“Vyse is here.” I’m already moving toward the door. “At the mansion.”
She drops whatever she was holding. “I’m coming with you.”
“Sadie—”
“Don’t even start.” She’s already grabbing her jacket. “You think I’m going to miss a chance to interrogate that sexy red-haired bastard in person? I’ve got questions.”
“This probably isn’t a good idea.”
“Most things I do aren’t good ideas.” She rushes past me through the door, heading for the stairs. “That’s never stopped me before.”
I follow, because what the fuck else am I going to do?
Tell Sadie no?
That’s not how this works.
Besides, if this impromptu meeting goes sideways, we’re gonna need all the backup we can get.
Chapter
Sixteen
REGINA
Vyse has a way of taking up space that has nothing to do with physical dimensions.
He’s draped across one of Villeneuve’s antique chairs like a cat. A cat who’s decided the furniture belongs to him now, long legs crossed at the ankle, red hair spilling over the armrest.
He’s also making a face at the tea Sean made him.
“This isatrocious.” Vyse holds the cup away from his body like it’s radioactive. “What did you do, boil the leaves in battery acid?”
Sean crosses his arms and looks wounded. “I made it exactly how the box said.”
“Box?” Vyse’s voice cracks in horror like he’s just been poisoned. “You fed me tea from abox?”
“All the best food comes from boxes, bro,” Sean says, blinking. “Have you never had Hamburger Helper?”
Vyse looks a bit paler. He sets the cup down on the side table with exaggerated care. “I’ve had swamp water with a more nuanced flavor profile.”
“Then drink swamp water next time,” Sean grumbles. “Jerk.”
I stroke his giant bicep in consolation and he melts. He takes any affront to his culinary skillsverypersonally.
Killian is standing by the window again. It’s his default position these days. He hasn’t sat down since Vyse arrived, every muscle tense like he’s ready to shift into his wolf form at the slightest provocation. The dark veins on his neck are visible above the collar of his black t-shirt now.
They spread a little further each day.
Rowan is on the couch nearest to me, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. His presence is steady through the bond, but there’s an edge to it.
We’reallon edge.
I should really text Villeneuve.
I consider it for a moment. He’s been in his office since this morning, doing whatever dragons do when they’re not saving ungrateful wolves or almost-kissing their mates during party games. I haven’t actually talked to him about anything other than class since I found him collapsed that day.
I’d say it’s because he’s been avoiding me, but the truth is, I’ve been avoiding him too. I don’t know what to say to a man who refuses to let anyone in.
