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"The nest has to be perfect," she says, but there's something in her voice, something she's not saying. "Absolutely perfect."

"You're being weird," I tell her, because she is. Even for Juniper, she's being weird.

"I'm always weird," she counters, but she won't meet my eyes.

"Weirder than usual."

Archer appears with what looks like an entire rainbow of throw blankets. "I couldn't decide which color, so I got all of them."

"That's the spirit!" Juniper chirps, but again, there's that edge. That something.

Carlisle glides over with a basket full of items that definitely aren't nesting supplies. "Juniper, darling, I found these lovely silk restraints in the?—"

"Not now," she says quickly, shooting him a look that could melt steel. "Later. After."

After what?

The alphas exchange glances over my head, the kind of meaningful looks that used to make my hackles rise. Used to make me reach for weapons, plan escape routes, prepare for betrayal. But now it just makes me... curious. These idiots couldn't plan a surprise party without someone spoiling it within five minutes, so whatever they're up to can't be that serious.

"We should get going," Bane says, checking his phone with forced and suspicious casualness. He’s a bad actor. "Got everything we need here?"

"Yep!" Juniper says, dumping an armful of her latest haul from the nesting bins into his arms. Because apparently, one of the many uses alphas have is as living shopping carts.

"We've got one more stop," Elias interrupts, already herding us toward the checkout. "Important stop. Can't miss it."

They're all being weird. Every single one of them.

We pile into the SUV after a small fortune in nesting supplies gets loaded in the back. Juniper's practically shaking with adrenaline in her seat next to me, and the alphas keep shooting each other these obvious looks that are clearly meant to be subtle.

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" I ask, but Juniper just grabs my hand and squeezes.

"Trust me," she says, and those hazel eyes are so earnest that I just heave a sigh and nod.

The drive takes us into the artsy part of town, with all the exposed brick and indie coffee shops that charge ten dollars for an espresso with a cat printed in the foam. We pull up outside a tattoo parlor called Marked Up, according to the neon sign with the trilogy of designation symbols turned into a logo at the side. Alpha, beta and omega, all interlocking like they belong together.

And I guess I'm somewhere in the jumble.

"Are we shaking someone down?" I ask, because that would at least make sense. "Did someone not pay protection? Are we running a new kind of racket now that most of the omega traffickers in the region are dead?"

Juniper laughs, bright and genuine. "Come inside and see for yourself, grumpy."

The bell above the door chimes as we enter, and the first thing I notice is that the place is empty except for us. The second thing I notice is the omega behind the counter, and she's... not what I expected.

She's about Juniper's height but with a softer build, electric blue hair and enough piercings to set off a metal detector at fifty paces. Her arms are covered in intricate tattoos that tell stories I can't quite read, and when she smiles, I catch a glimpse ofwhat look like fucking fangs. On second glance, I realize they're pointed piercings on either side of her upper lip.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Psychos," she says with a thousand-watt grin, clearly not the least bit intimidated by the four alphas looming behind us even if she knows who they are. Then again, alphas are the ones who have to worry about them.

"Nice to see you again, kid," Bane says with a nod, looking around. "You really turned this place around."

"Took eight months and a small fortune, but I think the renos came out nice," she agrees proudly, hands on her hips as she looks around the colorful parlor with its comfortable, surprisingly luxurious furnishings, and the art on the walls that maintain an edgier feel.

"You must be Felix and Juniper," she says, blue eyes lighting up as she turns to us. "I'm Roxy."

"Nice to meet you," I say automatically, then look at Juniper. "Who's getting tattooed?"

"Me!" Juniper bounces on her toes, already heading for the chair. "I'm getting your mark!"

The words don't compute. I stare at her, then at the alphas who are all suddenly very interested in the artwork on the walls. At least until Archer's gaze lands on a nude omega and then quickly darts to his feet, his cheeks turning red.