Chapter 36
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Iris
M y skin radiates heat as I wobble down the stairs in the dress that’s so bland and not me it’s got to be something for show because it isn’t something that in any way fits my image of Freya.
This is the type of dress Mom would love to dress me in for day-to-day business if she had her way. Not jeans or my skirts or even my style of dress, but something generic.
Something that says blend in and good girl, all in one.
Of course, Mom wouldn’t even dress me in or any of us in something like this for an afternoon out or a picnic that’s part of the Season, she’d want something more flattering and stylish.
She has taste.
Just not my taste.
I grip the door frame, trying to reset my equilibrium. It has nothing to do with the dress and everything to do with Killian in the office.
The things he said, hinted at, turn me inside out and make that newly awaked sexual beast in me salivate.
Maybe it’s the dregs of heat, but I doubt it. These men were undoing parts of me since the moment Mr. Scarsby first danced with me. Just the thought of that makes my stomach dip and soar.
I look at the door, but the two men are talking and then Emmie calls out. “Icy, lookit what me and Freya did!”
My phone buzzes as I veer toward the little girl, and I glance at the message.
Mari
Head’s up, I hope you’re out of heat and finished…everything.
Mari’s text makes my cheeks burn. Of course she knows I never made it to Pen’s. I’m going to owe her big time after this.
Mari
You need to get to Penrith’s now. Heath’s on the warpath with you not being home.
Heath can go and be an old man elsewhere.
Mari
Easy for you to say when you’re not home. I’m doing my best, but Mom wants to see you.
Guilt eats at me with that.
Just keep everyone calm. Be home tonight.
She sends a little saluting emoji, and I roll my eyes.
It’s easier than letting everything she said sink right down. Just like it’s easier to pretend I’m home, where I belong.
No, that’s not right. I want to pretend I’ve finally found my place. I take a breath and acknowledge the atmosphere. Cool, unreadable, a sense of walls.
Except, of course, from the sweetest kid, Emmie, who might have a touch of Rue about her, a much younger Rue.
“Icy!”
“Coming,” I say putting perk in my voice and step.
But that step’s interrupted as my phone buzzes again. And my heart crumbles down into something like a mix of love and relief. Violet.
“Hey—”
“Where are you?” Violet says, cutting me off, her panic surging.
It’s so palpable I can almost taste it over the phone.
“I’m at?—”
“Don’t say Pen’s,” she whispers. In the background, Stephan urges her to sit down. “Mari filled me in already.”
Of course she did.
“Heath’s just been to Penrith’s and no one’s there or answering the phone. I’m trying to remember if she’s out of town this weekend or next, but I can’t check and ask Stephan. He’ll want to know why.”
“You didn’t tell him?” I grip the phone hard as Emmie starts to pout, and I offer her a big smile as I point to the phone. Guilt eats at me. Lying to her mate will stress Vi out. “Vi, I?—”
“If I ask, he might say something. He’s Heath’s friend.”
I squeeze my eyes shut a moment. “I don’t want you stressed or lying, Vi.”
“Things are fine,” she says, firmly as she can. “He knows something is up, but he said, with whatever’s going on, it’s a don’t ask, don’t tell situation.”
My sister would cover, but I’d be the one causing problems. Stressing her out.
And I can’t do that.
“What do I do?” I ask. “If Penrith’s is out. Any suggestions.”
“You could?—”
“No,” I say, “I can’t say I’m with you.”
“But—”
“Violet, this is my mess, and I’m not messing with you, Stephan, and the baby.”
“You wouldn’t be.”
Killian throws me a dark look as he goes to Emmie and admires her picture, and I look to the door, my heart twisting as those shocking blue eyes of Xavier burn deep.
Okay?
I hear just one word in my head, and I nod. I’m still unsure how we’re able to do that, but I’ve concluded it being the mark’s doing.
I wonder if Violet and Stephan can communicate this way, too. They do always seem to be on the same page with things.
Why couldn’t school teach us shit like this?
“What about Quinn?” Vi says. Then she lowers her voice. “Where are you?”
It’s all like a punch to my guts. Killian gives me one more dark glance before returning to talk with Xavier.
