Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Iris
R ue bobs along, excitement coming off her with each step, and I’m not sure whether it’s for the barbecue or for the article by the Queen Bee, where she swears she’s mentioned. I’ve looked at it sideways, and it’s so generic a description that it could fit any young Omega.
“Sparks by the Fire,” she says, whipping back and spreading her hands. “Can you think of anything more sexy?”
“Rue.” Mom’s voice snaps like a hand against a cheek.
Not that she’d ever hand out that kind of discipline. Her tone and verbiage are enough, thank you.
My little sister turns her million-watt smile on Mom. “It means glamour, Mom.”
Then she turns back and bounces harder, faster, towards a gaggle of girls her age.
“At least she’s got new friends,” Mom mutters.
“This could be French,” Mari whispers to me, her dress darkly floral. It’s somehow both romantic and dramatic, fitting in with the theme. But honestly, Mari could wear anything and be the most dazzling person in the room. She just has that glow. “All the little tables, the parasols.”
“The smell of barbeque ribs and potato salad filling the air,” I tease.
She pulls my hand, tugging me away from Mom as Heath chats to some Alpha. The guy slides looks my way.
Dahlia follows Mom, always dutiful, her violin case in one hand.
“I just think with the old architecture, the square’s got a European feel.” Mari plonks down on a seat at a table on the edge of the square, the waterfall either adding or taking from the theme. A barbecue is very much a mainland thing, and more on the exotic end here. Sabine is weird.
She puts her bag on the table and pulls out her sketchbook and pencils.
“I like it,” she says, “that’s all.”
I snort. “You would.”
“Are you going to bring down scandal like that Queen Bee says?” Mari’s pencil moves over the black page, filling it with a life that the reality of the scene doesn’t have.
Or maybe it does. Perhaps she’s exposing the inner life she sees below the perfect surfaces.
She’d say that’s what she’s doing, anyway.
“I just want to be left alone. You know I hate the whole breeding thing.”
She finishes drawing Alicia, who’s beautiful, calculating, and man-hungry, although I think we all know that.
“The ‘breeding thing,’ as you put it, is part of our nature. Omega and Alpha.” She flicks to another page.
I grit my teeth as bright red hair catches my attention, and I wave at Quinn across the square. “So you can’t wait?” I ask Mari.
“Did I say that?” Mari’s mouth turns down. “I didn’t. I’m commenting on what’s expected and the facts of what we are.”
“I’m not a breeding machine.”
She puts her pencil down. “I didn’t say that, either. But we have duties, obligations and?—”
“Is me—am I…” a small voice says to the left of my elbow, almost sending me shooting out of my seat. “—is I?” The little voice gives up. “What is a beading sheen?”
A small girl, tiny and chubby-cheeked with golden hair in curls, veers to stand in front of me. She’s wearing a grass-stained white dress and has big, dark eyes that are an inky blue, and her rosebud mouth is on the verge of a pout. The girl can’t be more than three or four.
I tug one of her curls gently. “Uh, they’re for making clothes sparkle.”
I’m not describing what breeding machine is to a baby.
Just like I’m not telling my sisters or even Quinn about the stranger in the empty room at the ball. The man who seemed to speak with his body, who?—
Wasn’t anyone at all.
The kid squeals in little girl laughter. “I don’t need sparkle.” She announces this like she’s all the sparkle in the world so why ruin it with extra?
She doesn’t look like one of the well-behaved kids here, and she’s in white, not something dark.
As Quinn reaches us, another woman—a Delta, I know, from her industrial-like scent of lemon wood polish—arrives.
She might be the coolest woman I’ve seen, with lime green streaked hair chopped short.
She’s in jeans and a skintight top and has tattoos running down her arms in pretty, swirling designs.
“Christ, kid, you’re more slippery than an oiled fish,” the Delta says. Her gaze offers silent apologies.
“I’m not a fish,” the girl says.
The woman takes her hand. “Say thank you and goodbye, Em. We gotta get home.”
“Tank you and goodbye.” The child cranes her neck, clearly taking in all the finery. “Is this a party? I want a party. Stay? Please?”
“Your parents want you home, bug. I’ll get you an ice cream on the way. How about that?” The woman scoops her up and takes her off, disappearing into a street behind us.
Quinn looks at me and Mari. “Who was that?”
“Lost kid?” Mari shrugs. “It’s why Iris is against being breeding fodder.”
“Everyone’s against that.” Quinn folds her arms.
“Yeah,” I say, “and biting. Not a fan.”
The moment I say it, a shiver runs down to my marrow and heats me from the inside. What would it be like to be bitten by that big, handsome stranger? Not bitten as in marked, but maybe nibbled on. That’s a thing, isn’t it?
