Kepler chooses that moment to leap across the couch like nothing happened.
Minerva starts laughing—breathless, stunned, happy—and hides her face against my neck.
“Welcome home.” Her lips fall open on a sip of air.
My throat goes tight.
Yeah.
Fucking finally.
After about five minutes of lying blissed out, Kepler winds down and comes to drape himself bonelessly across both of us, confirming my hypothesis that ferrets are a liquid rather than a solid. The rhythm of her voice lulls me into slumber.
When I open my eyes a little while later, Minerva is dozing. Kepler’s dainty paws twitch in his sleep. I smile to myself and close my eyes again. My neck and back are going to hurt like hell in the morning.
Like I said: worth it.
Chapter Eleven
Minerva
The Venom throws all sorts of charity events, and while my contract doesn’t stipulate that I have to attend, Tristan’s puppy-dog eyes say otherwise. Besides, I had fun at the last one despite the rough start.
The night of the Venom charity gala, I stand in front of the mirror, stare at my reflection, and seek out what’s wrong. On one level, I’m a master at this game because I’ve learned to spot countless personal flaws. Then again, I can never figure out how tofixthem, so I always lose.
The dress is beautiful—Marley’s pick, not mine. Deep emerald satin that catches the light and turns richer when I move. It hugs my waist, skims my hips, and flares just enough to make me look like I have curves instead of angles. The neckline dips in a soft V, nothing extreme, just enough to make my collarbones look intentional instead of bony. My hair is pinned half-up, the loose waves falling over my shoulders in a way I could never achieve on my own. I curled the pieces around my face until they framed me gently, making me look… softer. Almost elegant.
My makeup is light—glowy skin, a touch of blush so I don’t look like a shut-in, dark lashes, and a sweep of gold across my lids because Marley insisted my eyes should “sparkle under fancy lighting.” Even my shoes are pretty: strappy gold heels that make me taller and more capable-looking, though I still feel like a toddler in borrowed pumps.
Taken altogether, I look like a polished version of myself. A version that belongs at a gala. A version that could stand next to Tristan without feeling like a mismatched plus-one.
And somehow, that only makes the nerves run sharper.
I catch myself tugging at the hem of my dress and force my hands away, trying to remember what Marley told me when she helped me pick my gown.Don’t yank on your clothes or squirm too much. Do take deep breaths and hydrate. Relax and be yourself!
I mostly like this list, because the instructions are clear. I understand the rules of this event. The last part seems oxymoronic, given that I can’t relax in public, ergo, any time I am myself in crowds, I am not relaxed. Still, I appreciate Marley’s effort to simplify the otherwise rambling and contradictory rules of elite social gatherings.
“Min? You ready?”
“Coming!” I tear myself away from the mirror, make sure that Kepler is safely closed up in his cage, and go out to meet Tristan.
The moment I step into the living room, Tristan’s lips part. He looks me up and down, and I brace for the inevitable comment or critique.You forgot your earrings. Those shoes, with that dress, really? Your hair needs some work, there are too many split ends…
“You’re right,” I blurt. “I’ll change.”
Tristan holds up his hands. “Wait, no. What? Don’t change. I was just trying to soak it all in. Soak you in. You look…”
“Ridiculous in this dress.” I run my hands over my lack of cleavage, my lack of hips, right down to the hem, which I pull down, even though it’s against the rules. “Marley picked it.”
“You look gorgeous,” Tristan says. “Is everything okay? You seem more on edge tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m…”Freaking the fuck out.“My family is going to be there.”
His expression darkens. “The family who cut you off?”
“The very same.” I wish I could cancel, but I know Tristan wants me there. Besides that, I don’t want to keep running. Iwantthem to see that I don’t need them, and that there are people out there who think my interests are worthwhile. The trouble is, if I go, I’ll have to seethem.And then Tristan will see what I’m like in their presence. And then…
I don’t know what will happen then.
