Page 114 of Psycho Alphas: Part Two
As free as anyone could be after stepping foot in these circles.
Ace, clearly believing he had the upper hand, dismissed himself before Bella could say anything else, tugging Thistle along with him as he stepped toward the table.
And because it was Ace, before anyone could stop him, he strode to the empty seat at the end of the table and guided Thistle onto his lap.
Right into Carrion’s empty chair.
The final, tense silence of our entrance was broken by Rogue, who let out what had to be the most genuine bark of a laugh I’d ever heard from him. There was, perhaps, the edge of mania in it too, as if the little voice in his head was screaming the same thing mine was: Ace was going to get us killed.
But when even Bella couldn’t seem to find the words to protest, Rogue coiled my chain in his fist. Without a care for the stares of the whole room, he followed, grabbing an empty chairfrom around the corner near where Ace had sat, dragging it a few feet to his left, and slumping down as well.
THISTLE
The bites across my body sparked to life with every movement, reminding me how perfect tonight was.
Our god Alpha hadn’t just shown the world we were his—we’re on his lap, Bunny!
And his hand lingered on my arm, absently running over the bites he’d left.
I know the others were stressed, but Ace had tonight all planned out. A few of the guests came over, flitting by us one by one to welcome Ace. People he knew from before—and with each, I could practically see Bella’s stupid expression get tighter, like someone jammed another Sour Patch Kid into her mouth.
I watched her again as another visitor leaned down, and Ace muttered something into his ear that even I couldn’t hear. The man stood, a stiff humour on his face, eyebrows raised.
Another Sour Patch Kid dropped.
Dumb bitch.
That was my god Alpha, doing what he did best just like he used to. But now the whole world knew the truth at last—that I was his Queen.
Bella would pay, and I would get Knox by the stroke of midnight.
This was going to be the best night ever.
THIRTY
KNOX
Bella, clearly trying to act as though Ace’s entrance didn’t faze her, had begun the night’s events. When I hosted, I did the bare minimum. I didn’t put on a show—unless you counted what I did to any guest who tried to sneak into the rest of my home. Bella always went over the top.
A projector showed a video across one wall—a live feed from what I knew to be one of her secondary properties. It showed two feral Alphas in a cage, fighting to the death. A few of the guests were already taking bets, plucking drinks from trays held by the silent servers who had entered. All were beautiful, silent Omegas wearing simple, modest white dresses with long sleeves and high necks as they brought over drinks and snacks. This was where Bella pushed the rules.
A nearby Alpha removed the ribbon from his silver case and opened it. From within, he drew out a pen. They all had thick nibs, and each pack had a different colour. I watched as Thistle’s gaze snagged on it. She frowned, then pried open ours.
My attention was dragged from her as Rogue spoke. “So, how are we going to do this tonight?” he asked from where he sat, barely sparing me a glance.
I refrained from rolling my eyes but didn’t answer.
Was this not enough already? He still had my chain in his fist.
“How many nights did you make me sleep in that thing?” Rogue asked, glancing up at the muzzle, eyes sparkling with vengeful satisfaction. “How many events did you drag me to?” He wasn’t bothering to keep his voice all that low. He didn’t need to. This part of the night—it wasn’t an act for him.
“Do you remember what you made me do at the Finches’ party a year back?” he prodded. I went stiff. “Or the one you hosted in January with the steak knives?”
I didn’t reply, mind cycling through memories that had—until this particular second of my life—been rather amusing.
“How about I let you pick?” Rogue asked.
I couldn’t help looking at Thistle, who had uncapped the blood-red pen and was leaning up to whisper something to Ace.
