Page 97 of Hero of Havoc

When the world burns at this man’s hands, I’ll be right at his side, fueling the flames.

22

TEDDY

“Idon’t like this,” Baron grunts, his concern matching the twist in my stomach as Archer and Ivy disappear.

“Me either, but we’re here now,” Sax confirms, fueling the dread that threatens to overwhelm me.

The more out of my depth I feel, the more I tend to do something irrational, like kill the man who tried to marry my fated mate before proceeding to cart her away from the damn church, wedding dress and all.

Dragging a hand down my face, I survey the room.

It’s as if no one else is aware of the turmoil we’re in. They’re too busy drowning in liquor, raging over money lost, or riding the high of a win.

I don’t feel any of those things, especially as I spot my mother across the casino. A chill clings to me as she glances over the room, a champagne flute pressed against her lips as her eyes narrow.

When the opportunity came up to slip into the realm of Frederick Bowen, we snapped up the chance. Not to help, but to try and figure out what my mother wants with him, and why he seemed almost pleased at the idea of being hunted by her. Regardless, she wasn’t supposed to be here.

Her presence only turns a situation from bad to worse because nothing good ever happens when she is around.

If my father could see her now, what would he think?

“How about you guys do a lap, see if you hear anything, while I go and deal with the devil?” I offer, nodding toward my mother, who chooses that exact moment to lock eyes with me.

Fuck.

“Will you be okay alone?” Sax asks, and I grunt.

“It’s better this way.”

I trudge across the garish green carpet before I can change my mind, the shrill wails of euphoria swirling around me, tainted by the thuds of damnation as everyone loses themselves to the casino.

Approaching my mother is never fun, but there’s an extra level of… something glistening in her eyes, and I don’t like it. I stuff my hands in my pockets as I stop beside her table, and she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be so useless and block my view, Theodore,” she grinds out, her anger hidden behind the champagne bubbles, but the way her red lips tilt up in a sneer is undeniable.

Pursing my lips, I take a step to the side, forgoing the stool beside her as I tilt my head.

“What are you doing here?” I mumble, and she scoffs, discarding her empty flute on the table, only for a waiter to appear with another.

“I should be asking you the same question,” she retorts, cocking a brow at me for a brief moment before she returns her attention to the room.

“I’m here helping Archer, at his father’s request,” I grumble, hating having to explain myself to her, but she needs to know that I’m here and Frederick knows it, but the way her red lips twist with amusement doesn’t extend the intended flurry of irritation my way.

“And what is it Frederick would require your assistance with?” she muses, making my chest tighten, and I swallow the rage threatening to bubble to the surface.

“Why are you here, mother?” I repeat, and she sighs, placing her flute down to turn her full attention to me.

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older,” she mutters, getting under my skin, and my hands clench in my pockets.

“Funny.”

“Nothing is funny, Theodore. The world is crumbling, and not in the way that ends up in my favor,” she hisses, her perfect façade slipping for a moment as anger burns in her narrowed eyes.

“I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t,” she sneers, disregarding me and patronizing me like always.