I opened my eyes, and Jace came into focus in one of them. The other showed only a slit of light that was painful to look at. “Did they get away?” I demanded, clutching his arm, though my grip sent pain shooting through my left shoulder—evidently Dean had tried to rip my arm from its socket. “Manx and Kaci? And Des?”

“As far as I know, they’re fine,” Jace said, and my next breath sent an echo of pain throughout my body. Was it possible to literally hurt all over? “Let the doctor look at your ribs.”

I laid back and let them pull my shirt up, and bit my lip to keep from screaming when the doctor touched my side. “Where’s Marc?”

“He’s keeping your mother occupied. She’s pretty upset.”

“My fault.” I licked my lips and tasted more blood. “I thought I could at least hold my own.”

Jace interlaced his fingers with mine. “Faythe, he picked you up over his head and threw you at the ground. There’s not much you can do after that. Not much any of us could have done in your position.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t break your back.” Dr. Carver sat on the other side of the bed and aimed a penlight at my eyes. “Or your shoulder. You have at least one cracked rib and a broken nose. Does anything else feel broken?”

I closed my eyes and tested all my joints. Most of them ached—some of them throbbed with a sharp, pins-and-needles feeling—but everything functioned. “Just my head.”

“You got lucky there.” Jace ran one hand softly down my arm over and over, petting me for comfort. “Marc stopped the fight before he could kick your face in. He was going to kill you. We could all see it. He was fucking high on power.”

I didn’t remember that. All I remembered, other than the pain was… “Marc roared.”

“Yeah, and he took Dean down in a running tackle. Though to be fair, I was right behind him. And so were Vic and Parker.”

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you guys?”

Jace’s eyes widened, then his lips turned up in a sly grin. “Actually, no.”

“Well, I hate to break up the tender moment—” Dr. Carver said, looking anything but sorry “—but your nose is broken, and I need to set it.”

I winced. “Doesn’t that sound like fun…”

Jace shrugged. “It’ll hurt like hell for a minute, but then it’ll feel better. And if you don’t do it, you’re gonna look like Rocky for the rest of your life.”

“Fine. Just get it over with.”

Dr. Carver helped me sit up, then waited until he was sure I could stay balanced on my own. When I was sure I wasn’t going to throw up, I nodded and closed my eyes. “Okay, here we go…” he warned.

The next moment was a burst of pain in the center of my face, and the grating sound of bone against bone. I screamed. Then it was over. It still hurt, but less than before, and was easily overwhelmed by the pain in the rest of my body.

“Faythe?” The bedroom door opened and Marc came in, followed by my mother, whose face was red from crying.

My mom sniffled and wiped her tears with a damp tissue. “Is she okay?”

“She’s going to live,” the doc said. “But she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a long time.”

Jace stood so my mother could sit by me, and the moment I saw her face, I burst into tears. “I’m so sorry! I lost it. I lost the whole Pride. Everything Daddy worked for…”

“Not everything.” Marc stood over her shoulder, his face carefully blank, which was my first clue that mine must look pretty bad. Well, actually, my first clue was my swollen-shut eye and the mass of puffy, sticky pain that my nose had become. “I don’t think you’ll lose many of the toms. But we did lose the house.”

“What?” I tried to sit, and the doctor pushed me firmly back onto the pillow by one shoulder. I hissed when pain shot through the joint, and he let me go. “How can we lose the house? This is our house. Dad’s house. He designed it. His company built it.”

Marc sighed and my mother’s eyes watered. “He paid for it in part with the Pride’s money. With the tithes, just like our salaries.”

“We thought that was only fair.” My mom blotted her eyes again. “We thought the property should belong to the entire Pride, rather than just the core family, so everyone would always know they were welcome.”

I’d had no idea. How could I not have known? “Is that even enforceable? I’m assuming the deed doesn’t list thirty-something names on it, right? Just yours and Daddy’s?”

“That’s right, but it still belongs in part to the Pride, and it’s in the Pride’s territory. We could offer to buy out the Pride’s half, but I doubt the new leadership will let that happen without an actual fight. And even if they did, it would take a while to work those details out. And we still couldn’t live here—inside the territory—without submitting to the new ‘authority.’”

“And that’s not gonna happen. So…this isn’t my room anymore?” I sat up, and that time they let me. My gaze roved my shelves, my books, my dresser, and my desk. My CDs and my computer. The shelf Marc had hung for me…

“Not unless you feel like pledging loyalty to Kenton Pierce.” Marc spoke through gritted teeth. His pupils were vertical slits in the glittering golden brown of his irises. “But I think in your case, that would come with certain obligations.”