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“No,” I interrupted. “We won’t be attending.”

My mother’s tone remained even, although her words were thinly veiled in anger. “Oh dear, I believe you mistook this as me asking. You will be in attendance. Don’t forget that your father and I allow you to live the life you choose to, but we can also put an end to that and make you fulfill your duties as the future head of the family.”

I made a futile attempt to point out the truth. “Jackson is—”

“Lacking in many areas. You are and have always been the child we’ve prayed for, Elias. I don’t understand why you won’t accept your God given rights. You were born to lead. To have as many children as possible. The world would be a better place if my grandchildren were in it.”

The sound of the shower shutting off, coupled with my desire to maintain some control over my day and my emotions, pushed me into a conditional agreement. “We will be there if you can promise to not parade me around like some show dog.”

My mother’s laugh, meant to be light, was empty of any amusement or warmth, the noise making my skin crawl. “When have we ever done anything close to that, Elias? We’re proud of who you are. We don’t understand why you aren't.”

I hung up just as Delaney stepped back into the room. He glanced at me, his warm gaze holding an unreadable emotion, but he didn’t push and I was thankful. I watched silently as he styled his hair, his soft humming mingling with his scent and soothing my anxiety like a balm. I decided to broach the subject with a casual air of nonchalance. “My parents are hosting a dinner. I would love for you to go with me. If you’d like to.”

He continued doing his hair, his eyes trained on the comb sliding through the ends. After a pause he responded, “Do you want to go?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” I truthfully answered.

“Would it make the night easier for you if I was there?”

“Much.”

“Then I’ll go.” His eyes curved with a shy smile.

The small bit of warmth and appreciation I felt towards him was nearly smothered out by the oppressive weight of my anxiety as I ruminated on what the night would hold.

Chapter Thirteen

Usually, I was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected when attending formal events. Tonight, however, was a different story. I knew meeting Eli's parents had certain implications for our… situationship… and as much as I was still trying to come to terms with how I felt about him, I did want to make a good impression.

“Did you really need to take off the entire day for this?” Tristin asked, an eyeroll heavy in his tone as he sat in my walk-in closet, watching me get dressed.

I finished buttoning up my shirt, nodding. “Yes. I had to get fitted for slacks and find the perfect shoes.” I stepped into the velvet loafers and turned to face him. “What do you think?”

“You wear entirely too much black.”

Doubt trampled my voice as I argued with him. “I always add a pop of color.” I glanced down at my outfit; my bottom lip held between my teeth and eyebrows furrowed. I was wearing a black dress shirt and black, slim fit, tapered slacks, yet my loafers were the color of red wine, and I had matching cuff links and bow tie set aside.

“Be that as it may, let’s get your hair together.” Tristin checked his watch and clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. “We only have an hour to make you look presentable. I’m not a miracle worker, dear.”

I flipped him off, pushing past him to sit at my vanity. “If I wasn’t so nervous, I would thoroughly curse you out.”

“I would ask why you’re nervous, but you’re meeting his parents, at a formal dinner, almost four months into–” Tristin paused, his head tilting to the side as he pursed his lips. “Have you guys defined the relationship?”

“There is no relationship,” I stated. “We just enjoy each other’s company.”

Tristin mumbled under his breath. “Sure.” With more confidence, he pointed out, “You spend a lot of time with him. Even on our days.”

“That was once.”

“Thrice.” Tristin emphasized his correction by pulling the brush through my hair with no regard to my scalp. “But who’s counting? Do you think he’s—”

I quickly interrupted, “If the next words out of your mouth are ‘the one’ I will cause you great bodily harm. And I’ve told you many times to start at the ends of my hair! Sadist.” I glared at him in the mirror; my lip curled in disdain.

Tristin’s smile was a slow spreading, shit eating grin as he finished his sentence, “—the one?” The scuffle that ensued left me huffing for breath while he nursed a bite to his wrist. “Feral,” he growled between clenched teeth.

“Finish up my hair and then leave. He should be here any minute.”

Tristin finished my hair with seconds to spare, separating my curls into three equal horizontal parts and fashioning each into buns; however, he took his time leaving. I was dragging him to the front door to push him out, just as Eli walked up. Tristin's eyes widened as he looked over at Eli and back at me. “He is your alpha?!”