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I give him a warning look, which he laughs at. He taps his temple. “I know what you’ve been thinking over here in the dark, you pervert.”

I growl in my mind, something I’ve perfected over the years just for this asshole.

He laughs at me. Nothing new.

“Look,” he says, sobering just a bit, “our time’s almost up. We might as well go out with a bang.”

“Speak any louder, Colton, and the entire academy will hear you.”

And there’s the other one.

I look over Colt’s shoulder to find Rai, his snow white hair a mass of disheveled elegance, the ends falling beautifully over his black blindfold. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s hot,” Colt offers, unhelpful as usual.

I roll my eyes and turn back to her as she follows Andrew Laurant up the stairs.

“Hot” doesn’t begin to describe her, and I wish for the first time in many years that I could communicate directly with Rai.

Colt sighs with impatience. “Go on. I won’t editorialize, I promise.”

I look back at him, doubtful.

“I promise,” he reiterates, more sober this time, his hand rising in promise. “You’re always better with words anyway.”

I nearly snort, but instead, acquiesce.

As I sign, Colt translates for Rai in a quiet, almost reverent tone. He keeps his word and doesn’t add commentary.

“Her hair is flowing waves of ebony down to her hips, her eyes are silvery ice. She’s petite with curves you should be glad you can’t see. They’d compel you to do forbidden things.”

Rai lets out a slow sigh and keeps his voice just above a whisper. “It doesn’t matter if I can’t see her. I smell her. I can follow that flowery combination of rose and myrrh anywhere.”

“Totally,” Colt nods, his brows raised, his voice equally low. “Dude, I was all the way in fucking Training Ground Seven and made a mad dash here the moment I caught a whiff of her.”

I frown again.It doesn’t matter,I sign.

Colt lets out a loud “Ha!” and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, huh? Let’s see how long you keep thinking that.”

“This has to mean something. Right?” Rai’s soft voice carries in the otherwise quiet alcove. “I’ve never scented an Omega like this before. Have either of you?” His covered gaze flits back and forth between Colt and me in that unsettling way of his. He can’t see us, but like the new girl, he’s able to scent us above all the other scents around.

It’s always been that way. It’s probably the only reason we’re friends.

But I watch Colt frown, his brows drawn in thought, and I know that like Rai and me, he’s never scented an Omega like this either.

Meaning is meaningless in a hellhole like this, though. If these bastards discovered something was going on, that one of us, not to mention three Cursed Alphas, were drawn to a Cursed Omega, they’d kill us all.

Miranda

“Thisistheinfirmary.”Nyx gestures to the open doorway beside her. “Remember what I said,” she whispers as I pass.

There’s no way that I would forget her instructions.

“Doctor Gayle!” she calls as she takes the lead.

The room looks like an ordinary hospital ward, far separated from the ancient stone and wood where we just came from. White floors, pale blue walls, about six beds with drawn curtains in dark blue. In the back of the room is a desk where a woman sits, her attention on her computer monitor. Her hair, nearly all gray, is pulled up high on the back of her head, and her dark blue eyes peer around the side of the screen before she smiles kindly at Nyx.

“Nyxeris!” The doctor rises from her chair, and a strong floral scent floats my way. This is an Omega, but her lack of collar indicates she’s not Cursed. When she turns her smile to me, her head inclines. “I’m Gayle Jónsdóttir, the nurse in this facility. You must be Miranda Amato.”