Page 165 of Unhinged Omega

"Actually... I did."

The implication is clear.

Thatmonstergot her through her heat.

Mymate.

Myomega.

I take a hand through my hair, tugging at the white strands in frustration. The gesture pulls at the wounds in my back, making me wince. Not that the physical pain even registers compared to the rage burning in my chest.

She let the Knight touch her.

Let him...

A growl builds in my throat as I imagine those metal claws on her skin. Those razor-sharp teeth anywhere near her throat. Her pussy. The way she holds his damn arm, the way she caresses his skin with sincere affection. Not just to calm him down.

Like she wants him, andonlyhim.

"If you scuff my carpet, you're buying me a new one," Geo growls from his spot by the fireplace. When the fuck did he even come in? "And I have expensive taste."

I bare my teeth at him. "Fuck your carpet. And fuckyou."

"Original," he drawls. "Did you spend all these years coming up with that one? Or did it just pop into your head?"

"About as long as it took you to pick out that eyepatch," I sneer. "Though I have to say, the leather really brings out the wasteland bastard aesthetic you have going on."

Geo's remaining eye narrows dangerously. He rises from his chair with deadly grace, and for a moment, I think he's actually going to try to kill me.

Again.

"If you two are going to murder each other, kindly do it outside," Raven calls out as he breezes through the room, his arms full of... throw pillows? "I want everything perfect when my goddess wakes up, and blood issucha pain to get out of upholstery," he says with the certainty of someone who speaks from experience. Plenty of it.

I watch in disbelief as he carefully arranges the pillows on the couch. "Where the fuck did you even find those?"

"I sent someone on an emergency errand for less tacky decor," he says primly. "This place looks like a serial killer's summer home."

Geo's jaw clenches. "It looks fucking fine. It looks how I want it," he adds pointedly.

"It looks like you raided a haunted house," Raven counters, fluffing another pillow. "And not one of the good ones."

I can't help but notice the pillows are in shades of silver and violet. Like Cosima’s hair and eyes. Subtle.

"Speaking of tacky," I drawl. "You still recovering from her little burn about your place of business?"

Raven whirls on me, blue eyes flashing. "At leastI'mtrying to make her comfortable instead of keeping her locked in a tower like some discount fairy tale villain!"

"No, you're just helping your sugar daddy keep her prisoner underground," I shoot back. "Much better."

"He's not mysugardaddy. I have more money than he does."

"Debatable," Geo growls. "Would both of you just shut the fuck up before I throw you out on your asses? Some of us have actual work to do."

I laugh harshly. "Right. 'Work.' Is that what you call running this cesspool?"

Geo's hand twitches toward his gun, but Raven is at his side in an instant, his hand resting on the burly alpha's arm. "Would you please be a dear and listen out for the delivery?" he asks in a syrupy tone I know all too well, like he's the trophy wife of a mob boss. Huh… guess he kind of is. "I need to go meet with my intel about this Azarel she's looking for."

I bristle at the reminder, but keep my expression neutral. The last thing I need is Raven peppering me with questions about the guy I'm pretty fucking sure Cosima is in love with.

---