She laughs, a bitter sound that doesn't sound like her. "Why not?" She gestures around at the relatively plush surroundings. "The ambiance of Geo's underground chateau isn't to your liking?"
I get up, ignoring the protest of my injured body, and put some distance between us. "Not when you're not yourself," I clarify.
The words seem to catch her off guard, eyes widening slightly. And that enrages me more than anything. Because why the fuck should that surprise her? How shitty are the alphas she's known that the bare minimum of decency is shocking? That she acts surprised when one doesn't want to fuck her when she's clearly not in a good state of mind?
Before she can say anything further, the door opens and Raven walks in, carrying a pitcher of water and some vials that must be medicine. He stops short at the scene before him—Cosima disheveled on the bed, me standing shirtless a few feet away, clearly agitated.
"Oh, you're alive," Raven says, his tone suggesting he's not entirely pleased with this development. His gaze slides to Cosima in the bed, and his expression cycles through flustered,jealous, and murderous in rapid succession. "Pardon the interruption," he grits out, his lip curling.
"You weren't interrupting a damn thing," Cosima mutters, slipping past us both and out the door before I can say another word.
The moment she's gone, Raven slams the pitcher down on a side table and has me pinned against the wall, forearm pressed to my throat before I can fucking blink. My movements are still sluggish, but I'm not sure if it's from the lingering effects of the fever, or the shit they've been giving me during those brief flickers of lucidity.
"What the fuck did you do?" he hisses, face inches from mine.
I throw my hands up in frustration. "What didIdo? I woke up to her sitting on my fucking chest with a knife in her hand!"
Raven's face goes blank, the fury draining away to be replaced by something that looks almost like indignation. He steps back, releasing me.
"Why is fortune always wasted on the least deserving?" he mutters, more to himself than to me.
I roll my eyes, brushing past him to try to find clothes. The drawers of the wooden dresser are empty, and I grumble my frustration. "I need something to wear."
"First things first, you need a shower," Raven bites out.
He's not wrong. My hair and skin is sticky with dried sweat and blood. At least I know he hasn't been giving me sponge baths. The only thing worse than that would be Geo.
Actually, wait, no.
The Knight.
But there's something else bothering me, something about Cosima's expression as she fled the room. "What happened?" I ask, turning back to face Raven.
He hesitates, fidgeting with one of the medicine vials. "She didn't know," he says finally. "About Azarel. Who he is. Where he's from."
"And who is he?" I press, more curious than I want to be about a guy I'd happily shoot first and ask questions later. Now it sounds like I might actually have a justification beyond the fact that he's touched her.
Raven's eyes meet mine. "Crown prince of Surhiira. One of them, at any rate. Apparently, he neglected to tell her."
Huh. So that's what she was upset about. "She seems like the type who'd be thrilled," I remark dryly. "Tiaras and all that fancy royal bullshit."
Raven scoffs. "You know nothing about omegas if you think that," he says, shaking his head. "She's upset he lied, obviously."
I consider that. Makes sense, especially in light of her cryptic little remark. "Since she hasn't taken off, maybe she'll finally give up on the douchebag," I mutter.
Raven's expression turns strange, almost nostalgic. "Don't be so sure," he says cryptically. "Some douchebags are harder to get over than others."
I stare at him, trying to read whatever's behind those words. But before I can pursue it, he clears his throat and says, "I'll leave a change of clothes outside the shower. I'm sure I havesomethingyou can wear."
I grunt acknowledgment and move toward the bathroom to start the shower up before I lose my cool.
The hot water stings my wounds, and so does the soap, but it's a good kind of pain. As the steam rises around me, I find my thoughts returning to Cosima. To the look in her eyes when I pinned her wrists. To the desperate heat of her kiss.
I'm alive, and she's still here.
Two miracles.
But it's definitely the wrong fucking time to tell her she's my mate. She's angry, hurt, confused. And she's still hung up on her alpha prince, even if she's pissed at him right now.
