Page 141 of Citius

I tipped my head back and gave him a faux pout. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a little,” he teased, trying to keep the amusement in his expression to a minimum. “Come on.”

His warm, grounding hand turned me toward the side room where the items for the silent auction were on display. When he let go, I immediately missed his touch.

But any further interaction ran the risk of drawing attention. At least one pack was already looking in our direction. A sour-faced womanglared at me over the rim of her wine glass.

Cal gave my hip a covert poke. “Come on. Let’s go see how Piper wants to spend your money.”

***

The lobby’s second floor was blissfully quiet, and the empty bathroom was a perfect sanctuary. I sat in a stall with my eyes closed, leaning against the textured wallpaper and disassociating until Kelsey’s second warning text arrived.

Status check.

Status check.

Hauling my head back onto my weary spine, I took a moment to gather myself before responding.

Be right there.

The plan was simple: grab water, take more pills, and rejoin the group. Easy. Or so I thought.

As I stepped into the hallway, a tall, expensively dressed woman with dark hair blocked my path—the same woman who’d been watching me earlier. Only now, up close, did I realize she bore an uncanny resemblance to Anya Sethi.

Because she was Heather Carling.

Who knew you could inherit a withering glare?

“Are you here with Cal Carling?” she demanded.

My simmering temper finally had a legitimate excuse to cook with gas. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Answer the question.”

“No.” I crossed my arms. “Don’t think I will.”

“Oh, so you’re one ofthose—in it for the money.”

A laugh burst out of me, full-throated and unapologetic, before I could stop it. The irony was just too rich. Cal’s sister thought I was a gold-digger—meanwhile, Alijah was so rattled by my assets that our relationship might never recover.

For the first time in my life, I was tempted to flaunt my clout. Vaultlegend. Olympic champion. Entrepreneur. Multi-millionaire. Whose name was listed near the top of the donor tree a mere twelve feet down the hall. And, the cherry on top, one of her mother’s handpicked disciples.

Owen materialized at my side, extending a glass of water infused with mint leaves and citrus slices. What was it with the men of Pack Redmond and their insistence on fancy water?

“Heather.” His voice was crisp and clear. Perfect for delivering edicts. “I see you’ve met Morgan.”

Heather stepped back, her gaze dropping to the floor in subconscious deference. “Didn’t realize she was one of yours.”

“Of course not. We’re only sitting at the same table.” Given how hard she flinched, his disapproval must have landed like an iron beam. “While the prospect of stealing her from the university is quite tempting, your mother would probably object.”

Owen’s gaze shifted subtly, catching how I tried to hide my delight with a sip of water. One side of his mouth tightened into a wry curl.

“I believe she’s rather protective of her medical fellows.”

Heather’s brows furrowed as she scrutinized me with renewed intensity.

“You—you’re a doctor?” While her gaze was curious, her tone was doubtful.

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