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“Who cares about blankets?” I snap. “I’m so sick of repeating myself. You don’t know her. She’s manipulating you!”
He scoffs. “You’re fucking paranoid.”
“She could be a plant,” I point out, trying not to give in to the very real desire I have to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze.
Why is he so damn stubborn? Can’t he see I’m only trying to protect him?
“Varenthrall could have her set up as a honey trap. Alphas will expose themselves real fast if he can use his Omega daughter to manipulate their instinct to ‘save’ her.”
“You always think that. You always think Omegas are manipulating you somehow. They’re not. And she was on suppressants. Fucking military-grade if I had to guess. There was no manipulation happening.”
Caelan scrubs a hand over his shaved scalp, then pins me with a determined glare. “You don’t know what’s happening to her, so don’t accuse her of shit you have no proof of. I know one thing for sure—she wasn’t manipulating me.”
“Then why the fuck couldn’t you leave?”
I toss out the accusation and watch it explode like a bomb between us. Caelan’s eyes flash with pain—real pain—and I’m just about to apologize when the door swings open and Gav appears, looking like he wants nothing more than to throw us both down a flight of stairs.
“I’m so fucking sick of you two fighting about this shit,” He growls. “Caelan is the best stealth operative we have. He got in and out last time, and he got us the information we needed. This is his job to see through.”
I try to protest, but keep quiet when he turns his steely gaze on me.
“You are not his fucking babysitter, Daxen. You are his packmate. If you’re that opposed to my decision, you can file a formal fucking complaint.” He pauses. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”
I stiffen, barely catching myself before I glance at Caelan and give myself away. I clear my throat, swallowing down the guilt and fear that are doing their best to choke me. “No, sir. I’m just trying to do my job.”
“Your job is not to play armchair psychiatrist. I don’t want to hear anymore about this shit, got it?” He turns to Caelan before I can open my mouth to respond.
“You don’t get anywhere near the East Wing of that house. That is a direct fucking order. Do I make myself clear?”
Caelan clenches his jaw, meeting Gavran’s gaze head-on.
“Yes, sir. Crystal clear.”
The silence that falls is thick with tension, as we follow Gav back into the room. We’re all clearly on edge. I can damn near taste the pheromones in the room despite the scent neutralizer pumping through the vents.
Riven clears his throat. He stands at the head of the bed now, gazing at the Omega thoughtfully.
His eyes meet mine, and I stiffen at what I see.
“What?” I bark, tone a little too sharp, still a little too on edge.
Riven doesn’t even flinch. I swear, nothing affects him, not even my attitude. “Have I ever told you how I got this?”
He slips off the onyx bracelet he always wears. The stones gleam in the light.
Gav shrugs. “Assumed it was some kind of family heirloom.”
Riv snorts in derision. “Hardly. Any heirlooms my parents had, they sold off long ago in a fruitless attempt to purchase clout. No, this is something all my own.”
He turns it over in his hands, thumb tracing the curve of the stone with reverence.
“Very touching,” Vae replies dryly. “Love a good jewelry origin story. Is there a point you’re getting to or…”
The smile Riven shoots him reminds me of a shark. Predatory and full of teeth. “As a matter of fact, I do have a point I’m getting to.”
He pulls his chair closer to the bed and sits, clasping his hands between his legs. “What I’m about to share does not leave this room.”
“Yes. Alright.” Vae quickly agrees, but Riven isn’t addressing us.
