Quinn held a meeting.
A pack meeting.
She reached into the bond and pulled.
Come home, she commanded, allowing the emotions to thread through her chest, cold and furious. Come home. Now. She paced as she waited, fingers clenched into tight, angry fists. The rage burned hot and restless under her skin. Her mind was a mess. A horrible, terrible chaos.
She was just so angry, so, so fucking angry. She did not come back to this life for this. She refused to be held responsible for their mistakes, refused to be disrespected, blamed for everything again. She deserved better; she deserved more.
And this?
This was a fucking train wreck waiting to explode.
She could almost picture it. Elysian dying, all eyes on her. Ink pouring from their tongues, eyes wet with tears. Quinn, save me. Quinn, please. Quinn, why didn't you try—She growled, stifled a roar. The blame game. Trauma roared through her veins, had ice flowing down her spine. No. It was not going to be her fault, and they needed to know that.
They fucking had to.
It was almost unsettling how easy it was to summon them, how quickly the six Omegas answered her command. Mere minutes later and they stood in a loose circle around her, chests heaving, sweat still beading on their brows, flushed from her authority. They had abandoned everything — work, schedules and meetings. At least, she could be thankful for that.
This was her first true Alpha command.
Zen was wide-eyed and frozen, hands behind his back, clasped tightly as if he feared they might shake. Rowan couldn't keep still, shifting from one foot to the other, restless and unsettled, scent sharp with his anxiety. Solar seemed pale, drawn tightly into himself, hands clenched at his sides.
Helios worried the edge of his sleeve again and again, eyes flickering to her, teeth on his lower lip. Icarus stood slouched and trying to seem grounded, a lazy hunch to his back. But he was turning a wrench over and over, grounding himself through the motion. And Klaus watched her steadily, sharp-eyed as if he already understood the gravity of the situation.
Elysian was in their room. Asleep, safe and undisturbed. She made sure of that, had checked with a hand on his cheek. Go to sleep, Omega. She'd soothed. Tension pulsed thickly in the air.
The power she had over them was almost a little addicting.
"You know I'm angry," Quinn said absentmindedly, tasting the worry that twisted through their scent. She didn't need to speak for fear to roar through the air, settling over her shoulders, clamped around her throat. And she answered it with the hot, spicy steam of her rage.
They exchanged glances, and Solar seemed to take the lead then with a wince. "We can—"
"Feel it?" she cut in.
"Smell it," Icarus answered under his breath.
She snorted.
"Are you okay?" Helios asked, eyes darting to the bandage on her head. Solar had cauterised most of the wound with his magic, but he insisted on applying a salve. He'd fussed for an hour over her injuries.
"I'm fine," she said, a moment of gentleness before vexation clipped her tone. "But no."
She drummed her fingers against her arm, irritation bleeding into every move. At the very least, they had the sense to stay quiet. It calmed her Alpha, had her purring in appreciation. But they had to be reprimanded. She lifted her gaze, pinning them in place.
"Do you have any idea," she asked quietly, "what you all did to him?"
No one spoke.
"To all of us?" she continued, voice dropping even lower. The bond thrummed in her chest, aching and furious. She spun then, voice sharpening into a snap. "I found him stumbling in the woods." Her lip curled. "In pain." Her glare deepened. "Fucking depressed."
Zen sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"
"If the child did not exist, he would have transformed," she said coldly. "He's one outburst away from becoming Lonely. The baby is the only reason that he's alive."
Klaus exhaled slowly. "We know that—"
"No," she snapped. "You don't. You really fucking don't." She ran fingers through her hair. Hands trembling, she glared daggers at them all. Fools. "It's not just my fault."
Zen soothed, automatically attempting to defuse the situation. "Of course it isn't—"
"It's also yours," she exclaimed, anger rumbling through her. "All six of you. The loneliness is not just because of me. It's a pack disease. Sure, one broken bond fucks it all up, but we have to be careful together." She snarled. "Elysian was filled with ink. He was like a fucking bomb ready to explode. And he would have. He could have. The use of a child to stop the transformation is merely a theory, not a proven fact."
