Page 173 of Psycho Pack

"Leather would be good," Whiskey adds. "Do you even have that shit here?"

The attendant's smile falters behind her veil. "We have everything you could possibly imagine," she croaks.

"Great," says Whiskey, heading in already.

As we move through the shop, I can't help but run my fingers over the fabrics we pass. Silks so fine they feel like water. Velvets so plush, I want to bury my face in them. My omega instincts are kicking into overdrive, and I'm not even in heat right now.

The attendant leads us to a more secluded area of the shop, separated by gauzy curtains. "Perhaps we could start with some options for the gentlemen?" she suggests, gesturing to a rack of clothing.

Whiskey grins, elbowing Plague. "That black dress with the feathers on the shoulders would look nice on you."

I bite my lip to keep from laughing as Plague's face flushes red. His eyes narrow dangerously like he's about to throttle Whiskey. "Shut the fuck up."

"Aw, come on," Whiskey teases. "It'd go with your whole bird getup."

"It's not a bird," Plague grits out. "It's a plague doctor. That's why my name is Plague."

Whiskey cocks his head. "Sorry, uh, what's aplague doctor?"

Plague stares at him for a second before waving him off. "Never mind," he mutters, walking further into the shop as Whiskey follows him like an overgrown golden retriever, trying in vain to get him to explain.

I trail my fingers over a rack of shimmering fabrics, marveling at how they seem to change color with every movement. The silks and velvets are so fine, so delicate. Nothing like the coarse, practical clothes I'm used to.

Part of me still can't believe this is real.

"What about this one?" Whiskey holds up a gauzy white dress that leaves little to the imagination. He's apparently given up on learning about plague doctors today.

I roll my eyes, fighting back a smile. "I don't think that'll help us blend in at a high-class party."

"Who says we're trying to blend in?" Valek purrs, appearing at my elbow with a leather corset that makes my eyes widen. "I say we make an entrance they'll never forget."

Thane pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. "The point is tonotdraw attention to ourselves. We're trying to infiltrate, not start a riot."

"You're never any fun," Valek mutters, but he puts the corset back with a dramatic sigh.

As we move deeper into the shop, the reality of our situation starts to sink in. We're not just shopping for fun. We're preparing for a dangerous mission. The weight of it settles in my chest, a strange contrast to the lightness I've been feeling today.

"We need to decide on our approach," Thane says, his deep voice cutting through my thoughts. "Given the nature of the Alpha's Alpha, our best bet is to play into their expectations. Ivy will pose as the omega of a powerful pack. It'll give us the access we need without raising suspicion."

My stomach does a little flip at his words. It's not far from the truth, really, but the idea of deliberately putting myself on display makes me nervous. I've spent so long trying to stay hidden, to blend into the background.

Now I'll be at the center of attention.

And I'll be surrounded by alphas.

Like a piece of meat walking willingly into the lion's den.

"You okay with that, wildcat?" Whiskey asks, his usual teasing tone softened.

"I can handle it," I mutter. "Besides, it's not like I'll be alone, right?"

The low growl that rumbles through all five alphas makes me feel a little bit better about the situation right away.

"We'll be right there with you," Thane says, his dark eyes intense. "Every step of the way."

"No one will lay a finger on you," Valek adds.

Wraith nods in silent agreement. The way he shifts closer, his massive frame radiating aggressively protective energy, says more than words ever could.

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