Page 131 of Whispers of Wisteria

I glanced toward the door. Should I send Kasai regardless?

“Don’t ever tell her that—she rejected him,” Bryce replied.

“Gloria rejects everyone,” I remarked. “Why did you let Bianca go then? She insulted you.”

“She always insults me.” Bryce scowled. “But I didn’t have much of a choice,” he said, looking torn. “She asked me nicely.”

Damn it, he was already doting on her. He’d be useless when it came to hard decisions, and Brayden was off the table. He’d pretty much let her do anything she wanted.

It looked like I’d need to be the bad guy in the future.

Bianca POV

Dr. Sartore was pacing at the stone and iron graveyard entrancewhen Gloria and I arrived, and paused when she spotted us.

“Well,” she said. “That’s certainly one way to garner attention.”

I frowned and looked down at my skirt, holding the lacey fabric out for study. There was nothing wrong with this outfit. Besides, who was she to talk?

“You’re literally in Louboutins and Saint Laurent,” I informed her.

She blinked. “Well… touché.”

“Besides,” I said, tugging my skirt in place, “I have a plan.”

“You have a plan?” Dr. Sartore repeated, casting Gloria a dubious glance.

But Gloria breezed past us, her red cape fluttering dramatically as she dropped a folded beach chair to the ground. She didn’t seem to be paying any attention to us at all.

“Why would I care about your plan?” Dr. Sartore continued. “I hardly know you.”

That was to be expected. All thanks to Damen’s logic—a logic that, to this day, still made absolutely no sense.

“You will,” I said instead, because I didn’t have anything better to offer. I grabbed the chair and followed Gloria through the rows of headstones.

Dr. Sartore stared after me a moment, lingering behind, before she fell into step beside me.

“You’re married to Bryce,” she said, and my eyebrow twitched.

“Right,” I answered, focusing more on dragging the chair after me.

She crossed her arms behind her back. “And he doesn’t mind his noble fae wife frolicking with shifters?”

I hesitated, mid-step. “Why would he care?”

“No reason,” she replied lightly. “Only that fae tend to be afraid of shifters. And I thought fae women were the fragile, terrified sort.”

“I don’t mind,” I answered. I grunted as the chair scraped over a rock. “I like shifters…” But then my thoughts drifted, and my nose twitched. “Except wolves.”

Gloria glanced back at me, and my skin flushed. “You’re different,” I reassured her.

It wasn’t like she could hurt me.

“We can stop here,” Gloria said instead. She grabbed the chair from me, set it up, and sat down. She spread the cape out over her lap.

“Er…” I hesitated. I might have had a plan, but I wasn’t so sure about Gloria’s. “Weren’t we supposed to be looking for Cécile? How is sitting here—”

She held up her hand and shushed me. “I don’t think we’ll need to look very hard. You’ve made it even easier than I could have dreamed possible. Our thoughts are one.”