I edge to the end of the bar where Freya’s now distracting Emmie.
I let out a breath. “I’m?—”
“No,” Vi says. “I changed my mind, don’t tell me. Talk with Quinn.”
I move to the other end of the bar, the scents of both Xavier and Killian twining into something super potent.
Not overpowering or decimating to bring a vulnerable girl to her knees like they were when I was in heat, but something new, a new scent that now coils in deep, the lemon and blackberry spice with leather, a scent of secrets and sex and warm lazy days, of secrets and nighttime trysts all bundled into one and it makes each breath somehow dangerous…
because I know what lives behind that scent.
And I want it.
But I push past it, try to concentrate and grab the back of a chair on the far side of the bar, a shadowy corner that offers nothing like protection.
Not that I want that, at least from these two men.
“Quinn’s mom, her sisters, would know I wasn’t there.”
“Would they?” Violet sighs. “Her place is huge, bigger than even our country estate, Iris. Bigger than Stephan’s seaside mansion.”
Even though the situation is dire, I half grin. Stephan’s? Hers, too. And he’d get mad hearing that from her. I’m not surprised though, it’s pure Violet.
“Or come here, I’ll send?—”
“I’ll call Quinn,” I say.
And I hear her let go of a breath.
“You guys used to disappear in different parts of that mansion,” she says, a little easier now. “And Quinn’s mom never knew where you both were. Mom would always send me and Heath to get you back.”
Vi’s right. She’s always right, always trying to do the correct thing, even now. And while someone in heat would be a stretch, Quinn loves a challenge, and…
I trail off with my thought.
Heath?
“Heath.” I groan.
“What about him?”
“Do you think he’s gone there yet?” I ask. “To check?”
“Last resort, if you ask me. My point is as long as Quinn knows you need a cover, then it might help. I can tell him…”
“Vi.” I half laugh. “You can’t lie to Heath. You’d have a panic attack. Besides, he’d know.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’d stress yourself out, which would mean that Stephan would hate me?—”
She laughs. “Okay, okay. I’ll just say I spoke to you, but I didn’t ask.”
“I’ll contact her now. Don’t stress or worry, Vi?—”
“I want you happy,” she says quietly. “You know I don’t like rules that try to put you in a box, but there’s nothing to be done.”
There is, but she could never be involved. Even if she wasn’t pregnant, I’d never put her and Stephan in that position.
“This isn’t your issue,” I say. “I don’t want it to be. Thank you, Vi. I’ll call Quinn.”
Of course, my best friend doesn’t answer. So I send her a text.
Answer me! I need your help.
It takes her an agonizing minute to respond.
Quinn
For what? Sorry, Iris. Total hell here. Explain later. What’s up?
Hell? I chew my lip.
Was gonna ask if I can I say I was with you this week?
Quinn
Duh. Mother and the evil sisters are away with Dad—Europe. They’re mate-hunting.
And you didn’t want to go?
I’m distracting myself.
Quinn
With them? Mate hunting? Gross. Answer’s god no. What’s up? The QB’s noted your lack public outings…
I suck in a breath.
Tell you later, too complicated via text. Heat. Avoid my bro.
Quinn
!!!!
Done and done.
Thnx
Quinn
I rule, I know. When are you coming here?
I’ll send heads up. Maybe a few hours, maybe sooner?
Quinn
At least you’ve got it narrowed down. Also we need to come up with a plan. I hate the QB. She’s on about you being mixed up with the Shades.
I hate her too. See you soon.
“Icy!”
I hurry over to Emmie and admire her coloring in again, and the little pictures she drew especially the one of me where my stick figure is holding the hand of Emmie and a frighteningly huge Delores is with us.
“That’s great!”
“Iris?” Killian’s voice is soft and yet commanding, and I immediately turn. “We need to work out where to take you and when?—”
“No…Icy lives with us.” She frowns and looks at Xavier. “No, Papa, she will live with me. Won’t you, Icy?”
My heart squeezes, and I run a hand over the little girl’s blonde hair, a lump unexpectedly forming in my throat.
I’m about to say something when someone raps on the door, and it bursts open.