"She's hurt," he says, still smiling.
I narrow my eyes in his direction, but he doesn't seem to notice, still with an absurd tilt of his lips as he nods, as if the world is right again.
And in a way, it is. I get it. To go from motherhood to not-motherhood in the span of three seconds, I also feel relieved. And no one's getting murdered over a misunderstanding, so even better. But as I look down at Bun's tearful face, at thesmudge of red on her knee I've already kissed, there's a tiny, sharp pang of disappointment.
Ridiculous.
I've known this child for hours, not days or years. I'm not her mother. I don'twantto be her mother. I'm eighteen and just escaped a pack that treated me like dirt for being human. The last thing I need is a shape-shifting toddler calling me "mama" and meaning it.
And yet.
For one brief, insane moment, someone needed me. Someone chose me, specifically. Not because I was convenient, or there, or because a mystical bond said so. Just... me.
I swallow hard and force a smile. "See? Not my kid."
My heart breaks a little.
Bun beams, wiggling her magically better leg.
The tension drains from the room by degrees. Jack-Eye looks like he might start breathing again. Owen's no longer tense, though as soon as he meets Lyre's eyes, he jerks back until he bumps into the wall.
Unsurprisingly, Lyre looks disappointed.
"That's a shame," she drawls, stretching her arms over her head. "I was looking forward to the whole 'you have a secret baby' drama. Really would've spiced things up."
Caine glowers at her, but she doesn't even look at him. I used to think she was suicidally stupid to stand up to the man, but after seeing her fling him across the room? I'm starting to see there's alotmore to Lyre than I ever expected.
Bun turns her face back toward me, rubbing her nose against my neck. I wrap my arms around her, careful not to squeeze too tight. There's something uncomfortably right about holding her. Like my arms were designed for exactly this.
"So all these kids are... what did you call them? Soulspliced?" I ask Owen, desperately needing to change the subject beforeI think too hard about the maternal instincts apparently lying dormant inside me.
He nods, relieved to be discussing something other than perceived parenthood. Lyre takes a step closer to him, and he stiffens further. I wasn't sure it was actually possible. "Yes. Their soul has the essence of multiple souls within it, which is considered—"
"—Fuck."
Chapter thirty-two
Grace: Sanguimancers
Lyre's voice cuts through his explanation, and she groans. Loudly. Rubbing at her forehead as she looks at the ceiling, her other hand propped onto her hip.
If I had to guess at her emotional state, it would be exasperated, but I'm not sure why.
"What?" I ask, tightening my grip on Bun instinctively.
"I forgot the cages," she says, smacking her palm against her forehead once. Then twice. "Damn it, I forgot about the cages."
Caine's attention snaps to her. "What cages?"
"The facility where I found—ugh. It's a long story. Look, the point is that there are cages underground. A lot of them. Filled with shifters." Lyre's gaze flicks to Bun, then back to Caine. Her usual sarcasm has vanished entirely. "Some have children in them."
"You forgot about kidnapped people?" I blurt out, unable to process how anyone could forget something like that. Lyre's strange, but she's caring.
Her catlike eyes narrow at me. "I got some bad news. It was no longer a priority."
My heart flips a little.
The Lycan King has returned, all trace of the somewhat warmer and marginally more approachable Caine gone as he asks, "Were they alive?"
