**

It was hard working in a laboratory while four guards glared at you, Lilah thought, but it was even harder when your lab assistant was pretending you didn't exist.

"Potassium glutamate, please," Lilah said.

She held out a hand. Pip gave her a look. He was perched on a dusty desk, his gangly legs dangling off the edge. An uneaten plate of steak and mashed potatoes sat next to him, which was either for the rabid wolf locked in a bedroom upstairs, or because he was on a silent hunger strike. She didn't have the heart to ask which.

"Pip?"

He pulled a face. "Get it yourself."

Lilah sighed, abandoning her test tube to scour the shelves. The makeshift laboratory was unbearably hot; sunlight streamed through the glass conservatory roof, making sweat prickle along the back of her neck. Combined with the acidic fumes and the flames from the Bunsen burner, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted yet.

At least she was back to wearing loose dresses after her supposed fainting incident at the fighting pits three days ago. Small mercies.

Lilah ran a finger along the labelled bottles. Shattered glass refracted rainbows, and she winced. Damn. She'd missed some. She'd tried three possible cures for rabid wolf disease; the first one had curdled, and the second had looked promising until it exploded and dissolved the sleeve of her lab coat.

This was her third attempt.

She held out a phial. "Do you want to measure the glutamate?"

Pip weighed an empty test tube in his hand. The light shifted, catching the yellowing bruise above his eyebrow, and something tightened in her chest.

"Alright," Lilah said. "Let me know if you change your mind."

She busied herself with mixing, occasionally pausing to scribble down a quantity. The back of her neck prickled, just as it always did when Griffin's stare was boring into her. Her guard had backed off since Carter had announced their engagement, but it didn't mean that he wasn't waiting for his opportunity to grab her arm just a little too hard when the alpha wasn't looking. He'd certainly restrained the rabid wolf pup with just a little too much glee.

Speaking of which.

She stirred the mixture. "Carter told me that you've been visiting him. The infected wolf."

Pip's grip tightened on the phial. "Of course he did." His voice was bitter. "I can't even go for a shit without Carter's cronies trailing me down the hall."

Lilah forced herself to keep stirring. It was unlike Pip to swear. He seemed harder, somehow, as if the last few days had whittled any softness from his face. Not that she blamed him; this place had a way of chipping away the best parts of people.

She poured more glutamate. "What's he like?"

"Carter?" Pip pulled a face. "Bit of an arsehole. Although you'd know better than I would since you're the one warming his bed."

Her head jerked up. "I'm not—" Lilah bit her lip, trying to stop the sudden stinging in her eyes. "That's unfair."

Pip's eyes narrowed. "Is it?"

"I'm not sleeping with him."

Even Pip's mental snort was derisive. "Just marrying him, then."

"Oi!" Griffin gestured between them. "Stop that."

The guard's hand jumped to his sword. Lilah swallowed. Her heart was swelling, and she thought of the mixture yesterday, how it had seemed to pulse before it exploded into a million pieces.

Pip's hand was white on the desk. "What happened to being mated to Beau? He's probably out of his mind, and this is how you treat him?"

She capped the bottle. "We can't talk like this. It's dangerous."

"Do you even want to go home?"

Finally, Pip was looking at her, his eyes dark and wary. A lump rose in her throat. Yes. Goddess, did she ever want to go home. If it was up to her, they would have left for Opal House yesterday. But telling Pip of her plans would only put him in danger, and he was too young and volatile to keep a level head.

Her chest burned. Trust me, she wanted to say.

She cleared her throat. "Can you pass the polygeline?"

Pip looked away. She hadn't realized there was hope in his expression until it was wiped away, replaced with grim resignation, and it was that part that killed her. She turned for the shelves, rifling through the bottles.

"Polygeline will stabilize the mixture. Combined with an inactivated virus, it can stimulate the patient's immune system—"

"I don't give a shit," Pip muttered.

She paused. "I thought you wanted to become a medic."

He clasped his hands. "Yeah, well, that was when I thought you were someone worth being."

The words met their mark, slicing somewhere in the region of her pulmonary artery. She turned back to her mixture. "Tell me about the wolf. How far has he progressed?"

