Running.
This time Quinn felt awful for running. Like some kind of fucked-up Cinderella, already regret burned in her mind when she stepped out from the back door. Two steps. Three. And she backtracked, her eyes pressed to the sway of the trees, to escape. But it was not truly escape that she needed, pressing a shaking hand to her lips, her thoughts in disarray. Fresh air slapping her befuddled senses, sobering her up almost immediately. Float beeped, offering to tally her alcoholic score, and to that she raised a finger in the air.
Fuck alcohol.
Her heart was still pounding, cheeks still flushed, lips all swollen. She hated that she had ran like a pussy. But to kiss him on the dance floor, of all places? To kiss him right before the eyes of her six other mates— Her mind swam, her heart was thundering so hard it felt like it might spill from her chest, rip open into the grass. He'd been intoxicating. Too fucking delicious. Sure, she had been buried deep in his wings, the best of censorship for the situation, but her cheeks grew hot knowing that they could smell them. And she'd been puddling for him, practically dripping. She sniffed herself then, pits and all. Mated or not, her nose was still all clogged up from years of nothing.
She had not really smelled Helios, and perhaps he'd oiled himself with some kind of Omega suppressant just for the night. It did make sense, considering his reputation as the most sensual of Omegas. But Quinn? Quinn had her scent amplified like a flower waiting to be plucked, and she could smell her own peach, nectarine and sugar in the air. Perhaps she didn't really mind their knowing. But it'd been a while since her last romantic escapade, and she was equivalent to a bumbling, daft Bambi fresh from its mother's womb.
If not for the damn bell, she might have fucked him right there on the dance floor.
This was merely a strategic retreat, a way to repair her shoddy heart, to—Oh, fuck that. She'd just been fucking stupid. And now regret was thrumming in her as she paced. She wanted him; she knew that now with clarity in her head. No drink, all sober. But she was a fucking pussy. There was just too much to think about, too much to feel. It felt as if her heart were threatening escape from her chest, and Quinn was frightened by just how much she wanted him. It was like wildfire, tearing through her insides, turning her into mush.
And it had her panic-stricken. How deeply she'd felt the bond, how utterly soul-blinding it had been. Was it her, or was it mating magic? That question had her heart skittering up into her throat. But now she was sure that it was all her. Because the regret and the guilt were tumultuous and roaring, enough for her to slap her own cheeks and curse under her breath.
Stupid Quinn.
What was she? Twelve?
Everyone had seen her run off like a spooked animal. It was going to make them look bad now. Bad mates, bad kings. And as much as she could escape into the safety of her home and call it a day, that would not do. It would draw questions and turn heads. The people would point fingers at her mates. There would be whispers behind her back. That couldn't happen.
She was being such a fucking idiot. Frightened by love. That caused a chuckle to erupt from her throat. And now she was turning back to the door, hands on the knob, determined to right her wrongs. She was such a fucking pussy.
The door was shoved open just before she could enter it, with wind in her hair. A blonde angel with feathery black wings. Familiar, moon-drenched, rosy eyes consumed by an endless black. Gorgeous face, lips quivering. His cheeks, however, had been drained of all colour. Ice in his veins.
"Quinn," her name slid from his lips like watery syrup, and her heart raced impossibly faster.
And of course, Helios was there in all his glory, fear etched all over his face. His wings were spread wide, fluttering. The worry was immense, trembling in quaking lips, in messed-up hair and sweat beading on his hairline. She felt the rush of apology roaring through her almost immediately, staring at eyes she loved too much. She didn't really mean to run; it was because of all the people. The space, and how hot she felt, swaying in the heat of need. She wanted more, so much more, and she was just so aware of the eyes of everyone in the room—
Fuck.
"Helios—"
"I'm sorry," he gasped out.
The words were choked in her throat as his eyes glittered only brighter. Gaze landing upon hers and making her all too aware of everything that she was to him. Because fucking hell the genuine, gut-wrenching concern that marred his perfect face had her chest aching far too quickly. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him the truth, but he shot off like an animal on the run. The words spilled out from his lips like a shotgun, too fast for her rebuttal, too quick for her to even slip in her own apologies.
He was clearly just as frazzled, perhaps even more so.
"I drank too much," he whimpered out almost immediately, stumbling towards her, practically falling to his knees. And it was crazy how his presence electrified the air, how goosebumps erupted over her skin when his palms barely grazed her arms. "I'm an awful, awful person. I know I shouldn't have pushed you when you weren't ready. I know I shouldn't have gone too far when it's only been two weeks—fuck. Fuck!"
"Helios—" She attempted. "Helios, I—"
"I just—I just want you so much," he choked out. "I-I want you so badly." He was slipping then, and she could see it in his eyes, wet with desperate tears. "M-my Omega is always begging me for you. It is always in my head, begging. I know it's no excuse. But I just—I just—" He shook his head violently. "I—I fucked up. I'm sorry I—It won't happen again—"
"Stop."
"I'm a horrible, horrible mate."
"Helios—"
"Please, you can do whatever you want, just don't ignore me—"
"Helios, listen to me."
