Chapter 18
Rafe drove to the front of the building, under an awning that blocked out the moon. A golden tint lit the venue, caused by the warm lighting. Tonight, while we were out, I’d find a way to contact Roberto. Some use had to come out of memorizing his number.
From the car ahead of us, two men exited, and one held open the door, while the other held his hand out. A small hand settled in his, and a long leg stretched out. He helped the woman up, steadying her as she balanced on her heels.
They treated her gently as they shuffled her forward with a besotted expression on their faces. A look my Alphas would never direct my way. My heart throbbed with acute pain.
I felt someone watching me and turned to meet Dorian’s unreadable gaze. He’d surprised me by sitting next to me, although he kept space between us to the point that it was noticeable.
“I know. I must behave,” I sniped, lowering my tone to mock him.
He continued to stare at me, so I turned away.
“Why do you want an Epad?” Dorian suddenly asked, taking me completely aback with the sudden question.
I studied him, debating how to answer. His expression remained bland, with the barest interest in his eyes.
“I miss drawing,” I admitted, offering them a hint of myself. Only a hint. I had to unless I wanted to be obvious about wanting access to the internet.
“You draw?” Cade asked loudly and turned in the passenger seat to pin me with his shocked attention.
I hummed, not elaborating. Digital art commissions were how I had money saved up. That and with Roberto’s help from opening up a bank account under his name for me to use.
“Draw me?” Cade murmured, wiggling his eyebrows.
My lips twitched, and I stifled my smile. It was getting easier and easier for him to make me smile, and that was dangerous.
“Maybe. But you’ll have to do as I say.” I said what I wanted to instead of remaining silent.
Cade chortled. “Oh ho, I’d be happy to follow orders.”
Rafe snorted and slid the car up the drive.
“Is this another auction?” I asked, watching the nicely dressed valet jog to Rafe’s side. He slid out and handed him the keys.
Dorian’s eyes flicked to mine, seeming irritated. “No.”
“It was just a question,” I mumbled. I reached for the door handle, but it opened before I could touch it. I raised my eyes to Cade.
He shook his waiting hand. Thick emotion throbbed in my throat, and I took his hand quickly before I made it more awkward. He helped me to my feet, and his arm slid around my waist, grazing my ass on the way. Since the dark green silk slip was so thin, I could feel his warmth radiating.
I pressed my lips together to contain my groan. His touch blazed a fire to life through me.
Cade guided me through the propped double doors into a lobby with arching columns and pristine tile that reflected light off them.
I kept my smile fixed. Everywhere I looked, people were dressed beautifully. Gowns, suits, heels—there was elegance in the fabric, jewels, and accessories. It reminded me of the sort of parties my father used to force me to attend.
The attendees slowly filed through the open double doors across from the entrance framed by two men dressed similarly to the valet.
Alpha and Omega scents mingled in the air, along with cloying perfume. All designations were in attendance. Dorian stepped ahead of us and shook the hand of the man standing right past the entrance, but my attention was already on the glamour of the decorations.
Dozens of round tables with white cloths covered the tables. The centerpieces consisted of a small vase of white roses.
“Ironwyld,” the man speaking to Dorian said, pleased. “Thank you for attending today.” He leaned closer. “And thank you for your donations.”
Dorian nodded tightly, squeezing his hand.
“Your table is right over there. You.” He snapped his fingers and a slim man dressed identically to the other servers scurrying around walked over.
“Yes, sir?”
“Please show the Ironwylds to their table.”
The red-haired guy turned toward us, keeping most of his focus on Dorian. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
He walked us to the left and strode closer to the stage.
I kept my gaze forward and chin lifted, not lingering on anything or anyone.
The redhead motioned to the table, waiting for us to sit.
No other chairs were available at our table.
Only four. Dorian held out a seat and raised an eyebrow.
Cade guided me to it with a palm on my ass.
“Cade,” I hissed. He ignored me and nudged me forward again.
I plopped onto the chair. Dorian sat next to me, and Rafe settled on my other side.
“I was going to sit there,” Cade groused moodily and strode to the chair on the other side of Rafe.
I remained silent and on edge. Mainly because this felt good. Being with them . . . around them.
“What is it?” Rafe asked. It took me a moment to realize he was speaking to me. I chewed on my lip and shook my head. He watched me with eyes that saw more than I thought they could.
