Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
POE
W hen Ares jumps up to follow Maya out of the room, Logan immediately snaps at him to sit the fuck back down.
“You’ve had as much alone time with her as you’re going to get,” Logan announces in response to the wide-eyed innocent response that Ares can’t quiet pull off successfully. “Don’t think I haven’t smelled her all over you, asshole. I said no touching her.”
“You said no fucking her,” Cillian points out, sounding somehow both smug and annoyed. “I’d suggest making finer distinctions in the future if you’re actually interested in turning your little Omega whore into a housewife.”
Logan looks at him like Cillian suddenly grew a second head. “The fuck did you just say?”
Cillian returns his attention to the agenda in his hand, but his murmured words are still clearly audible. “You heard me.”
“Is there a problem here?” Logan asks silkily.
“Of course not,” Cillian replies. He doesn’t actually roll his eyes, but the gesture is practically audible in his tone. “I suggest you run and fetch your precious Omega. We have preparations to make.”
Logan face slowly reddens with rage as he glares at the side of Cillian’s head. Violence is imminent if the tension doesn’t break soon.
Ares silently watches the back-and-forth between them like he is following the ball at a tennis match. His silence speaks volumes. If he isn’t making a stupid joke or unnecessary sexual innuendo, then something must really be wrong.
Logan and Cillian don’t argue. The beta is more like an extension of the prince than wholly his own person. That’s why Cillian has been entrusted as a royal guard, despite his designation. The two of them fighting together, as a team, is like watching a moon orbit its planet. They always worked in tandem, completely in sync.
I’ve never seen them antagonistic like this.
But I do know exactly who to blame for it.
I rise from my chair, the screech of the legs scraping against the floor enough to distract them. “I’ve got it.”
Logan turns his angry gaze on me. “Do you?”
My neck still throbs from yesterday’s punishment. Logan can kill me later, but I plan to nip our Omega problem in the bud first. This much discord is going to get us all killed. “I’m just going to bring her back. We’re wasting time.”
“Nobody has forgotten how much you hate her,” Ares accuses. “She isn’t any good to us in pieces.”
“Shut up, Ares.” Logan’s jaw clenches as he turns back to me. “Fine. But don’t?— “
“Touch her? Threaten her? Offer her money to leave again?” I arch an eyebrow. “Anything that might leave an impression would take at least ten minutes. Feel free to come find us if I’m not back in five.”
Cillian’s stylus scratches against the textured glass screen, pointedly ignoring us all. The sound grates against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“Just bring her back,” Logan orders, but his attention has already shifted back to Cillian as the temperature in the room drops another few degrees.
I exit before I have to witness whatever reckoning is brewing between those two. Nothing has been right between us recently and the realization that an easy fix isn’t forthcoming has started to worry me.
Maya is a problem, but she isn’t even our biggest one right now. Not with Ander’s death investigation looming and Cillian acting so strangely.
The hallway stretches empty before me, no sign of our wayward Omega. But tracking her scent makes it fairly easy to follow her trail through the apartment. She didn’t go for the main door, I note with some surprise. This isn’t an escape attempt then, but the desperate flight of a frightened animal, too panicked to realize they’re moving closer to danger rather than away from it.
I peek into the sitting room where her scent seems most concentrated, but don’t see her. It takes me almost ten full minutes to finally locate her, my annoyance mounting with each passing second. I’ve searched almost the entire second floor before I realize she has gone out onto the long balcony that connects all the bedrooms on this side of the apartment .
Maya stands at the railing, delicate hands gripping the wrought iron bar like she holds her only lifeline. Her back is to me, but I don’t miss the tense set of her shoulders and the way her body curves into itself, as if holding a weight too heavy for her.
“Thinking about jumping?” I ask in a mocking drawl.
Maya doesn’t startle, though her fingers tighten on the metal railing. She speaks without turning to look at me. “Not yet. Give it a little more time if you’re hoping, though.”
The mix of sarcasm and melancholy in her tone tempers some of my annoyance. Eventually, curiosity wins out. “How did you know it was me?”
“Your scent, mostly.” She sniffs once, as if clearing a runny nose. “You smell like the ocean.”
Melilla is land-locked, the nearest shore hundreds of miles away and entirely inaccessible to an unbonded Omega. “How the fuck would you know what the ocean smells like?”
She gives an annoyed shake of her head, still not looking at me. “You smell how I imagine it, then. Happy?”
“Not in recent memory,” I quip. There is something about talking to the back of her head, without having to meet the doll-round eyes that see way too fucking much for comfort. That we’re outside alone with the peace of the palace gardens under the bright sun as a backdrop only further loosens my tongue. “You smell like cherries and champagne. The whole damn apartment already reeks of it. I don’t want to think about how overpowering it’ll be if you stay here long term.”
She shifts from one foot to the other, as if fighting the urge to turn and look at me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is,” I reply without heat.
