Page 125 of The Rust in Her Hair

Nico turns back to the couch, then flicks two fingers at Renata. "Up."

"I just got comfortable." She heaves off the couch like the cushions are dragging her back down, groaning the whole way, then she drops into the empty loveseat Mack left. "Happy?"

Nico takes her spot beside me. Then his hands are at my waist and he lifts me into his lap, settling me against his chest. One thick arm bands low across my thighs, then he holds the phone out to me.

"Put in her number."

I key it in and hand the phone back. Nico thumbs the speaker on, then sets it face-up on his palm between us.

It rings twice.

"Lavinia Van Houten." My mother's voice comes through the little speaker, clipped and cold, already annoyed. "Who is this?"

My whole body practically shrivels. My shoulders curl and my stomach drops, and for one horrible second I'm eleven years old again, standing in her study waiting to be told how I've ruined their lives by presenting as an omega.

Then Nico floods our bond.

Warmth pours down the line, steady and dark and certain, his strength pressing into every cold place inside me. It doesn't fix it. But it props me up enough to lift my chin.

"Mother. It's me."

Silence.

I hear her breathing. Then a rustle, the click of heels on marble, and a door drawing shut somewhere on her end. The bright hum of voices in the background fades to nothing as she finds a private room.

"Lyra," she says my name in the same flat tone she always does. "You've called at a poor time. I'm at the club."

Mack's mouth falls open, rage and shock pouring out of him. He mouths something ugly at the phone, before flipping it the middle finger.

That instantly makes me smile.

"I apologize for interrupting your morning." I hear myself slide into a polished tone. Polite and distant. I’m just a woman on a call she’d like to keep short. "I won't take much of your time. I only wanted you to know that I'm safe."

"Have you been mated?"

Yup. That tracks.

No relief that I'm alive, or any questions about where I've been for a month. Just the one thing that actually matters to her.

"Lyra," she repeats, talking louder. "Have you been mated?"

I look up at Adrian as I lean against Nico’s chest.

Adrian is leaning forward in the folding chair, forearms on his knees, and when our eyes meet, his whole face shifts. He gives me a smile so full of love it steadies my hands.

"Yes," I say, my voice rising with pride. "I have."

"By whom?"

I look up at Nico, staring deep into his dark eyes. Nico nods once, before I answer. "Adrian Bennett. He's a good alpha. He's been taking wonderful care of⁠—"

"Do you have a mating bite?"

I pull in a slow breath, trying not to grit my teeth. "Yes. He has marked me."

The sound she makes is small and displeased, the same sound she makes at a wine she intends to send back.

Owen shifts on the arm of the couch next to me, and I glance at him. The beta has gone rigid, his jaw hard, fury coming off him in waves. I slide my free hand over his and press down.