She took a step forward. Instinctively, they winced.
"There are six of you," she snarled. "Six omegas who are supposed to support him. He's pregnant for fuck's sake." She shook her head, mind jumping to the look in Elysian's eyes. The utter despair. "And somehow, he believed that he was all alone."
"Quinn—"
"I know it was partly because of me," she snapped, aura flaring, her Alpha roaring within her. She could feel the beast twisting within her chest. "I know that. But I am not going to shoulder the sole burden of fixing everything. I am not going to carry this alone. I am not going to be your saviour again." She growled. "You know why? Because I am not the only one responsible for this mess. We all are." Her gaze burned. "We're supposed to be a team. A pack."
Her hands curled into fists.
"That kind of damage to his body doesn't happen overnight. That kind of ink can only exist because he doesn't feel supported by you." She jabbed a finger at them all, then pointed towards the bedroom, to Elysian who now slept quietly. "The child is literally the only thing keeping us alive. Do you understand how dangerous that is?" She let out a huff of exasperation, paced the room. "We could have died. We should have died."
They didn't speak. Couldn't speak. The bond crackled. Submission, guilt and fear rolled off them in waves. They stared at her, horror in their eyes, cheeks all pale. She sneered.
"This ends now," Quinn said. "No more excuses. No more pretending it'll sort itself out. It won't. And I'm not going to be the only one doing everything I can to keep us all alive. I refuse to." She was panting from the exertion, words flying from her lips. "I refuse to be made the fucking scapegoat. I refuse to live this life begging. I've already died once, and I'm telling you now. I'll play my part. I'll try for the innocent baby who does not deserve any of this. But that's it. That's fucking it. I'm not going to try to save a shitty bond that's already all fucked up. If this life is going to be a short one, then so be it. I'll leave first, I swear I will."
Her glare swept over them slowly, catching their gaze one by one. The silence pulsed. She watched them swallow hard, gulped as if nervous. Lips licked, eyes shifting. She sighed.
Fuck.
Icarus stepped forward, lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed. "Quinn, we just didn't know—" He stopped himself then, seemed to search for the right words. She glared. Don't fucking test me. He gave up. "We're sorry."
Good.
She offered a smile.
"I just need you all to show up," she ordered slowly. "I need you all to try harder. You cannot let him feel small or unwanted or alone ever again." Her voice dropped to a growl. "You need to do better. For everyone. Because God help me if you don't, I might actually kill you." The threat sat heavy and absolute.
She exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. "You're mates for fuck's sake. You're supposed to love each other!" Quinn stormed outside then, a glare thrown their way. "Do better."
She slammed the door shut.
*
Elysian was hungry for her blood.
She knew it with an almost instinctive certainty as his pack Alpha. She could feel the yearning in his bond, the stinging empty ache in his belly. But he did not hunt her down like an animal. He didn't stalk her, didn't lose himself like a feral vampire. Instead, he hovered, lingering in doorways, pausing just a beat too long to stare at her with eyes that seemed too bright for the light of their house.
She offered her blood.
He refused as always. He had plenty, he'd explained. He drank from his mates in the morning and at night, and he could go to the hospital for an extra packet if he needed a quick hit. He insisted that she was weak and needed to recover.
But he drew her into conversation desperately the moment he could.
"What was it like?" he asked gently. "Your home."
She told him everything. About her work, the endless grind, the pressure she carried until she was all hollowed out and beaten down by her superiors. About the drinks she ordered after long nights, the food that made her forget about how hard her life was, the places she'd go just to feel something. She talked about her city that was always too loud, too crowded, too grey.
She noticed everything then. The way his pupils dilated when she laughed, how his lips parted, his body drawn to her movements. Gratitude poured from him in waves, thick in the air. And he was reverent, stared at her like she was everything and more. She knew he was grateful for her talk with the others. But she scratched at her cheek, unsettled by the intensity of his gaze.
