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“Marcus Catmint,” I mutter.
“Oh.” Her face falls, but she shakes it off briskly. “Anyway, in years past, Administrator Beebalm would invite the council head to dinner, as well as your father and Anthony Cypress.” She pauses and shifts her eyes. “But obviously, we’ll be without a Cypress family representative this year.”
Anthony Cypress and his mate died last year, and his son, Orion, fled Goldenrod in search of his sister, Elizabeth, when my mother had her released. When Elizabeth returned, he wasn’t with her. In fact, no one knows where he is or even if he’s dead or alive.
So, if the Cypresses are without an alpha, there’s no one to blame but her … not that she’ll acknowledge that.
“What about Elizabeth?” I ask, my voice threaded with exhaustion. “Why can’t she come as a representative for the Cypress family?”
She sneers. “An omega? And a pregnant one at that? Absolutely not.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I clip out as I lean forward and ruffle some papers, attempting to look busy. “You’ll plan it?”
“Gladly.” She smiles, satisfied, and begins to rise from her chair. “We’ll hold it next weekend … Saturday, I think. I’ll send an invitation to Alpha Catmint tomorrow.”
“That works,” I say absently until something occurs to me. “Wait—there’s something else I want to talk to you about. I’m worried about Hetty.”
She freezes and slowly falls into her chair again. “Hetty? The beta?”
“What other Hetty do we know?” I roll my eyes. “Of course, Hetty the beta. She fell twice today, and she’s … not herself.”
An image of Hetty’s blue eyes flashes in my mind, ablaze with emotion and heat. I push away the image when Mother tilts her head suspiciously.
“I’m sure Tansy has her well in hand,” she enunciates evenly.
I wait for her to elaborate, but as the seconds tick by, I realize that’s all the concern I’m going to get from her. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out the next question that pops into my head.
“Why does she sleep in the basement?”
I close my mouth immediately, as surprised as she is by my question. I didn’t intend to bring this up with her, and by the way her green eyes sharpen, I don’t think she appreciates it.
Inhaling deeply, I start over. “I mean, why do they—the betas—sleep in the basement?”
“Where else would you have me put them, Noah?”
I shrug. “Well, there are fifteen bedrooms in this house.”
“No.” She shakes her head quickly. “A beta’s place is below ground.”
“What the fu—” I cut myself off with a groan. “That’s ridiculous. I’m moving them upstairs.”
An angry blush rises to her cheeks as her head pops up. “They don’t want that.”
“I’m sure it’s preferable to the basement,” I insist. “It’s a dungeon down there.”
Her eyes flick down to her lap, her face reddening. “They know their place, and they’re comfortable with it. It was Tansy who taught me that. I think she knows what she’s talking about.”
I tilt my head and consider her. Flush and breathless, she’s wringing her hands nervously on her lap, her chest moving up and down sporadically.
She’s upset, I realize. As upset as I’ve ever seen her. Even amid the more terrible things she’s done—killing Father, releasing Camilla and Elizabeth—she was calm and self-assured.
But right now, she looks like she’s about to collapse in on herself.
“He can’t hurt the betas anymore,” I say softly without thinking. “You killed him, remember?”
Her hands stop their manic twisting, and she looks up slowly, wide-eyed and scared. Something passes between us then—an understanding.
She breaks the trance when her lips quirk into a half smile. “I did, didn’t I?”
