"Of course you are," I tell him. "You feed me, you taught me to shoot, and you haven't once tried to force me to do anything. That puts you far ahead of most alphas I've known."
Nikolai's mouth drops open in outrage. "That means I'mlast? After everything we've been through?"
"Until recently, yes," I say. "But Azarel is last now, so by default, you're fourth."
The train lurches into motion beneath us, the sudden movement punctuated by the clank and groan of ancient metal finding its rhythm. Nikolai stumbles slightly before catching himself on one of the built-in tables and almost taking the incense swan's beak in his good eye.
"Guess I'll have to work with that," he mutters, but there's a gleam in his eye that wasn't there before. A challenge accepted.
Gods, he issuchan alpha.
Knight's arm slips around my waist, hesitantly pulling me against him. I happily let him, watching Raven fetch a bottle of wine and several glasses from a cabinet near the front of the car.
"I think this calls for a celebration," Raven says, expertly uncorking the bottle. "To our first night on the rails, and to toppling princes from their pedestals." He pours generous measures into four glasses, hesitating when he reaches Knight. "I'm not sure if... do you?"
Knight shakes his head once, the motion curt but not unfriendly.
Raven nods and passes the glasses around, saving mine for last. Our fingers brush as he hands me the glass and his eyes meet mine briefly. For once, his easy charm slips to reveal something far more genuine beneath.
"Thank you," I murmur, and we both know I'm thanking him for more than just the wine.
He inclines his head in a small bow. "My pleasure, goddess."
The wine is surprisingly good. Rich and fruity without being too sweet. It warms me from the inside out, loosening the knot that's been sitting between my shoulder blades since we left the black market. Since I learned the truth about Azarel's identity.
Geo settles onto a cushion across from me, looking hilariously out of place amidst the opulence. The battered leather jacket doesn't help. He palms his wine glass in one hand, the stem sticking down between his fingers. "Not bad for a transport train," he muses.
Raven shrugs, settling onto a cushion near me, but not close enough to crowd me. "I paid the staff off. They won't bother us."
"And they're reliable?" Nikolai asks, still standing despite the comfortable seating available. He's never been one to relax easily.
"As reliable as anyone can be these days," Raven replies. "But I made sure they understand the consequences of betrayal. Plus, I've used this route before. The staff doesn't care who they transport as long as the price is right."
The train picks up speed, the wheels clacking rhythmically on the tracks. Outside the windows, the wasteland rolls by, bathed in the silver glow of the rising moon. It's strangely beautiful, in a desolate sort of way.
"So," I say, taking another sip of wine. "What's the plan once we reach the border? You still haven't shared the details of how we're supposed to get into the most isolationist nation on the continent without being shot on sight."
Raven swirls his wine thoughtfully. "There's a checkpoint at the border that's officially for trade inspections. The guards there can be bought, especially the night shift. I've arranged for us to be let through as trade representatives."
"Surhiiran guards?" Geo asks doubtfully.
"That's why I chose this particular outpost," Raven says with a wink. "With the war, the Queen has been sending more troops to New Reinmich. They've had to pull from civilians and hire mercenaries to cover shifts at the border. The perfect opportunity for less than scrupulous businessmen."
"Such as yourself," Nikolai adds dryly.
Raven just smirks.
"And they'll believe we're there to trade?" Geo scoffs. "Withhim?" He jerks his chin toward Knight.
Raven pauses to consider that. "I brought extra coin. Worst case scenario, we kill the guards."
"And once we're in?" Nikolai presses. "What then?"
"Then we head for the nearest settlement and gather information," Raven says. "We get some respectable clothes to blend in and pose as a respectable pack traveling with our beautiful omega."
It's probably just the wine, but my cheeks warm up a bit in response to his words. "Surhiira is a massive country," I murmur, even though I know from the books I stealthily read from my father's study that no one, not even Reinmich's officials, knows the full extent of its territory or population. "And it's not like we can just walk up to the palace and say to the Queen, 'Hey, I'm the omega your son has been fucking. Let me in.'"
Geo snorts so hard wine sprays from his mouth. Nikolai grimaces, as if the reminder of who Azarel is to me is offensive to him for some reason.
