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The bear growls at me. It's not in English, it's not in any kind of human language, and he doesn't deign to speak to me often, so the sound of his voice, of his will in my brain, shocks me out of my own fear.

"I promise," I tell my other self.

And a moment later, I'm back in my human form. Naked, ripped clothes on the floor, grappling with the top of the tincture eyedropper, trying to get it open in time to save Vivienne, to bring her back to us. I'll never forgive myself if she dies, and I realize right then and there that it wouldn't matter if I'd claimed her truly as my mate or not. I'll go crazy if the Eternal Society takes her from me. I might as well make the most of it while I still have her.

"Made a promise that I'd keep you alive," I growl at Vivienne, pressing her pretty lips open so I can deposit a drop of the tincture on her tongue.

Her eyes are fluttering in her state of unconsciousness, her mouth moving as though she's trying to speak and can't. A fine sheen of sweat dampens her brow, and I drop another bit of Jekyll's tincture onto her tongue.

"Come on, Vivienne," I growl. "Wake up. Wake up. You have to wake up, lass. Take a damned breath, woman. You're all I've ever wanted. You’re too fucking stubborn to die."

I'm crying, I realize, as a drop lands on Vivienne's cheek, another landing on her tongue next to where the tincture's landed.

A moment later—or fuck, maybe a lifetime, I don't know—she takes a deep breath.

She's alive. Thank fuck she's alive.

A sob tears out of me, a sound that it takes my brain a moment to catch up to, so foreign it is. She's not awake, not yet, but her face has eased, and I know that some of the pain must have stopped, because the next breath she takes is easy, unlabored. And I know in my heart that she's going to be okay. My mate is going to survive. And right now, that's all that fucking matters.

I lift her up in my arms, ignoring the way that my beast is pacing in the confines of the cage of my body, and I take her to her room to sleep off the magic exertion.

And I swear to myself—"I swear to you, Vivienne," I say. "I'm gonna fucking find out how to solve this. I'm not gonna let you go the way of the other Midnight heirs. No, you'll take Midnight House in your own way, in your own time. And you'll survive this magic. Gods be damned, I won't let you die. You're mine, Vivienne. I don't give a fuck what you have to say about it, what you think about it, or anything else besides the fact that you're mine."

That quiets my bear just enough for my blood pressure to tamp down, my heartbeat to even out. And I find myself breathing in time with the beautiful woman asleep in my arms.

Thirty

Vivienne

Iwake up so warm, from such a deep sleep, that it takes me way too long to remember where the hell I am. And then no time at all to realize that Lachlan is the man who's wrapped his arms around me, sleeping in bed next to me with his mouth just slightly open.

I have no idea what the fuck happened. The last thing I remember is drinking from the cup, an old woman telling Lachlan not to ruin it all as pain sliced through my head, and then Midnight House swallowing me up with black-and-white jaws. And I'm pretty sure I passed out, which means...

I blink, staring up at Lachlan's sleeping face.

... instead of dropping me onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, he crawled in next to me, his kilt wrapped around him, and is currently spooning me—all six-foot-seven-whatever of him.

I've definitely woken up in worse ways.

The headache is still there, but it's a dull remnant of what it was only a few hours ago. I pause, pursing my lips, trying to remember what exactly happened at the Sanguine house. Terrifying vampires. The Head of House, Julian St. George. Drinking from a chalice. Somehow getting enough magic to neutralize whatever the hell was in it and turn it into water. Either that or I didn't succeed, and that's why I feel like absolute death right now.

Nah, I decide. I feel like shit because I succeeded. I'd actually be dead if I hadn't. I'm pretty sure about that.

Despite the heat of Lachlan's bulk, I shiver, fear surfacing at the memory of what I survived by his side. So why is he cuddling me? He told me not to read anything into anything, that we were doing this to protect me, and that we were going to keep it professional. Of course, he did also agree to...

My gaze shifts and I catch sight of the book I bought weeks ago buried under others on my nightstand, The Ursine Question. I have a feeling I need to figure out what's wrong with Lachlan and why he's decided to stick to my side like this before I do anything else. In fact, I'd bet money on that being a very important piece of this puzzle.

Afraid to wake him, I stretch long, trying to wriggle out from his warm embrace. I shift slightly, and my eyes go wide as my butt meets the impossibly hard length of what's gotta be the biggest boner I've ever felt.

I bite my lip, suddenly struck with a need to laugh, which is maybe my greatest flaw. Laughing at inappropriate times has never not gotten me into trouble. I clamp down on my cheeks, biting hard, trying to do anything to distract myself.

How the fuck did I get myself into this position?

He doesn't move, though, and I take that as a good sign as I do my best to free myself from the viselike grip he has around me. I must have really fucking scared him. That's all I can think. Well, I scared myself, so that makes two of us.

I reach my hand out to grab the book, wriggling my fingers, and finally succeed in catching the edge of the cloth-bound manuscript. It teeters slightly, threatening to fall off the nightstand completely, but through an athletic prowess I had no idea I possessed, I manage to grab it at the very last second and pull it close to me.

A soft hoot distracts me as I try to calm my breathing, and I glance up to see my wooden owl watching over us, an inscrutable expression on his face. I wish I could ask him what the fuck is going on with Lachlan and get my answers, but while Lachlan didn't move or wake up when I wiggled, I have a feeling that talking would snap him out of whatever peaceful slumber he's currently experiencing.