Inside, the foyer was all polished marble and sweeping staircases, but the air was thick, heavy with an anxious, stifling tension. Lena was waiting at the base of the stairs, her perfectly manicured hands clasped together, her expression a careful blend of concern and something sharper.
“Lena.” I forced a polite smile, ignoring the faint, instinctual shiver that always seemed to creep over me in her presence. “What happened?”
“Sophie’s nesting instinct has kicked in,” Lena announced, her tone sharp, clipped, and just a little too loud—like she wanted to make absolutely sure I understood. “Which is perfectly natural for an Omega under extreme stress. Unlike some, Sophie’s instincts actually function properly.”
I swallowed the sharp retort that burned at the back of my throat. “Okay, so… is she okay?”
“She’s locked herself in her room.” Lena’s lips pursed, a faint, almost pitying smile flickering across her face. “Karl’s with her, of course. She needed… comfort. Stability. From someone she trusts.”
A sharp, bitter edge twisted in my chest. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Of course. The perfect Omega needs the perfect Alpha to calm her down. And here I was, just a Zeta—rootless, instinctless, always the outsider.
But I didn’t rise to the bait. Not yet. I was here for Sophie.
“Has anyone tried talking to her?” I asked, forcing calm into my voice.
“Karl has it under control,” Lena said, waving a perfectly manicured hand. “It’s best not to overwhelm her. Too much noise, too much interference—it only makes things worse. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”
My jaw clenched. “Right. Because I wouldn’t know anything about family stress, anxiety, or feeling completely out of control.”
Lena’s smile widened, just slightly. “You said it, dear. Not me.”
Adrian stepped in beside me, his hand brushing against the small of my back—a warm, solid presence, and Lena’s gaze flicked to him, her smile faltering just a fraction.
“I’m going to see Sophie,” I said, brushing past Lena and heading up the staircase without waiting for her permission.
“Suit yourself,” Lena called after me, her voice that sharp, saccharine sweetness I’d come to hate. “But don’t make it worse.”
I bit down on my retort, my fingers tightening on the banister, and Adrian’s voice followed me, low and calm. “Ignore her.”
“Trying.” I didn’t stop, didn’t look back, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was trying to ignore Lena or the slow, burning ache in my chest.
At the top of the stairs, Sophie’s door was closed, a soft, muffled murmur of voices slipping through. I knocked gently.
“Soph? It’s me.”
A faint rustle, then Karl’s voice. “Give us a second, Liv.”
I stepped back, leaning against the wall, forcing myself to breathe, to focus, to remember why I was here. Sophie needed me. This wasn’t about me or Lena or my own tangled, bitter history with this place. It was about my sister.
“Adrian.” Lena’s voice floated up the staircase, her tone a little too sweet. “Would you be a dear and help me with something in the kitchen? I’d hate to keep you from… whatever this is.”
He looked at me, a silent question in his eyes, and I nodded, a faint smile flickering across my lips. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
He lingered for just a second longer, then turned, his tall, imposing figure disappearing down the stairs, and I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes.
A soft click, and the door opened. Karl’s face appeared, a faint, relieved smile touching his lips.
“Hey, Liv. She’s… calming down.”
“Can I see her?”
“Yeah. I think she’d like that.”
I stepped past him, the soft, warm glow of the bedroom a comforting contrast to the cold, polished marble of the hallway. Sophie was a tiny, trembling figure curled up in the middle of a mountain of pastel pillows—a cotton candy wonderland of pinks, blues, and yellows. Her wild, blonde curls tangled around her tear-streaked face, her knees drawn to her chest, her small hands clutching at the soft, fluffy fabric like it was the only thing holding her together.
“Wow,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice light, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Did you raid a cotton candy factory, or are you just trying to create the world’s softest fortress?”
A faint, watery laugh slipped out of her, her red-rimmed eyes peeking up at me. “It’s… it’s comforting.”