Chapter 131

Ava

I nearly dropped the coffee cups I was holding when I saw it. There, sitting up in the middle of the hospital bed, was Degas—his eyes open and alert as he talked animatedly with Chris.

“Degas,” I breathed as I ripped the curtain open. “You’re awake!”

The Elder turned to me with a weary smile. “Indeed I am, my dear,” he said with a raspy chuckle. “How long was I out?”

“Several hours,” Chris replied quickly. “You just collapsed in the middle of the ballroom.”

“Ah.” Degas furrowed his bushy eyebrows as though he was struggling to remember the moments leading up to his accident. “I see.”

Chris and I exchanged curious looks. I strode up to Chris and pressed his coffee cup in his hand, although I had already lost interest in mine and simply set it on the bedside table. “Do you remember what happened?” I asked.

Degas paused, thinking for a moment, before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Last I remember, I was… Yes, I was talking to your neighbor, Ava. What is her name…? She has a young boy.”

I furrowed my brow. “Gemma?” I asked.

Degas nodded animatedly. “Yes, Gemma. She was just sharing a bit of peanut brittle that she snuck into the event.” He paused to giggle like a young boy. “Why, I haven’t had peanut brittle in so long. It used to be my favorite when I was a child.”

Once again, Chris and I exchanged confused glances. Before I could speak, Chris said, “Degas, are you allergic to peanuts?”

“Why…” Degas furrowed his brow again before he shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Ah, well. Perhaps it was all too much excitement for an old wolf like me. I feel much better now, though.”

“Well… You had the whole pack worried,” I whispered as I strode up to Degas and enveloped him in a careful hug. “Really, we thought…”

“There, there, Ava,” Degas murmured, patting my back gently. “It’s alright. Old folks like me suffer from fainting spells all the time; low blood pressure, high blood sugar… Well, everything seems to be related to our blood, doesn’t it?” He snorted, eliciting a laugh from me. It seemed he was in good spirits.

Sniffling, I pulled back and shot Chris a tense smile. He returned it with a solemn nod and gestured toward the chair, prompting me to sit down.

“Let me just call Juniper,” I said, slipping my phone out of my pocket. “I’m sure she’ll want to come see her father.”

Degas smiled at me, his face soft with affection, and nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m quite alright now, though I’d be grateful for a chance to rest. We can speak properly in the morning.”

By the time Juniper arrived a little while later—her eyes swollen and her cheeks red from tears—Degas was already snoozing once again. The doctor confirmed that Degas seemed stable for now, and that everything would be fine until morning. I was so relieved that I barely protested when Chris insisted on walking me home rather than staying by the Elder’s side for the rest of the night.

…

By the time we finally reached the front path of my cottage, the first rays of dawn were just beginning to peek over the horizon. It was an exceptionally misty morning, the skies clouded over and the trees just barely poking through the dense haze. All around us, the world was teeming with the sounds of the early birds. Although, I was so exhausted from the events of the evening that I could barely keep my eyes open.

Chris stopped at the end of the path with me, his eyes ringed with dark circles and his hair tousled. Our buzz from the ball had long since turned into an aching hangover, and right now, I wanted to collapse into bed more than anything.

Preferably with him beside me. But even then, Elise’s words kept flashing through my mind.

A warning? Or an outright threat?

“Ava, I owe you an apology,” Chris suddenly blurted out, breaking me out of my haze. “I shouldn’t have… Well, I didn’t mean to imply that you would be my mistress or my… concubine. I’m just in a panic, that’s all. I love you. I don’t want to let you go.”

The mention of last night’s whole debacle felt both horrifying and silly at the same time. I opened my mouth, but no words would come. Standing there, seeing the sincerity in his green eyes with the mist behind him, gave me pause.

Instead, all I could murmur was, “I know.”

For a long moment, the two of us just stood there—still dressed in our damn formal attire—and looked at each other, as though committing one another’s features to memory. I wanted to burn his face into my mind in that moment; the sharp outline of his jaw, his downward sloping nose, his long eyelashes.

Without entirely meaning to, I gently reached out and touched his cheek—hesitantly, but without pulling back.

A soft smile came across his face as he leaned into my palm.

“I love you, Ava,” he whispered softly. “I do. I don’t want anyone else.”

My chest burned in response. With my breath caught in my throat, I quickly pulled away and turned, just wanting to leave before any tears came. Chris said nothing as I began striding up the path.

But then my steps faltered as a memory that I had nearly forgotten in the wake of Degas’s miraculous recovery came to mind—the two Omegas. The supposed drug deal.

I turned, my mouth hanging open. Chris was still standing at the end of the path with his hands in his pockets, politely waiting for me to get inside like a gentleman, and cocked an eyebrow at me. “What is it?” he asked.

“Did the coroner do a drug test on the Omega girl?” I blurted out.

Chris blinked at me several times in surprise before he shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably. Why?”

“Make sure to get the results,” I said. “I learned something…” I paused, glancing over my shoulder as though we might have been overheard, before I rushed forward and gripped his arm. “...Apparently the girl who died was seen taking a baggie from a hooded figure.”

Chris’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Who told you this?”

“Her roommate; the other Omega who was also being abused by Olivia. She said that she kept sneaking out at night, and one night she followed her and found her in the midst of what seemed like a drug deal.”

For a long moment, Chris simply gaped at me, almost as though he were trying to decide if I was pulling his leg. When I tightened my grip on his arm and did nothing to show that I was lying, he finally seemed to understand.

Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “We’ll talk later. My office?”

I nodded and released his arm, taking a step back. “Tonight. I think it might be best if we keep this conversation private.”

Chris nodded. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

On instinct, I opened my mouth to spill the rest—to tell him about Elise’s threat, the new layer of reasons why I was pushing him away. But then I snapped it shut again, because behind Chris, I saw movement.

Curtains fluttering in my neighbor’s window; a face pressed to the glass, a face which quickly disappeared as soon as I glanced over.

“No,” I said, straightening. “Goodnight, Chris.”