Page 74 of Laced With Secrets
“I came here today because that invitation wouldn’t let me rest.” Her voice had taken on a note of finality, as if she’d said what she came to say and now needed to leave.
“Because I’m running out of time.” She looked at my stomach.
She reached out with an unsteady hand, and I instinctively took it. Her grip was surprisingly strong despite the trembling.
A presence appeared at my shoulder—familiar pine and cinnamon cutting through the reception hall’s mingled scents. I didn’t need to look to know Dominic had returned, though his fifteen minutes couldn’t possibly be up yet.
Constance’s rheumy eyes shifted past me, sharp despite her age. She studied the figure behind me with the kind of assessing gaze that came from decades of experience navigating social hierarchies and power dynamics. “And you would be the mate, I presume.”
“Dominic.” His voice was calm, controlled. Not rushed or panicked—just present. His hand settled on my shoulder, warm and grounding. “Dominic Steele.”
“Ah.” Her gaze moved between us with sharp intelligence. “Your omega is a curious one—he asks many questions.”
“I’m aware,” Dominic said evenly. Through our bond, I sensed he was reading the situation, assessing.
“A noble quality,” Constance continued, her expression holding something that might have been approval or might have been pity. “It got Thomas Wong killed. It could get your mate killed too, along with the child he’s carrying.”
I immediately felt Dominic’s response—a sharp spike of fury. I turned to look him, finding only an impassive mask. His thumb traced a small circle against my shoulder blade.
“Thomas’ killer wasn’t solely responsible for his death. Culpability lays with everyone who should have protected him and didn’t.” Constance said. “Including me.”
Sandra moved forward, her professional patience clearly exhausted.
“We really need to go,” the aide said firmly, already releasing the wheelchair brake. “The doctor was very clear about not overexerting yourself.”
Constance nodded wearily, suddenly looking every one of her ninety-one years. The brief moment of intensity drained away, leaving only exhaustion. “Yes. Of course. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I thought... I don’t know what I thought. That confession would bring peace, perhaps. But some things can’t be absolved.”
“Wait,” I said as Sandra began wheeling her away. “If you think of anything else, anything that might help?—”
“I’ve told you what I can,” Constance said, not looking back. “The rest... the rest is between me and whatever judgment awaits me.”
Sandra navigated the wheelchair through the thinning crowd and out the main entrance. We were silent for a moment, watching them disappear. My heart was still racing, my mind spinning through everything Constance had revealed.
Finally, I turned to look up at Dominic. “That wasn’t fifteen minutes.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “No. It wasn’t.”
“What happened to Blake’s urgent crisis?”
“I hung up on him.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I almost laughed despite everything.
“You hung up on him?” I repeated.
“I felt you calling for me through the bond.” His hand moved from my shoulder to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. His breath escaped in a huff, the sound caught between resignation and amusement. “I can’t even leave you alone for fifteen minutes. You’re a handful, you know that?”
“I was only having a conversation with a ninety-one-year-old woman in a wheelchair,” I pointed out, but I couldn’t quite keep the warmth out of my voice.
“I didn’t know that until I got here.” His lips quirked slightly. “For all I knew, you’d somehow managed to flip the table of refreshments on top of you.”
“Well now, that’s just ridiculous,” I said, insulted by the image.
The eyebrow went higher. “Leo.”
“Technically, she did confess to threatening Thomas and suspecting he was pregnant when she did it,” I admitted. “So she’s not entirely uninvolved.”
“Right.” Dominic’s voice was dry. “Not entirely uninvolved. Nothing concerning about that at all.”
“You’re being sarcastic.”