He looked a little crazy.
But at least the others were trying.
After the confrontation, they'd retreated to their room together. She'd heard muffled sobs through the walls, raw and broken, and had deliberately stood waiting with her heart in her throat. She'd step in if they fought. But had stood frozen when moans spilled through the walls, cheeks hot. The desperate whines of pleasure had her pulse racing. Of course, they'd fuck like rabbits.
She stayed for a bit too long before she slipped back to her room, the space between her thighs aching and wet, belly hot. She was fucking thankful that she'd mastered the art of privacy in their mating bond, and could shut them out when she wanted to. She'd physically combust if they had felt her presence.
But in the morning, everything seemed fragile.
She waved awkwardly, waited for cold shoulders and strange smiles. But Helios and Zen rushed to her without hesitation, arms wrapping around her shoulders. Morning hugs, they'd declared with the biggest smiles. Rowan stole a quick peck to her cheek, had laughed when she'd lightly batted him away with a feigned scowl.
Icarus and Solar offered quiet waves. The latter had greeted her kindly, demanding to check her wounds. And Klaus paused long enough at the door to meet her eyes, to acknowledge her presence with a smile before leaving for work.
At least it was something.
Now she stood in the kitchen with Elysian, helping to prepare dinner. The vegetables were vacuum-sealed, required rehydration, lifeless until she dropped them into a bowl of water. She chopped slowly. The food was soggy, the meat came from expired cans, and she grimaced. Elysian said it'd taste better, seasoned and salted.
She doubted it.
The smell was awful.
"Do you miss it?" Elysian asked, hands in a bowl of flour. He dusted them off. "Your city?"
She shook her head. "Not really. I worked myself to the bone. It was a pitstop, a place for me to find…success?" She snorted then. "I just wasn't happy when I achieved it all."
"You were exploited," Elysian pointed out. "Surely, that is the reason for your unhappiness?"
"But I had enough," she explained. "Sure, I was shortchanged by those fuckers, but I could have left. By the time I was done with the job, done with climbing the corporate ladder and creating my best work, I found myself with nothing."
"Nothing?" Elysian smiled. "Float is not nothing."
"It was an empty life." She shook her head. "I had no friends. No parents. No lovers. No passion. No purpose. No family." She listed with a sigh. "It was a shitty way to live. To chase your dreams and forget about what else matters." Pain pulsed in her throat then and she swallowed. "To live without love—" She paused, deciding to change the subject. "But the city was safe."
Elysian hummed. "You didn't have wars or beasts."
"Yeah," she shrugged. "But there are always monsters," she pointed out. "People. People can be the worse." She decided to drop it when his expression grew pinched, emotions in his eyes. "The food was better."
"Food?"
"Fresh," she explained with a big grin. "As much as I wanted as long as I could afford for it. And most could. There were systems to make things cheaper. We didn't have the heat waves or the blizzards, so there was plenty of places that could grow food." She pondered then, eyes on the bowl. "If I could buy you something fresh, what would you like?"
The vampire tilted his head. "Buy?"
"Float," she explained, "has the option of purchasing fresh vegetables, meat and fruit. I could get you something."
His eyes widened, then he shook his head. "It's too expensive. I've seen you counting at the table late at night—"
"You have?" she blushed then. "I didn't know you were watching."
"We took turns to watch over you," Elysian said. "Rebuilding is important, but your health is our priority." She blinked, felt warmth building in her chest. She ignored it with a shake of her head.
"But it's fine," she grinned. "I've got a budget. I've set aside gold for the important things already. But I thought I'd plan for the baby." She turned back to their shitty vegetables. "Your cravings are part of the budget, and sometimes things go on sale. It won't cost much."
His mouth parted then, lips quivered. "Really?"
"Yep."
"Peach," he said immediately. "I want fresh peach."