“Same,” Quinn mutters, while Mari just continues to draw. “My mother has kidnapped yours. She’s hoping to host a ball this Season?—”
“You’re so rich,” I say, “that the Monarch will let that happen. Right?”
Quinn rolls her eyes. “You’d be surprised. We’re rich but not Omegas, so…” Another shrug.
“Your brother is an Alpha,” I say.
“Brendon? Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s off in another world practically.”
“It’s just college.”
“Grad school,” she corrects. “Abroad. I haven’t seen him in years. He doesn’t even come home for holidays.”
With Mrs. Hyde as his mother, I don’t blame him.
“Mom’s looking to befriend the Luxe’s mother,” Quinn goes on. “And her money’s on you being the Monarch’s pick, Iris.”
Spare me.
“Me? But she knows me.” I shake my head, right as an Alpha candidate heads our way. I wasn’t shaking my head at him, but his shoulders drop and he stops, turning away.
I secretly smile. Looks like I’m getting a reputation of unattainable. Perfect.
“She’s betting on the pull of Stephan and your sister to get you on at least the short list,” Quinn says, “if not the Luxe.”
“Oh, Lord.” I plop in the chair next to Mari.
As time goes on, Quinn and Mari chatter. Mom’s going to be disappointed I’m sitting so far from the rest of the crowd. She would say I should at the very least mingle.
But why? Everyone I like is right here.
Violet mated beyond well, but it veered close to scandal. There are those who still whisper and spin things to their advantage, even now. They try anything to push our family down.
I’m not a threat, and my sisters, with maybe the exception of fifteen-year-old Rue, aren’t either. Dahlia will do her duty, maybe even get out of her Season by winning a scholarship from some school on the mainland. And we all know Mari will have no problem finding a mate.
Rue wants this. Rue longs for this.
I just want to slide through it by not being picked by the Monarch. And I think if I ignore all guys who come after me, she’ll drop me from the running like I’m radioactive.
But really, right now, I wish Violet was here. She’s always had this uncanny ability to see the good in every shitty situation. And I wish Stephan would let her out from his fussing.
She’s pregnant, not fragile.
“So, your mother wants to host a ball in someone else’s name?” Marigold asks Quinn.
My friend sighs dramatically. “Can’t you just see the scathing things that hack Queen Bee will say about that?”
“I find her Stitches entertaining,” Mari says. “And Rue’s addicted.”
“Rue’s addicted to it all,” I mutter. “If it’s trashy, she’s first in line.”
“Right?” Quinn snickers. “Queen Bee is trashy with a giant T.”
Mari flips the sketchbook shut. “And everyone’s entertained by her. Plus, she annoys the Monarch.” My sister pauses. “She…or he.”
“He?” I ask, leaning forward. It isn’t something I’ve thought about much, but it could be a guy behind the screen. Really, it’s hard to miss the Queen Bee buzz. It’s not like anyone on this pampered island has anything else to think about. Or, at least, this part of Sabine. “You think it’s a guy?”
“Who knows, which is the fun of it, right?” Mari flashes a smile. She gathers her pens. “Our dear brother’s headed this way, and I’m not in the mood for his dark cloud.”
“Is anyone?” Quinn mutters.
Mari flashes her brilliant signature Mari smile. “You don’t have to live with him. Sooo, I’m going to drag Rue off before she gets in trouble?—”
I follow her gaze to where our little sister is walking on the edge of the fountain. Mom hasn’t seen her…yet.
“—and see if Dahlia needs help getting ready. Maybe she needs some kind of pep talk. It’s been a while since she’s played violin.”
I shrug. “She can play anything.”
“But it’s piano all the time now.” Mari heads off, some of the Alphas following her with their gazes.
Quinn makes a sound as she sits up. “Those guys aren’t subtle at all.”
I roll my eyes. “They’re just all on the hunt for a mate. Pathetic sheep.”
“Stop that,” Heath snaps as he comes to a stop at the table.
“Stop what?” I ask sweetly. “Stop having opinions?”
Quinn pushes out a seat with her foot. “Heather, a true pleasure, as always. Sit. I’ll braid your hair.”
“I didn’t know carrots spoke.” He casts her a dismissive look and ignores the chair. “I suggest they stay silent and go hide from the dinner platter.”
“What are you on about?” Quinn kicks the chair into him.
He pushes it out of the way and leans into her. “Get. Lost.”
“Rude.” She huffs and jumps up, racing off in the direction Mari took.
“Rude is right.” I look him up and down. “Don’t you have someone else to be smug around?”
He follows Quinn with his gaze. “That kid’s gonna end up in serious trouble one day.”
“I don’t think Quinn’s going to like being called a kid.” I pause, then smile sweetly at my brother. “Can I go now?”
His eyes narrow. “Stop being a brat and talking shit, and stop dressing like you play in a band out of some low-life’s garage. You’re a Gardener.”