I follow, hitting the ground harder than I'd like. My back protests. Geo's bullets might be healing, but the muscle memory of pain lingers. By the time I straighten up, Geo is helping Cosima out of the window, his massive hands spanning her soft waist as he lifts her down gently on the ground.
A growl rumbles up from my chest before I can stop it.Mine. The word pounds through my head in time with my heartbeat.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Down, boy," Raven says dryly, already drawing his weapon. "Save the pissing contest for later."
I reach for my own gun, the piece of shit I grabbed at the market after Geo confiscated my favorite. The weight is all wrong, the grip uncomfortable in my hand. I'm calculating how many shots I might get off before it jams when Raven sighs.
"Here." He holds out a familiar golden gun, the shiny metal gleaming in the afternoon sun.
I freeze. "I would've thought Geo melted this down for scrap metal."
Raven's lips quirk in that secretive smile that means he's been up to something. "He was going to. But I know where he keeps all his valuables."
"Of course you do," I mutter, taking the gun. This one's weight is perfect, the grip worn smooth by my hands over years of use.
It feels like home.
Which is fucking ridiculous. It's just a gun.
But Raven gave it to me, all those years ago. The first gift anyone had ever given me that wasn't payment for a job or an attempt to buy my loyalty. Bought it with his cut of our first big haul together. He'd presented it with a sheepish little smile I haven't seen in years.
The weight of his eyes on me is almost physical. I can feel him watching, waiting for... something. A thank you? An acknowledgment?
Might as well wave a fucking white flag.
I check the clip instead, pleased to find it fully loaded. "We should move. They're going to notice their prince is missing soon."
"Right," Raven says, and there's something like disappointment in his voice. "Of course."
I tell myself the twist in my gut is just adrenaline. The way my fingers itch to reach for him is just muscle memory. The urge to protect him, to keep him close, to claim him all over again, it's nothing more than the lingering effect of playing his protector for so long.
Nothing more.
It can't be anything more.
Chapter 22
KNIGHT
carry him.
alpha who sometimes wears a bird mask.
know his scent.
sharp and clean.
not first time we met.
remember lab.
remember his face through glass.
pretending to be a white-coated god.
didn't belong.
