Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Isn’t that a question you should ask my doctor?” I batted my lashes at him.
“Probably. But I asked you.”
Honestly? “I’m fine.” Mostly. “How about you? What happened?” I motioned to his wound. “You’re bleeding.”
He hiked his shoulders, unconcerned. “I hit a door on my way here.”
“No, really. What happened?” I asked. His lips pursed, and I barked out a laugh. How unlike the always-observant HP. I wonder what had distracted him. “Who won the competition?”
“Who do you think?” His dry tone told me all I needed to know.
“Roman.” Of course.
“It came down to him and Titus. Roman reached the cubby first but offered it to Titus in exchange for a truce. Titus refused.” Satisfaction flashed over the HP’s features as he admitted, “Jericho is the one who hit you, and he lost the round after yours.”
I didn’t like Jericho, but I couldn’t blame him for the hit. Who knew how many soldiers I’d injured during the game.
Dr. Korey entered, smiling when she spotted the HP. She opened her mouth to speak.
“I require time alone with the patient,” he announced before she uttered a word, never glancing up.
She paused, clearly startled by the statement. “I’m your doctor, not some random medic.” Determined, she crossed to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he stiffened but continued reading, she reached for his face. “Let me tend to—”
He jerked from her touch and scowled, giving her the briefest glare. “Go.”
Hmm. Rumors about his disdain for the brand were true. A tidbit for the mental file I was compiling on him. But the real headliner was the certain romantic relationship between the HP and the doctor. They might not be a couple right now, but at some point they had been.
With a stiff nod and an embarrassed glance at me, she too left us alone. I had a sinking feeling Mykal was right. Dr. Korey was the type to blame others for her problems, and I’d just climbed to the top of her hit list.
“Why are you here?” I asked and sighed. “Sir.”
“Several reasons, but I’ll only discuss one.” At ease again, he settled on the stool beside my bed, his attention riveted on me. “I have questions, and you have answers.”
“You’re not the only one with questions,” I muttered.
“Very well. We’ll do an exchange, and I’ll be as forthcoming as you. So tell me. Have you noticed any strange behavior from your boyfriend, the medic, lately?”
Oh no, no, no. He must suspect Shiloh of being a Soalian, like Ember. Or he’d learned of my encounter with the woman. I floundered for a response. “Um. We haven’t put a label on our relationship.”
The HP offered a humorless smile, all lady, please. “Allow me to rephrase. Have you noticed any strange behavior from Shiloh Cruz?” When I hesitated, he added, “I’ll make it easy on you. Do you think it’s possible Shiloh is a Soalian? More specifically, do you believe he’s working with a group led by his sister, Ember Cruz, who serves as one of John Victors’s seconds? Yes or no?”
And there it was. Confirmation of my fears. I shifted, uncomfortable. If I said no, which was what I honestly believed, and the medic ever tested positive or consorted with his sister, I’d be castigated for my poor judgment or suspected of aiding him. But saying yes would only doom both Shiloh and me to endless testing and suspicion. I might be kicked out of the academy.
“I’m dealing with a possible head injury, High Prince Dolion. We should probably save this topic for another time.”
The HP remained undeterred. He stood and moved directly in front of me, a tower of strength and determination. His heady scent enveloped me, and I shivered. Without thought, I began to reach for his wounded cheek, intending to wipe away a new bead of blood. Thankfully I caught myself before making contact. At least he didn’t cringe from the thought of contact.
“Give me an answer,” he demanded.
I licked my lips. Very well. “Anything is possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s happened.” There. A nonanswer. “My turn to ask a question. Do you think Shiloh is a Soalian working for his sister?”
“Since I’m being as forthcoming as you, I just say maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” He leaned in to lightly pinch my chin and shift the angle of my face. The (almost) affectionate action, his incredible warmth, and those wonderfully abrasive calluses rattled me more than ever. A muscle jumped beneath his wound. “Jericho left you with a bruise.”
“I’ve had worse, and so have you.” Look away from this man? Impossible. His intensity held me captive with a stronger force than his gentle grip. He was just so beautiful.
Beautiful. Yes. The perfect word to describe a man whose usually harsh features were softened like this. And his lashes! So long they curled at the ends.