Page 340 of Hell Hath No Fury

And then it did.

At the head of the middle table, his son and daughter-in-law to his left, Elijah Delouxe rose from his black armchair and cleared his throat.

That was all that was needed. The room descended into silence almost immediately, and then the Alpha of Peridot’s Nightingale spoke. “Welcome, and Happy Thanksgiving.”

Rose’s attention wasn’t on him, and as Elijah droned on about being thankful and whatever else, I looked down the table and reared back a little.

Headmaster Taurin was here. I was almost too scared to see who else I might recognize. About to search anyway, Taurin then lifted his drink our way before taking a sip.

I frowned, then looked at Rose.

She was staring down at her plate, her cheeks crimson.

Looking back at Taurin, I saw him redirect his smirk toward Elijah. The room grew loud with chatter as Elijah retook his seat.

My stomach began to quake, and I set down my fork. “Rose, why are you blushing?”

Something wasn’t adding up, but the sense of knowing inside me begged to be paid attention.

I wasn’t sure she was going to answer me as she sucked on her lips. Then her eyes closed momentarily, and she murmured, “It’s him.”

My frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes collided with mine, wet with fear. “I tried to call you, Cooper. I mean, I didn’t even know how I was going to say it, but I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve said something.”

Realization hit me like a kick to the head. It was him.

He’d been there. Now he was here.

“He was…” I couldn’t even finish, couldn’t bring myself to ask her how she even knew. “Fuck, Rose.” I could hardly stand to remain seated. And looking back at the smug prick, I decided fuck that, and made to stand.

Duty be damned. I’d shown my face.

The school headmaster had fucked my girlfriend. If I didn’t leave, something worse than repercussions for skipping out early was going to happen.

But Elijah rose once more. “Unfortunately, we have a matter that needs to be dealt with.”

I lowered back to the seat, my eyes blurred with fury and rage and self-loathing. Not enough that I didn’t see the short, baldingman being dragged into the room from a door that blended into the wall behind Elijah.

Jude, Elijah’s son, dropped his fork and slid his hand under the table to his wife’s. As far as I knew, their marriage had been arranged, yet there he was, looking for all the world as though he actually gave a shit about the girl he’d bullied last year.

I shook my head, rolled my shoulders, and grabbed an ownerless glass of champagne from the table, downing half of it as the room crackled with static that touched every single one of us.

Two beefy guys hauled the balding man closer, jerking him to a stop between Elijah and January. “Joel Mullen, evidence of your treachery has been brought forward. How do you plead?”

“Sir?” Joel sputtered, his mottled cheeks wobbling. “No, not me. I swear to you.”

Elijah moved to a small dais behind his chair, keeping his back to the rest of us as he perused something we could not see. Gasps sounded as everyone glanced up at the ceiling to find the painted clouds and skylights had been replaced with sordid picture after picture of the man in question and a woman whose face had been blacked out.

I looked at Rose, who gulped, then took the remainder of my champagne from my hand to polish it off.

“Not only did you betray and steal from a woman who allowed you into her life, who helped you gain entry into our tight-knit society but you lie too.” Elijah tutted, then switched the projector off and turned around, his hands folded before him as he licked his lips. “You married a Nightingale. You were given keys to a kingdom many will never even know about. Riches beyond measure, the upper hand wherever you go, illicit activities at your fingertips…” Elijah sighed. “I’d ask what reason you have to behave like such trash, but I know it will never suffice.”

Not one person was eating, I noticed, not even January Denane, second in command and sharper than any blade. Seated on Elijah’s right, she was watching her daughter, Jude’s wife, as though she might leap across the table and remove her from the room.

The hair at my nape lifted as a shiver crawled down my spine.

“It will never happen again. I swear it,” Joel Mullen stammered. “And I’ve told no one,no one, of our beloved community.”