Probably.
It's a wild, unhinged plan that directly contradicts the queen.
My finger traces the rim of my wineglass as I teeter between options.
"Brylee, don't clam up on me all of a sudden." Harper kicks out at my leg with the toe of her shoe, gently tapping me. "I know something's going on."
I nod and clear my throat before I say, "Of course. But maybe I shouldn't…"
She huffs out an angry sigh and speaks over me. "Excuse me, but I'm offended that you would even contemplate not telling me. Spill those guts, girl, or we are gonna duke it out like in our kickboxing class."
I roll my eyes. "I should never have taken you there."
"Too bad, so sad. Now I'm completely dangerous, and you'd better watch out."
"You know, that's exactly what completely dangerous people say," I retort, swallowing a laugh.
She points a manicured nail at me. "Shut your yap, or I'll go get my hot new security guard and we'll put you in your place, Princess. Now tell me why I came down here."
I take another drink to brace myself, but it does absolutely nothing because the second I speak, the trauma leaks through my vocal cords. "She sent them to the frontlines. They left this morning."
Her gasp is as stark as a spotlight on a dark stage.
In under a second, she's out of her chair and her arms are around me. My eyelids start to sting, but I've cried so much—last night, today, and there's nothing left. Just the ache that infuses every single one of my pores like a cheap perfume, the kind that smells vaguely of alcohol and rot.
With a shaky exhale, I manage to mumble, "I need to go to them."
Harper's arms fly away from my shoulders as she leans into my face, completely and utterly gobsmacked. "You want to go to the frontlines?"
"I have to. I have to be with them."
She starts to shake her head. "Brylee?—"
I set down my wineglass and clutch at her hands. "It's not just emotional. My mother is actively trying to get them killed. Shewants to get rid of my scent matches so she can choose my husbands."
Harper's lips press together, and her eyes become glossy.
She swallows hard before she shakes her head and says, "I don't want to believe it. But I do. So…what's our plan?"
My hands instantly clamp down on her fingers, though my heart leaps. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as a kick in the dick."
I laugh brokenly. "That is not a saying."
"It is. I'm making it one."
I stare up at my roommate, an omega who's somehow managed to prove her loyalty to my fractured, frazzled mind, and a swell of gratitude rises so thick and intense that I can't breathe for a second.
But once I've gotten control of myself, she seems to sense it. Harper releases my hands and resumes her seat.
She picks up her wineglass and nudges mine toward me. "So, what are we doing?"
I blow out a breath. "Well, the first thing I'm going to need is to figure out a way to get to the front."
She scoffs. "Easy peasy. The guards downstairs say they're calling up alphas at Eros early. Some big attack, or big push. You just trot over there as Teddie and tell them what's what."
My tongue traces over my top lip. "Well, about that. I don't have my bodysuit anymore."
