Chapter 10 – Wave #2
So how the hell did she seem to have one? It must be a mistake. Some cosmic joke. And great, she was having a meltdown right here and now.
Fuck.
Blessedly, Salis seemed to miss it. That, or he tactically ignored her twitching hands and the frost covering her nails. He tapped something on his phone and then looked up again.
“Yes, he’ll be here in a second. I have to stay behind to talk to Dr. Johanson. You can’t go alone. You promised.”
“But—”
“Gravy boat,” Salis said, overriding her objections. “He’s on the Ginny-approved escort list.”
Wave wanted to argue more and plead for Salis’s interference, but Elisa chose that moment to slide over.
“So, Wayla—”
Salis coughed. “Lady Stormwell.”
“What?” Elisa scowled.
“The correct form of address is Lady Stormwell,” Salis replied calmly. He gave Wave a little finger wiggle to get going and when Elisa turned to argue with Salis, Wave took her opportunity to get the hell away.
Risha was waiting for her in the hallway and Wave felt a small flutter in her stomach as she took in his pressed shirt and slacks. He always dressed like he was heading to a boardroom meeting and Wave couldn’t really be mad about it.
Today, his white eyes emanated warmth, golden flecks swirling in them, and he crooked an arm for Wave. She took it and they started walking together. The hallway that had been abuzz a moment before was deadly quiet. All eyes followed them and a path cleared for them.
When Wave tried to pull in more of her aura, Risha growled under his breath. “Don’t you dare.”
“But—”
“No.” His tone was final and Wave felt her hackles rise. Before she could say anything, she heard someone mumble.
“He’s such a power whore. No wonder he dumped Elena for her.”
The rage that flared up was so strong and boiled over so fast that Wave lost the fine control of her aura and it dropped on everyone in the hallway with force.
Irishen’s widened eyes met hers and Wave tried to shrug.
So she had been holding it back a little more than she had let on and now it flowed, if not fully free, with some considerable punch.
They were talking shit about her maybe-fucking-mate. She couldn’t help it.
“Apologize, you nitwit,” someone else whispered in a pained tone.
“Sorry,” the first voice choked out.
After several deep breaths, Wave reeled her aura back to a more acceptable level.
A trickle of soothing ice caressed her while she settled down and she wanted to shiver and roll her shoulders but kept herself still.
It was about image. As long as they didn’t know that the slip in control was unintentional, it was all good.
She really, really, really needed to learn to keep her emotions in check. Irishen kept them moving and Wave’s mind kept running in endless loops.
Did he know they were mates? Or suspect? What if she was wrong?
They couldn’t be mates! She had never heard of a siren with a mate, even half-breed. Besides, the point was moot if they didn’t claim the bond, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like old times when the bloodlines ran pure and finding your mate was automatically a pairing in the eyes of society.
“So,” Risha finally grumbled once they were settled at a cafeteria table with plates piled high with food. “How much are you holding back?”
Wave debated lying, but… she didn’t want to. So she answered as close to the truth as she could. “A third.” In reality, it was almost all of her siren side on top of that third, so that might be closer to half.
She wasn’t the siren heir apparent yet, but the powers now crashing inside her didn’t seem to care as they egged each other on.
Half-breeds that inherited heir apparent from both parents were extremely rare.
Most beings held more of the other side and the title moved laterally to siblings, aunts, uncles, or even cousins.
It didn’t seem to be the case with Wave.
Mother held the title now and once Grandmere passed, hopefully never, that title would very likely move down to her, instead of any of her mother’s siblings.
At least that was what Grandmere had announced the one time Wave had been presented to her, just after her birth.
“Morsel, are you even listening?” Risha’s annoyed voice pulled her out of her musings.
“What?”
“Yeah, thought so. I asked how are you feeling? Powers settling in?”
“Um…” They weren’t. They were swelling, building, crashing together.
Risha frowned. “It might take several weeks, but you should start to feel more in control.”
Wave shrugged helplessly. Either she lied or stayed silent. Irishen’s eyes seemed to sharpen, but then he visibly checked himself.
“You need to fuel up in any case,” he said. “Eat up.”
Wave took the food he offered and stuffed a huge forkful of baked potato into her mouth.
She was so engrossed in her food that she didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere until it was too late.
By the time Wave looked up, Hellion was glaring at their table and looked like he was ready to storm over.
She prepared to jump up and run out because she was not ready to face him. Not now, and maybe not ever. Every time her thoughts drifted toward the demon with the blond hair and beautiful blue eyes, there was a pang of pain in her heart.
For some reason, she had thought he would be the one to understand her the most. How wrong she had been. It was laughable really. And now he was glaring daggers at her. If he came over, she would either punch him or cry.
Neither was an option.
Irishen reached over and clasped her hand, squeezing gently. “Stay, eat. You need the energy, morsel,” he murmured before glancing at Hellion. “He’s looking for a fight, since he’s here and not at Grandhall. I’ll run interference.”
“You don’t need to—”
But Irishen was already rising from the table. He leaned down to drop a kiss to the top of Wave’s head.
“It’s what a good mate would do.”
Oh, fuck. He knew.