Today, I couldn’t keep Laurel out of my head. Ocean had cracked my armour, and she was bleeding through. My stomach clenched, and a cold sweat broke out on my back as I looked down at the fight. I kept my breathing even as I was forced to watch it play out.
ELEVEN
LAUREL
The door closed on the Lucas pack, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Turning, I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall as I dropped my Duchess persona.
It had taken every ounce of my skill to get them to leave without me, and I was exhausted. I stayed there for a moment before I opened my eyes again, taking in the lofty ceilings and low lighting of the suite.
I always felt so small in here by myself. The way the marble floors reflected the red drapes made me feel like I was walking over a pool of blood, and I wanted to be away from it all.
After slipping off my shoes, I limped over to my dressing room. My leg was throbbing, protesting how I’d ignored it all evening.
I relaxed as I entered my small space, pulling a cold pack from my mini fridge and securing it to my knee. Then I slipped on an oversized hoodie, tugging it down to cover my silky dress. It warmed me after so long in the cold suite, and Ifelt much more comfortable all covered and cozy. I sat down on my vanity chair, taking the clips out of my hair and letting my mind wander.
It kept coming back to that one alpha.
Ocean.
There was something different about him. He had smiled at me with abandon, and his eyes had shone in a way I’d never seen. The way he’d blushed when I’d taken his hand, and his purr… No alpha had ever purred for me before.
What was he doing here, within the blood-soaked walls of the Crimson Palace?
No one came to my suite who kept their conscience clean, and as far as I knew, Ocean was another one of my father’s errand boys. So, how did he still have that warm light in his eyes?
Grabbing my phone, I pulled up the guest log, scrolling until I found his name attached to one of our bookable rooms. I put it down, then picked it up again, chewing my lip. I shouldn’t visit him, should I?
I couldn’t get caught going to his room for nothing—but I could come up with an excuse. I kind of owed him, right? For helping me convincingly kiss that slimy toad, Prince.
I grabbed a basket off the top shelf and started to pack it with gifts. As the Duchess, I sometimes brought a gift to a special guest in person. A personal favour, though I made it my own by carefully hiding a bug in the basket, capturing any secrets that my targets let slip.
The favour basket had to be the same every time. I layered in slippers, chocolates, specialty coffee, and teas. A single red rose, scented skin oil, and a bottle of wine.
I opened a lower drawer carefully, eyeing the stack of pinup pictures of me. I was supposed to put them in every basket, but I “forgot” every time. They were just collectingdust here. But if there was one alpha I did want seeing them, it was Ocean.
I slipped one in before I changed my mind, then picked up the last offering. It was a blindfold made of thick ribbon, higher quality than the ones we usually gave to our guests. But I could make it even more special for Ocean. I brought it up to my neck, scent-marking it before hastily tucking it among the other gifts.
I stared at it, my cheeks heating a bit.
This wasn’t exactly subtle.
Would Ocean like the scent?
Would his scent blocker have worn off? If he did like my scent, this would burn it off faster. God, I wanted to know what he smelled like so badly.
I imagined him lying back on the bed, his curls spreading around his face, and bringing the blindfold up to his nose as his scent spiked in arousal.
I cut the thought off with a squeak.
My face was burning as I hurried through the back corridors, calling the staff elevator. I willed the thoughts away with effort as I rode up to the fourth floor.
Control.
I breathed in and out. My scent was the same, still steady despite my racing thoughts. Which meant this was fine, and I was completely in control.
I slowed as I neared his door. I took a breath and held it as I reached my hand up to knock, listening for a response.
And then—the door was opening.
