Page 14 of Gold Sector
If she were anyone else, I would growl.
But because it’s Tay, I simply smirk.
And Tay hates it when I smirk.
“Ugh, that face,” she grumbles, causing my smirk to melt into an amused grin. “What game are you playing, Rumpel?”
“It’s not a game,” I reply, ignoring the urge to curse in response to that ridiculous nickname. She learned it from my brother decades ago and uses it whenever she wants to goad me.
“Then why are you volunteering to be an Omega’s guardian?” she demands, her hands on her slender hips. “You’ve never taken an interest in any of our other intake cases, including the ones you brought to me yourself. So why this one?”
My jaw ticks.
I can’t answer that question because I don’t know the answer to it. So all I can say is “It’s my prerogative as Prince of Gold Sector to take on the position of guardian whenever I want. And I don’t have to explain myself.”
Her black eyebrows jump into her matching hairline. “Seriously? You’re going to pull that royal crap on me? Right after asking me for this favor?”
“It’s not a favor so much as a directive,” I mutter, palming the back of my neck.
“Now you’re just asking me to kick your ass.”
I snort. “Like you could.”
“Oh, I could,” she says, poking me in the chest with her perfectly manicured finger. “I have before.”
“When I was drunk off of a flame ball.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Why are you giving me shit about this?”
“Because this isn’t like you at all.”
“And?” I press.
“And… and I want to know why,” she replies, shrugging. “Consider me nosy.”
I narrow my gaze. “Onyx put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“No.” She frowns. “But now I’m even more curious because that means he’s also noticed this strange behavior.”
“There is nothing strange about me wanting to protect an Omega. I’m an Alpha. It’s what Alphas do.”
“Okay, yeah,” she agrees. “But to be a guardian?”
“Are you going to help me or not?” I ask, exasperated by this ridiculous conversation. “I’m trying to help the Omega, Tay. Surely you, of all Drakonians, can appreciate that?”
Her teeth clench together audibly. “Low blow, Rumpel. Low blow.”
She’s not wrong. But I stand my ground. “Please, Tay.”
“And now you’re begging?” She shakes her head, sending her curls bouncing. “Damn, I need to meet this Omega. She’s clearly riddled with magic.”
“She might be,” I admit. “She certainly smells enchanting.”
Tay’s eyebrows jump up again, then she laughs. “Wow, how the mighty have fallen. All those poor Omegas in waiting.”
“Tay.” I can’t mask the impatience in my tone, nor do I try. I’m tired of our verbal sparring. “There’s an Omega in the other room who is currently cowering under my cloak because she thought this evaluation included a knotting test.”
My best friend winces. “Ouch.”
“For you, maybe.”
