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“You’re home early. We weren’t expecting you until this evening,” she says quietly, breaking the silence. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” I blurt out thoughtlessly.
Her eyes grow wide with worry. “What’s wrong?”
“It was—” I cut myself off, not wanting to burden her with how much Rill’s constant questions and ridiculous demands had begun to plague me. “It was hot and stuffy in the office. I thought the house would be cooler.”
“It is hot, right?” she asks. “I’ve been sweating like crazy all day, but no one else seems to be as bothered by it.”
There’s a fine sheen of moisture on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed and red. I can’t imagine that’s a result of the fall…
And she has a new scent to her—like warm vanilla. It must be a perfume. While alphas and omegas are defined by their specific scent, betas all usually have the same bland scent—like oats and milk.
“What did you do today?” I ask, my heartbeat quickening as I study her face.
“Not much, unfortunately,” she says with a sigh. “I went into town to pick up the coffee and was obliged to help a couple omegas with their shopping.”
She looks down. I immediately know that she’s hiding something.
I quirk a brow. “Who?”
“I didn’t catch their names,” she mutters darkly.
She’s lying. They probably treated her badly. Most of the alphas and omegas in Goldenrod treat betas like nameless, interchangeable servants—Hetty’s not used to that.
“I want you to take the rest of the day off,” I say gruffly. “Go lie down and relax.”
The delicate tendons in her neck flex. “Maybe… There’s still a lot of work to do.”
“You have a head injury. If there was ever a reason to—” I start to argue, but as the door swings open wide, I jump to my feet.
It’s Cleo, holding a towel and a bowl of ice. Behind her, I see Tansy lurking and Nancy and Beth cleaning up the coffee mess.
I can’t help but sneer as Tansy follows Cleo into the study.
If Beebalm destroyed my family, he had a partner in crime in this old plant witch. She’s been my mother’s beta maid since she was a child, and over the past year or so, she’s been Isolde Sage’s cohort in every corrupt, damaging thing she’s done.
“What’s going on here?” she asks, her eyes moving between me and Hetty suspiciously.
“There was an accident,” I explain quickly. “Hetty fell and hit her head. She needs to take the rest of the day off and relax.”
Tansy glares at me and grunts as she shuffles forward, pushing past me. You’d think she’d be more differential to me as her alpha—not to mention the Administrator—but that’s never been her style.
She kneels and studies her granddaughter’s face, running her fingers over her sweaty brow before lifting them to her nose and inhaling deeply. She doesn’t even look at the injury on the back of Hetty’s head, but a panic transforms her haggard features.
“Let’s go, Henrietta,” she snaps, standing straight and motioning her forward. “Alpha Sage is right. You need to rest.”
Hetty nods blankly and starts to rise, but I thrust my hand out, stopping her.
“She shouldn’t walk,” I say to Tansy angrily. “I’ll carry her.”
“No.” Tansy shakes her head quickly. “Don’t touch her.”
I scoff and easily push past her. She grunts in disapproval as I reach for her granddaughter, but she doesn’t try to stop me.
Gathering Hetty in my arms again, I easily pull her slight body against my chest. That same warm, sweet scent drifts through me, and my eyelids fall closed before opening quickly. I barely register Tansy’s pale, alarmed face darting between us frantically.
My body hardens at the feel of her, a heat pumping my blood fast as my fingers grip her tightly.
