Page 126 of The Rust in Her Hair

I'm okay. I promise I'm okay.

"Your father will want proof." Lavinia’s voice climbs, brisk now, moving into logistics. "He'll want to see the mark himself, and he'll want to meet whoever this—" she pauses like she’s trying to remember his name, "—this Aaron is."

"Adrian,” I say it clearly. "His name is Adrian."

"That’s fine," she says like she’s distracted. "Come to the house tonight at nine o'clock. We'll have dinner. Have your alpha dress appropriately."

Then the line goes dead.

She's hung up before I can say a word.

"Well, that was fun,” I say as Nico lowers the phone, relieved this part is over.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mack practically explodes. "That's your mama? You been gone a whole damn month, and she doesn't know if you're alive or dead in a ditch somewhere, and she gets you on the phone and can't be bothered to even ask if you're hurt?" He drags both hands through his hair and turns in a circle in the small room, too much anger for the space. "Not one word. Not are you safe, not are you okay, not a goddamn thing that a mother's supposed to—" He stops. "I've known that woman for ninety seconds and I want to burn her goddamn house down."

Adrian's up and across the room before Mack finishes. He wraps him up, one hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him into a hug.

Mack lets himself be held, but he doesn't stop.

"Scheduled her own kid in for nine o'clock," he mutters into Adrian's shoulder. "Like a girl she's fixing to fire."

And God help me, I smile for real this time.

Because he's so damn upset on my behalf, and I have never in my life had someone furious for me. And it feels amazing.

"I'm coming tonight." Owen stands. His voice comes out quiet and controlled, and that's how I know how angry he is. "I can't sit in this house knowing you're there, Lyra. I can’t."

"Damn right." Mack lifts his head off Adrian's shoulder. "We're all going. Every one of us."

"I want to come," Renata says, brightening. "I've never seen a rich lady get decked. I'll bring snacks."

"No," Nico says firmly.

"I'd be excellent backup." She looks up at her brother, begging with her eyes. "You've seen me throw a punch. If things go sideways, you'll want me in that room."

Nico levels a look at her that I feel in my own spine.

"Fine." She slumps, pouting, and mutters something in Spanish that makes Nico's eye twitch.

But under my even breath, the panic is already rising inside me. It’s cold and fast, filling my chest.

Nine o'clock. Tonight. In that house.

I turn in Nico's lap and wind my arms around his neck. His hand comes up to the small of my back, spreading warm and wide, and I press my lips to the heat of his throat.

"It's going to be okay," I whisper, but we both know I’m talking to myself. "One night and I’m done with them forever."

Then I gather up the cold spike of dread churning inside me, and I shove it down deep where Nico can't feel it. I flood our bond with warmth instead, with calm, and all the confidence I can muster.

Because the truth is, I'm terrified out of my mind.

But Nico has enough to carry tonight. He doesn't need to carry this too.

The Calm Before

Adrian

The best shirt I own has a bleach stain on the cuff.