Nikolai, on the other hand, looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. His jaw is working so hard I can hear his teeth grinding from three feet away.
"Keep that up and your jaw's going to snap off," I tell him.
"Shut up," he snarls, but he isn't actually pissed off for once. It's just the frustrated rage of a man watching someone else hold what he wants.
Join the fucking club,I think, but keep my mouth shut.
Another hour crawls by before we finally reach the entrance. A cheerful beta in pristine white robes beams at us like we're her long-lost family instead of a ragtag group of obvious outsiders.
"Welcome to the Royal Palace of Surhiira!" she chirps, adding in a few words of accented Vrissian. She must peg us as tourists from that region based on the appearance of Cosima, Nikolai, and Knight. "I'll be your guide today as we explore the public wings of Their Majesties' residence. Please stay with the group and don't touch any of the artifacts."
She launches into what sounds like a memorized spiel about the architecture, pointing out carved columns and painted ceilings with the enthusiasm of someone who actually gives a shit about this stuff. I tune her out, scanning the entryway for security cameras, guard positions, potential exits.
"Remember," I mutter low enough that only our group can hear, "we're just here to do reconnaissance. We figure out a plan once we know the lay of the place and where the Ghosts are."
"The Ghosts wouldn't be in the palace itself," Nikolai mutters.
"Obviously," I bite back. "But this is where the search begins. And Plague is a prince, remember? He's the one we need to talk to, so he's more likely to be here."
Nikolai can't argue with that logic, though he looks like he wants to try.
"This place makes the Reinmich state house look like Geo's underground cesspit," Cosima mumbles, still in Raven's arms like she's royalty herself as we follow the tour group deeper into the palace.
"If you keep talking like a brat, I'm going to put you over my knee," I tell her.
I'm joking—mostly—but the way her cheeks flush pink above that veil catches me completely off guard and I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from reacting visibly.
Well, fuck me sideways. Maybe I wasn't imagining her reaction when I called her a good girl at the store after all.
Interesting.
I never imagined I'd want anything to do with an omega. They're all way too high maintenance for my taste, at least for anything serious. And Cosima? She's probably the most high-maintenance omega of all time. Just not in the way I expected. Case in point—we're all here in the fucking Surhiiran royal palace, hunting down her ex's family like it's a casual Tuesday outing.
But I can't deny I'm drawn to her.
I tell myself it's not something I have time to sort out right now anyway. We just need to focus on finding this Azzhole of hers, and clearly, it falls to me to make sure we all get out of this alive.
Somehow.
The tour guide leads us through a series of increasingly opulent rooms. Each one is more ridiculous than the last. Walls covered in draping silk tapestries depicting Surhiiran victories and absolutely no losses, floors inlaid with precious stones inpatterns that must have taken decades to complete, ceilings painted with scenes of their gods doing whatever the fuck gods do in their spare time. Especially the ibis. That ibis they worship iseverywhere.
No wonder Plague goes with avian motifs.
But there's no sign of him. Or of the rest of the royal family, which isn't really a surprise. The family's private quarters are probably in a completely different wing, far away from the grubby hands and eyes of tourists.
"We should split up. Cover more ground," Raven suggests, finally setting Cosima down when she taps his shoulder. She starts checking out one of the paintings depicting an overly muscled god with horns and leathery wings lounging on a stone throne. Guess she's a monsterfucker through and through.
"And what, exactly, are you planning?" I ask warily, recognizing that gleam in his eye. It's the same look he gets right before he does something spectacularly stupid.
"Oh, nothing much," he says, already reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigar. One ofmycigars. "Just a little diversion."
My hands fly to my pockets and sure enough, the little shit somehow managed to nick it off me. When the fuck did he have time and how the hell did I not feel it?
Before I can tell him to stop, he's pulled out a match, struck it against his boot, lit the damn cigar he stole, and tossed it into a decorative waste basket filled with what looks like dried flowers and incense sticks.
The basket immediately starts smoking.
"That's a good idea," Cosima says brightly, like Raven didn't just commit arson in the royal fucking palace. "Raven, Knight, and I will take the west wing. Nikolai and Geo can search the east."
