Arthur Maybrecht needs to die.
Slowly. Painfully.
And I want to be the one holding the knife.
Chapter 42
COSIMA
The medical winggleams like something out of a pre-war hospital catalog. White walls stretch in every direction, broken only by chrome surfaces that catch and multiply the harsh fluorescent lighting until everything feels overexposed. The smell hits me next—antiseptic so sharp it makes my eyes water, layered with that particular sterile scent that screamsmedical facilityin a way that makes my skin crawl.
I've been in enough of these places. First as a child when my father had me checked for defects, then later when Monty wanted to ensure I was still viable breeding stock. The memories claw their way up my throat, but I shove them back down where they belong.
Not now.
Knight's massive form blocks part of the doorway behind me, and I feel the change in him immediately. His breathing shifts, becoming rapid and shallow. The low rumble that's almost always present in his chest kicks up several notches, vibrating through the floor.
Shit.
I turn to look at him, and even though his mask hides his entire face, the panic in those blue eyes is clear enough through the eyeholes. They're tracking every white-coated figure, every piece of gleaming equipment, every surface that's too clean and too bright.
Of course medical settings would trigger him. Whatever those monsters did to him, it happened in a place that likely looked just like this.
Behind me, Nikolai and Geo file in, followed by Raven. The space suddenly feels too small, too crowded. Too many alphas radiating tension, too many doctors and assistants in pristine coats moving around with purpose that sets my teeth on edge.
Knight's growl deepens and his metal claws flex slightly, the curved blades glinting under the lights. They're chipped, damaged from all the fighting lately. I carefully wrap my hand around one of the claws, minding the bladed edge.
"Hey," I murmur, moving to stand in front of him, careful to stay within his line of sight. "Look at me."
His eyes snap to mine, wide and wild.
I place my other hand on the massive bicep of his human arm, caressing his scarred skin. He quivers at my touch, and I realize he's… shaking. His entire body is trembling enough that his bone-white hair is vibrating where it brushes his broad shoulders.
"I need you to trust me," I say quietly, keeping my voice steady even though my own heart is trying to beat its way out of mychest. My hand slides off his arm to cup his masked cheek in my palm. I have to stretch up to reach. "Can you do that?"
His head tilts down toward mine and he leans into my touch, those blue eyes searching my face.
"Prince Hamsa is here to supervise," one of the doctors says, clearing his throat and gesturing to where Plague stands near some kind of control panel. He's watching us carefully, and I can't read his expression at all above the black surgical mask covering his lower face. "As are your... companions."
"My alphas," I correct him.
The doctor's eyes flick doubtfully over them. "Right."
Knight's growl kicks up again, and I squeeze his arm gently. His rigid posture softens fractionally, though his eyes never stop tracking the medical personnel moving around us, and he flinches when a woman in a white coat approaches. Dr. Rami, according to her name badge. She's got kind eyes above the sheer beaded veil, at least, which is more than I can say for most of the doctors who've examined me over the years.
"Miss Maybrecht," she says, her voice gentle. "If you'll come this way, we can begin."
I follow her deeper into the medical bay, hyperaware of Knight's heavy footsteps behind me. Geo and Nikolai fall into formation on either side of me, while Raven trails us at the rear, acting just as on edge. My own personal guard detail, except it feels like I'm walking to my execution.
I'm actually fucking scared.
But if I show it, if I say I'm having second thoughts about all this because I have a weird feeling prickling in my chest that something isn't right, Knight might react.
And Knight's version of "reacting" could very well be tearing everyone in the room apart to protect me.
The machine isn't in the room so much as the room is built around it. It's a massive metal ring like some kind of halo connected to a long table that's clearly meant to slide underneath it. The monstrosity is all shiny chrome and white marble material with enough blinking lights and floating displays to make it look like something out of a pre-war science fiction film.
My throat goes dry.