She'd only seen the wolf pup shortly after the fighting pit, armed with a medical kit and sutures. The teenager had been sedated and half-delirious, although he'd managed to get a good swipe at her chin. "Leach," he'd slurred, thrashing against his restraints. "You're all bloody leaches. All you do is take."

She hadn't taken any blood. Even if the boy had been in a healthy state to donate, there was the matter of consent.

And yet...

Lilah drew a breath, stirring the mixture. She told herself that she'd stayed away from the infected wolf pup to draw Carter's attention away from him, but the truth was that she was ashamed. Because she did want something from him. And did that make her any better than the rest of them?

As if Pip could read her thoughts, his eyes narrowed. "Jack," he said pointedly "has no interest in being your personal lab rat. Your buddies Carter and Xavier slaughtered his family. You know that, right?"

She stiffened. "What?"

Pip folded his arms. "They released rabid wolves on his pack. It was either surrender and acknowledge Carter as alpha or die. Jack was bitten trying to protect his baby sister." He looked away. "Fat lot of good that did her."

The acrid tang of chemicals burned Lilah's nostrils, and sweat gathered in the crooks of her elbows. The conservatory was too hot. Too close. She wished that she could see the rolling green hills beyond the manor house, but Carter had built towering brick walls, and all she could see was the wilting brown shrubbery.

A terrible sadness settled over her.

It was astonishing, she thought, that Carter's cruelty could still surprise her.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "But that's why this work is so important. Imagine the lives we could save."

Pip shook his head. "It's a moot point. There's no cure for the infection."

"Not yet."

Lilah turned for the cupboard. Pip moved with impossible speed, blocking her path. He was taller than her, Lilah realized with some shock; how hadn't she noticed that before?

Pip crossed his gangly arms. "For the record, you're a terrible actress. That faint was obviously fake. Even Jack thinks so."

Lilah nodded at the shelf. "Can you pass that green bottle, please?"

To her surprise, Pip obeyed. He didn't release the bottle when she took it. "You really think you can cure him?"

She hesitated. "I have a theory."

"Explain it to me," Pip said.

So she did. Pip listened with surprising patience, interrupting only to ask a thoughtful question. What was the chemical difference between a vaccines and a cure? Could they look at human rabies vaccines and modify one from there? A messy knot tightened in her throat. Something about Pip's intent look reminded her of Kit; they had often tossed around ideas like this, challenging and circling like two hawks eyeing the same fish.

Now she might never see him again.

Lilah turned up the heat, blinking hard against the fumes. The wedding planning, the flower arrangements, the stupid sodding dress... all of it was bullshit. But she needed Carter to believe that she wanted this. She needed him to trust her.

And she needed to get him alone. Tonight, if she could.

Speaking of which...

The sickly-sweet scent of oranges wafted down the corridor. Pip's nose wrinkled a second before the doors opened, revealing Carter, who was dressed in grey suit trousers. He ran a hand through his golden hair, and she found herself staring at his hands. Masculine. The nails square and buffed. She knew those hands, knew the blue freckle that rested at the base of his thumb like a morning star. He'd baked cookies with those hands, and brushed her hair, and dug flowers from the earth to lay on her parents' graves.

How were those hands capable of slaughtering a whole pack?

How had she not seen it?

"Sienna," Carter said, leaning against the workbench. "I thought I might find you in here." He nodded to the shelves, ignoring Pip entirely. "The lab's to your satisfaction?"

"It's beautiful."

"Good. I had it renovated. It used to be—"

"A conservatory," Lilah said. "I remember."

She and Carter had taken their lessons in the conservatory during sunny afternoons. Etiquette lessons, history tutorials, violin rehearsals, an introduction to the Viennese waltz... she'd caught her toe on a loose tile and skinned her knee during a particularly rowdy fencing match, and her instructor had clucked and fussed, applying pressure to the wound. You'll learn, he'd said. All the bleeding stops eventually.

How wrong he'd been.

"I'm going to see Jack," Pip muttered.

