Marc scowled and grabbed an armload of first-aid supplies, then followed me into the bathroom. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

“Talk while you sew.” I sat on the closed toilet seat and leaned forward with my left arm over the sink, my broken right arm on my lap.

He transferred his supplies into one arm and laid a clean towel over the back of the toilet tank, then arranged everything on top of that. “Why the hell did you cut your cast off, anyway?”

“Because I can’t Shift to heal with a cast on and you two can’t fight properly while you’re looking out for me. I need to be able to hold my own, and this way I can heal both arms at once.” The reproach on his face expressed his disapproval more clearly than words ever could have. “Don’t start. My dad already knows and he’s cool with it.” Mostly because there was no other option.

Marc frowned. “Do you have any idea how bad this is going to hurt?”

I rolled my eyes and stared up at him. “What am I, now, delicate? I can take it. Just do it.” Marc shrugged and unsealed a squirt bottle I didn’t recognize. “What’s that?”

“Sterile solution, to flush the wound. Which, in your case, is half your arm.” He flipped open the lid and leaned over for a better view as he squirted the first stream right into my open wound.

I hissed and gritted my teeth. “Talk to me. Please.”

Marc scowled without looking up. “Honestly, you’re not going to want to hear what I have to say right now, Faythe.”

Ditto. I exhaled in frustration. “You know he doesn’t know about any of this, right?” I swallowed a groan and looked away from my arm. “I swear Jace doesn’t know. He doesn’t consciously want to challenge you.” For rank, anyway. Or for me, either, though I was seriously starting to doubt his claim that he was willing to share. “He doesn’t understand what he’s going through. He hasn’t thought it out.”

Neither had I.

Marc continued squirting while I tried not to squirm. “Well, that explains why none of us saw this coming. But it won’t take him long to understand. I just wish I knew what flipped his switch. Ethan’s death was a huge blow, but still…”

I shrugged, my heart thumping miserably. “They’ve been best friends since they were five. They did everything together. Until he died, Jace was happy to do whatever Ethan wanted. Kicking bad-guy ass, chasing skirts, and partying. But now all that’s gone. Now this Pride is his whole life, and I think he wants to give it everything he has. Even if he doesn’t know that’s what he’s doing. And when you were missing he really stepped up and probably surprised himself. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t want to go back from there.”

Marc made a noncommittal sound. “Do you think your dad’s noticed the change in him?”