way. I refused. I was stubborn enough to defy death if I had to, but this wasn’t the death I’d be getting. Ophelia said I would face death many times; well, I supposed she wasn’t wrong. Now my job was to push through and not give up. If I was the tether to whatever prophecy she alluded to, so be it, but I had to be alive for it to happen. And I planned to live.

Bash walked to the bathroom, filled a bowl with cold water, and grabbed a washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he dipped the washcloth in the bowl and squeezed out the excess water before placing the damp cloth on my forehead. In seconds, I felt an inkling of relief. Refreshing my cloth every few minutes, he kept at it until Ranulf returned thirty minutes later with the doctor in tow.

I belatedly realized I was probably not appropriately dressed as Head of State. I was still wearing my slacks from yesterday and my shirt was in a crumpled heap on the floor, leaving me with just a bra to cover my top half, but I was so out of it, I didn’t really care. No one else seemed to, either.

“Seems you’re not feeling well, huh?” Dr. Harris approached my side of the bed with a kind smile.

“Nope,” I mumbled. “I think it’s poison.”

“Poison?!” Ranulf exclaimed.

Bash clamped a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “It’s just a running theory since she got ill right after her fight with Fenrir. It’s possible his claws were laced with something.”

Ranulf ran a hand through his dark hair and I saw the worry lines on his forehead deepen. He seemed to be aging before my eyes.

Dr. Harris put on his stethoscope and placed the frigid disk on my chest so he could listen to my breathing just as the bedroom door burst open and Alexander stormed in.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” he demanded, worry clear in his gray eyes.

“I don’t know just yet,” Dr. Harris answered as he motioned for me to sit up.

Bash placed an arm around my back to help support me since I lacked the strength to do it on my own. The doc placed the stethoscope on my back, now marginally warmed by my skin, and listened for several long seconds, asking me to breathe deeply in and out. He gestured for me to lay back down and produced a pencil flashlight to check my eyes. As soon as the light hit my eyes, I couldn’t stop the reflex that caused me to flash my silver eyes at him. I jerked back, embarrassed.

Dr. Harris chuckled. “It’s okay; it’s completely normal to react that way.”

“Oh,” was all I could say as I watched him reach into his black medical bag and pull out a couple of shiny pieces of equipment to check my blood pressure and temperature. The entire experience felt very … human.

When he was done checking my vitals, he stowed everything back in his bag and stood up with a sigh. “Well, I’ll start by stating the obvious. Even for a Lycan, you’re running exceedingly hot. But what concerns me most is your low blood pressure. I want to run some blood work. If you’ve been poisoned, we’ll be able to find out what kind from the blood test. I’ll have our resident warlock, Tavish run them so it’s faster and we won’t have to wait.”

“Good,” Alexander said. “Do it.”

I was about to nod in agreement when I realized something. “No,” I croaked. “You can’t take my blood.”

Everyone turned to look at me with varying expressions ranging from disbelief to curiosity. I ignored them all and stared directly at Dr. Harris.

“Your Majesty, if you want to get better, we must—”

“Figure out another way, but no blood draw,” I announced, my voice steadier.

I didn’t know whether I was doing the right thing or not, but all I could think about was that night in Central Park when I met with Angus. Nothing was ever free with the fae, and he requested a sample of my blood to repay my debt for the favors I requested. We were both surprised when he found fae magic in my blood. Angus told me to keep it a secret, which I’d done to this day. Bash didn’t even know.

I didn’t know why I had fae magic in my blood when I didn’t have any fae powers, but more than that, I didn’t know why it needed to be kept a secret from the people closest to me. Even so, right now I wasn’t in the mood for anyone to find out. I had enough to worry about. If they took a blood sample and it went to a warlock, my secret could be exposed. I didn’t know how all this intrigue worked, but I didn’t want to take the risk.

“Mackenzie, don be difficult,” Alexander reprimanded. “We don know what’s wrong with ye!”

Dr. Harris cleared his throat. “There’s a simpler way to find out if you’ve been poisoned, but I still want to run other tests that I need your blood for. I don’t think it’s poison. Your blood pressure is what concerns me, Your Majesty.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from everyone. “Find another way,” I insisted stubbornly.

“Are ye afraid of needles?” Ranulf asked.

I wanted to roll my eyes but somehow managed to refrain. “Something like that,” I whispered. I wasn’t afraid of needles; I was afraid of the truth.

“Damnit, Mackenzie!”

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