“No, you’re not.” Rosie rubbed her temple. “You haven’t been fine, not for a very long time.”
“I’m—”
“Shush!” Her aunt put a hand up. “Don’t deny it. Angela and I haven’t seen or heard from you in months, but we always thought it was because you were busy with clients. But then Temperance tells me you’re not even returning her calls—which is not just bad for business, but rude, because your friends and I sang your praises. And now this …” She glanced at the door. “He’s still out there. Waiting to see you. He says he’s your mate. Is that true?”
Blood drained from her face, and her fox howled in displeasure.
Rosie must have sensed it, because she practically jumped away. “Dutchy?” Rosie’s brows drew together. “What’s the matter? Please tell me. So I can help you.”
“Oh, Aunt Rosie.” She burst into tears when her aunt gathered her in her arms. “I … I can’t … I can’t be around him.”
“Why not? Is he lying? Is he not your mate?”
Her vixen hissed and barked, its claws ripping her up at the mere thought of him or mention of his name. It had been doing that ever since he walked away from her, as if her fox trained her not to think of him. And when he had showed up by her bedside and touched her, it had gone crazy, wanting to attack him. “You felt it, right? Felt how my fox reacted to him when he was in here?”
“But why?” Rosie asked. “You’ve never even met—oh.” She frowned. “He didn’t mention you two knew each other before.”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with her gown. “Y-you’ve talked to him?”
“A little bit. He doesn’t really say much. But, as I told you, he hasn’t left your side, except to eat or clean up, and even then, he probably wouldn’t have gone unless Damon was here to nag him.” Rosie placed a hand over hers. “What happened between you two?”
A lump formed in her throat, and though she wanted to say something to Rosie, the words wouldn’t come out.
“It’s all right,” Rosie said sympathetically. “You can tell me when you’re ready, okay?” She pulled her in for a tight hug. “I’ll take care of you. So will Angela.”
“Th-thank you. Can you … don’t tell anyone else back home, okay? Especially Mom?” When her human father had passed away when she was little, Belinda Forrester had moved her and her siblings back to her home town to be close to her family and skulk.
It was the ideal situation as the skulk was close-knit, with families living together not unlike a commune, raising their kits alongside each other. Dutchy had loved it and flourished in it as creativity was encouraged, but she moved away for her studies and career. Everyone had celebrated her successes with her, from getting into the most competitive fashion design program in the country to when the gown she designed for Sybil had made it into Vogue. If any one of them found out what had been happening to her in the last couple of months …
“If that’s what you want.” Rosie’s mouth twisted. “But you’ll let me know what I can do to help you, right?”
“Of course.”
“I need to go outside for a bit, will you be okay?” Rosie asked. “Do you want anything? Some food, if the nurse says it’s okay?”
“Go ahead,” she said. “And no … I’m fine.”
“All right.” Rosie pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
As soon as she was alone, Dutchy let out the breath she’d been holding. She took several deep, calming breaths. Her vixen yapped and slunked about, as if an enemy would pounce at them at any moment.
I know you’re trying to protect me, she told her animal. But why aren’t we healing? Ever since she started shifting when she was about four or five, she’d never been sick or hurt. And now, she’d been out for three days, and the weakness in her body was nothing like she’d ever felt before.
Was the doctor right? Had she somehow disconnected from her animal? She didn’t feel different, other than the fact that her vixen reacted violently to the mere thought of him, and it had gone feral when he tried to touch her. Was this the reason why she couldn’t access her shifter healing?
Rosie said to tell her what she could do to help, but the