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You’re just like him.
The thought reverberated through my mind each time I thought of my fingers pressing into her warm skin or my arms wrapped around her delicate curves.
So, I’ve stayed away. I refused to look at her. I told Tansy to keep her in bed as long as possible, and I tried to ignore her warm scent wafting through the house.
My willpower should have left me feeling strong and in control, but I don’t.
I’m empty.
Just like those drawers.
“What are you doing in my office?”
Immediately, I recognize the voice that booms behind me and swirl in my chair. Wyatt’s staring at me curiously, holding a brown paper bag.
“This office hasn’t been yours in a long time,” I mutter, my tone tinged with bitterness.
He ignores it, though, and sits fluidly in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I thought you’d work at the Administrator’s office.”
“I don’t like it over there,” I mumble noncommittally. “What are you doing here?”
“I was walking down Dogwood Street picking some stuff up and saw the window open.” He pauses to shrug. “Only you or … Jason would use this space, so I thought I’d come check.”
I hum under my breath. I’ve hoped to walk into a room and find Jason about a thousand different times, always magically back to how he was before Beebalm got his clutches into him. So, I get it.
I shake off the memories and focus on Wyatt. He’s changed since coming home. Not only is his hair longer and his clothing more casual, but he has an ease to him. A sort of happy, lackadaisical quality that wasn’t there before.
“How’s Camilla?” I ask, swallowing a sudden burn of jealousy.
“Fine. The baby’s growing a lot, and she’s having trouble getting around as well as she did before.” He pauses to smirk. “She’s craving oranges—going through like a pound a day, so I came into town to pick some up.”
“Must be important if you actually showed your face in town,” I quip, unable to hide the sarcasm.
Since returning to Goldenrod, Wyatt and Camilla have been living in the house my brothers and I used to share on the other side of Sage Hill. We don’t see them often. I understand, I suppose. They’ve endured a lot and need a little peace. But this would all be easier if I had my brothers—both of them—at my side.
Wyatt, unfazed by my attitude, tilts his head at me. “What’s wrong, Noah? You’re acting sulkier than usual.”
“I know.” I sigh and pinch my sinuses. “Sorry. I’m stressed.”
He leans forward, concern etched on his face. “What’s going on? Everything okay with communication? The delivery? I know we have a few months, but you got it figured out, right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine…” I trail off, hoping he can’t sense the deception in my tone. “How much did Beebalm ever tell you and Father about how he organized the delivery?”
Wyatt shrugs. “He didn’t tell us much. We were more in charge of managing the goods once we received them. I’m not too familiar with what leads up to it.”
I nod and press my lips together. “Mother’s hosting a dinner on Saturday with Marcus Catmint to talk about it. Did you hear he’s the new head of the alpha council? Appointed last spring.”
Maybe Marcus knows something about the delivery? Perhaps I can try to decipher something without letting him know how little I’ve learned about it.
Wyatt makes a face. “I never liked that alpha. Such a pretentious ass.”
Marcus Catmint isn’t a particularly powerful alpha, but he’s always been a staunch defender of the Order, which makes him fairly intimidating—if a bit humorless—in his own right.
I always liked him, though. He was one of the few alphas from the lower order who actually questioned Beebalm and his sometimes-erratic decisions. Unfortunately, now that I’m Administrator, he’s doing the same to me.
I sigh. “I liked him a lot better when Beebalm was the Administrator.”
“Is he the only one coming?”
