Chapter 90: Sadie: An Invitation

SADIE

"Grandma, it’s time to watch the stars," I mumble through a mouthful of cake, resting a hand on her shoulder as she sits up.

"The stars?" She looks at me uncertainly.

I finish chewing. Cake first, conversation second. I really should’ve worked that out before speaking.

"You wanted to watch them with Trey, remember? They’re bright and beautiful tonight."

She hesitates and glances around. Her caretaker came with her medication after she woke from her nap, though she still seems a little dazed. She might need another minute, or she might be wondering why the stars can’t be appreciated from somewhere with a heater. Honestly, I’m cold enough to understand that position.

A cardigan is lying on the bed where the caretaker left it. I pick it up and drape it over her shoulders before trying again.

"Should I help you down?"

"Yes, let’s go." She nods, then looks at me. "Trey will be there, right?"

"Yes." I help her sit at the edge of the mattress, then support her as she gets to her feet.

Once she’s standing, she barely needs me. No shaking, no slouching, none of the unsteadiness I was preparing for.

I’d love to be this fit when I’m older. She’s getting out of bed with more composure than I manage before a morning class. It makes the dementia feel particularly unfair, though. I wish the rest of her body being so healthy could make that part easier.

"There you go." I help her slip her arms into the cardigan and smooth it over her clothes.

She peers at me. "Why were you eating cake? Didn’t you have dinner?"

"I did," I answer a little too quickly. "I like having snacks afterward."

"Then don’t have too many."

I nod. No need to mention that afterward is doing a lot of work when there was no dinner before it.

Celia told the kitchen staff not to cook for us. They explained that she wasn’t informed he was coming, so nobody knew to make extra.

Right. An estate big enough to require directions, brought to its knees by two additional dinner plates. I’m fairly sure enough leftovers to feed ten people will go in the trash tonight. She just doesn’t want Trey having an easy time here.

Gently, I help Grandma into the hallway, where I immediately wish I could bring her heater along. The breeze catches my bare legs, reminding me that trousers were an option when I asked Trey for something to wear. The shorts made sense in his room. Out here, I’d like to reconsider.

After several turns and more than one discussion about whether we’re lost, we reach the pergola by the garden. Trey is leaning casually against a panel, with a bottle of wine and some snacks already set out.

"Here comes the big queen and the small queen." He looks from Grandma to me. "What took you guys so long?"

"I was—"

"Come help me sit, boy." Grandma waves him over. "You’re still as lazy as ever."

A smile spreads across my face as Trey comes to help her. Listening to Grandma roast him is quickly becoming one of my favorite things.

He helps her settle, then notices me hugging my arms.

"You’re cold." He draws me closer. "Come here. I’ll keep you warm."

A giggle slips out before I nudge him back.

"She’s watching," I whisper, then sit on Grandma’s right before he can insist.

Trey sits on her left, giving up on being my blanket for now. "The stars are bright tonight."

"They’re usually—"

I stop when I notice someone walking straight toward us. It’s the house steward, whom I only met this evening, due to wanting dinner and being denied.

That’s plenty of acquaintance for one evening.

She stops in front of us, her attention on me. "The Luna would like to see you."

That makes one of us. I’d rather sit with Paige right now and sing her a nursery rhyme if she asked nicely. Besides, why does Celia suddenly want my company? Being mated to Ezra never earned me a private meeting. I show up with Trey, and now she’s available.

I wait for Trey to answer, and he doesn’t disappoint. "Leave."

Very straightforward, but the steward remains where she is. "Luna Celia insists I must not return without her."

"Then tell Celia she’s going to be waiting a long fucking time."

"She also instructed me to use any means necessary to bring this lady to her." The woman keeps looking at him.

Trey starts getting up, but Grandma catches his arm. He turns to her, his eyes widening a little.

"Let her go," Grandma says.

"Seriously?" He looks at her hand on his arm, then back at her. "You can’t mean that."

She turns to me without answering him. "Go ahead, dear. You can’t spend your life crossing the street every time you see an enemy."

Fair enough, but I’d happily cross several streets to avoid this particular woman. She’s somewhere between a lion and an evil marine spirit, and I don’t think staying seated makes me unreasonable.

"Then I’m going with her." Trey starts to rise, only for Grandma to hold him back again.

He lets out a frustrated breath as I get up. I meet his eyes, hoping the confidence I’m trying to put on is at least convincing from where he’s sitting.

"I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry."

Walking toward the steward gives me time to question why I stood up so willingly. What does Celia want? Surely not a chat. We’ve already established that we don’t enjoy each other’s company, and I doubt she’s hoping a private meeting will fix that.

Grandma’s decision isn’t making much sense either. We came to watch the stars and I was prepared to do my part.

The steward leads me away from the garden and into the main house, walking fast enough that keeping up requires effort. The farther we go into sections I haven’t seen, the more the mansion feels like a haunted house. Everything is beautifully arranged, but none of it suggests somebody lives here and is happy about it.

More guards stand along the walls, and I can’t be the only one feeling how cold it is here. If dementors from Azkaban come floating through the walls, I’ll be terrified, but I won’t be surprised. Even taking a deep breath feels like giving up a little more of myself.

Then my wolf stirs. Her presence is small, but I recognise it now, and feeling her there makes the walk a little less lonely. At least one of us gets to attend this meeting without being seen.

Another five minutes brings us to a brightly lit hallway with a single door. The steward knocks, opens it, and steps aside.

"Enter."

She stays outside, leaving me to take a breath and walk in.

Like everything else in this house, the room is large, though the first thing I notice is how much it smells like Ezra. It looks like a study, if we’re willing to overlook the absence of books. There’s a desk and a shelf lined with bars of gold.

Yes, gold.

Is this woman okay? How much money am I looking at, and why is it sitting where somebody would normally keep a dictionary?

I drag my attention away from the shelf to Celia.

She’s behind the desk, her chair turned toward the window, but it swivels around as I approach. She rises and walks over, stopping directly in front of me.

"You asked to see me?"

She smiles.

Her hand moves before I can make sense of the expression, and the slap turns my face to the side.

A loud ringing fills my ears. My cheek burns, but for a few seconds, I’m too stunned to do anything except stare at the space beside her. She actually hit me. I came here because she sent for me, and she hit me.

When I turn back, her hand catches my cheek again.

My fist clenches. Anger burns through my chest, and I lift my eyes to hers just as the third slap lands.

This time, holding myself back takes effort. I want to hit her so badly that my fingers ache from keeping them curled at my side. But I swallow and stay where I am while she takes out a handkerchief and wipes her hand, as though touching me is the unpleasant part of what just happened.

She returns to her chair and settles behind the desk with a smirk.

"The first was for your lack of manners." She folds the handkerchief. "You seem to think being with Trey makes you untouchable. I could snap my fingers and have you dead in a minute. That’s how easily your miserable life could end."

My cheek keeps throbbing while I stare at her.

"The second was for lying about Ezra rejecting you. He did no such thing." Her eyes remain on mine. "And the third was for thinking you could climb above your place at the bottom."