"You sure?" Her cheeks grew flushed then knowing exactly why he wanted that fruit. They'd always described her scent as the juiciest of peach, nectarine sweet and dripping with sugar.
"Yes," he said, nodding sweetly. But his eyes were lidded, lashes fluttering, gaze burning with heat and need. "It's my favourite thing in the entire world."
Her heart pounded, butterflies in her belly. His favourite thing in the world. Like a dumbass, the knife in her hands slipped from her grasp. "Fuck," she hissed as the blade nicked her thumb. Blood welled immediately, bright against her skin. She grabbed a tissue, blotting it quickly. "I'm an idiot."
When she turned back, Elysian had gone completely and utterly still.
His hands were lifted to his nose, trembling as if afraid to smell her scent directly. He inhaled through parted lips, lashes fluttering as if he were fighting something overwhelming, as if he were barely holding himself together. His scent spiked—sharp and violently sweet, desperation melting with need. He quivered, cheeks a violent fevered red. His pupils were blown so wide they had turned into a solid endless black.
"Elysian?"
"Oh—" The sound that slipped from his lips was small and broken. A whimper he clearly hadn't meant to let her hear. And it seemed filled with a tremble of twitching ecstasy that spoke of a pleasure he did not want to admit. He flushed deeply, stumbling back two steps, slurred as if dazed. His hands slipped over the counter as if desperate for something to hold. "S-sorry. I didn't mean—"
She studied him for a moment, heart hammering then extended her hand, blood still glistening at the cut. It shimmered like a bead, a violent ruby red. "You want to lick it?"
His eyes flew wide open, breath catching sharply in his throat.
"Don't waste it," she added.
"I—" His throat bobbed, swallowing once, twice. His eyes could not leave her fingers.
"For the baby," she reminded gently.
He took her hand.
The first touch of his tongue sent a shiver straight to her core. His touch was warm and slow, wet tongue prodding gently at the wound with careful little strokes, intimate in a way that made her breath hitch and her heart soar. It did not hurt with his mouth so flooded with his venom to numb her pain. But it did increase the sensitivity, and she stifled a gasp, body shaking, mind exploding.
She'd forgotten how good it could be to be drank from.
He made a soft, needy sound, almost a purr, savouring it, his lips closing gently around her finger with an aching sort of restraint. He sucked. A muffled groan slipped free before he could stop it. He was drinking just a little deeper now, pulling her a little closer, his breath uneven. His lips swollen, pursed and trembling.
Need coiled tight and hot in her lower belly, sharp with interest.
She was dripping.
Her pleasure spiked, clit thrummed. Scent bloomed. She was quivering, growing only wetter, flesh sticky and tacky against her panties. Nipples grazing her shirt, straining. Belly flexing for the crumbs of intimacy.
Her lips parted pathetically.
An airy moan—
Elysian jolted as if he'd shocked himself, stumbling backward with a broken gasp. "I—I need the bathroom," he blurted, voice dazed, an utter wreck. Handsome face all scrunched up from the pleasure, pink carnations on his cheeks. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, a glaze in his eyes. Pleasure was painted all over his features and she felt as if she were melting into the ground.
Gods.
She was just as breathless as he was. Her skin buzzing with heat. He just smelt so good. A unique, rich intoxicating musk that begged for her to lean in and taste him properly, she wanted to suck it all up straight from the source. Gods, she fucking needed it. She needed it right now. Wanton need quaked down her spine, yearning rippled through her and her clit pulsed once again. She squeezed her thighs shut, tried her best to stay sane.
She was so weak for his eyes.
"You sure that's enough?" she managed to choke out.
He turned without a word, fled down the hall. She stood there then alone in the kitchen, heart thundering, mind filled with the unmistakable bulge straining his pants as he disappeared into the darkness. The strain of need, the wet bloom of pleasure that seeped through the fabric. A mere drop of blood on his tongue and already he had spilled so prettily in his pants—
She quietly bandaged her hand and continued on with dinner.
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