Page 59 of Vicious Kings
"How refreshingly honest." He returns to his seat and sinks into it with that same easy grace. "Most omegas would kill for such an offer."
"I'm not most omegas."
"No," he agrees thoughtfully. "You certainly aren't."
I've fucked up. I've completely, utterly fucked up. He's offering me exactly what I need—proximity, access, and plenty of chances to learn his patterns—and I'm throwing it away because my pride won't let me bow to the bastard who destroyed everything.
"I should go," I say, because if I stay here another second, I'm going to do something spectacularly stupid but satisfying. Like try to strangle him with my bare hands.
"So soon?" Tallon stands with me, and he looks genuinely disappointed. "The party's just getting started."
"I need to find my friend." It's a weak excuse, considering I'm pretty sure Olivia doesn't want to be found, but it's all I've got. And now that I'm standing, I'm just close enough to swipe that letter opener and stash it in the pocket of my skirt without any of them noticing.
"The pink omega?" Locke's voice is flat, unimpressed. "Everen has her well entertained."
Clearly he's been watching our every move, despite the disaffected routine.
"Then I need air." I move toward the stairs before any of them can stop me. "Thank you for the... offer, Your Highness. I'm sure you'll find someone more suitable."
I don't wait for a response, just flee down those ridiculous floating stairs like my life depends on it. And considering how close I am to attempting to behead the prince with a letter opener, it probably does. My heels click against the dragon glass, each step a reminder of how badly I've fucked this up.
I'm a hunter, not a spy.
I was trained to kill, not to seduce and manipulate. The Shepherd should have known this would happen. Should have known I couldn't stomach playing nice with my mother's murderer long enough to get close.
But that doesn't mean the mission is over.
The shimmer. Olivia said it collapses after a set time. If I could find a way to accelerate that collapse, to trap them all inside when it goes...
The thought takes root, spreading through my mind like poison. It wouldn't be clean or honorable, but when has anything about this been honorable? They'd all die when the pocket dimension imploded. Every Fae here, including the precious Prince and his bonded pack.
I scan the crowd, looking for Olivia's unmistakable pink cotton candy cloud of a dress. She's by the bar, laughing at something Everen is saying, looking more relaxed than I've ever seen her. Fuck. I can't leave her here to die. It's my fault she's here in the first place.
As I weave through the crowd, I study the architecture, looking for weak points. The whole space hums with magic,reality bent and twisted to create this impossible paradise. There—near the windows. The magic feels thinner there, like fabric worn too bare. If I could just disrupt it somehow...
"Billie!" Olivia's voice is bright with champagne. "Where have you been?"
"Around." I grab her arm, trying to look casual as I lead her away from the semi-immortal thirst trap. "We need to go."
"What? No!" She yanks away, pouting. "Everen was just telling me about his travels through the Shadow Courts."
The shifter watches me with amber eyes far too alert. "Leaving already?"
"Billie's just tired," Olivia says, waving her hand dismissively. "She can go. I'll find my own way back."
"You don't even know where we are," I hiss.
"I don't care." She turns back to Everen with a smile that makes me want to shake some sense into her.
Fine. If she wants to play difficult, I'll just have to give her a reason to leave.
"I was just offered the position of Prince Corvinus's personal pet," I say, loud enough for several nearby Fae to hear. "Turned him down flat."
Olivia's champagne glass shatters on the floor.
"YouWHAT?" Her shriek probably registers on the Richter scale. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Probably."
