Chapter 113

Alaric’s POV

In my rush to save Cara, I didn’t see the attacker, only the knife. That is my greatest regret in this situation, especially as I lean up to give Cara a once-over, making sure she is unharmed. She’s healthy, but trembling, likely afraid.

Who wouldn’t be, when they just had a knife flying at them?

I look around, over to where the knife would have come from, but whoever was there is no gone.

“I’m calling the police,” says a passerby. “Gods, you just saved her life.”

I don’t care about praise. The only thing I care about is the woman in my arms.

“Cara?” I ask. She’s staring at me with wide eyes, likely in shock. “Cara, are you okay?”

She blinks once, twice, then her eyes focus on mine. “Alaric…”

“I’m here,” I tell her. “You are safe now.”

“Someone tried to…”

“They are gone,” I assure her. “You are safe.”

She starts to soften, like she believes me, but then she glances at my shoulder. “Alaric, you’re bleeding.”

She pushes on my chest, asking me to sit up. I do, giving her space to go up onto her knees. She crawls toward me, her soft fingers gently touching my arm.

My suit is torn. That knife tore straight through the fabric and cut into the flesh beneath. I can feel it now, a slight sting. It’s bleeding a lot but it’s not deep. Though that it hasn’t healed yet, thanks to my quick healing factor as an Alpha, means that the blade must have been silver.

A blade of any other metal might serious wound Cara, especially with her wolf in stasis, but it might not kill her. A silver blade though. If that hits its mark – hell, even if it’s close enough – that would be enough to kill her on the spot.

“Alaric,” Cara says again, pain in her voice.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “I barely feel it.”

“This shouldn’t have happened…” she whispers, more to herself now than to me.

She’s right, but not for the reason she thinks. She’s ready to blame herself, when really that assassin should have never even tried to strike. I, too, accept some of the blame.

Cara must have left work a few minutes early. With my pace, I was planning to arrive at quarter till 5, not wanting to be too early. I should have thrown caution to the wind and arrived much earlier than this.

If I did, maybe I could have seen the attacker. Or perhaps this entire ordeal could have been avoided from the start, if I chased off the assassin with my presence.

No, me ending up with a tiny little cut, even from a silver blade, is the best case scenario.

True to her word, the passerby called the police. They arrive now, sirens wailing. Evidence is collected, Cara and I are both briefly interviewed.

“I didn’t see anything but the blade,” I tell the officer.

“Me too,” Cara says. Her voice is small.

The officer gives me a meaningful look. “Perhaps you better take her home.”

That’s the best advice I’ve heard all day. Holding Cara close, I lead her away from the scene of the attack and back to her house. Outside of her door, I wonder if I should say goodbye, but she continues to hold onto me tightly, not letting me go.

“Your wound…” she says.

I glance at it. It’s still bleeding – damned silver – but it’s not bad. “I’ll get it looked at when I know you are safe.”

“I’ll look at it,” she says. “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

“Cara, you should rest.”

“Please, Alaric. I need to feel useful.” Glancing up at me with her wide eyes, she looks so helplessly lost. I couldn’t turn her away now if I wanted to. There’s absolutely nothing in the world I would deny her when she looks at me like this.

She’s usually so strong, so put together. Right now she is frightened and lost. Whatever I can do to help her reclaim herself I will do.

The wound needs tending anyway. I can’t deny the thought of Cara being the one to nurse me fills me with warmth.

“Okay,” I tell her, and let her lead me to the bathroom.

Eamon’s POV

Hearing the report of my sister’s attack, I jump to my feet. How could this be? How could security be so lax around here that the princess of the Auburn family could be attacked in broad daylight?!

Thank the gods for Alaric, who had been just in the right place at the right moment. I have Collin to thank for that.

But the rest of it? “I want answers,” I tell the reporting officers. “I want this person caught before they can try again. And I want security on my sister around the clock.”

“Yes, Alpha,” the officers say.

“Alpha,” says my assistant from the doorway.

I’m so fired up that I nearly snap at her to go away right now, not wanting to be bothered while I’m dealing with this. Yet, when I look at her, I can see the concern in her face. She’s holding a document. It must be important for her to interrupt this specific meeting.

Swallowing down my frustration, I ask, “What is it?”

“An intelligence report, Sir,” she says. “It just came through. It was on the printer when… when…” She does finish speaking.

I hold up my hand. “The report, please.”

She brings it to me and I glance down at it.

It is in fact an urgent notice from the intelligence office, faxed over in urgency. The first line says they tried calling but couldn’t get through.

Damn it. I was so caught up in work that I didn’t answer, and I’d sent my assistant away for a bit.

I am the only one to blame for missing this.

The report is labeled as urgent, and inside is a dire warning.

There is proof that Cara Auburn has become the target of an assassination plot. The assassin is presumed to be a rogue werewolf, and has likely already infiltrated the pack. Advise immediate caution and increased security.

Fear strikes through my heart, but as Alpha, I must keep my composure, even though the wolf in me wants to rage in defense of my sister.

She is with Alaric, I remind myself. She is safe.

For now the best thing I can do is try to find the attacker.

I hand the report to the officers. “We need to act on this. Now.”

Cara’s POV

With Alaric sitting on the edge of the tub, his suit coat and jacket gone, I gently clean out the slash on his arm, hoping to cleanse any silver residue that might be remaining in the flesh.

The cut isn’t deep, thank goodness, but when a silver blade grazes werewolf skin, a poison lingers. Despite Alaric’s strong healing ability, this wound will not close until it’s properly cleaned.

As I work, I’m relieved when I begin to see the signs of healing.

“I’m fine, Cara,” Alaric says, not for the first time and no less gently any other time.

This time however, he reaches up and cups my cheek. He wipes away a fallen tear with his thumb. Funny, I didn’t even realize I was crying.

I look at him, at the concern that still lingers in his eyes, even though he was the one who placed himself in mortal danger, putting himself between me and the blade.

I’m so glad he’s okay. If anything happened to him…

I don’t finish that thought, already finding it far too painful.

Leaning closer, I feel drawn in by the warmth of him, by my relief, by how much he obviously cares about me to have risked himself like that…

He’s shirtless, and that’s distracting too. So much muscle… So strong… So protective…

He seems surprised by my movements but stills his own, watching and waiting, not moving forward or back as I lean in, hovering my lips just above his.