Page 6 of Secrets and S'mores
“An exchange,” I repeat dumbly. “Who are you sending?”
“My own Heir, of course.” Her manicured fingers press to her temple as if to ward off a headache.
“Can’t you send Orion? Maybe I want to spend time with Jasper too.” I know I sound like a whiny child, but spending time in enemy territory sounds unbearable, especially after last night.
“You can catch up with your brother on your own time.”
Anger turns my mind sharp. “When would you have allowed that?”
“You had the gathering last night, didn’t you?”
A frustrated growl builds in my throat, but acting like a petulant child won’t change her decision. I have no autonomy here. Schooling my features to calm, I ask, “What is your goal for this visit? If I’m going to beshuttled off to our enemies, at least tell me what you’re trying to accomplish.”
Her lips thin, her features appearing predatory. “Daughter, you are going to visit your half-brother and his mate. You are going to be quiet and respectful. And if I require anything else from you, I’ll tell you so. Until then, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.”
The icy command hangs between us. Sienna sips her coffee and returns her gaze to her phone. Finally, my emotions calm enough to speak.
“Am I going alone?”
She sets her phone on the table with a snap. “Do you need a babysitter?”
“Of course not.” Masking my hurt with sarcasm, I force out a cold laugh. “Hopefully they won’t murder me in my sleep. Pretty sure you don’t have any other Heirs hidden around here to replace me.”
She rolls her eyes and with a dismissive flick of her wrist, opens her phone again.
Onyx
My joints ache as I drag myself from bed. Each beat of my pulse feels like a blow to my temple, and my skin feels too tight. Feet clumsy, I head straight to the kitchen, the smell of my mother’s cooking promising some relief.
Four people sit around our kitchen table, my parents and two guests. My mother pops up, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
“How do you look so peppy?” I ask Hazel with a groan. She sits beside Slate with a tense expression like I interrupted an important conversation.
My father, Fisher, sits forward with his forearms flat on the table and his hands neatly folded. His salt and pepper hair sweeps back off his forehead. Feeling self-conscious, I rake my fingers through my hair and it out of my face.
“Well, we didn’t drink like a dehydrated dolphin last night,” Hazel answers with a patronizing quirk of her eyebrow.
The glass of water is forced into my hands. My mother’s forehead wrinkles in concern as she discreetly hands me two pain pills. Do I really look that bad? “Thanks, Mom,” I mutter before downing the medication and water.
“Come join us,” she says, settling into a chair. Her cinnamon hair gleams bronze in the morning light. With a sigh, I slump into the seat between her and Slate.
“We were just discussing a proposal from the Granite Ridge pack,” Hazel explains. My hand freezes halfway to the basket of warm pastries in the center of the table. “Not that kind, obviously. Sienna would like Jasper and Marigold to visit them for a few days, and in return, she will send Ember to stay with us.”
“What?” I blurt, my mouth hanging open.
Her brows knit together. “Jasper and Marigold will go there, and Ember will stay with us. Like an exchange.”
“Is that necessary?” I ask.
“Not really,” Slate says. He lets out an audible exhale, his arms crossing. Hazel turns, her eyes narrowing at his reaction.
“You should get to know her. She’s your sister.” It sounds like an argument they’ve had before.
“Half-sister,” Slate grumbles.
I focus on the pastry selection and grab a brioche bun filled with blackberries my brother grew. It’s a cloud melting into sweet, sticky preserves. Being the son of the pack’s baker has its perks.
“So?” Hazel says, her voice rising in pitch. Irritation trickles through the pack bond.
