Chapter 233 233
Sabine POV
I can still feel those eyes burning into the back of my head, and I know exactly who they belong to. I ignore him deliberately, choosing instead to enjoy the spectacle in front of me.
That is until Maurice calls out for me from a distance.
He must have circled around the back looking for me. I honestly thought he’d sleep longer.
I hear him mutter something under his breath at Damien before storming straight over to me, his hand immediately settling possessively at my waist.
“Put some clothes on!” he shouts at the men.
Damien responds with a loud, booming laugh.
“I don’t like you looking at other men!”
His voice is tight, edged with something sharp but not cruel.
Jealousy?
“Don’t worry, Maurice,” I say lightly, giving him a wink. “They’ve got nothing on you.”
For emphasis, I cheekily check the width of his bicep, my fingers grazing the solid muscle.
Later, I wait at breakfast not only for the cinnamon rolls I was promised, but also for Damien’s child to appear.
Neither does.
I was fairly certain Damien and Aurélie were together. Was she the mother of his child?
The breakfast table is tense.
Maurice, my only real cheerleader, is shooting daggers at Damien, while Damien chews his food with an infuriatingly wide grin. Their dynamic is strange like an old married couple who thrive on bickering.
Aurélie’s eyes drift again, unfocusing for just a moment.
Is she alright?
Does she need caffeine? Or worse does she suffer from seizures, and me mentioning it would be some massive social taboo?
It’s painfully obvious I haven’t been around people much. I’m questioning every thought, every movement.
I think I might be socially awkward.
There’s another woman her name escapes me who prepared breakfast. She’s tidying up now while everyone sits there… staring at me.
I keep my head down, pretending to read a magazine.
I haven’t absorbed a single word.
I just can’t meet their eyes. If I do, I’m convinced something awkward will tumble out of my mouth.
Doctor Fabrice walks in and places a sheet of paper in front of me.
Now I have no choice but to look up.
His gaze is gentle, filled with a kind of sympathy I haven’t felt directed at me in a very long time.
“Sabine…” He clears his throat, then rests a hand on my shoulder.
My eyes immediately drop to where he’s touching me, then flick to Maurice.
Something inside me doesn’t like another man touching me when Maurice is nearby.
How strange.
I haven’t even known Maurice for twenty-four hours.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Fabrice begins softly. “Something that might come as a shock.”
“Okay…”
“The blood samples I took last night?”
“Yes you said you were sending them for analysis.”
“Yes. The results came back quickly.” He pauses. “Your blood contains traces of wolfsbane and mercury.”
“Right…”
I hate this.
It’s like listening to my ex ramble about game consoles and graphics words being spoken, but none of it connecting. Like he’s talking in an entirely different language.
“Bee…”
Maurice’s voice cuts through the fog, gentle and grounding. His hand settles on my thigh beneath the table.
I should pull away.
Instead, I don’t.
“The daily injections,” Fabrice continues, his tone turning cold, “they weren’t insulin.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Bee,” Maurice murmurs, “your father has been drugging you.”
“Drugging me?” I laugh suddenly, the sound sharp and disbelieving. “Why would he do that?”
“The wolves last night” Damien begins, but Maurice cuts him off.
“Do you mind?”
Damien lifts his hands, conceding the floor.
“As Damien was saying,” Maurice continues, “the wolves last night weren’t ordinary wild animals.”
“No,” I snap. “You were one. You turned into one right in front of me.”
“Yes, Bee. We were.” He holds my gaze. “We’re werewolves.”
“There’s no such thing,” I scoff. “Whatever happened last night it wasn’t that.”
“Well, there is,” Damien says coolly, leaning back in his chair. “And you saw it with your own eyes.”
He seems impatient now. Almost like he wants me to fear him.
I don’t.
In fact, I deliberately hold his stare longer than necessary, enjoying the tension. He doesn’t know it yet, but I could make his life very difficult if I wanted.
“Sabine,” Fabrice says, trying to pull my focus back. “These injections… you’ve been taking them since when? Since you turned twelve?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Why?”
“They were designed to suppress your wolf.”
My head throbs.
“My wolf?”
“Yes, Sabine.” He meets my eyes. “You are a werewolf.”