Page 145 of Psycho Pack
Wraith, however, remains frozen. His blue eyes dart between the faces now exposed around the table. I can see his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the crisp white uniform.
I squeeze his arm gently, trying to reassure him without drawing too much attention. His muscles tense beneath my fingers, ready to snap at any moment. I know how much he hates standing out, how desperately he wants to blend in with the others. But the thought of eating with everyone else when he's so distressed by being unmasked is clearly overwhelming him.
To my surprise, Whiskey appears to be on his best behavior. He's sitting up straight, his usual cocky grin replaced by an expression of polite interest as he listens to the queen giving orders to the attendants. It's almost unnerving to see him so... composed. I catch Plague watching him warily from across the table, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But it doesn't.
At least, not yet.
Then the heavy marble doors creak open, drawing everyone's attention.
Especially Plague's.
A tall alpha strides in, his boots clicking against the polished floor. His royal uniform matches Plague's, but he's bigger, sturdier. The resemblance to Plague is still unmistakable.
They're clearly brothers.
My alphas tense around me, hands inching toward weapons that aren't there. Even the queen holds her breath.
Then the alpha's serious expression cracks into a wide grin. He crosses the space between them in three long strides and wraps Plague in a crushing embrace. "Welcome home."
Plague returns the hug with equal force, and something in my chest aches at the raw emotion on his usually guarded face.
"Starting to feel real left out here." Whiskey leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Guess we're the only alphas without any bros, huh, Val?"
Valek's lips curl into that dangerous smile of his. "Speak for yourself." He reaches over and runs his fingers down Wraith's arm like he's petting a giant cat.
I brace myself for Wraith to clobber him. Wraith hates being touched without permission. But he only shoots Valek an irritated look and shifts away.
The lack of bloodshed almost catches me off guard.
When did that happen?
"Everyone," Plague straightens his jacket, composing himself. "This is my eldest brother, Prince Revi."
We all rise and bow, even Whiskey managing a proper show of respect. I keep my eyes lowered, hyper-aware of the proper etiquette drilled into me at the Center even though it doesn't come naturally at all.
"Please, there's no need for such formality." Revi's voice carries the same cultured accent as his brother's. "Any pack that's kept my troublesome little brother alive this long is practically family."
"Troublesome?" Plague arches an eyebrow. "I seem to recall you were the one who fucked—" He freezes as the queen gives him a surprised stare. Guess he's been a Ghost and not a prince for a little too long. "I mean,messed everything up all the time."
There's a moment of awkward silence.
But it's Whiskey, of course, who breaks it.
"Nice to meet you, Your Royal Highness," he says to Revi, and I brace myself for whatever inappropriate comment is about to follow. But to my shock, Whiskey just grins and adds, "Thanks for having us. Place is fancy as fuck."
I wince at the curse, but Revi surprises me by laughing. It's a warm, rich sound. "I'm glad you approve," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Though I must warn you, the 'fancy as fuck' only gets worse from here."
Whiskey's grin widens. "Bring it on. I could get used to this shit."
Plague looks mortified, but Revi just chuckles. If the queen is shocked, she doesn't show it.
"When the guards told us you had boarded the supply train, I thought it was a cruel joke," Revi murmurs, turning back to Plague. He looks at his brother like he's seeing a ghost. A literal one. "And yet here you are. I came as soon as I got word."
"It's good to see you again, brother," Plague says sincerely, but I don't miss the hint of guilt in his voice.
Or the hesitation.