JingYi stirred, her body registering every stretch, every ache. Her thighs trembled with soreness, her hips heavy with bruised satisfaction. Her core still throbbed with the memory of their two nights together.
Yet . . . he was gone.
Her eyes found a folded note resting beside her pillow. She sat up slowly, wincing as her muscles protested, and opened the note.
JingYi,
The Wulfbane limyerite mine has collapsed, trapping two workers inside. I need to free the men from the wreckage and assess the damage.
I’ll return when I can.
—Alexander
The healer in her awoke at once. Two men? How bad were their injuries? What about the limyerite deposit, which House Wulfbane and its people needed to survive?
Then, her eyes lingered on the closing line.
‘I’ll return when I can.’
The part that was soft from her Heat, that had woken wrapped in his scent,stung. It wanted a different note. One with a tender word, a hidden warmth to match the intimacy they’d shared, not this polite distance.
Her throat closed. She reminded herself: Alphas, especially ones like Alexander Wulfbane, were raised to restrain what tenderness they felt, to prioritize duty and act with honour, not emotion.
Still. After she’d fallen asleep to the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, she was certain, perhaps foolishly so, that something had changed.
She folded the note carefully, set it aside, and reached for the bellpull. Her mind snapped into a familiar focus, already cataloguing what needed doing.
“Aliz,” she said when the girl appeared moments later. “Please draw a hot bath and bring a strong cup of tea.”
Before long, she had bathed and dressed in the simple indigo gown Aliz had brought, one with a light blue sash at around the waistline. She braided her hair back and headed to the kitchen, nodding to the head cook on her way in.
“We’ll need a fortifying soup for the people at the mine,” she said. “Beef and barley, with whatever root vegetables we have. Plenty of bread, too. They’ll be cold and exhausted when they return.”
The cook rushed to comply. “Yes, Highness.”
JingYi stepped into the adjoining workroom and began preparing salves. Her fingers found their rhythm with themortar and pestle. Grind, mix, and portion. The methodical work was a tonic for the mind.
But in the lulls between measures, silence rushed in. With it, the memory of last night, full of heated images of their time together. Her breath hitched, an echo in the room. She shook her head and wiped her face.It was fine.He’d gone to handle what needed handling.
And she . . . she would handle what she could.
She was scraping the last of the salve into a jar when footsteps pounded down the corridor.
“Your Highness!” Aliz burst into the room, breathless. “A messenger arrived from the capital.”
JingYi stilled. “The capital?”
The girl nodded, flushed. “He says it’s urgent. A letter from the king, addressed to Lord Wulfbane.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the pestle. “Did you tell him Lord Wulfbane is away?”
“I did, Highness. He wouldn’t leave the letter and insists on putting it in his lordship’s hand himself.”
“Where’s Lady Yrenna?”
“She went to the hilltop to supervise the men bringing the harvest tables back.”
A flicker of wary resolve passed through her. This was what it meant to be the lady of the castle, to stand in the gap when Alexander was away. There was no one else to take the lead. JingYi wiped her hands on a linen cloth.