Page 66 of Siren’s Secret

Irishen nodded. “Probably thanks to Wayla—Wave. Fuck, we need to be careful about that one in public.”

Now it was Jarred’s turn to nod. “And you need to keep an eye on all the mates you drop around, too. Or is that going to be public knowledge?”

“Depends on Wayla. With how things are going, she might want to keep that under wraps.”

“How does that make you feel?” Jarred asked knowingly.

“Fucking pissed.” Irishen grinned. “But I can deal. I want to make her life easier, not harder.”

Their conversation died down when a harried-looking Wave rushed out the door with an equally flushed Chrissy on her heels. The moment Chrissy’s eyes landed on them, she shrieked.

“You let her out in public looking like last year’s tramp! How could yo—”

Jarred scowled. “Watch it.”

Chrissy was undeterred. “She has an image to uphold and every crack in her armor will give an opening for the idiots trying to tear her down!”

“So about that,” Irishen said calmly. “I need you to plan and execute a full wardrobe for Wayla that we can have at my place.”

That shut Chrissy up and a calculating gleam entered her eyes. Wave was about to object, so Jarred used his most effective distraction technique and kissed her hard.

“You paying for all that, Prince Sleethill?”

“Absolutely,” Irishen replied easily. “And make sure everything has pockets.”

Damn, the man was smooth when he wanted to be. Jarred couldn’t help but chuckle, and Wave took that moment to punch his stomach and step away.

“I don’t need—”

“Of course you do.” Chrissy rolled over her. “Now get to class. I’ll have something ready for you tonight and the rest by the end of the week.”

“Thank you, Christiana Spindle. I’ll be in your debt,” Irishen replied formally, sealing the deal.

They piled back into Irishen’s sports car with groans and he gave a sigh when he looked at Wave wriggling onto Jarred’s lap.

“Okay. What kind of car do you want me to have?”

Chapter 34 – Marc

Marc was waiting for Wayla outside of her classroom. This had gone on long enough. She had been back at the Academy for a week and they hadn’t spoken a word to each other. How had she managed to avoid him for that long? Or had it been him avoiding her?

Fuck if he knew.

The last time he had spoken to her had been to tell her to stay fucking inside and out of Hell Moon’s power surges. She hadn’t. That was over a month ago. It had all gone from one shit show to another lately with him losing his shit over Salis, and Hellion doing the same over Irishen. Followed by her little meltdown and the fucking attack on neutral ground.

That would have been enough to mess up any relationship as it was, but the hits just kept coming. Waiting for the trial, then they all learned she was an heir apparent. A stormbringer heir apparent. Fucking royalty. The change in her perceived status and power was staggering.

Officially, she could now go toe to toe with Hellion with no repercussions in that regard.

And Marc still couldn’t figure out what had Sinister so twisted up. The male seemed to be constantly on alert and he was glued to his phone. Even Grant had stopped throwing his jibes about Rose.

Their cellar had never seen as much action as these couple of weeks. The wards needed constant updating. Frankly, Marc wanted to be there right now, punching something, not waiting his ex-fake-girlfriend out. Except that he couldn’t justify his avoidance any longer.

Not after Esserieh Brokenstar’s little visit.

Wayla had just walked out of the house with him and neither she nor Jarred had answered their phones after. The only reason Marc wasn’t fully flipping out was Irishen fucking Sleethill of all beings. He had sent Justin a text, letting him know they were all fine.

He glanced at the clock on the wall just as Salis walked into view with Diana.