Page 98 of Knot What She Seems
A sheepish soldier slinks out of the meeting room behind her as Oliver does some quick dialing on his cell.
Mother spots me. “Brylee, it’s nice to see you, but I don’t have time?—”
“Unfortunately, it’s urgent,” I state, interrupting her. While the shock of my audacity makes my knees tremor slightly, I lift my chin and am able to keep my gaze steady.
Blue eyes sparking, she jerks her head toward the door she just exited, and then I follow her in.
“Don’t look at the maps,” she instructs sharply as Oliver closes the door to give us privacy.
My eyes dart away from the ground plans spread across the meeting table, but not before I notice several have alarming shades of red drawn near our larger cities.
Anxiety whispers in my ear, but I try to ignore it as I plant my feet and fold my hands. “Mom, I’ve been to see Teddie.”
Immediately, her brow drops, and she gives me a look that could wither the roses outside. “Is that what this is about? I thought you were coming to formally accept Brock’s pack. There are real problems at hand, Brylee.”
Shocked at her sudden outburst and lightning-fast change in topic, I’m dazed for a moment. But as she turns on her heel to leave, my hand snaps out and I latch onto her shoulder. She turns slowly back, embers blazing in her eyes.
Once, her look would have cowed me. Not today. “Teddie’s not getting better.”
She scoffs. “You have no idea what you’re?—”
“No. You have no idea.” I’ve interrupted her twice, but I don’t even have time to marvel at that, because I can already see the dismissive look in her eyes. “Just last night, he couldn’t even stand. He’s not?—”
The door swings open, and both our gazes swivel toward the intruder, ready to make them rue their day.
“Morning!” Teddie stands there in a robin’s egg blue suit with hair that still looks damp. “Sorry I’m late, Mom. Worst case of food poisoning ever last night.” He walks over to her and presses a quick kiss to her expectant cheeks before glancing over at me with a raised brow. “What’s the matter, baby sister?”
I study his face, disbelieving. There are still prominent bags under his eyes and a few broken blood vessels, but those can easily be explained away by his lie. I know for a fact that he’s skin and bones beneath that suit, but the clothes disguise his condition well.
“Your sister here is not only delaying an excellent match with Brock, but her overactive imagination has her wound up. She seems to think you were dying last night. Typical omega theatrics,” Mother says as she takes Teddie’s arm and leads him from the room, her entire demeanor changed.
My mother leaves me behind, but my brother does pull back. “One second. I just want a word with Brylee.”
She gives me a condescending look, as though I’m in for a lecture, before heading toward Oliver. I hear the phrases “over-the-top” and “bring a car for her” drifting back as my brother squares off against me.
“What are you doing?” I hiss between my teeth. “You need help.”
My brother looks toward the doorway to make sure we aren’t overheard, and then he leans down, giving me a hug in order to disguise his next words. “Maybe, but other people need it more right now. A battalion was taken out early this morning. One that was on a secret recon mission.”
“What?” Horror colors my tone, and the maps on the table take on a whole new meaning.
Teddie pulls back, and the look in his eyes is solemn. “The war is going far worse than anyone thinks. And I need to help. Otherwise, you won’t be talking to Mom about medicine and which alpha group to marry. If the Noths take over, they’ll simply fucking claim you.”
A frantic sort of dread throws me off balance as the walls appear to close in around me.
I was claimed before by a group of Noth alphas. Sold and claimed.
The nightmares clamor inside my skull, and it’s a fight to silence them. To make myself the promise that no matter what happens, I’ll never be claimed by Noths again.
By the time I win the battle inside my head, my brother is gone.
I’m alone in a meeting room full of maps demarcating destruction as the windows allow cheery beams of sunlight to shine down on the blood-red battlefields.
34
RIDGE
I smootha hand over my blond hair as I wait to be called on.