The speakers hanging on the side of the stage crackled.
“Please welcome the Director of Child Services for the Orphanage Foundation,” a deep voice announced. A smattering of applause echoed through the auditorium. A woman with more gray than black hair strode across the stage toward the microphone perched on the holder.
The chatter softened, and once the lights dimmed, went silent.
“Thank you to all in attendance.” Each table was full of different pairings and across all age ranges.
“In honor of a few of our benefactors . . .” She droned on, and I only perked to attention when I heard their name.
“ . . . Ironwyld Pack, for the donations that have helped our children receive the best instructors and have their fundamental needs fulfilled.”
Dorian watched the speaker, but he didn’t really seem present. Rafe and Cade seemed just as lost in thought.
Based on what little Cade had told me, they had not had a happy childhood in the orphanage they’d grown up in. Now they were making sure it would be a more positive environment. And my heart squeezed.
I tuned out the rest of her speech, trying to shove down the sympathy, awe, and longing taking root.
My emotions were getting out of hand. And they’d become softer with me. Only two days of their kindness and I was buckling like a babe.
No.
No.
No!
After what they’d done . . . I wouldn’t give them their way. I almost forgot myself and my decision to contact Robert.
I leaned close to Dorian. “I have to go to the restroom,” I whispered.
He grunted and started to push up. I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in place. My touch seemed to rock through him.
“You can’t go into the bathroom with me. And it’s not like I’m going to try to escape. With what money?” I mumbled, laying it on thick.
I waited . . . and waited.
He finally sighed and nodded tightly.
“Five minutes,” he warned.
I didn’t bother saying anything. I stood, the end of my silk dress swaying around my knees.
On my way toward the exit, I kept on alert.
I wove through the tables, getting to the edge of the room so I wasn’t in the way.
The double doors were closed, but one of the Betas standing by them pulled one open for me.
I slipped through, and he shut it behind me, cutting off the rest of the director’s speech.
“Where is the bathroom?” I asked the doorman on this side. He waved a hand to the right. I debated asking him if I could borrow his phone, but it was best I was further from the door. There should be someone to ask in the restroom, or on the way to it.
I inclined my head in thanks and strode the way he motioned.
Leaving the lobby behind for a slimmer path, the chatter became less and less until all I heard were my heels grazing the carpet. The hall curved, and the sign for the restrooms loomed at the end.
Just at that moment, someone exited the men’s bathroom. He was one of the Alphas that had helped that woman out of the car ahead of ours. The besotted one.
His head was bowed, watching something on his phone.
“Excuse me?” I blurted. He came to a stop and motioned to himself. “Yes, I’m sorry for being a bother, but could I borrow your cell phone?”
His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down, swiped, then handed it to me. “Sure.”
I plucked it from his fingertips. “I won’t be long.”
Without wasting a moment, I navigated to the number screen and tapped Roberto’s number in. Nerves whirred in my stomach at the ringing of the line.
“Hello?” His familiar voice swept a wave of relief through my stomach.
“Roberto,” I breathed.
There was silence, then, “Eva?”
“Yes, it’s me. I—”
The device was snatched out of my hand.
“I wasn’t done . . .” I trailed off, meeting Dorian’s furious gaze.
My stomach dropped to my toes, and I parted my lips with an exhale.
He didn’t say anything but turned back to the Alpha waiting a few feet away. His curiosity was clear to see.
Dorian approached him, and aggression came off my Alpha in waves. Not mine. I flexed my palm against my hip, hoping to ground myself. The Alpha took back his phone, dominance wafting from him.
“Lady, do you need me to escort you to Omega authorities?” His question stunned me into silence. The U.S. authorities mean the ORD. Omega Rights Division. I knew little about the program other than it helped Omegas.
Dorian stiffened, his eyes narrowing, but he kept still.
“If you’re being mistreated. They will put a stop to it—”
Dorian growled, the abrupt sound exploding from his lips. His chest puffed out, and he got in the other Alpha’s face. Pheromones plumed, and my mouth watered. Meanwhile, my mind raced. Would the ORD help with mistreatment? Back home, there was no one to stop it . . .
Dorian’s fist clenched. He’d removed the bandages, so the cuts were raw and open, but at least no longer bleeding.