Chapter 105

Agnes

Elijah had some matters to attend to at work that day—although I had a sinking feeling that he was just avoiding the awkwardness of what had happened last night, and I couldn’t even blame him—and Thea was still resting in her room with a stomach ache, so I had the house to myself for most of that day.

I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, the ancient spellbook open in my lap, my fingers tracing the faded runes on the pages. My legs were starting to fall asleep from sitting for so long, and I sat up, rubbing my bleary eyes.

Hours. And nothing to show for it.

I had been at it for hours, flipping through the strange old book in search of anything that could help break the mate bond between Elijah and Olivia. Even if I could just find a hint at a spell or something to share with Elijah, that would be enough—a promise that he had a way out. That we both had a way out.

Of course, if I found anything, I wouldn’t force him or go behind his back. I just wanted to show him that there were options.

And that I was here to help him if he needed. I was his Luna, after all—his partner, his right hand, and now… his lover.

But so far, I had come up empty-handed. The text was just too dense, and most of it was too worn from age to be easily read. A lot of the entries were completely obscure, detailing strange, antiquated potions for combating menstrual cramps and stimulants to strengthen one’s wolf.

Hardly anything useful for either of our purposes.

What’s more, as I flipped toward the back of the book, I noticed that some pages were missing. They had been torn out, it seemed, leaving jagged edges where they had once been.

I frowned, running my fingers over the empty spaces. Had someone removed them intentionally? Or was it just the wear and tear of time?

Sighing, I made a mental note to ask Gertrude about it on Monday. If anyone would know if something had happened to the pages—or if there was another copy of the book somewhere in the library—it would be her.

Just as I was about to close the book and take a break or maybe even give up fr good, the doorbell rang. I set the book aside and made my way downstairs. But when I opened the door, I immediately wished I hadn’t.

Olivia was standing on the porch with a basket of goodies in her hands and a saccharine smile on her face.

“Agnes,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she held up the basket. “I heard my little girl wasn’t feeling well. I thought I’d bring her some treats to cheer her up.”

I stared at her, my mind racing. How had she heard about Thea? And why was she here, of all people, pretending to care?

“Thea’s sick because you forced her to eat all those sweets yesterday,” I said before I could stop myself. After last night, I wasn’t in the type of mood today to be nice to Olivia.

Olivia’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered, her eyes flashing with something that looked like anger. “I never forced her to do anything,” she said sharply. “Thea’s a big girl. She can make her own choices.”

I clenched my jaw, having to force myself to bite back the retort that was threatening to spill out. Thea was a child, and Olivia knew exactly what she was doing when she had plied her with sweets. She was trying to manipulate both her and Elijah at the same time.

But arguing with her wouldn’t do any good, I figured.

“Well, Thea’s sleeping,” I said, stepping aside to let Olivia into the foyer. “You can leave the basket, but you can’t see her right now.”

Olivia’s smile returned, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to disturb my little angel.”

I watched as she stepped inside, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She set the basket on the table, carefully arranging its contents: some pink tulips, chocolates, assorted tea bags, and a stuffed animal.

I knew that Thea wouldn’t eat the chocolates with her stomach upset, and she’d been too obsessed with her stuffed bear to care about any other plushies. The basket felt more like a gift for Olivia than Thea.

But as she straightened, her gaze swept over me, and I could tell the moment she noticed it—the faint scent of Elijah that still lingered on my skin despite the bath I’d taken earlier.

Her eyes narrowed, and a sly smile curled her lips. “I heard you and Elijah were dancing quite… sensually at the club last night,” she said, tilting her head to the side. If she knew that we had slept together, she didn’t say anything. But I could tell that she could scent it on me.

I felt a flush of heat rise to my cheeks, but I kept my expression as neutral as possible. “We’re husband and wife,” I said, folding my arms tightly across my chest. “Dancing is part of the relationship.”

Her gaze flicked to where my arms were crossed, noticing my tension. This only seemed to satisfy her even more. “Of course. And if Elijah wants to use you for physical release while we’re divorced, I wouldn’t blame him. When we were together, he was insatiable, after all.”

I bristled at her words, forcibly having to shove images of the two of them making love out of my mind. But I refused to stoop to her level. Instead, I forced a smile and said, “Thank you for the basket. I’ll make sure Thea gets it.”

You’re welcome.” She straightened and picked an invisible fleck of dust off her jacket, carelessly flicking it onto the floor. “I hope she feels better soon.” I didn’t respond.

She turned to leave after that, but just as she reached the door, I remembered the shredded clothes from yesterday. I’d gotten so caught up in the events of the day that I’d nearly forgotten. Nearly. But not entirely. And I wasn’t about to let her leave without saying something about it.

“Olivia,” I called out.

She paused, glancing over her shoulder with her hand daintily resting on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Was that you yesterday?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. “Were you the one who destroyed my outfits?”

Olivia’s lips curled into a sneer, although she didn’t confirm it. Instead, she simply raised an eyebrow at me with a smug look in her eyes, as if she wanted me to know it was her without having to say it out loud. Perhaps she wanted me to lash out at her—to give her fuel against me when she ultimately tried to pull Elijah back into her grasp.

“But I never said I was the one who did it,” she might have said between tears, touching the red mark on her cheek where I might have slapped her had she gotten her way. “She just attacked me, assuming it was me!”

But much to her chagrin, I just smiled sweetly. “Thank you for that,” I said. “Some of the garments actually came out better once some changes were made. The show was a massive success. But then again, I’m sure you’ll see it on the news today.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped open at my insult, her eyes widening in shock as if she never expected me to succeed against all odds.

But before she could respond, I stormed over and swung the door open, gesturing for her to leave with a hard look in my eyes. She let out an indignant hmph, adjusting her designer purse on her shoulder, and stepped out.

“You know, Agnes—” she began, whirling to face me on the front step.

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. With a curl of my lip, I slammed the door in her face.