Page 137 of Psycho Pack

I bark a laugh, the sound bouncing off the pristine walls. "And what would you know about being broken, my feathered friend?"

She spreads her wings, and for a moment, I see the fracture lines running through her ethereal form. Like stained glass pieced back together with threads of gold.

"More than you might think,"she replies.

Maybe I'm still higher than I thought.

Or maybe I'm finally going properly mad.

I open my mouth to ask another question, but the bird is already gone. The temple is empty except for a young attendant across the room, lighting candles with practiced grace on an elaborate marble altar. Her veil shifts as she glances at me, wariness evident in her posture. I study her for a moment, amused by how she tries to hide her fear.

Smart girl.

Most people's instincts about me are correct.

"I have some questions," I say smoothly. "About this place."

My head still feels fuzzy around the edges, but I need to know more about where we've landed.

She hesitates, glancing toward the door like she's hoping someone will come rescue her from this conversation. But no one appears, so she inclines her head slightly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I will try to answer what I can."

"What is this place like?" I gesture vaguely at our pristine surroundings. "Reallylike. Not the shiny surface everyone sees."

"I... I'm not sure what you mean."

"Yes, you do." I drift closer, noting how she tenses but doesn't back away. Interesting. These people have spine beneath all their ethereal grace. "The perfect white walls. The gilded everything. The way everyone floats around like they're above the rest of the world's problems. Are they? Or is there more to it?"

She studies me for a long moment, head tilted. The beads on her veil chime softly with the motion. "We are... different," she says finally. "But not in the way outsiders think. We don't hidefrom the world's problems. We simply choose to face them in our own way."

"And what way is that?"

"Through beauty. Through preservation of knowledge. Through maintaining what was lost when others chose destruction." Her voice grows stronger as she speaks, pride evident in her tone. "We remember what the world was like before. And we keep those memories alive."

I drift over to one of the low tables, running my fingers along the intricate filigree. The metal is warm beneath my touch, like it's alive. "And the omegas? I've heard they're treated differently here."

Her smile is clear through her veil. "They are sacred to us. Blessed by the Goddess herself." She gestures to the mosaic where the bird stood moments ago, though she shows no sign of having seen what I saw. "They are the heart of our society. The keepers of our oldest traditions."

"Not property then?"

The words come out sharper than I intended.

"Property?" She sounds genuinely horrified. "No. Never. Omegas are treasured. Protected. But free to choose their own paths. Rules are more rigid for alphas, though that has changed recently under the queen's decree. She is an omega herself."

The drugs must still be affecting me more than I thought, because I find myself considering possibilities I've never allowed before.

A place where Ivy would be safe.

Truly safe.

"And if someone wanted to stay?" I ask carefully. "Someone from... outside?"

"You mean your omega?" Her voice is gentle, knowing. When I snap my head up to look at her, she just shrugs. "We have eyes.We see how you all orbit around her. How fiercely you protect her."

"She's not mine anymore," I mutter. "I fucked that up spectacularly."

"Did you?" She moves to light another candle, her movements precise and graceful. "She held your hand earlier. Offered comfort when you were in pain. That does not seem like someone who has given up on you entirely."

I bare my teeth in what might be a smile or a snarl. "You're more observant than you let on, but you're wrong. Ivy does not want me. She was simply showing me mercy. You have your goddess and I have mine."