Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Stephan
I remember this fucking estate.
The four floors, the countless rooms, the attic and basement where secrets sit in trunks and boxes, none of which are mine. I spent some winters here growing up, when I was too young to understand society decorum and thought the place a maze to be explored.
Now, it’s just the epitome of everything the Council stands for. And I hate it.
I follow Frederick up to the room that really should hold a throne, one so large and empty yet crammed full of invisible things.
History, honor, rules, suffocating demands.
When the golden doors open, I step in.
There’s a big cream-colored leather chair, silver-edged, curved and high-backed, in the center toward the back, situated on a black rug.
On the floor next to the chair are her discarded high heels, and an open bottle of bourbon—the fucking one I like that comes from the depths of the South—rests on a small white round side table.
There’s no other furniture, just cleverly hidden lamps that bathe her starkly white hair in soft golden light. The huge picture window behind her acts like the dramatic backdrop to the evening, light that bleeds to sparkles, to black, and then the glitter of stars.
In Sophine’s elegant hand is a tablet, and I’m betting she’s watching the ball from her many hidden security cameras.
Was she watching me?
Must have been.
And the pretty vixen whose hand I held, the girl from the boathouse. I recognized her the moment I walked in. I could smell her, even though she had on a full blocker. I could sense the strange void tinged around the edges of her natural floral scent. For some reason, her violets slither through the blocker. At least to me.
Violet.
Heath had been hanging with his family near the refreshment table, with his mother and two other young Gardener Omegas, one of them being the youngest, Rue. Heath looked stressed beyond belief, so talking to him at that moment wasn’t going to happen.
But I was drawn to Violet, the vivacious woman dressed in bronze with a sleek feline mask.
Her touch still zinged beneath my skin, the coldness that turned hot under my hand. The way her pulse pounded in her neck, the swell of small and perfect breasts. Her smell was sweet, floral, and… Shit. I can still smell it here, as if it has branded itself inside my nostrils.
I want to get back to her. But instead, I’m here, facing down the Monarch and her Omega manservant who’s hovering by her side.
Sophine doesn’t look up as I approach, and I’m getting more annoyed by the second. Why summon me up here just to have me wait around? I should be downstairs with?—
“You’ve always been impatient, Stephan,” she says, her crystal-blue eyes lifting finally. “Too quick to jump without thinking about the consequences.”
Knowing that she’s talking about CeeCee, about how I fled Sabine to be with her, despite the Monarch’s rules, I grind my teeth.
“You really are a battle-ax, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never been called that before,” she says. The nickname doesn’t seem to faze her at all, and that only angers me more.
I’ll never fucking forget what she did. And I’ll never forgive her.
“Stephan,” she begins, “why are you on my island again?”
Her island. I huff at that.
“I’m here for entertainment, Monarch, nothing more.”
“How’s Penrith?”
“Ask her yourself.”
“Watch your tongue, Stephan. I’m your?—”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That’s what you are.”
“What the blazes are you upset about now? You’ve made money, whored yourself out to the world, and now you’re mad because I asked about Penrith? You came back for the summer, crashed this Season’s second event, and without an invitation, I might add… And you’re dressed like you’re participating in the Season. Like you’re looking for a mate. Have you finally come to your senses?”
I scoff. “I’m not looking for a mate.”
Sophine hands her glass to her Omega, slides a finger across the tablet’s screen, and then she starts to type on the virtual keyboard at a feverish pace.
“Oh, but you are. As of now. I’ve added you to the list of eligible Alphas for this Season.”
She’s kidding. She’s got to be kidding.
As if reading my mind, she flips the screen so that I can see it. And there’s my stage name right at the top of the list—Asher St. James.
Fuck.
A growl rumbles low in my throat. “I’m not on the market. Never will be.”
She stands to her full imposing height, her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t Emporia. You can’t play a role here. So now, I expect you to take part, be a gentleman, court one of the many pretty Omegas, maybe find a mate.”
“Screw you. I had a mate.”
“Language!” Sophine snaps. “You need a more fitting mate.”
Rage coils in my gut.
More fitting? I loved CeeCee. Even if she wasn’t an Omega, she was everything to me.
“You bi?—”
But her stare stops me in my tracks, spiked with a silent threat. As much as I want to curse her, I know—from experience—it will only hurt me way more than help. She holds too much power as the Council leader, the Monarch, or whatever.
Frederick steps forward and presses a mini tablet in a sleek leather case into my hand.
I close my fingers around it, my muscles stiff.
That’s when a slow, satisfied smile lifts her lips. “Welcome to the Season, Stephan.”
Girls swamp me when I get back into the ballroom. One squeals, fangirling, and a blonde dressed like a bird starts pushing them all out of the way, grabbing for my mini pad.
“A dance for me, Mr. St. James?” she asks.
“Me first!” another Omega barks.
“Over my dead body.”
This is worse than I thought. I’m fairly used to the attention of fans in Emporia, but even those women know I’m not looking for anything serious. Thanks to Sophine, I now have a big target painted on my chest to every mate-hungry Omega.
“This way, asshole.” Heath has my arm and drags me into the men’s room, an outdated lounge area thick with cigar smoke and full of older mated men and bachelors.
“Thanks, man.” I slap him on the back. “I owe you one.”
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Had to steal all the attention for yourself,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not from his tone .
“The battle-ax fed me to the lions.”
“The Monarch?” he asks. “What happened?”
“She added me as one of the Season’s available bachelors.”
“Shit.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Yeah.”
Gaze dancing across the smoke-filled room, he leans close and whispers, “So I’m guessing you haven’t had the chance to scope out the competition then?”
“Not the competition—I’m not really on the market, no matter what Sophine says. But no, I haven’t had much of a chance. I’ll find out more. We can go to one of the bars, see who’s there.” At his raised brow, I add, “Our part of town. Like a club. Then when you go, I can see what’s said.”
“Okay, okay.”
The sister I’d seen Heath talking to earlier walks through the door and comes bouncing up to us. Her hair’s light, almost golden, and cropped short at the shoulders. Freckles kiss her cheeks and across her nose, and I can’t help but think about how she would glow on screen.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Heath says to her.
“I don’t care.” She shrugs and then looks at me. “Who’s your wolfy friend, Heath? He looks familiar… Oh, right! You’re the one who tried to crush Rue. Can’t be done. She said you thought you were famous or something, but… Got it—you’re Asher St. James from Knot a Chance . I loved that movie.”
“His name is Stephan. The other’s his screen name,” Heath says .
She ignores him. “But how do you know the stone formally known as Heath?”
“This is Marigold, the third-eldest sister at eighteen.” Heath gestures to the girl.
“Hey,” I say.
“Call me Mari.”
“Better yet, don’t call her at all.” Heath glares.
“Are all your sisters here?” I ask.
“Yes, I lost that battle. Mom’s here, too. It’s a nightmare,” he says as Mari elbows him. “Now, Iris is…” Heath frowns. “Actually, I don’t know where Iris is. She and Dahlia were helping calm Violet down. I think she’s a little overwhelmed. She’s?—”
“Prone to panic attacks?”
“No.” Heath blinks, as if he’s wondering how I came to that conclusion. “She just isn’t used to the spotlight, that’s all. Unlike you.”
Now I’m really intrigued by Miss Violet Gardener. When I’d seen her before, she was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown. It’s probably why she was hiding herself behind a plant. Yet, she’s managed to keep her anxiety hidden from her own brother? From the rest of her family?
Damn. She must be a better actor than I thought. Award-worthy.
My next question is why?
What other secrets is she holding?
I want to find out.
Looks like it’s time for me to find her and collect that dance I was promised.