Chapter 31 – COSIMA
COSIMA
The walk back to the palace feels like the world's most fucked up parade.
We're not exactly prisoners—no chains or shackles—but the Ghosts surround us like a moving cage, ready to go on the offensive if any of us steps out of line.
Valek stalks to our left, that rifle of his still at the ready despite Plague's orders to stand down.
Thane brings up the rear, while Whiskey flanks us on the right, his rocket launcher mercifully slung across his back instead of aimed at our faces.
Wraith just looms. Silent and imposing, his lower face hidden behind that white scarf, blue eyes tracking every movement.
Every so often, he glances at Knight and his eyes lighten with hope.
I'm not the only one who's noticed. Every time he looks, Knight growls.
I think my giant guardian is menaced.
The last time, Valek cackled but cut off abruptly when Wraith's eyes turned to steel again.
My alphas form their own protective circle around me. It's like being caught between two apex predator packs. The air is charged with the knowledge that one wrong move and it'll be a blood bath all over again.
The guards at the palace gates eye us with barely masked wariness. Their hands hover near their weapons, ready to draw at the first sign of trouble. One of them, a young beta with nervous eyes, stares a little too long at Knight's imposing form, his face blanching.
I shoot him a look that could wither a tree.
The guard's eyes widen and he takes an involuntary step back. Thane cocks an eyebrow at me from behind his mask, and Knight's responding growl makes the poor guard nearly jump out of his skin.
"Behave," Geo snaps at me under his breath, his voice rough with exhaustion.
"I am behaving," I protest, though I can't quite keep the smirk off my face. "I didn't say a word."
"Your face is loud enough," he counters.
Raven snickers and the corner of Nikolai's mouth twitches.
"Need I remind you, we're lucky we're not walking to a guillotine?" Geo mutters, glaring at us all.
"Yet," Nikolai adds helpfully, adjusting his flashy red glasses.
Raven perks up at the mention of execution. "Oh, I was almost guillotined once," he says with the same cheerful tone most people use to discuss the weather. "Back in Reinmich. Nasty business, really. But I offered to blow the executioner, got the upper hand, and cut his dick off instead."
We all stare at him. Whiskey looks green, like he's imagining his dick getting cut off. Even Plague looks mildly disturbed.
"What?" Raven shrugs, completely unrepentant. "I let him finish first. I'm not a monster."
Geo lets out a weary sigh that seems to come from the depths of his soul. "I mean it," he whispers urgently. "Everyone on good behavior. We don't need the royals deciding to lop off our heads because we're a pack of animals with no manners."
I bristle at the implication. "Excuse me? I have excellent manners. I went to the finest finishing schools in Reinmich."
"Schools with an 's' implies you had to go twice," Nikolai quips.
"Oh, fuck off," I hiss.
"Such finish."
Geo's eye fixes on me with the look of a man who's reached the end of his rope. "You're the most rabid mongoose in the whole pack."
"I'm pretty sure a pack of mongoose is called a band," Raven chimes in.
"It's mongeese," Whiskey calls from behind us, his voice dripping with overconfident alpha authority. He turns to Plague with a grin. "Right, babe?"
"No," Plague says flatly.
The palace interior is even more opulent than I remembered from our brief tour-turned-kidnapping-spree.
Marble floors gleam under crystal chandeliers, and every surface is covered in enough gold to sink a ship.
The entryway soars above us, supported by elaborate columns that make it look every inch the palace it is.
Plague pauses in the center of the space, his pale blue eyes scanning the area with obvious confusion. "Where's Ivy?"
The other Ghosts exchange glances. Thane shrugs. "Thought she'd be here to greet us."
"She's probably still dealing with the rescue mission," Valek suggests, though he sounds uncertain.
Whiskey frowns. "That's not like her. She usually—"
"We should deal with medical first," Plague interrupts, his commander mask sliding back into place. "Everyone's injured, and we need to assess the damage before—"
"No," Geo cuts him off.
"Absolutely not," Nikolai adds.
Knight's growl is low enough to make the floor rumble.
I look around at my battered pack—because that's what they are now, isn't it?—and feel something twist in my chest.
They're all hurt. Knight's metal arm is badly damaged, sparks shooting from the joints every few seconds.
Geo's favoring his left leg so heavily he's practically hopping.
Nikolai's got blood seeping through his shirt from gods know how many wounds.
