“You were going to leave your entrance to luck?” Dionne asked.
“There’s no pleasing you,” Bexley hissed before turning to her girlfriend. “Go join the celebrations. You’ve done more than you should have.”
Dionne’s gaze flitted to me before she kissed Bexley and disappeared from the house.
“You can leave as well,” I told Bexley.
“What are you planning on doing?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Yes, it is,” she argued. “My sister is married to your brother. If you piss him off, she’s the one who has to endure it.”
“Larkin’s a big girl. She doesn’t need anyone to save her.”
“The same could be said about Quentin.”
A wall of black rushed towards Bexley, but Sloan stepped in front of her, and it took all of my restraint to stop it.
“Enough!” Sloan ordered. “Fighting amongst ourselves won’t help anything. Bexley and Dionne have done us a favour by telling us what’s going on down there. Whatever you have planned, you need to act on it now, Gray.”
Tendrils of my aura wound themselves back towards me, bringing light back into the room.
The situation was a delicate one. Archer had overstepped a mark and potentially inched the knife further into Quentin’s back by trying to play the perfect host. But informing Hunter was a guaranteed way of taking Quen out of Archer’s clutches and back to upper Elysia, where I could keep a closer eye on her.
“I need to visit my brother,” I said, cracking my neck.
“I’ll come with you,” Erik said.
“No.”
“Gray—"
“What?” I turned on him. “What help do you think you could possibly be?”
“Referee.”
“I’m not stupid. I know what’s on the line.”
I didn’t waste another breath on the trio before wrapping my aura around me and taking myself to Hunter’s estate.
My fist banged on the door, and moments later, Hunter pulled it open. His face fell when he saw me, and he turned away without greeting. Following him into his home, I began, “I assume you know what’s happening.”
I couldn’t help but take a swipe at him. Old habits die hard.
“You’re bothering me after a long day,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh, please accept my humblest apologies. I didn’t mean to make your life difficult,” I shot back sarcastically.
“What do you want, Grayson?” Hunter had moved back into his office, and I stepped inside, ready for round two.
“Quentin—" I started.
“You’re like a broken record. This obsession you have is disgusting.”
Shaking off the insult, I said, “She’s having a gifting ball.”
Hunter’s face contorted with anger. “No. She is not.”
