Jolie POV

He's already alarmed before I say a word. That's the mate bond—he felt the overflow of emotion from across the garage and he's scanning me now the way he does when he's looking for injuries, hands coming up to frame my face, checking my eyes, my skin, the silver glow at my edges.

"What happened," he says, not quite a question, voice dropping into that low, controlled register that means he's holding the edges of his temper very carefully. "Who hurt you."

"Nobody hurt me." I catch ...