Chapter 108 Uninvited

At that very moment, Eira sat at the dining table over at Number Nine Southridge Estates, a totally different crowd around her.

Beatrice Thorne. Martin. Professor Davies and his wife. Claire.

Table was loud. Good kind of loud.

Somebody clinked a fork against a glass, and for a second the noise dipped, just enough for Beatrice’s voice to slip through.

"Alaric would’ve loved this," she said, eyes going a little glassy. "Bet he’s up there somewhere, grinning like an idiot."

Davies’s wife laughed, wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"God, if this guy finally takes a weekend off because of it, I’ll throw a damn parade." She nudged her husband. "Don’t get used to it."

"Hey, this isn’t retirement, it’s a partnership," Davies shot back, grinning. "Still got work to do." He squeezed her hand. "Thanks, though. For putting up with me all these years."

"Proud of you," she said, simple, and dropped a piece of roasted broccoli on his plate like that settled it.

Claire piped up. "After tomorrow I’m finally telling my parents what I actually do for a living. They think I’m in some cult. Cops had to show up at their door and tell them to knock it off with the questions."

Table cracked up.

Then everyone’s eyes landed on Eira at once.

She stayed calm. "Gonna go practice my signature a few more times tonight."

Beat. Then more laughing.

"And tomorrow?" Beatrice asked.

"Tomorrow we get it done." Eira shrugged. "Then we keep going. Bigger stuff."

Davies leaned in. "Just this one project?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Not even close."

Nobody pushed for details. Whatever she was cooking up, that was enough for now.

"To tomorrow," Davies said, lifting his glass of sparkling juice. "And to you not getting poisoned. I know the Institute’s got you covered, but seriously, watch what you eat and drink."

"I know." Eira’s voice went soft.

"I’ll be fine. Serena’s laying low. And him," she didn’t bother with the name, "he’s not getting under my skin anymore."

Beatrice and Davies both knew exactly who "him" meant.

Davies’s wife and Claire let it go, kept eating, the whole table easy again.

Then. Ding-dong.

"Who’s showing up this late?" Beatrice frowned. "Anyone else know you’re staying here?"

Eira thought about it. "Maybe Lila."

Beatrice relaxed. "The Sterling girl, that’s fine. Long as it’s not her brother, she can’t put it together."

"I’ll check."

Eira got up, glanced at the security screen by the door.

Stomach dropped straight through the floor.

Hands in his pockets. Face giving away nothing.

Alpha Killian Sterling.

--

Across the table, Claire’s eyes kept darting between the two of them. Painfully obvious she was trying to figure out what these two actually were to each other.

Even if Eira hadn’t quit, it still seemed weird for her boss to show up at her house unannounced. Right?

But Claire didn’t dare ask.

Davies’s wife had no such hang-ups. She smiled warm, said what everybody at the table was already thinking.

"Mr. Sterling, Eira doesn’t work for you anymore. And yet here you are. Still keeping in touch, huh?"

Question landed clean, no wiggle room.

Alpha Killian took his time answering, in no hurry at all, like the question wasn’t even worth rushing for. Not many people managed to catch him off guard like that.

Eira didn’t miss a step.

"I owe the guy. Big time. Three times over, actually."

Everyone looked at her.

She shrugged. "Saved my life once. That’s one. Then there was this whole thing where he protected something I cared about a lot, don’t wanna get into it. That’s two." She paused, thinking back. "And he kept me out of a mess I really didn’t want to be in. That’s three."

Claire’s eyes went wide. She leaned in, whispered, though not quiet enough. "Okay, three life debts. That’s like, movie-villain-turned-good-guy territory. What, are you supposed to be his loyal sidekick for life now or something?"

Eira froze, mouth half open, no comeback ready for that one.

Claire kept going, grin spreading. "Or is this a ’my hero, take me, I’m yours’ kind of deal?"

Eira reached over, flicked her on the forehead. "Drop it."

Truth was, she should’ve settled one of those debts already. Had a whole plan for it. Then Sebastian showed up out of nowhere that same night, demanding to know where she was and what she was up to.

Of course it had to be that night.

Now she had zero idea how to pay Alpha Killian back. Not for any of it.

But Alpha Killian’s hearing was annoyingly good, and he’d caught every word Claire whispered.

He leaned back in his chair, unhurried, one arm draped over the back of it like he owned the room. Mouth curved up slow, more smirk than smile. Turned his head toward Eira, eyes glinting, taking his sweet time about it.

Eira knew right away he’d heard everything.

Not just heard it, either. Looked completely fine with where Claire’s little joke was headed. Looked like he was enjoying it.

She looked away fast, refused to meet his eyes.

Alpha Killian wasn’t in any rush to let her off the hook. Leaned in slow, elbow on the table, close enough that his voice dropped low, meant for her ears only.

"So," he drawled, gaze steady on her, not blinking, not backing off an inch.

"You figure out how you’re paying me back yet?" A pause, corner of his mouth twitching up. "Take your time. I’m not going anywhere."