"Regina? What are you doing here?"
Cornell's startled voice echoed down the corridor before she even turned the handle. She hadn't even gathered herself when he stepped out and looked her up and down with a frown. "Why are you wearing a hospital gown? Are you sick too? What happened?"
Regina forced a smile, tugging the corners of her lips upward in practiced ease. "I'm fine. Just hit a pillar on my way out of work last night. Mild concussion. The doctor insisted I stay for observation."
The bruise on her forehead, a remnant from tumbling down the staircase during last night's chaos, lent credence to her story. Technically, she wasn't lying. Injuries weren't uncommon for someone with her bloodline—being Lycan-born meant faster healing, but not immunity to pain. Still, she had to say something, or Cornell wouldn't have believed her at all.
