Claiming the Jackal by Seressia Glass Page B

Inari so that she’s aware of this unpredictability. One of the jackals has a mate and she is staying at his bedside. The other man might appreciate the presence of another jackal nearby. I’ll need at least four hours of rest before I can attempt healing again. It would probably be good to institute a rotation of guards until my patients can be released. That way we can be assured that everyone is protected from...unpredictability.”
    Falling back on the training that allowed her to treat patients in a war zone and other harsh conditions, she continued, “The jackal who didn’t make it—”
    “Peter.” The word was a snarl from Hector’s throat. “The jackal murdered by that witch bitch’s Lost Ones is named Peter.”
    “I know his name.” She swallowed. “I can ready Peter’s body, but I don’t know what you do with your dead—”
    Hector snarled again. “We take care of our own.”
    The force of Hector’s fury hit her defense, causing her to stagger back a step. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that she drew blood. The physical pain erected a barrier against the mental anguish, though she knew her meager defenses would crumble if she had to take much more. Hold on , she told herself again. “Thank you, Rana, but that’s not necessary.” Markus ran a hand over his face. “You are clearly exhausted from tending our people. This, however, is a duty that falls to the Anapa and Anput. Hector, gather our clan.”
    Hector spun on his heel, heading for the door without a word. If he spared her a glance, she didn’t know, since she kept her gaze on Markus’s desk. The last thing she wanted to see was the hatred and anger on Hector’s face. She especially didn’t want to see it directed at her.
    Hurt pressed down on her, sapping what little energy she had left. Her head, her back, her heart, they all ached. As much as she understood Hector’s anger, she didn’t understand the ferocity of it. Surely Markus had more reason to be angry, but he’d married Tia, granddaughter of the High Priestess. If he didn’t carry hatred in his heart, why did Hector?
    She couldn’t look at Markus, sure her misery was clear on her face. “Thank you, Anapa. If you have no further need of me, I’ll retire.”
    “Rana.”
    She paused. “Yes?”
    He gestured to the chair. “Sit.”
    This time, the order was clear. She sat. Silence built as Markus regarded her, his expression measuring. She fought the urge to squirm, unsure of why he had asked her to remain behind.
    “You care for him, don’t you?”
    She released a shaky sigh. “Pretty sure care is too weak a word to describe how I feel about Hector, but yes. I care. More than I should, but I don’t think it’s enough.”
    “I’d hope it would be.” Markus sighed, too. “I had hoped that your relationship with him would dull his fury, which is why I didn’t put a stop to it. Though he wasn’t born the day we lost our leader Sekhanu, he’s been at war since he came of age. Two thousand years of fighting Lost Ones, of fending off attacks from rogue witches who wanted a jackal pelt for their dark spells.”
    She recoiled. “There are dark witches out there using jackals in their spells?” Bile rose in her throat.
    “There are,” Markus answered, his expression grim. “Hector has been fighting them for centuries. He lost his father to them, and nearly lost his brother Alonso to the Lost Ones’ curse. As captain of the guard, I send him out to battle daily. You can understand why he thinks of an Isis priestess as enemy first. His rage is consuming him alive. It weighs on him.”
    “I know.” She looked down at her fingers knotted tightly together in her lap. “I heard his report to you. His anger is the one thing I don’t think I can heal.”
    “Perhaps.” His amber gazed pierced her, seeing right to her soul. “You need to tell him, Rana. I will not have you continue to deceive my captain.”
    He knew.