The silence that follows stretches long enough to become uncomfortable.
Phoenix doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Her expression cycles through too many different emotions to pick out any single one.
Then she straightens her spine.
“Okay, here’s how this is going to work.” Her voice has dropped into a deeper register, commanding obedience. “My primary concern right now is Mason. Everything else can wait until his heat is over. Understood?”
I nod. Judah makes a sound that is close enough to agreement.
Phoenix’s gaze locks onto Judah with laser focus.
“You donotgo near Mason unless and until he explicitly, verbally, while of sound mind, asks for you.” Each word lands like a hammer strike. “No ambiguity. Noit seemed like he wanted it. No alpha-knows-best bullshit. His consent is non-negotiable. Are we clear?”
Judah’s jaw works. His hands clench and unclench at his sides. For a moment I think he’s going to argue.
“Yes,” he rasps.
Phoenix nods once, sharp. Then her attention swings to me.
“You’re on Judah duty. If he can’t handle being in this house without losing control, you get him out. Take him on his boat. To your bar. The moon, even. I don’t care. Anywhere that isn’t here. Whatever it takes to keep him away from that room until Mason is ready to see him. If he’severready. And if Mason does ask for you, Atticus and I will be there to make sure Mason doesn’t get hurt.”
I start to nod, then stop and consider.
“That’s not exactly fair to Judah.”
Phoenix’s eyebrows rise, expression incredulous. “I beg your very last pardon?”
“I’m just saying.” I spread my hands, trying to keep my voice reasonable. “If Mason does invite Judah into the nest…you and Atticus will be there. You’ve got each other. But Judah won’t have anyone in his corner.”
She studies me for a long moment, clearly searching for an ulterior motive.
“Fine,” she says finally. “If Mason allows it, you can be there too.”
The concession surprises me more than it should. I nod, not trusting my voice.
From his position against the wall, Judah speaks for the first time since we came downstairs.
“You’re not angry at him.”
Phoenix turns to face him. “What?”
“Mason.” Judah’s voice is hoarse, strained from the effort of not breathing through his nose. “He lied to you for three years. Hid this entire part of his life. You’re not mad at him?”
Phoenix goes still.
The silence stretches.
“I’m furious,” she says finally. “But Mason needs me right now. My feelings can wait.”
She turns on her heel and is gone before I can think of an appropriate response.
TWENTY-EIGHT
PHOENIX
The bedroom doorclicks shut behind me and I collapse against it.
The adrenaline rush that carried me through that confrontation with Dom and Judah drains out of me like someone pulled out my battery.
