Page 35 of Pretty When She Breaks
“Why did you bring this home?” I growled, shoving the fabric back at Ocean.
Kaos’s hand shot out again as he snatched it out of the air, winding it around his hand and wrist.
Ocean shrugged. “Sharing is caring, right?”
“Where did you even get this?” I asked.
Ocean looked smug again, his hands starting to weave braids into Kaos’s hair. This was dangerous. Kaos had beenfurious last night after Ocean’s news, and I didn’t like that I couldn’t get a read on him right now.
“She came to my room last night with a basket of gifts,” he said.
“So, what? She was trying to manipulate you?” I asked.
Ocean’s face morphed into something thoughtful. “You know, I see why you say that. But I actually don’t think so. When I first met her last night, she didn’t catch my scent. And she was what we expected—aloof and poised and perfect. But when she talked to me, she changed. It’s like I got a glimpse of the real her.”
Kaos squeezed his eyes shut, stroking the fabric around his wrist. His fist was clenched so tight, his skin was turning white.
“When she came to my door, she wasn’t all dolled up. She was wearing this oversized hoodie and didn’t even have shoes on. She looked so sweet. And she went bright red and was fumbling through her words. Not at all like what you'd expect. I mean, what if she’s not that bad? What if we can convince her to help us? And get our omega?”
“No. It will never happen,” Kaos said, his eyes snapping open and looking at Ocean.
“Oh. Thought you wanted an omega?” Ocean said, looking hesitant for the first time.
“Not her,” Kaos spat at him.
Ocean’s face flashed with something, and he opened his mouth.
“Enough, Ocean,” I snapped. “We have to stick to theplan.”
Kaos nodded, his face dark. I didn’t think he’d noticed that he was rubbing the ribbon under his chin now, his dark eyes far away.
“Sure,” Ocean said finally, and started humming as he continued to braid Kaos’s hair.
None of us mentioned what was glaringly obvious. As soon as her scent had hit him, Kaos settled in the bond. It was the calmest I’d ever felt him.
SIXTEEN
OCEAN
I knocked on the door to Finch’s room and slipped inside. He was on his mat, working out his troubles on the punching bag he kept in here.
When I settled down on the bed, he didn’t tell me to leave, so I counted that as a win. I stayed quiet, watching him adjust his stance and punch again.
“We can’t afford distractions,” he said, finally.
“You talking about the Duchess?”
He glared at me, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off his brow. “Yes, I’m talking about the Duchess.”
“What’s so bad about having a scent match?”
He snorted. “Nothing. If we use it to our advantage.”
“She’s a person,” I said softly.
She’d had a mask, but it had slipped with me. She’d clung to my side in the suite, letting me in. And she’d sought me out last night, dressed down, brining me a present. She was a talented actress, but there was something sweet and vunerable underneath.
“I think she’s hurting,” I added.
