Page 202 of Psycho Pack

Before she can reply, Whiskey chimes in with his usual misplaced confidence. "Nah, bro, it's Cosmo."

The omega's head snaps up, violet eyes flashing. "It'sCosima, you buffoon!" she hisses, her vague accent thickening. "Cos-ih-muh. Say it right."

"That's not a Vrissian name," Valek muses, confirming he picked up on her faint accent, too.

Cosima's lips curl into a sneer. "Vlytek vakh myv vakrav vodznyc," she spits.

Whiskey blinks, glancing between her and Valek. "What'd she say?"

A low chuckle escapes Valek. "Nothing I can repeat in front of the lady," he says, nodding toward me.

I roll my eyes, drawing my Surhiiran glass dagger from its hiding place. The blade gleams in the low light as I stalk forward. Cosima shrinks slightly back against the wall, but her glare never wavers.

"We don't have time for this," I mutter. The adrenaline from our escape is fading, leaving me raw and on edge. "What's a Vrissian princess like you doing with a Council beta?"

She hesitates, jaw clenching. "My mother is Vrissian," she finally says through her teeth.

"And your father?" Thane presses.

Another pause. Her fingers twist in the silky fabric of her robe. "He's a merchant."

Thane's eyes narrow. "I want a name."

I wiggle the knife in the air, a gentle reminder. Cosima's gaze flicks to the blade, then back to me. For a moment, I think she might lunge. But then her shoulders slump slightly.

"Arthur Maybrecht," she says, the name falling from her lips like a curse.

The silence that follows is deafening. I watch as recognition dawns on the alphas' faces.

"Well, well," Valek drawls. "This is an interesting development."

I glance between them. "Who is that?"

Plague's voice is tight when he answers. "An incredibly wealthy financier. He made his fortune sending out raiding parties to hoard medical supplies immediately after the first bombs, then cornering the market in the aftermath."

"Merchant, my ass," Whiskey scoffs, folding his arms over his broad chest. "He's one of the rich cocksuckers who bankrolls Thane's daddy. And other powerful assholes throughout Reinmich."

"Thought I told you to stop calling him that," Thane says flatly, shifting uncomfortably. But I can see the gears turning. Every mention of his father seems like a dagger going into his back.

Wraith's, too.

Cosima's eyes widen slightly as her attention fixes on Thane. "You'reGeneral Hargrove's son?" A bemused laugh escapes her. "The one who ripped out his commanding officer's skeleton?"

"His spine," Whiskey corrects her. "But he's the guy."

That earns another glare from Thane.

Cosima tilts her head, her eyes raking appraisingly over Thane's massive frame. "Hmm. I thought you'd be… taller."

Thane bristles. "I'm six foot eight," he says incredulously.

It's obvious the omega is just trying to get under our skin.

And it's working.

Alphas are so fucking predictable.

I turn back to Cosima. "What were you doing at the Alpha's Alpha?" I demand before another pissing match unfolds. "Why were you with Monty?"

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