How hard can it be to impersonate my brother and sneak myself onto the front line?
The thought sends a thrill through me, dangerous and exciting. I'm playing with fire, and I know it.
But for the first time in months, I feel like I have some control over my own destiny. The path ahead is fraught with danger, but I'm ready to face it. After all, what's life without a little risk?
32
BRYLEE
Standingin the marble foyer of my wing of the castle, wearing matching ballet flats, tights, and white dresses, Harper and I stare solemnly at each other before we slide aprons over our heads like we're donning bulletproof vests.
"Recipe book?" she asks.
"Check." I grab it off the side table and tuck it under my elbow.
"Spatula set?"
"Check." It goes into my long, wide apron pocket.
"Secret ingredient?"
"Check." I place the last item from the table into the pocket as my nerves rattle like the ball on a roulette wheel.
"Careful with that," she warns. "You don't want it to spill." Her nose crinkles as she adds, "I nearly puked the last time I added to it."
My hand goes to the apron and clutches at the sealed jar she gave me, verifying it's still upright.
"We've got this.” Harper winks at me as she hands me a set of car keys, which I also slide into the apron.
My throat goes dry. "Remember. Blame me."
"I will do no such thing. Accidents happen."
I rub my lips together nervously and nod. "Okay. Okay."
Once I do this, there's no going back.
I'll be on the battlefield. At the front lines.
But if my men and I die, at least we'll die together.
At this point, that's all I want.
To be with them until the end. To be with thematthe end. Whenever the end might be, I want us to be together.
That truth thrums beneath my skin, as ever present and inevitable as gravity.
Inhaling, I brace myself.
Harper's head has gone in an entirely different direction because she smacks her lips together and says, "I feel like we should do aCharlie's Angelspose."
Instantly, her fingers rise, and her hip cocks to one side. Her brow waggle and flirty confidence elicit a shaky laugh from me as I mimic her, though my heart is racing a mile a minute.
"Look at us being sneaky omega badasses," she purrs with pride.
And then, unexpectedly, with a single motion that takes me by complete surprise, she swoops in to give me a long, firm hug. Her hands squeeze tight, and the jar in my hands gets squishedup under my ribs, but the discomfort is secondary to the warmth spreading through my center.
When I started at Darling, I didn't expect to find a friend at all. Instead, I found a beautifully loyal soul whose energy matches my own.
