Cosima's standing by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the gardens where that shitshow with Azarel went down. She hasn't said a word since we all went back inside, but the furyradiating off her is thick enough to choke on. The silk robes they gave her are torn from the struggle, and there's still garden dirt in her silver hair.
Somehow, she makes even that look regal.
Knight's positioned himself between her and the door like a living barricade, those burning blue eyes tracking every movement in the room through the eyeholes of his impassive silver mask. He hasn't stopped growling since Azarel showed his face, a low rumble that's more felt than heard. Every so often, his metal arm sparks, damaged from the fight but still functional enough to tear someone's head off if needed.
Can't believe I'm jealous he almost got the chance, but my alpha instincts are all haywire where Cosima's concerned. I'm supposed to be the one holding these idiots back, but one look at Azzhole or whatever the fuck his name is and I wanted to shoot the smug look off his face.
Especially knowing he tried to take her from us.
"The fucking audacity," Nikolai snarls, pacing like a caged animal again. "Shows up after abandoning her for weeks, tries to throw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and expects what? A tearful reunion?"
"Don't forget the part where he lied about literally everything," Raven adds, perched on the arm of an obscenely expensive couch. His nose is still bruised to hell, but if there's one silver lining to Azarel showing up, it's that he's stopped bitching about it for a second. "Being a prince, his identity, his intentions. The man's a walking red flag factory."
I grunt in agreement, though my mind's churning through the long-term implications of this clusterfuck. Azarel's not just somerandom alpha trying to claim Cosima. He's a fucking prince, second in line to the throne of Surhiira, with all the resources and power that comes with it.
And he's also working for Arthur Maybrecht.
Which means we're caught between two of the most powerful men on the continent, both of whom have a claim on the woman we're all stupidly attached to.
"We need a plan," I say, because someone has to be the voice of reason in this circus. "Standing around bitching about him isn't going to change the fact that he's here, he wants her, and he's got the home field advantage."
"I vote we kill him," Nikolai says with the casual tone of someone suggesting we order takeout. "Quick, clean, problem solved. The Queen's got two other sons. She won't even notice."
Knight's growl deepens in what sounds like agreement.
"As satisfying as that would be," Raven says, examining his nails with affected casualness, "murdering a prince in his own palace might complicate our new employment situation."
"Fuck the employment situation," Nikolai snaps. "You saw how she looked at him."
I did.
We all did.
Made me want to nuke the whole damn world all over again. I never want to see that kind of pain in her eyes again.
We all turn to look at Cosima, who's still staring out the window like she can will herself somewhere else. At least she's notdissociating right now, but I'm not sure her current state's much more pleasant.
The dimming sunlight catches in her silver hair, turning it to liquid moonlight, and my gut twists into knots.
"So maybe we kill him," I mutter.
Raven's eyes light up like he's been waiting for this all along. "Then it's settled! We form a temporary truce until Azarel is dead."
"Yeah, fine," Nikolai says with a burdened sigh. "Just until he's dead."
Knight growls again in agreement, flexing his metal hand. A few sparks shoot out of the joints. Pretty sure we need to get him to a mechanic instead of just a medic.
"No one is killing anyone."
The voice comes from directly behind us, so fucking close that Nikolai actually jolts like someone just tasered him. He spins around, hand going for the weapon the Surhiiran guards already confiscated, and finds Cosima standing there with her arms crossed and a withering glare on her face.
"Fuck!" Nikolai hisses, pressing a hand to his chest like he's checking his heart's still beating. "Where the hell did you learn to move that quietly?"
She shrugs, a ghost of her usual smirk playing at her lips. "Finishing school. They taught us how to enter and exit rooms without disturbing the alphas' important business discussions."
"That's the creepiest fucking thing I've ever heard," I mutter, though I'm secretly impressed. Most omegas from Reinmich aretaught to be seen and not heard and all that other bullshit, but apparently Cosima's education included actual stealth training.
"You were literally just planning murder," she points out, raising an eyebrow. "ButI'mthe creepy one?"