He hopped up from the workbench, glowering as two guards fell into step beside him. Lilah's heart fell as the door swung shut. They'd finally been making progress. Surely Pip would forgive her once she executed her plan; if she could keep him onside for just a few more days—

There was a shattering sound.

She flinched, raising her hand instinctively, but it didn't matter; Carter was already there, shielding her from the glass that rained over the workbench. His expression was stony as she retrieved a dustpan. He did a quick scan and — apparently satisfied that she wasn't actively bleeding — reached for paper towel.

"Let me guess," Carter said. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

She hesitated. "Not exactly."

She searched his face, but his expression was unreadable. Damn. Damn. The last thing she wanted was for Carter to grow impatient and restrict her access to the laboratory. She needed this place, for more reasons than he knew.

Carter chucked the paper towel into the bin. "You're not close, are you?"

"I'm getting there," Lilah lied.

She was just missing one ingredient, some crucial, elusive thing that would stabilize the mixture. And then there was the matter of testing it; Jack's blood — if he agreed to give it to her — would only get her so far. She needed a live patient.

And that was a problem.

Lilah swept the glass into the bin. Even if the mixture was perfect, she'd rather set her lab coat on fire than risk killing someone. She could test it on herself, but that would involve getting bitten by an infected wolf.

Carter watched her with dark eyes. "I'm giving you until the wedding to trial... whatever it is you're doing on the wolf pup. Then I'm putting it down."

A lump rose in her throat. It, Lilah thought hollowly; not him. She thought of Beau kneeling in the dusty chapel, anguish written in the lines of his face. Both men had done unforgivable things, and yet she would forgive Beau every time; not because she loved him — although she did — but because his intentions were always kind.

The same couldn't be said for Carter.

"I understand," Lilah said.

"Good."

She swallowed. "Thank you for the lab. It really is beautiful."

Carter's hands snaked around her waist. When he spoke, his voice was hot velvet in her ear. "I was generous at the fighting pit, Si, but I know you were faking it." She jerked, and his hands dug into her hips. "And if you try something like that again... I won't be as lenient the next time."

Her heartbeat tripled. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Carter's mouth grazed the side of her cheek. "You've been through a lot. It's understandable that it will take some time for you to return to your old self."

"Thank you." She closed her eyes. "Did you need something?"

Carter released her, and the rush of air was a punch of relief. "The caterer wants a decision on the cake."

"Anything but—"

"Raisins," Carter finished, with a half-smile. "I know."

Lilah's hand hovered over the bottles that she'd been tidying. Once, she'd thought it romantic when the male hero of a novel knew the love interest's favourite type of flowers, or how she took her tea. But just because someone knew information about you didn't mean they knew you, she thought.

A December breeze filtered through the window, raising gooseflesh on her arms. The lump in her throat grew thicker. Renwater, she thought. You'd be insufferable if you knew how much I missed you. Forgive me for what I'm about to do.

Lilah drew a breath. "Why don't we taste some cake tonight?"

Carter stilled. "Together?"

"Why not?" She shrugged. "We could have dinner just the two of us. Like old times."

Carter's face was wary. "What do you want in return?"

He suddenly looked so much like the little boy that had hovered uncertainly by the table at dinner parties, glancing at his father as he rattled off The Iliad from memory to impress guests, that her heart gave a painful tug.

"Nothing," Lilah said. "I meant what I said earlier, Carter. I am in love with Beau. But the logical part of me knows that it's just the mating bond, and in four weeks, it'll wear off." She swallowed. "You just need to be patient with me."

Carter studied her. He was like an architect inspecting for cracks in the plaster, and she kept her expression even. She'd been lying for six months now. What was a few more days?

"I can do that," Carter said finally.

She smiled. "Then I'll see you tonight."

He gave her one last searching look before slipping out of the conservatory. She could feel Griffin's burning gaze on the back of her neck as she gathered her notebooks, although he didn't risk taunting her. Not while Carter was still within earshot. The other guard shifted, murmuring something about trading a shift before the wedding day, and Lilah seized on the second of distraction to grab a phial.

The poison was hot in her pocket as her guards trailed her from the room.