Page 134 of Wicked Heirs

“Precisely,” Orpheus agreed. “And that makes it all the more worrying.”

“Call him back then,” Alena suggested in that rational way of hers.

“He can’t,” I told her.

“It’s a two-way communicator, yes?” she questioned.

“It is, but he just got a summons from Saryan Hart. He can’t decline. He has to go.”

“When?”

Orpheus reached out and stroked her cheek. “Now, little angel.”

“What? No. What about classes, what about—”

“Us?” he asked, giving her that intense stare of his.

“Yes,” she admitted.

He cupped her cheeks and vowed, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, believe me. There’s nothing I want more than to come right home to you, Alena.”

He brushed his lips over hers, then reluctantly pulled back and climbed off the bed, heading for his closet to pack a bag.

He could’ve just used his magic to do so, but it was clear he wanted to draw it out at least a little—all Saryan would allow—before he had to take his leave of us.

“What do you think he wants to see you about?” Tal asked, voicing what we were all wondering.

Orpheus avoided eye contact. “Who knows? It could be any number of things.”

In that moment, I knew.

He thought it was about Alena.

Perhaps Saryan had gotten word that his son was seeing the daughter of his enemy.

We’d been all over campus together lately, all lovey-dovey, intimate, and close.

Hell, it could be someone like the bitter bitch, Isabella, who’d ratted him out in a bid to upset things between us.

He caught my eye briefly as he turned to grab some clothes from his dresser, and he discreetly shook his head at me, realizing I’d deduced what he was avoiding saying.

He didn’t want Alena to know.

Talon either.

Our firebird became extremely anxious at any upheaval, especially when it presented a threat to his intimate relationships. It was his intense abandonment issues as a result of the premature death of his parents and the brutally traumatic way in which they’d been ripped from him without so much as a warning.

I gave a nod.

I wouldn’t say anything.

It wouldn’t help matters anyway, instead doing the direct opposite.

Besides, it would be okay.

Orpheus Hart could talk his way out of anything—and into anything.

He could do the same with his father.

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