She sighs. “I didn’t come here to cause problems.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you have.” I keep my footsteps deliberately loud as I move closer, giving her the chance to shy away. She doesn’t move so much as an inch. “Our discussion isn’t finished. Logan wants you back in there.”
Her voice carries a bitter edge. “Logan doesn’t know what he wants.”
I’m too loyal to admit that I agree with her. “Doesn’t matter. Logan is a prince. Royalty always has the luxury of making demands. It’s our job to meet them.”
“Even if it’s a problem?”
“Even if,” I reply.
“I’m not the enemy, you know.” Her head tilts back ever so slightly to face the sun, violet hair tangling in the wind so that is obscures her features. She sounds exhausted and wary, as if she hasn’t slept in days and recognizes the faculties needed to protect herself are hopelessly impaired. “I have every intention of upholding my end of this deal.”
Voice soft as the wind, I press this unexpected advantage. “Tell me why you came back here. What do you want from us?”
She hesitates for long enough that I assume she won’t answer. Lips part on an exhale, making the scent of delicate fruit fizz in my nostrils.
“The palace is safe, maybe the safest place in Melilla.”
I feel an inexplicable urge to comfort her. I easily dismiss it. Her sorrow could be real, if she isn’t simply a glorious actress, but that doesn’t make this any less of a manipulation.
“What about us?” I ask.
She finally turns to face me, revealing the tracks of dried tears on her cheeks and eyes bright with the ones still unshed. “You’re the devils I know.”
Her words taste like the truth, but in a way that’s incomplete. A perfume missing its top note. “There’s more to the story than that. Tell me the real reason you came back here, the one you’re hiding. Tell me your secret.”
Maya wavers, fingers clenching and eyes squeezing shut as she wars with herself. But when those eyes the color of deadly nightshade meet mine again, the expression in them is resolute. “You first.”
“Meaning what?” I ask evasively.
“You can focus on me all you want, but we both know I’m not your biggest problem,” she declares boldly. “Something is going on between all of you, some secret pack business. I want to know what it is.”
She is smarter than she looks.
“Politics,” is the simplest and least dangerous explanation I can conjure up without outright lying. “You put your piece on the board at a very dangerous time in the game.”
Maya studies me for a long moment before nodding to herself. “I know there’s more to it than that, but I’ll take it for now.”
“Your turn.” I hold up a single finger and poke her once in forehead. “Are you here for revenge?”
She chokes out a surprised laugh. “No.”
“Are you dangerous to us in any way?”
“How could I be?” she scoffs.
“Fine.” I acknowledge that for the ridiculous premise it is. “Will you tell me where you’ve been for the last year.”
“Eventually, I will.” She licks her lips nervously, seeming surprised at her own response to the question. “Maybe I’ll be ready to do that when you’ve got more to say about whatever political game we’re playing. When we can trust each other.”
She gives me a tiny smile so genuine that it leaves a burn like acid in my chest.
Distantly, I wonder where my anger has gone. The all too familiar emotion has ebbed away like the tide. I’m not sure what to make of that. I’d planned to stomp out here and drag her back inside by her hair like the caveman.
But the absence of my comfortable rage has led to a surprising realization.
It’s obvious from the tension coiling through her body like a snake that Maya expected a fight. Probably still waiting for this interaction to turn as abruptly violent as our last one did.
The well-founded fear that adds a sour note to her otherwise glorious scent hasn’t gone away. But that hasn’t stopped her from giving me more information than she has at any other point.
A little softness and a dash of truth. Could something so simple be all that it takes to conquer her?
I thought we needed to shatter her, break that protective shell around her psyche into pieces to get at the secrets underneath. It never occurred to me there was a path that leads to her giving herself up willingly, baring her own soul like the petals of a flower furling open in the direction of whatever sunlight it can get. All it took to weaken her resistance was the smallest touch of warmth, paling in comparison to anything real.
Now I’m seeing the error of my ways.
This girl is starved. For attention. For belonging. For the safety she foolishly thinks can be found here.
Any loyalty she develops for us will be compelled by desperation. It won’t ever be real. And her allegiance won’t last because an Omega’s loyalty never does.
But fuck.
I can work with this.
“I think I can solve at least one of our problems right now,” I say.
“Which problem is that?” she asks.
“You said that you need a dress that makes a statement for the gala tonight, right?”
Maya leans back against the railing. The loose fabric of her plain shift tightens along the front of her body, highlighting curves that look good even in a completely shapeless garment. “Ideally.”
“I know where to find one.”
“The gala is only a few hours away,” she replies with an air of disbelief. “So I’ll believe this miracle when I see it.”
But she can’t hide the quick flash of relief in her gaze as she allows herself to hope. Or the gratitude that she definitely doesn’t want me to see.
I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
Eventually, she’ll figure out that no one here is ever going to save her.