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Later, I’d be mortified that I’d ruined the dress. Right now, I only climbed haphazardly to my feet and rushed for the sitting room where Callum had fucked me before he left two days ago. Phoebe’s eyes were wide as she looked up from where she sat in the inner garden, but I only noticed it in that part of my mind that noticed the birds chirping and my arm throbbing from where I’d hit it against the last spindle.
I threw the door to the sitting room open and sobbed when I realized the window had been opened. Even still, I pulled the pillow from where it sat perfectly fluffed against he arm of the sofa.
There, under the smell of the fabric and the alcoholic bite of Arden’s scent, was a bit of the wisteria I craved in my bones, needed in a way that was honestly unhealthy. I turned the pillow over, and it wasn’t quite so diluted by Arden’s scent. I collapsed in a heap, barely avoiding hitting the coffee table. I kept the pillow pressed to my nose, willing the wisteria to be enough to edge away this desperate, cloying panic.
“Amethyst? My lady?” Phoebe’s voice was tentative.
I whipped my gaze toward the doorway with a threadbare shriek. “Don’t.”
She stopped at once, her foot raised to enter the room. I clutched the pillow tighter to me, pressing it against my nose again. I tried to find words, tried to explain the gut wrenching fear that ripped through me at the thought of her coming close and messing with this little bit of wisteria I’d managed to find, but they didn’t form.
Instead, I sobbed, “Please, please don’t.”
She nodded and stepped back onto the covered hallway. A moment later, she let the door shut.
CALLUM
The house was silent, the sounds of Simeon and my’s horses the only sound above the crickets and rustling of the trees in the midnight breeze off the lake. Simeon slid from his saddle as we reached the stairs and held the reins of my own horse whose name I hadn’t bothered to learn. The messaging stone sat at the top of one of my bags, its message from Phoebe ringing in my ears even hours later.
Had Amethyst dropped into her heat already?
Prescott and Lorraine had both urged me to go home and assured me that they would be able to handle the remaining discussions to be held between Sepra and Senona. I could only hope they were both right. The talks had gone smoothly, all things considered, though nothing permanent had been laid out as of dinner time when I received the messaging stone from one of the mages from the school in Whiterock. She’d sent it without an escort, a sign of just how desperate the situation was.
“I’ll get them stabled for the night and return them to the school in the morning,” Simeon murmured.
I offered a quiet thanks as I started up the stairs. About halfway up, one of the main doors opened, and Phoebe stepped onto the top stair, a ball of mage light bobbing beside her head. The blue light limned her features, showing the worry lines framing her eyes and the heavy frown curving her lips.
“Is she—”
“She’s in the smaller sitting room.”
My stomach twisted over itself.
“The Rites?”
“Vincent arranged them for first thing in the morning once we received your return message. The guardsmen have retired for the night. They arrived about an hour ago.”
Good.
“Thank you.” The words were fervent.
Phoebe only circled my wrist as I passed her, an understanding smile replacing the frown.
“She handled today well,” she said. “Even with the strain of the heat. I don’t believe she thinks that. You might tell her when she’s lucid again.”
I swallowed. “So she’s truly in heat?”
Phoebe shrugged. “I’m not sure. Only Arden would be able to tell for sure, and he was unwilling to get near enough to confirm for both of their sakes.”
A growl ripped up my throat, only confirming it had been the right decision to keep away from her.
“She collapsed in the sitting room about an hour after dinner. No one’s attempted to move her, though Shelby and Amaria both checked on her before retiring for the night.”
“Thank you,” I said again.
She dipped her chin and then left me for the comfort of her own bed. The main door closed, and Simeon’s soft voice filtered to me, but I didn’t try to parse out the meaning. Words between spouses were none of my business, especially in the middle of the night. Tegan stood guard outside the sitting room. Another wave of gratefulness flooded me. They’d made sure she was safe.
“Thank you,” I told him. “Go rest.”
