Chapter 15
As we dined, I scanned the entrance for Cassandra, eager to see her, and for her to see me.
She and Derek entered about midway through the breakfast rush, sitting several tables over. Exactly where I wanted them.
I sipped my coffee, pretending not to have seen. Cassandra watched me closely, probably expecting my skin to break out in a humiliating rash any moment now. I let her enjoy her
anticipation.
Mason leaned back in his chair, rubbing his belly with satisfaction. “I’m stuffed,” he said.
I was picking at the last of the fruit on my plate, my eyes darting to Cassandra and Derek’s table. I watched as she raised her napkin to daintily wipe the side of her mouth after a bite
of breakfast.
“You ready to go?” Mason asked.
“Not yet,” I said.
He followed my gaze and pressed his mouth into a thin line.
“Listen, Elena,” he started.
Then it happened.
I watched as Cassandra’s face contorted and she reached up to scratch at her cheek.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Mason tilted his head at me. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said with mock innocence, sipping the last dregs of my coffee.
Then there was a gasp, followed by a low murmur.
Angry red blotches bloomed across Cassandra’s cheeks, crawling down her neck like a
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spreading wildfire. Her fingers scratched at her skin frantically and her breathing quickened. She shot to her feet, knocking over her chair in her panic.
“What–what’s happening?” she shrieked.
All eyes in the room turned to her.
Derek stood, concern on his face. “Cassandra?”
Cassandra finally looked over at me, and her breath hitched, realization dawning in her wide, furious eyes.
She took a few stumbling steps toward our table. “You-” she started.
I gave her a concerned look. “Goddess,” I said. “That looks painful. You know, Acontium is
only supposed to be taken orally. You really ought to be more careful with your
medication.”
Her face would have turned red from rage if it wasn’t already covered in an angry rash. She
spun and fled the room, her hands covering her face.
Derek watched her go and then looked down at his half–eaten meal. He looked back and
forth between where Cassandra had fled and his breakfast a few times, and then hesitatingly sat down to finish his meal.
“What the hell was that about?” Mason asked.
I leaned back in my chair, feeling smug.
“Someone,” I said, looking pointedly at the door through which Cassandra had fled, “put some wolfsbane on my pillow. I was just returning the favor.”
Mason’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what you were talking with the hostess about?”
I leaned back. “The hostess has plausible deniability. I’m the one who put it on her napkin. I just asked the hostess to make sure she was seated in the right place.”
Mason shook his head. Just then, one of the event organizers came up to our table and
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Chapter 15
asked to speak with him.
He looked down at his watch.
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“Shoot,” he said, standing. “I’ve got to get to this meeting. I need to drop these papers off in my room first, but I’ll never get through the door with that damn lock. Do you mind doing it for me?”
“Sure,” I smiled, taking the room key he handed me. He swanned off and I stood to leave.
And turned right into Derek King’s chest.
His presence sent a ripple of energy through me, but I forced myself to remain indifferent.
He looked down at the room key in my hand, his expression darkening. “Were you with him all night?”
I sighed, my patience wearing thin. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
His jaw clenched. “Answer me.”
I lifted my chin, and met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. “You have Cassandra to worry about, Derek. Not me.”
He flinched as if I’d struck him. For a moment, something raw and vulnerable flicked
across his face, but I refused to let it sway me.
Before he could say another word, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. The Moonstone packhouse maid.
I answered, and my blood ran cold at her words. “Miss Elena, I’m calling about Aiden. He ran out of the pack grounds. He’s gone.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “What?”
“He’s–he’s missing.”
Panic surged through me.
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Derek noticed the change in my expression. “Elena? What’s wrong?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My mind was already racing.
I ended the call and stared at my phone.
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I had to find my son.
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