“Okay…” Manlius said as he turned and led the way deeper into the house.
Boaz followed him down the hall to a room at the back. The smell grew stronger there. The moment he stepped inside, he understood why.
Dozens of candles, covered every surface in the room—tables, shelves, even the floor in some places. Thin streams of incense smoke curled through the air, drifting lazily, making the whole room feel hazy.
“Brett, he’s here,” Manlius said, moving toward a table where a man stood with his back to them, dressed in denim from head to toe.
“Oh, that’s great,” the man said, blowing out a matchstick as he turned. A small smile formed when he saw Boaz, but it faded as his eyes dropped to Boaz’s arm.
“You’re hurt.”
Boaz glanced down. “Yeah, but it’s nothing.”
“Do you mind?” Brett asked, already stepping closer.
Boaz gave a short shake of his head and rolled up his sleeve. The fabric dragged against the bite, and he hissed under his breath as pain flared.
“That’s a werewolf bite,” Manlius said, coming closer. “What happened?”
“Hansel bit me,” Boaz admitted.
Manlius’s brows pulled together. “Why?”
“He wanted to fight the vampire,” Boaz said. “I got between them. Should’ve been more careful.”
“The bite isn’t deep,” Brett said after a quick look. “I’ll clean it and put something on it.”
He guided Boaz toward the table, where a porcelain basin sat filled with water. The surface rippled as Brett dipped a cloth into it.
Boaz tensed as the cloth touched the wound as Brett cleaned it carefully. Then he applied the salve, his touch gentle and soothing. Boaz sighed as the salve cooled the heat of the bite.
“Thanks,” Boaz said once he was done.
“You’re welcome,” Brett said, wiping his hands on a cloth before glancing around the room. “Are you sure he’s coming?”
Right then, a knock echoed faintly from the front of the house.
Boaz straightened slightly.
“I’ll get it,” Manlius said, already heading out.
The room fell quiet again, filled only with the flicker of candlelight. A few minutes later, footsteps approached as Manlius returned with Alexander.
The vampire stepped into the room, and the first thing Boaz noticed was the way his nostrils flared slightly, as if he was smelling something unpleasant.
Then Alexander looked at him, his expression shifted into clear disgust.
Boaz frowned, caught off guard.
What the hell is his problem?
He turned toward the window suddenly self-conscious. He took a deep breath trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore him. But without thinking, he subtly sniffed at himself again, a small crease forming between his brows.
“Your Majesty, this is Brett. He’s a healer. He’s the one who’s going to run some tests to see if you’re still infected or not.”
Boaz glanced over at Manlius, one brow lifting slightly at the way he saidYour Majesty. Like Alexander actually deserved respect.
Boaz almost snorted.