And Raven's beautiful face is a mess of cuts and bruises, his nose clearly broken.
They need medical attention. But I know these stubborn bastards well enough to know they'll refuse on principle.
Time for some strategic manipulation.
"I'll let anyone who complies help me through my next heat," I announce sweetly.
The effect is immediate and devastating. All four of my alphas freeze like I've just hit them with a stun gun.
Inwardly, I'm already calculating. With the stress and trauma of recent events, plus the suppressants I've been taking religiously, I probably won't go into heat again for months. But they don't need to know that.
"Medical bay it is," Nikolai croaks.
"Suddenly feeling very cooperative," Raven agrees, his voice pitched higher than usual.
Geo just nods mutely, and Knight falls into step beside me like a giant, obedient shadow.
The medical bay is a far cry even from Reinmich's elite facilities. Everything gleams with sterile perfection, and I barely recognize some of the equipment. Automated diagnostic machines hum quietly in the corners, and the scent of antiseptic is so strong it makes my eyes water.
A doctor in pristine white robes approaches with a warm smile, speaking in rapid Surhiiran as he gestures for us to take seats on the examination tables. When he turns to me with the same expectant expression, I shake my head firmly.
"Not me, I'm fine," I say in Surhiiran, backing away from his outstretched hands.
Don't touch me.
Nikolai snorts from where he's reluctantly allowing another medic to examine his wounds. "Being a bit of a hypocrite, aren't you?"
"I'm fine," I snap, crossing my arms defensively.
The alphas exchange one of those looks. The kind that says they're communicating without words, which always pisses me off. Even Plague, who's followed us into the medical bay, seems to be part of their silent conversation.
"What?" I demand.
Geo's the one who finally speaks, his voice carefully neutral. "It wouldn't hurt to have your head examined."
Boiling hot rage flares inside me. "Excuse me?"
"Smooth," Raven mutters, shooting Geo a look.
"For once, he's right," Nikolai announces, because apparently today is opposite day. "You space the fuck out, Cosima. Last time with a fucking gun in your hand. That's not normal."
The walls of the medical bay suddenly feel too close, the antiseptic smell too sharp.
My hands clench into fists at my sides as familiar panic starts to claw its way up my throat.
Medical exams have always meant one thing in my experience.
A loss of autonomy. Doctors poking and prodding while discussing my body like I'm not even in the room.
Pronouncing me fit for breeding or declaring my mental state "concerning" to whichever alpha holds my leash.
"There's nothing wrong with me," I grit out, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice.
"Goddess..." Raven's voice is gentle, worried, and that somehow makes it worse. Even Knight has turned from his examination to fix those burning blue eyes on me with obvious concern.
The flashbacks are starting to bleed in around the edges of my vision. I can feel myself starting to dissociate again, that familiar numbness creeping in to protect me from the memories. Which will only prove their fucking point.
"We'll talk about it later," Geo mutters finally.
Plague nods, seeming to accept Geo's decision. "You'll all need full workups eventually anyway, before you can be officially initiated as the new Ghosts. In the meantime..." He gestures toward a side door. "Perhaps you'd like to clean up and change into more suitable clothing?"
The alphas tense, and I can see Nikolai about to argue, but I'll take my chance with these Surhiiran strangers.
"It's fine," I interject again, already following the attendants toward the door.
I can tell they're curious as they escort me to the bathing chambers, but I can only pick out bits and pieces as they speak in soft Surhiiran and draw a bath that smells like jasmine and honey.
The baths are huge and luxurious, but mostly I'm relieved to be out of that medical bay.
I try to relax and let myself be pampered for the first time in. .. gods, I can't even remember.
I close my eyes and drift deeper into the water as the attendants give me some space and privacy, trying not to think about anything that just happened. Which leads my thoughts right back to their favorite subject to torture me with.
Azarel.
How many times has he walked these very halls? What would he think if he knew I was here?
He clearly didn't want me to know who he actually is, where he came from beyond the vaguest parameters. And the only reason I can think of is that he's embarrassed.
Of me.
If I ever see him again, I'll give him something to be embarrassed about.
The silk robes they provide afterward are beyond luxurious. Softer than anything I owned even in Reinmich, in a deep sapphire blue that's universally flattering. The fabric flows around me like water, and for a moment I feel like the princess Nikolai suggested I could have been.