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Fucking Rill. Always right.
“You know, your mother was always a liar, too,” he tells me, not acknowledging my question. “I’ve lived in this house my entire life. For a long time, she was just across the street. Isolde Ambrette with her judgmental eyes and high and mighty attitude. You remind me of her, you know.”
I nod like this isn’t a surprise.
“She was always telling stories,” he continues. “Trying to make me look bad. Then, when she called to Carson Sage, she lorded it over me. Told me she’d keep me down forever. She did, too. But I guess she had to make a trade-off for all that power.”
“What was that?”
“She mated with an alpha who was exactly who she thought I was,” he says sourly. “And she deserved what she got.”
It occurs to me that I don’t want to know what he’s talking about—he’s talking about my mother and father, after all. I have no desire to know which proclivities they share with this alpha.
“I’m leaving now,” I tell him, standing up.
“That’s probably in your best interest,” he says, standing and holding his hand out to shake. “The council will be here soon, and I doubt you can take on all of us.”
“I’m sure that would be quite the challenge,” I reply dryly, glancing down at his hand hanging in the air.
“This won’t work, Noah,” he says sagely. “Goldenrod will not forsake the Order.”
“We’ll see. You’d be surprised what an alpha is capable of when he’s facing death.” I pause, looking him up and down. “And something tells me you’ll reach that point sooner rather than later.”
With that said, I turn on my heels and leave him alone in his dark, crowded house.
43
The Last of the Dianthus
Hetty
“Let’s stop at Sage House,” Stella yells over the rain, grabbing me by the shoulders. “We can get some new clothes and dry off.”
“But—” I turn, my eyes fruitlessly searching through the downpour. We’re standing in Bluestem Meadow, but I can’t see three feet in front of me. It would help if there were lights in town, but as it is, everything around us is dark and mottled.
“We’re not going to do anyone any good in this condition,” she shouts. “I have rain gear galore at Sage House, and then we can head to Arabica and try to find your friend.”
“Okay,” I finally groan, reluctantly allowing her to pull me across the field in the direction of Sage Hill, sloshing through puddles, our feet sticking to the muddy ground.
It took us a long time to get to Goldenrod despite the fact that the rain didn’t start until we were about halfway here. We tried to walk fast, but both of us felt antsy, like we were being followed.
It was surprisingly easy for us to get away from camp. Wyatt was so distracted by Camilla, the baby, and the overall management of the guards that I don’t think he even realized we left.
But still, as we made our way toward Goldenrod, every time we caught a strange scent or heard a random twig snapping, we’d pause and search the trees.
So many times, we dropped behind a giant rock or thick tree trunk, sure someone was coming after us. The frequent stops combined with the time we spent chatting, plotting, and scheming meant we were slow-moving.
I think we came up with a solid plan, though. We decided it would be smartest to start with Min. She’s such a “busybody,” as Gran used to say, that she was sure to know a way to best communicate with all the Goldenrod betas.
She’s our best option. Our only option, really.
I told Stella that I remember her saying that she has an apartment over Arabica, so that’s where we’re headed. But first, Sage House for reinforcements.
It doesn’t take us long to get there—Stella’s snuck out so many times that she knows the route home from Bluestem Meadow like the back of her hand.
Even in the rain and the middle of the night, trudging up Sage Hill with Stella feels routine and familiar. It’s almost like none of the events of the past few months ever happened as we dash through the garden in the rain. But nothing prepares me for the feeling I get stepping through the kitchen door.
As I wring my hair out on the doorstep, the first person I’m reminded of is Gran, of course. I spent my life with her in this kitchen, after all. I half expect to find her standing by the table, waiting and ready to yell at me for taking so long to return.
