Page 63 of Toxic Revenge: Part Two

He kept a hold on my hand, stepping back. I grabbed my small crossbody purse—also sent by Odetta—and let him lead me out of the nesting room. Mira had texted me Violet’s room number, but the facility was still unfamiliar to me, and I probably would have gotten lost. Mercer knew every hall of this place like his own home, so it was good he was leading me around.

We came up to a door with a flower wreath hung on it, and he knocked. It only took a second for the door to swing open and reveal Mira, grinning at us.

“I thought you’d never get here. That dress looks amazing on you.” She ushered me inside and Mercer trailed behind, completely ignored.

Violet’s bedroom was an omega haven, which surprised me considering the facility she lived in.

Her delicate scent of almond cookies washed over me, marking the space as her own. Mira’s cherry blossom and magnolia was prominent too, clinging to some of the fabrics, and there were faint hints of Lavinia’s sharp citrus mint scent lingering beneath it all.

A large window on one wall cast mid-afternoon sun over the space, making it comfortably warm in here despite the chill outside. Dark brown curtains were pulled back on either side.

Violet was flopped on her bed which was messily made up with a tan comforter and various dark earth-toned pillows and blankets. She grinned when she saw me.

“Welcome in! I hope the scents aren’t too overwhelming.”

Mira snorted. “Overwhelming? Vi, this place is muted compared to most of our bedrooms. We’ve been sharing nests for years.”

“Yeah, but Talia doesn’t really know me.” Her cheeks went pink, that same shyness bubbling up from before.

“You’re family, and this is your room. I’m not upset that it smells like you,” I said. “You smell like home to me, remember?”

Trying to reassure her was a good distraction from my own anxieties of the moment. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or overcompensating around me. There must be some past experience causing her to panic over this, but I wouldn’t ask.

“Home… Yeah, I remember,” Violet mumbled. “It’s honestly nice having other omega scents in my space. I’m sorry I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Walking over to the bed, I sat on the edge and pulled Violet into a half hug. Mira plopped down on her other side, leaning in too. “If anything makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you.”

“Same here,” Mira said. “I’m not shy about making my opinion known.”

Violet laughed. “Thank you. My mother was always a little passive-aggressive, so I had to tiptoe around her.”

“A little?” Mercer scoffed, reminding us that he was hovering in the open doorway. “That woman?—”

“Isn’t in my life anymore.” Violet cut him off. “Let’s not go any deeper into it.”

He nodded, but I saw the hatred in his eyes. There was no kind place in his heart for Violet’s mother. Would that also be West’s mother? I knew they were half siblings, but did they have the same mom, or the same dad?

“We have to get started on Talia’s makeup or Mercer is going to throw a fit about not having enough time to get set up.” Violet moved out of our embrace, lifting her arms overhead to stretch out her hands.

Mira hopped off the bed with a nod. “She’s right. Talia, you go…” She trailed off, lifting an eyebrow at Mercer. “Why are you still here?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the door jamb. “Can’t I watch?”

I rolled my eyes. No way would Mira let him crash girl time.

“Out out out.” Lo and behold, Mira rushed toward Mercer, fluttering her hands. “No boys allowed. You can wait for her somewhere else.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, backing away. “Geez, got it. Just don’t make us late with all the primping, alright? We’ve got to have enough time to get set up around the mansion.”

“You’ll have plenty!” Violet called after him as Mira shut him outside the room.

With my mate gone, they both turned to me. “I’m no Odetta, but I’m going to do my best to give you a red carpet-worthy makeup look,” Mira proclaimed.

“And I’m on hair.” Violet held up her curling iron. “I was thinking a classy updo with some curled strands to accentuate it.”

“You two can do whatever you think is going to help me fit in at the gala,” I said.

I didn’t want to stand out, both for my own comfort, and to make it easier for me to slip away and do what I was really there to do.