Dr. Rami straightens, clearly affronted. "Your Highness, this procedure is perfectly safe?—"
"I don't give a shit," Azarel snarls, already moving toward me. "Cosima, we're leaving."
The command in his voice makes something inside me rebel instantly. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze with all the frost I can muster when I'm half tempted to take him up on it. "I don't remember asking your permission."
He stops like I've slapped him. "You don't understand what they're looking for," he grits out.
"Then maybe you should have told me instead of keeping secrets." My voice comes out colder than I intended, but I'm too angry to care. Too scared. Too fucking tired of being left in the dark by him.
"I couldn't—" He drags a hand through his long black hair with a frustrated, wolfish sound that's somewhere between a growl and a hard sigh. "There are things you don't know. Things that could?—"
"Be dangerous?" I finish for him, watching his face blanch. "Yeah, Nikolai mentioned that. Funny how even he was more honest with me than you've ever been."
Azarel flinches with each word like they’re punching him in the fucking face.
Good.
Heshouldhurt.
"Get out," I say to Azarel, my voice flat. "You lost the right to make any decisions for me when you abandoned me to rot. So unless you're going to actually tell me what the fuck is going on, get the hell out of my sight."
His face falls like I’ve just killed him. "Cosima, I can’t?—"
"Now."
For a moment, I think he's going to argue. Going to push back with that alpha authority he wields so well. But then his jaw clenches and his eyes darken with pain, like I just clawed into his ribcage and tore out his heart with my bare hands. But he turns and heads for the door. I watch him go, forcing myself not to feel anything about the defeated slope of his shoulders.
Once he's gone, even though I can sense he’s lingering right outside the door and listening, I turn back to the machine.
I’m still scared shitless, but I need answers. I deserve answers. And this appears to be my only shot, if my alphas are all terrified of telling me anything without doing this first.
"Let's get this over with," I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds even though the machine looks more like a coffin.
Dr. Rami nods, gesturing to the table. "If you'll lie down here, we'll get you prepared."
I move toward it on autopilot, my silk dress whispering around my thighs. The fabric's too fine for this place, too delicate. I feel exposed in ways that have nothing to do with the amount of skin showing.
Knight makes a soft, wary sound that tears at something in my chest. I turn to look at him, and those blue eyes are pleading with me.
Don't do this.
Don't lie down on that table.
Don't let them touch you.
I wish I could listen to him.
"Stay close," I tell him instead. "Please."
He moves immediately, positioning himself near the head of the table where I'll be able to see him. Where he can watch over me.
The doctors glance at my silent guardian with clear terror in their wide eyes, but they don’t argue with me.
Neither do my alphas.
Instead, they arrange themselves around the room. Nikolai near the control panel where he can see the readouts, Geo by the door like one of the bouncers at his club, Raven hovering near Knight. Knight growls softly every time Raven drifts too close to me, and I can only pray he doesn’t completely lose his shit when I slide into the fucking halo.
I climb onto the table, the movement awkward in the dress. The silk pools around my thighs as I settle back, and I tug it down as much as I can. My silver hair spills across the white cloth like a halo of my own, and I'm acutely aware of how vulnerable I look like this.
