Page 168 of Bliss & Her Idols

After my parents were shockingly arrested and then killed, my brothers and I became each other’s worlds. We chose to love each harder, rather than let the worst thing that could have happened to us break us apart.

Why did Torin’s parents’ deaths do the opposite to his family?

Or were the problems already there?

Torin’s eyes are hard like cold glass. He’s been stiff and silent from the moment that we left his bedroom, leading the way through the imposing hush of the manor next to Rory.

Rory casts Torin quick glances like a kicked puppy.

I don’t know what to make of Rory.

Did he mean his apology?

Rory is one of the prettiest Alphas I’ve seen, but also, one of the most confusing.

He’s been harsh as Jin’s manager. He betrayed Torin to the Head Alpha, leading to Torin being exiled from the pack.

Yet he’s also the closest in age to Torin. I know what it’s like to crave a relationship with your brother.

Rory practically vibrates with his desperation to be loved around Torin. Rory isn’t ignoring his brother. It feels more likehe’sthe one who is begging to be seen.

But why?

What’s truly going on in this pack of beautiful but troubled Alphas?

The formal dining room has high molded ceilings in dazzling white. Light washes through from the wall to ceiling domedwindows, which look out over the terrace and manicured rose garden.

The white walls have been painted with giant musical notes in duck egg blue. A modern light hangs from the ceiling like three tangled guitars.

A vast mahogany table runs the length of the room. It gleams mirror-like. It’s been laid with platters of pastries, fresh fruit, sweet potato pancakes, sage scented sausages, and crispy bacon.

My stomach grumbles.

I’d forgotten how long it has been since I’ve eaten.

A willowy woman in her forties sits in the high backed chair at the head of the table. She’s dressed in a simple, white dress and no jewellery.

She doesn’t need the adornments. She’s as classically beautiful as a Grecian statue.

I could have told that she was Torin’s sister, Una, by the shade of her long, black hair, however, which falls gently to her shoulders with glints of gray threading through it.

Also, by her blue eyes.

The startling difference, however, is that they’re not hunter cold like Torin’s are.

Instead, they’re doe-soft.

“There you are,” Una says in a dreamy voice. “We were about to send out a rescue mission.”

Rory stumbles, hitting his hip into the side of the table, rattling the plates.

He winces. “Sorry, Una. We’re here now. This is—”

“We know who the Omegas are, dumbass. We were watching the show. It was riveting.” A handsome man, who appears about a decade younger than Una, drawls.

Now, this man is definitely a hunter.

“Like a car crash,” the man, who is sprawled in the chair next to him on the far side of the table and looks identical to him, adds with a smirk.

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