Chapter 11

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“Idina.” Her name left a bitter taste in my mouth. She still looked the same, youthful, as most female werewolves do, curly black hair like her son’s and sparkling mysterious eyes. Her upper lip curled when I spoke to her with the same malice she did when she had addressed me.

Her long fingers tightened around the handle of a dainty tea cup when I stepped closer, allowing my expression to show the pure hatred I held towards her. My eyes flickered towards the table, where a kitchen knife rested beside the plate I had slammed down.

Subtly angling my body, I swiftly took up the knife with one hand and folded my arms behind my back, feeling the sting of the sharp blade as it nipped my palm.

Shrewd eyes lowered to my neck. “Can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”

My head tilted. I had showered since this morning and had made sure to wash away all of the blood. However, I knew there was a long bruise and maybe a bit of swelling on my neck.

“Who invited you here?” Those words were flung from Flynn, who marched into the room, immediately coming by my side. In the hallway stood a tensed Penelope, one hand placed on her slight bump.

Idina didn’t respond for a few seconds, allowing her gaze to linger on me. When she faced Flynn, her smile creased the corners of her mouth.

“By Arthur Swiss, of course.” Her voice had dropped to a low purr. “I was looking forward to seeing you here, Flynn.”

Penelope and I exchanged a long look. Was this lunatic really trying to flirt with Flynn whilst his mate stood only a couple feet away? Penelope’s throat cleared loudly and I ducked my head, smirking.

“You can stop with your lies, woman. Arthur didn’t invite you here.” Penelope spat, inching forward. Her green eyes shone dangerously and Flynn placed a hand on her arm.

Idina’s beam dropped away, smoothly being replaced with a frown as she stared down at Penelope. They once had been very close, so I knew Idina was startled by her attitude.

Idina jerked forward abruptly, her movements slow and I found it difficult to read her intentions. The need to stop any possible harm towards my friend blossomed and I swung my knife around, pressing the tip of the blade on her belly in warning.

Pink lips peeled back to reveal ivory teeth but I did not pull away. Anger consumed her, hardening her expression and stiffening her shoulders. I moved my arm further when she didn’t back down, continuing to maintain eye-contact.

It was Flynn who finally decided to break our stare down, shoving his hand forward and pushing away Idina. We watched as she stumbled into the furniture, plopping hard onto a sofa.

“What makes you think I wasn’t invited?” Idina said after standing back up to her feet, arms folded across her chest. My jaw clenched tight when she smirked at our silence. I had assumed that Arthur knew the tension between Xerxes and his mother, so I was confused as to why he would have asked her to be here.

“Idina.”

We all swiveled around to see the man who had spoken. I frowned deeply, taking in the rumpled state of Sinclair. It seemed to be a norm for him, to have his clothes a bit untidy. His face twisted into a sneer when his gaze swept to me. His mouth opened, probably to send a couple insults my way, but I waved him off, looking towards Flynn instead. His eyes dodged mine as I sent a questioning look towards his mate instead.

Penelope sighed, whipping around and walking to the doorway. “I’m returning to my room.” She glanced at me. “Could I speak with you there?”

I hesitated, shooting one last withering glare to Idina and scowled at Sinclair. I releases, the knife, allowing it to clatter to the tiled floor, inches away from Idina’s foot.

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