Page 22

Emmie

Three days of peace with Jude have given me a strength I didn’t know I possessed. I’d only been home to get clean clothes and reassure Mom that I was fine, and she’d been too busy with her new position to ask too many questions.

But Monday morning brings me back to reality.

I approach the Range Rover with my usual reluctance, only to freeze when I see who’s behind the wheel.

Beck Silver sits in the driver’s seat, his dark hair perfectly styled despite the early hour. Our eyes meet, and I feel that familiar jolt of recognition, of unwanted attraction that I’ve been trying to suppress since that night in Boston.

I slide across the back seat just as Romeo jogs up from the manor house, his backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. He seems surprised to see his father driving but doesn’t comment, settling into the seat beside me rather than the passenger seat.

He grunts with his usual morning surliness.

“Morning, Jolie,” Beck says, glancing back at me. “How was your weekend? Quiet, I hope?”

There’s something pointed in his tone that makes me defensive. “Actually, no. I had a date, so it was quite eventful.”

Beck’s phone rings at that moment, filling the car with the sound.

“Silver,” Beck answers through the Bluetooth, his attention shifting to whoever’s on the other end.

From my periphery, I watch Romeo’s jaw tighten almost imperceptibly before he hisses under his breath. “A date?”

“Mmm. Very nice evening. We watched movies, had dinner.” I let a small smile play on my lips. “I’m sure I had just as much fun as you did at your brother’s party.”

His knuckles whiten where they grip his phone. “What makes you think I had fun?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seemed to enjoy yourself thoroughly from what I could see.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I immediately regret the petty dig.

Romeo twists in his seat to face me more fully, his gray eyes dangerous. “Were you watching from your window like a lonely voyeur again?”

“I told you, I had a date,” I reply, my voice even. “I just happened to notice the...performance art happening in your pool house while I was getting ready.”

“Performance art?” His voice is barely a whisper now.

“Three people, wasn’t it? Very avant-garde.”

Romeo’s face flushes red. Whether from embarrassment or anger, I can’t tell. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Does Cerise know about your artistic endeavors?”

He grits his teeth, glancing toward his father who’s still absorbed in his call about quarterly projections and board meetings. “Stay out of my business, Jolie.”

“Gladly, as long as you stay out of mine.”

The rest of the ride passes in tense silence, Beck’s business call providing cover for the hostility radiating from the back seat. When we finally reach the college, Romeo practically launches himself from the car, not waiting for it to come to a complete stop.

I follow him, but Beck’s voice stops me.

“Jolie, wait.” I pause, one foot already on the concrete.

“I need to get to class—“

“We need to talk,” he says. “Please.”

While he ends his call, I close the door and glance ahead.

Cerise appears at Romeo’s side, like she’s been waiting for him.

She’s perfectly put together, as always.

Today, her blonde hair is in an elegant updo that is too old for college, and the designer dress probably costs more than my mother makes in a month.

But there’s something sharp in her expression as she takes in Romeo’s agitated state.

I watch through the windshield as they have what’s clearly an intense conversation. Cerise gestures toward our car, toward me, and Romeo’s body language grows increasingly defensive.

“She knows,” I murmur.

“Knows what?” Beck asks, ending his call.

“That he’s not faithful. Look at her face—she knows exactly what kind of person she’s dating.”

Romeo rushes away from Cerise, practically fleeing toward the main building.

Beck catches my wrist gently. “That’s what we need to talk about.”

I settle back into the seat, hyper-aware of his touch. “About what?”

“About Romeo. About what’s happening between you two.”

“Nothing’s happening between us.”

“But something could,” he says quietly. “If you let it.”

I study his profile, trying to read his expression. “Have you ever scent matched with anyone?”

The question seems to surprise him. “No. Never.”

“If you were with someone you cared about, and then you met your scent match, what would you do?”

Beck is quiet for a long moment, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I’d like to think I’d choose the person I loved, but biology is...complicated.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“What would you do?” he asks, turning to face me fully.

I look toward the building where Romeo disappeared, then back at Beck. “I’d reject him.”

“Even if it meant fighting your biology every day?”

“Especially then.” I take a shaky breath. “Can I tell you something?”

He nods.

“Romeo isn’t my scent match. Not completely.

” The admission feels dangerous, but something about Beck’s steady presence makes me want to be honest with him.

“He smells me as his perfect match, but my scent is false. I have an undertone that I suppress with blockers and that is my real scent, but…it’s complicated.

Just believe me when I tell you that nobody will match with that part of me. ”

“Nobody—“ Beck’s eyebrows draw together. “That’s unusual.”

“It’s more than unusual. It means I probably don’t have a true scent match anywhere. And if I ever bonded with an Alpha, there’s always the risk that he’d find his actual mate someday and leave me behind.”

“So Romeo isn’t actually your match?”

“Not the moment I stop hiding my full scent.” I look down at my hands. “And until I do, he is struggling to reject me despite how much he wants to.”

“And you? How do you feel about Romeo?”

“Sorry, but he's easy to turn down. It helps that he has the personality of a snake. Though, I admit, the physical attraction was there for me. At least, at first. But believe me, it is now very one-sided.”

Beck stares at me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression.

“Jolie—“

But before he can finish whatever he was going to say, my phone buzzes with a text.

Jude: Missing you already. See you at lunch?

I smile despite the heavy conversation, and Beck notices.

“Your date?” he asks.

