Page 252
“Omega—” I curse under my breath, trying to rein in my snarl. She stays silent as I straighten and level her with a look.
“Why don’t you have shoes and socks on?” I ask, raising a brow.
Her eyes flick to Riven—who’s pretending like he’s not listening to every godsdamned word—back to me, and then to the doorway.
Then, something changes. She clenches her jaw, narrows her eyes, and lifts her delicate chin. With a defiance I didn’t think possible, she stares me right in the eyes and says, “I wasn’t given any.”
Her simple reply doubles as both answer and accusation, and my shame burns hotter.
“Why were none provided for you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.
She wants to say something. I can almost see the words on the tip of her tongue, but she bites them back. Instead, she sits stoically and stares at my chest. I lean forward, forearms on the table.
“Why?”
“How the fuck,” Riven cuts in, his tone full of recrimination, “would she possibly have an answer to that question?” He leans in as well, and the look on his face screams ‘Pissed Off Older Brother.’
Which… what the fuck?
“You know, I always thought the whole Im-too-pretty-to-be-smart thing was a tactic you used to get people to underestimate you. But maybe I gave you too much credit.” He cocks his head. “Tell me, does it hurt when you think in full sentences?”
An irritated scoff announces Daxen entering the room behind me.
“Leave him alone, Riven. Gods, you’re in a foul mood this morning.”
I open my mouth, intending to ask Dax what the hell Riven’s problem is, but the words that tumble out instead are, “Why doesn’t Idril have socks and shoes?”
Pretty sure I look as shocked as Dax does, because that was… not at all what I meant to say.
My packmate glances at the Omega. “Why would she need socks and shoes? She’s not going anywhere, and she’s not here to be comfortable.”
I didn’t think someone as small as Idril could get even smaller, but somehow she does. It takes everything in me not to reach for her and offer what little comfort I can.
My jaw ticks, and I bite my cheek to keep from saying anything stupid—like suggesting she curl up on my lap and let me purr for her.
“What’s she here for, then?” Riven asks, spinning a gold fountain pen in his fingers. “Just curious.”
He flashes Dax a smile full of teeth.
If they weren’t close friends, I’d be worried that Dax might stab him in the throat.
“Ultimately, she’s here to help us bring down her father,” he cuts a disgusted look her way. “If she ever bothers to stop lying through her teeth. And when Caelan wakes up, and we find out what really happened, then she’ll be punished accordingly.”
I’m watching Idril closely—my new standard, apparently—so I don’t miss the way her hands ball into fists under the table or the subtle tick in her jaw when Dax says Caelan’s name.
Riven scoffs, but I interrupt before their Alpha pheromones get even thicker in here. We might have scent neutralizers built into every room, but they’re still overwhelming.
Leaning back, I arch a brow. “So why exactly is the Omega here now? I don’t think we need her help to decode fairytales.”
“We don’t.” Dax agrees. “That’s your job.”
He slides a few heavy books across the table toward me. “The Omega is transcribing historical texts too fragile to scan.”
I push a pulse of curiosity down the Bond. My eyes cut pointedly toward the Omega who’s bent over a sheath of papers, painstakingly copying lines from a loose text.
“She’s already well aware of what her father’s doing,” Dax answers my unspoken question out loud. “There’s nothing we’ll talk about that she’s going to take back to him.”
He catches her eye and gives her a satisfied smile, like they’re playing a game and he just scored a point.
