Raven's voice continues in a soft murmur, his accent flawless as he reads some romantic passage in Vrissian that's clearly intended to impress Cosima. The bastard is pulling out all the stops, and it's working. I can tell from the way her lips curve upward at particularly poetic phrases, the way her eyes occasionally flick up to his face with something dangerously close to admiration.
"It's getting to the good part," she murmurs, shifting slightly in Raven's lap.
My cock twitches traitorously at the sound of her voice. I grit my teeth, focusing on the pain rather than the intimacy playing out before me.
Raven, not me.
His lap, not mine.
So close, yet nowhere near where I need her to be.
Raven complies, turning the page with those elegant fingers, and continues reading. He's wearing one of the Surhiiran robes now, the white fabric making his golden hair look even more vibrant. His wounded innocence routine is so convincing that sometimes even I forget what he really is. What he's capable of.
What we did together.
The memory of Raven beneath me, golden hair splayed across my pillows as he begged for more, flashes unbidden through my mind. I push it away violently. Ancient history. Doesn't matter now.
He left. End of story.
Except it's not, is it? Because here we are, trapped in a fucking train car hurtling toward certain death, and I still can't stop watching him. Watching both of them. Still can't stop wanting what I shouldn't.
Not when she's heading straight for a reunion with that Surhiiran prince who broke her heart. The prince she still loves, even if she won't admit it.
The train begins to slow, metal wheels screeching against the tracks. Cosima sits up with a catlike yawn and a stretch,dislodging Raven's hand from her hair. I curl my fingers into a fist, chasing the ghost of a touch I never even had.
"We're here," Raven announces, closing his book. "Everyone remember their roles?"
Geo grunts from his position by the door. He's been alternating between watching the corridor and watching us for hours. "Hard to forget. We're a pack traveling with our omega. Looking for a better life."
"Boring but effective," Raven says with a shrug. He turns to Cosima. "Ready, goddess?"
She nods and takes his offered hand, rising gracefully to her feet. The emerald silk of her Surhiiran robes flows around her like water, catching the light in a way that makes her look even more otherworldly. Her silver hair has been arranged in an intricate braid down her back, with a few strands left loose to frame her face. A sheer veil hangs from a delicate circlet, ready to be pulled down over the lower half of her face.
She looks... perfect.
Like she belongs here, in these silks, in this world of luxury and beauty. My chest constricts with a painful mix of both pride and dread. Pride, because she's fucking magnificent, and somehow, against all odds, she's with me right now. Dread, because once she sees Surhiira—once she remembers what it's like to live somewhere civilized—why would she ever look back?
Why would she ever choose the wasteland?
Choose any of us?
The train comes to a complete stop, metal groaning as it settles on the tracks. Raven moves to the door, peering out througha small gap in the curtains. "Border outpost," he confirms. "Minimal guards. I'll go speak with my contact."
"I'll come with you," I say, standing before I can think better of it. The words surprise even me, but I plow ahead.
Raven's eyebrows rise slightly, but he nods. "Fine. The rest of you, wait here until we give the all-clear."
Geo scowls. "I don't like splitting up."
"It's a border checkpoint, not a battlefield," Raven says with more patience than I'd expect. "We'll be visible the entire time."
Geo grumbles something unintelligible, but doesn't argue further. Cosima approaches me, and for a wild moment I think she's going to kiss me goodbye. Instead, she adjusts the scarf around my neck, the points of her nails dragging against my skin and giving me fucking goosebumps.
"Try not to stab anyone," she says, her lips quirking up at one corner.
"No promises," I mutter.
Her touch has short-circuited my brain.
