Page 185 of Juliet & Her Romeos

“Amby,” I whisper, before Swan squeezes my hand in warning.

Ambrose glances around but he’s looking at Benedict.

Benedict drops my hand and signs something.

My eyes widen.

What did that mean?

Is it a secret message? Their way of tricking Olivia?

Immediately, Ambrose’s expression shutters, and he turns back to face Olivia.

I don’t miss the way that he slips his hand to Vito’s thigh and taps something.

This time, I can tell by the rhythm that it’s Morse code.

Shit, these guys truly did get prepared last night, while I was grieving with Swan.

Did Benedict just pass on our decision to take whatever Olivia does to us in order to throw her off our scent, and byletting her think that she’s in control, actually destroy her once and for all?

“Why did you take so long to get them, bad Omega?” Olivia’s frosty voice makes Benedict flinch. Hell, it’s harder than I thought not to speak up. I bite my cheek — hard. “Are you lazy or just dumb? I don’t know why you saddled yourself with such a pretty but defective Rej, Ambrose. Could you have gone any slower, Omega?”

Swan shakes his head at me.

This is a test.

The thought slams through me.

I meet Olivia’s eye.

Her gaze is glittering with dark amusement.

Vito and Ambrose’s shoulders are stiff with tension. I can see how close they’re kneeling; their thighs are touching.

It’s to give each other strength. Not reacting is a thousand times harder than jumping up and protecting their pack.

Olivia knows how to hurt us.

Confused, Benedict blinks. “Yes, I could have gone slower. Did you want me to?”

Olivia laughs, meanly. “Dumb it is.”

Laurent’s expression becomes tight. “Mom, one of my clips has fallen out.”

Olivia coos, but it’s the least maternal thing that I’ve ever heard.

She snatches Laurent by the hair and yanks him painfully toward her; he hisses. “Has it? Poor, dear. Let me see.”

He’s trying to distract Olivia’s attention onto himself.

Grateful, I pull Benedict after me toward the fireplace. Swan prowls after me, standing protectively in front of us.

Olivia makes a show of adjusting Laurent’s clips but with enough force that I know it’s a punishment.

She pretends that it’s not, and so does Laurent, who acts unaffected.

“Thank you, Mom,” Laurent finally says, as she pets his head gently like a moment ago she wasn’t dragging her nails along his scalp.

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