Chapter 14
fourteen
DANE
The Blackwood Group Chat
Rhys
Alright assholes
Who’s been in my library?
Dane
I’ll give you one guess.
Rhys
That bitch.
I’m missing FOUR novels and there are FINGERPRINTS on my shelves
Cillian
Jesus Christ.
Dane
You have way too much time on your hands.
Rhys
Not as much as you, apparently.
Are you still lurking outside Briar’s door like a damn dog?
Dane
Fuck you.
Cillian
Not so fast, Rhys.
How do you know Dane is there? Unless you* wandered down near her room?
Rhys
Fuck you.
Cillian
Good talk, gentlemen.
“She takes her tea there every morning.”
My back snaps straight. Shit.
Our valet raises one glossy eyebrow, smirking at me as he balances a silver tray on his arm. I’ve got to hand it to Louis—it’s fairly difficult to sneak up on me. Then again, I might be in a bit of a trance.
Oblivious to my observation, Briar tilts her head at the book in her lap.
Her toes point elegantly when she crosses her ankles, resting them on the railing of the Omega Suite’s balcony.
Leaves from the tangle of rosebushes brush the soles of her feet and she flexes them absently, turning a page before flipping her hair to her other shoulder.
I watch, oddly fascinated. Why would she choose to sit on a balcony that doesn’t have a view? Does she like the rosebushes after all? Or is it simply as close as she can get to the gardens below?
Guilt squirms in my gut. I know Cillian forbade her from stepping foot outside because she’s a flight risk. I hate the notion of keeping her prisoner, but we’re not exactly anonymous figures. If she tried to bolt and the wrong people got hold of her…
More fuckers for me to kill.
Still, Cillian posting extra security at every exit to keep her locked in here feels wrong. There are also cameras. Like the one currently trained on Louis and me while we peer through the crack in her bedroom doors.
Briar sighs, her shoulders rounding when she reaches the end of the book in her hands and makes a face at it. I try not to notice how damn cute she looks with her nose scrunched. Not to mention the flawless flash of her thigh when she sits up and tosses the tome onto the small table beside her.
Hell. She moves like ink on water, all striking elegance and sensuous fluidity. I can’t make myself look away. Which is becoming a real goddamn problem, given the way I spent last night.
And the night before.
And every night since she got here last weekend.
My teeth grind, a fresh tide of shame rising. I really didn’t mean to start allowing myself into her room each night. And I definitely didn’t intend to let watching her sleep become a habit.
The first time, I only went in because I had to. My Alpha was climbing the walls inside me, pushing pure urgency into my bloodstream. I finally got up and went down to her room, certain I’d find the little omega held at gunpoint or something.
But no.
She was asleep.
And she was…
Enchanting.
I admit the word to myself, watching the way she sits forward, finding a small bald patch between vines so she can gaze out at the garden. Or perhaps the cliffs beyond.
That thought puts a growl under my next exhale. Louis gives me a pointed look as he bustles past. “Careful, sir,” he teases. “Your humanity is showing.”
This cocky omega is one to talk, considering how patently obvious his feelings for our alpha butler are. I don’t think anyone else has noticed, but stealth and observation are second-nature to me. I’ve seen the way Louis turns red every time the two men interact.
When I cross my arms over my chest and glower at our valet, he chuckles nervously. “Apologies, Mr. Dane. I’ll make sure Madame doesn’t know you’re out here, um, checking on her?”
He’s right to stick a question mark at the end of that statement. I have one in my own mind. Am I checking on her? Or is this something else? A compulsion? Blatant attraction?
All I know is, despite her scent being a pleasant tease instead of an overwhelming addiction, the voice in my middle wants me near her. And he was in a blind rage after whatever nightmare she had last night.
It was obviously agonizing. I had to force myself to leave to avoid intervening and giving my position away. Even then, distance from the omega didn’t help calm me down—I wound up in our gym, beating the shit out of a punching bag until well after dawn.
But it doesn’t matter how much my stupid cock or my stupider Alpha lust after this woman. She’s made it clear none of us are welcome to touch her—and she’s taking her sweet time deciding how she feels about Cillian’s proposed “deal.”
That’s probably for the best. How would any of us sleep with her on a regular basis without developing unhealthy attachments?
Says the guy sneaking into her room while she sleeps and stalking her while she drinks her tea.
Louis reads my mind somehow. His wry expression implies such a thing might be good for me. But I know better. Having any sort of emotional investment in Briar would only end in ruin for any of us—most of all me.
Because I’m fairly sure, if I ever got my hands on her, I’d never let go. Or kill myself trying to keep my distance.
God knows this house is haunted enough. We don’t need another ghost.