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She hasn’t left my side since I arrived. Sinking against me, not seeming to care that I’m covered in blood and filth, her hands burrow under my shirt. I let my eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feel of her cool fingers against my skin.
Glancing down, I see she’s looking back and forth between Marcus and my mother, her brow furrowed.
“I want to go talk to them,” she finally mutters, her voice threaded with purpose. She’s not feeling empty. In fact, she looks like she’s feeling a great deal of things as she grabs my hand and pulls me toward town hall.
Standing in front of them, she holds my hand tight, her fingers pressing into my skin.
“You owe me an explanation,” she says to the two of them. “Me and Joanna. We deserve to know.”
Both Joanna and Marcus stare at her blankly like they have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Hetty, maybe we should talk about this later.” I urge her away, but she stands her ground.
“No!” she says, her voice wavering. “I’ve waited long enough. I want to know who I am and where I come from.” She sucks in a tear-filled breath. “What happened to my mother?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Marcus mutters in exhaustion, not taking his eyes off his feet. “It’s all in the past.”
“Obviously not, since you were willing to burn Isolde in front of the whole town a while ago,” she says emotionally. “It’s clearly still weighing on you.”
He looks down blankly, his mouth in a straight line. But as usual, my mother has no problem interjecting herself.
“Well, I don’t mind talking about it,” she says clearly, stepping forward and nodding fervently. “I can tell you exactly what happened to your mother, Henrietta.”
Marcus curses, but Mother pays him no attention. Fluttering down the steps in excitement, she looks between Hetty and Joanna, her eyes bright and her smile big.
Inwardly, I groan. I know that face—what would I give for a mother who didn’t relish drama as much as this one?
“I’ve told Hetty a bit of this,” she begins, “but growing up, Bryn and I were the best of friends. We did everything together. Living where we did on Spruce Street, no one cared much what we did. I was an only child with busy parents, so it was inconsequential that my best friend was a beta servant. It was just the two of us … always.”
Marcus grunts pathetically but doesn’t look up at her.
“Well, Marcus was there, too, I suppose,” she admits with a tight-lipped smile. “But I never liked him, and he never liked me.”
“At least that much is true,” Marcus mutters under his breath.
Ignoring him, she continues. “He was always an obnoxious prig, and still is, but Bryn would always let him tag along with us.” Her voice and expression soften as she thinks back. “She was always so much sweeter than me. As we grew older, it was assumed that Marcus and I would be mates. Our parents tried, but I was never invested in it … for obvious reasons.”
Seemingly contemplating Marcus as her mate, she pulls a face and shudders. “But I knew the real reason why it never worked, and it didn’t have anything to do with my dislike of him. It was because of Bryn.”
Their eyes are locked in a stare down—she and Marcus—the scent of anger and blame thick in the air.
“I told her to stay away from him,” Mother continues, not taking her eyes off him. “Not only does the Order forbid it, but it’s also unnatural—disgusting even—for an alpha to consort with a beta. I still believe that. Thirty years married to Carson Sage only cemented it.”
The silence is so thick, you could slide a knife through it. Joanna and Hetty both stare at the ground, breathing heavily, but Mother and Marcus look like they’re about to go at each other’s throats.
“We should talk about this later,” I suggest, pulling Hetty close. “There’s a lot going on, and now’s not the best time to rehash the past.”
Immediately, her stiff body relaxes against me, but she shakes her head quickly. “No, I want to hear this,” she whispers, not looking up. “Keep going, Isolde.”
Mother purses her lips and looks away from Marcus finally. “Everyone on Spruce Street knew what was happening between them, but no one ever said anything. I tried to convince Bryn to stay away from him. Not only was their relationship an abomination to the Order, but I knew he’d kill her eventually—she wasn’t built to accept an alpha. She refused, though, and we had a rather terrible falling out over it.”
She sniffles. “And then I mated with Carson and moved in different circles anyway. I didn’t see her for years. I’d heard that she’d moved in with him, though, working as his maid and carrying on some sort of sordid relationship with him.”
“It wasn’t like that!” Marcus interjects, jumping to his feet. “We loved each other! You’re just such a miserable bitch that you can’t let anyone else be happy.”
I roll my eyes, preparing to interject when Mother steps forward. “Then how do you explain what she told me?” His face pales, and encouraged, she steps toward him, nodding. “What did you want to do if the baby was born a beta, Marcus?”
He curses and balls his fist at his side. “It was a misunderstanding.”
