Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Iris
I ’m already trembling with a mixture of anger and arousal. I’m feverish and overwhelmed by unfettered scents in the air. The fresh and somehow erotic zing of blackberries infused with lemon is somehow tangled with freshly tanned leather and smoke.
I didn’t know anyone else was here. I didn’t know we were being watched.
I know that leather scent. My heartbeat speeds up with recognition the moment it hits my nose. And I know that mountainous man trying to blend in with the shadows.
He’s still big, still handsome, still silent.
Are all Alphas from this part of Sabine drop-dead gorgeous with a murderous edge?
I need to get out more.
“Oh, look,” I say. “Mr. Scarsby is with Mr. Asshole. Nice.”
Of course, I totally missed the opportunity to say lovers, boyfriends. Because…maybe they are. Maybe that radar in me is so off I’m not reading the room correctly.
But I cross my arms and hold my ground as I stare them both down.
“Mr. Scarsby?” he chuckles and glances at the man from across the room. “But Mr. Asshole was my father. I prefer Mr. Black. Killian Black.”
Black? Like the name of the bar?
Makes sense. Especially when coupled with his business owner comment before.
“I should go?—”
“Icy wants to go, Xavier. Should we let her?” Killian says.
I could almost swear he answers even though he doesn’t speak. The air seems to vibrate, and Killian’s expression changes slowly.
“He says yes, but I’m not convinced. What if you make a complaint to your Monarch?”
My eyes narrow. “She’s not my anything. Just because I’m being forced to take part in this idiotic ritual doesn’t mean I like it. I don’t. It’s an outdated, stupid tradition.”
Xavier moves fluidly to the bar and helps himself to a drink.
It’s now, in the light of the bar, that I see how ugly the scar that crosses his neck is, right over his larynx. The bar’s light shines up from beneath the edge, and even though the tattoos across his skin partly cover it, there’s nothing that can fully hide it.
I’m fascinated, horrified, just because I want to know what happened. My heart breaks because it’s obvious the scar’s old, meaning it happened when he was young. Very young.
A boy going through something like that… It’s sickening.
“So,” Killian asks, that silky voice light and dangerous as it flirts with the edges of me, setting my pulse thumping hard and fast, “you were sent here by the Council? To…what?”
“If you’ve got a hard-on about the Council that’s not my problem.” Part of me wants to blurt out the truth—that I was running from the Monarch’s meeting—but it sounds silly, immature, even to me.
“Then what has you visiting our neck of the city?” Killian looks at me. “While dressed to the nines but looking like you’re walking to the gallows.”
Because that’s exactly what it feels like.
I sigh, shoulders sinking. “You wouldn’t understand.”
When I glance at Xavier, I find he’s staring at me. The intensity of it makes the blood in me start to vibrate. A smile plays on his mouth, and once again I’m fighting my lungs to breathe.
Then I turn slowly back to Killian, whose smugness should be a turn off, but isn’t. When his gaze rakes over me, I start to shake.
These men are lethal.
I’ve met, I think, the real Xavier, the man who danced with me, light and soft on his feet. I haven’t met the real Killian.
But I’ve seen him.
With Emmie.
Xavier’s hands start to dance in front of him, and it takes me a second to realize he’s using sign language to communicate with Killian.
He’s…deaf? I didn’t see any hearing-aids, but that doesn’t mean anything. He could be really good at reading lips.
Either way, Killian understands him because he laughs at whatever Xavier tells him.
“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs,” I snap.
“Be careful, Xav. She’s coming for you next,” Killian says.
More quick hand gestures from Xavier, but this time, his expression doesn’t look pleased.
“No, I’ll say whatever I want.” Then he offers the other Alpha a slash of a smile. “Iris can take it.”
The double meaning to his words zaps electricity straight to my core. Images of the both of them caging me in, pulling off my clothes, and touching me in my most private places flash in my mind.
I swallow hard.
“So, Iris,” Killian starts, “humor me, because now I’m curious. What do you think about mixed relationships? Say…a Beta and an Alpha. Or an Omega and a Delta. Disgusting?”
Or two Alphas?
My cheeks get hot with his words. “I don’t make the rules, but I also don’t think anyone should tell anyone what makes the ‘right’ relationship. If all the adults a willing, it shouldn’t matter.”
“But what about biology?” He waits a beat. “Omegas need an Alpha’s knot to help them with their heat. A Delta can’t do that. They won’t be able to have any children.”
Xavier’s fist bangs on the bar, and I jump. He’s giving Killian a warning, which he ignores.
“Isn’t that against the word of your Monarch?” he asks.
He’s right. It’s wrong, all of it, according to the Council.
We learn the importance of our hierarchy and pack life at school, how Omegas were made to be with Alphas because we’re the only ones who can take their knot and bear their kids.
Believe it or not, the Monarch is actually more modern than most, but when it comes to the Council, tradition always wins out.
But there are exceptions. Look at Quinn’s dad and Mrs. Hyde. They’re mated and she’s an Omega and he’s a Beta. Sure it’s their second mate bond, but they have to be making it work. Even with Mrs. Hyde’s heats…
Thinking about that vile woman in such an intimate way makes me want to vomit, so I shake the thoughts out of my head.
“You’re still young. Na?ve.” Killian strides behind the bar and pours himself another drink.
“And you’re a dick,” I say the same time as Xavier signs to him.
Then, he pauses, pulls out a pad of paper and a pen, and scribbles something down before sliding it across the counter to me.
I look at it.
Jinx.
“You two seem to think alike.” Killian scowls. “Xavier may look mean, but he’s soft when it comes to pretty girls.”
“Look, Papa, Daddy!”
I turn. Emmie has been changed out of her dirty dress and now wears pretty pink jeans and a matching top.
And in her hands is the biggest bowl of ice cream I’ve ever seen, topped with chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles.
As she struggles to carry it and Delores, she walks inside and comes around the bar.
When she sees me still here, her entire face lights up. Her smile radiates. “Icy, you stayed!”
“Icy was just about to leave,” mutters Killian.
“I got me some ice cream,” she says, admiring her bowl. Then she holds it out. “Do you want some?”
“Uh, I’m not?—”
Emmie tries to hurry over but trips over Delores’s hanging leg. The bowl flies and lands on my stomach, spilling the ice cream all over my dress, ruining it.
I gasp in horror, and as the bowl falls, Emmie bursts into tears.