“Your family is worried about you,” Chev says. He shuts my door and plops into the seat opposite my desk.
I blink. “And they sentyouto check on me?”
“Yes. I’m a neutral individual.”
I’m pretty sure he was supposed to lie about having been sent here. If I know my parents, they sent him here with the explicit instruction to pretend he’s here of his own concern. I wouldn’t have believed it, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Why sendyou?” I ask. “Why not come themselves, or send Aunt Vanessa? I like her more.”
Chev shrugs, not the least bit offended by my jab. It’s not the first time I’ve claimed to prefer Aunt Vanessa, but Chev knows I don’t mean it. “I’m getting the impression that they’re afraid of you, and my mate is busy.” He gestures toward my wrist. “Charlie told me about what Rexton did and about your bracelet. You should know I disagree with it.”
Rexton.
I suck my cheeks into my mouth, remaining silent. I need to play this carefully. Chev can be perceptive when he wants to be, and he clearly isn’t aware that I haven’t been told about Rexton. I recognize the name.
The Wrath name.
I should’ve fucking known.
“And what is it that Charlie told you about Rexton?” I ask, careful to maintain a healthy level of disinterest.
I pick at my nails. If I were a human with slower healing, I suspect my nailbeds would be torn to shreds. Instead, my skin is fresh and pink, with no blemishes to be found.
Was it Rexton? I fear I already know the answer, but I sincerely hope I’m wrong. I have to be wrong. If I’m not, I don’t know what I’ll do. If that sneaky fucking weasel of a man stole my kill, if he was the man secretly working with Silas and murdered Mammon, I don’t know what I’ll do.
I drop my hands into my lap and bury my nails into my thighs, then glance around the room. My blinds are dusty and need to be cleaned, and there’s a small stain in the carpet where I spilled coffee several months ago. There are cleaners available,but they don’t enter private offices. I have to make a special request, but I’ve been too lazy to do so.
Chev shifts in his seat, visibly reluctant to answer my question. It was Rexton. I know it. I feel it in my bones, and I dig my fingernails further into the flesh of my thigh. Rexton was so fucking weak. He hardly had any power.
I’m going to rip that pathetic man apart piece by piece.
“What did my mother tell you about Rexton?” I ask again.
Chev shrugs. “Nothing worth repeating.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Look,” Chev starts, “I’ve known you your entire life, Cassia. You’ve been quiet these past few days, and that means trouble. You didn’t kill Mammon, and I understand you’re disappointed about that, but you can’t take your anger out on others.”
“I can’t take my anger out on Rexton, you mean.”
“How do you feel about coming to stay with me for a few weeks?” Chev asks, changing the subject. “It’s been a while since you’ve spent time in the shifter realm, and the family would love to see you. It might be good to visit nature. It’s quite healing.”
Is he serious? “Did my parents put you up to this?”
“No.” Chev shakes his head. “Your parents are actually against this idea. They believe you should remain here and face your feelings head-on, but I disagree. This offer is my own.”
I uncurl my fingers, removing my nails from my thighs, but I keep my hands in my lap. Chev seems genuine, but I won’t accept his offer. I can’t leave Wrath if Rexton is the man who murdered Mammon. He has no power, but he’s charming.
He snuck his way into Mammon’s good graces, into the fucking royal family, and I refuse to let the same happen here. My parents would never force me to marry as Princess Amelia was, but that doesn’t mean they won’t welcome Rexton into the fold.
He’s going to infiltrate my family, infiltrate my kingdom, and I can’t let that happen.
I may not realistically be able to kill him, not without backlash, but that doesn’t mean I won’t put up a fight. I am Aziel’s heir and the rightful leader of Wrath. People need to know that I’m a better option than Rexton. Despite my failure and Rexton’s success, I’m the most qualified person to make decisions on behalf of the kingdom.
“My children and I are planning a hunt,” Chev continues. “It’s ucka season, and there have been sightings of some large males near the pack lands. We would be grateful to share our table with you.”
My lips twitch upward despite my best efforts not to smile. Chev and I share a love of ucka, and he’s notoriously greedy of his kills. The shifters are careful not to overhunt the animal, and those outside the shifter realm are rarely given access to fresh meat.