“Something like that.”

There’s a moment of loaded silence before Beck clears his throat. “You should get to class.”

“Right.” I reach for the door handle, then pause. “Beck? Why are you suddenly interested in my relationship with Romeo?”

His dark eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and for a moment I see something raw and vulnerable there. “Because I care about you. More than I should.” The admission hangs between us, but if I’m honest, the entire conversation was loaded with implications neither of us is ready to explore.

I get out of the car on shaking legs, trying to process what had just happened.

Beck Silver. Not only a successful businessman and Alpha of Alphas. He is also the man who left me money like a paid companion, and now he’s just admitted he cares about me.

The morning passes in a blur of lectures and note-taking, but I can’t stop thinking about Beck’s words. When lunchtime arrives, I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice Cerise and her friends until it’s too late.

“Well, well,” Cerise says, stepping into my path outside the science building. “If it isn’t the little housekeeper’s daughter.”

I try to sidestep her, but two of her friends move to block me. “Excuse me, I need to get to—“

“You need to listen,” Cerise interrupts, her perfectly manicured hand shooting out to grab my hoodie.

In one swift motion, she yanks the hood down and pulls the elastic from my ponytail.

My hair tumbles down my back, the dark waves spilling over my shoulders.

I’ve been growing it out for three years, and it’s longer than it’s ever been.

“Look at that,” one of Cerise’s friends breathes. “No wonder Romeo can’t stay away.”

“I don’t—“ But before I can get the words out, Cerise pushes me to the floor.

“Amber, get the scissors from my bag,” Cerise orders, her hands keeping me down.

“No!” I yell as her knee presses into my back, replacing her hands.

“Cerise, I don’t think—“ the friend starts.

But Cerise fists my hair in her hands and pulls my head back. “Get them. Now.”

“Please,” I gasp, trying to twist away. “I've done nothing—“

“You’ve done everything,” Cerise snarls. “Getting in that car every morning, batting your eyes at my boyfriend, making him think he needs to protect you.”

“Your so-called boyfriend was fucking another girl at his brother’s party,” I spit out, anger overriding my fear. “Did he tell you that?”

Cerise’s grip on my hair tightens painfully. “Liar. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Then why are you so bothered about me if he wouldn’t cheat on you?” The logic of my question only makes her angrier. I hear the metallic snick of scissors opening behind me.

“We just need you to not be so pretty,” Cerise says, and I feel the cold metal against my neck. “It’s not my hair he’s attracted to,” I whisper desperately.

She leans down, inhaling near my cheek. “You smell pretty bad, so it’s not your scent either.”

“It is,” I beg as the scissors glint in the overhead light. “Please don’t.”

But it’s too late. “ He’s not your Romeo. He’s mine .” Menace coats her voice, but it’s the blades opening and closing that ring in my ears.

My hair falls away. Chunk after chunk falling to the ground around my feet. Years of growth scattering before my eyes. The girls laugh as Cerise pushes me. My hands slam on the floor as I stumble forward, only just saving my face from crashing to the floor.

I turn to sit on my ass and see my long strands covering the floor. Tears are already streaming down my face as my hands fly to my head. What’s left of my hair hangs in uneven chunks, some pieces barely reaching my chin.

“Stay away from Romeo,” Cerise calls as I get to my feet. “And start walking to school. I don’t want to see you in that car again.”

I wait until she is gone before I run blindly, tears streaming down my face, only stopping when I reach an old maintenance shed behind the athletic building. The corrugated metal walls provide blessed privacy as I sink to the floor, pulling out my phone with shaking hands.

“Lottie?” I sob when she finally answers. “Lottie…” Another hiccupped breath. “I need to get out of here.”

“Emmie? What’s wrong?”

“Can you put me on video? Please?”

When her face appears on the screen, her expression immediately crumbles. “Oh, my God. What happened to your hair?”

I’m crying too hard to explain coherently, just showing her the damage through the phone camera. We’re talking frantically when I hear voices approaching the shed.

“I have to go. I’m going home. I’ll call you from there.” I end the call and creep to the small window. Three groundskeepers walk past, their voices fading as they head toward the main building. When I’m sure they’re gone, I slip out of the shed, away from school, and start the long walk home.

I’m walking down the high street when a familiar Range Rover pulls up beside me. The window slides down and I hear, “Who did this to you?”

My eyes lock with Beck, but I can’t tell him.

I shake my head, stepping back from the car. “Nobody. I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine,” Beck says. “Get in the car.”

“No, thank you,” I say stiffly. “I’d rather walk.”

“Jolie,” he tries again, softer now, like he is conscious of his tone. “Please get in the car. Let me help you.”

When I don’t answer, he says calmly, “Please let me take you home.”

I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

“Please. Let me help you.”

I’m worn out and just need my bed. And something in his tone breaks through my defenses. I climb into the passenger seat, immediately feeling small and exposed under his concerned gaze.

Beck reaches over without asking, his fingers gentle as they touch what’s left of my hair. “Who did this to you?”

I can’t answer, too afraid of the consequences.

“My son?” he asks quietly.

“No. His girlfriend.”

Beck’s jaw tightens, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “I’m taking you back to college. We’re going to find out exactly what happened and—“

“No!” The word comes out as a sob. “Please, I can’t go back there. I’m too scared.”

Beck stares at me for a long moment, then puts the car in drive. “Okay. I’ll take you home.”