She steadied him then, hands on his arms, and he froze, watery eyes wide. It was ridiculous how her touch seemed to remove all the anxiety in his body. He seemed to sag into her arms, melting almost immediately. The power she had over him was incredible, and it was as if he'd do anything just for her affections. She could see it in the madness glowing in his eyes.
"Calm down." The moonlight poured upon them like water, had his skin glowing, lashes silvery. His brows furrowed, confusion all over his face. "I'm not upset." Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. "It's not you."
His eyes widened, scrutinizing her. "You're not upset?" Her mind spun then, trying desperately to find a way to calm her frantic mate. And that was when it hit her, the most basic of fey abilities, his tongue on her pulse—
"Just taste my emotions," she commanded and watched as he blinked slowly, stupidly staring at her as if she'd declared something impossible. Surprise erupted within her. What the fuck? "Can't you tell?"
"Alcohol fucks with my senses for a bit," he explained sheepishly. His eyes watered then as he stared at her. "And when I'm with you…I'm not as sure of myself."
"Why not?" Quinn gawked at him. "You've never had any problems before!" Anxiety erupted within her then, roaring up her throat. "Is this because of the ink? Are you—"
"It's just performance anxiety," he explained quickly. "I'm just too afraid of getting it wrong," he admitted, swallowing thickly. He motioned to his mouth, stuck out his tongue as if she could see his inability. "It all tastes like my own…fears."
Damn. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth. The guilt grew, roaring through her veins. A pause, and she exhaled hot and heavy. "Look, I'm the one who should apologize." She swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to leave." She gave him a small glance, fingers scratching her cheek. "I-I fucked up."
He seemed to do a double take, adorable nose scrunching. "What?"
"Too many eyes," she said. "I just felt so…well, watched," she explained. "I'm used to running, and truthfully, I hate the spotlight. I always have. And right now? I know everyone's looking, because I—"
The words were tangled on her tongue. She knew the boys had been staring at her like forlorn, kicked puppies. She knew that everyone in their little village had long realised that they had some kind of problem in paradise. And it all just made her feel so naked, like having her fucking pants down to her knees, like being a fucking failure. The thought disturbed her. She knew without a doubt that it was wrong to think this way, knew that they'd told her again and again that it was all fine. That nobody cared. That she shouldn't let it get to her head.
But she just couldn't help it.
The modern world had messed her up.
She'd been born like this, made worse because of a system that feared failure, due to a world that placed her on a pedestal and enlarged all her mistakes. A world that recorded her sins and immortalised it all online. And as much as she loved her boys, loved Helios, she couldn't help but feel the claw of eyes on her back. Quinn could not let loose at a party.
She was literally their pack Alpha.
The village's pack Alpha.
Her status had risen too quickly, too rapidly, and now she stood as a beacon of change. She was their leader too, a respected member of their ruling committee. As much as she wanted to deny it, had stopped countless Alphas and Omegas from bowing in her presence, had insisted that they called her by name.
She was still their queen.
The fame was just different.
She just didn't want to fuck it all up.
Helios's expression seemed to fall, morphing into steel. The change was horrifyingly quick, a dip from heat to ice. "Is someone bothering you?" his voice had deepened into venom now, lips pursed into a thin, angry line. He'd do anything for her, and they both knew it. She moved rapidly to stop him because she knew Helios could be bloodthirsty and crazy like that.
"No!" She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong—"
"Did someone talk to you about us?" His thoughts were firing, eyes hardening, wings spreading. The soldier in him was talking now, ready for a fight; a growl began low in his throat. "They won't do it again, I swear it—"
"Stop, stop." She squeezed his arm then to draw his attention. "Look, it's just a part of being the pack Alpha."
His nose scrunched up adorably, head tilted. His eyes warmed the moment he looked at her, pupils dilating so swiftly that it both frightened and pleased her. His adoration was almost suffocating, consuming her completely and utterly. He was enraptured, and she was his star.
"I know that they're watching," she began, trying her best to explain without getting someone killed. "There's always an expectation for us to succeed first. Because fucking hell, these ideas are mine. The whole shit about fucking to live is my idea. And the weight of all that frightens me because what if I fuck it all up? What if everyone succeeds, but us? And I just, I just hate being judged, being so publicly seen when I'm struggling because I hate it when my inadequacies, my failures are viewed and assessed. Because what if I'm a bad Alpha—"
"You're not a bad Alpha," Helios insisted smoothly. His long fingers had long made their way to her wrist, pulling her gently towards him. And she had not noticed how close they were now, his warmth gently radiating against the chill of her skin. But she'd been desperate for his proximity, and the closeness was necessary.
"I know," she said frantically, hands to her head. "I know that's what you'll say. But I hate it when problems aren't solved and the solution isn't easy. But it's not all that. It's not about them. It's not just about that. I was scared of something else entirely. I ran mostly because I've never felt so afraid of my own emo—"
She was pulled against his chest then, her face colliding into the warm sinewy heat of him. His arms were around her, scooping her into a crushing hug that had her body against his like two jigsaw puzzles. Fitted and all snug. It was dangerous like this, his scent was stronger now with her nose pressed to the crook of his neck, the delicious scent of salted caramel wafting from his throat. A moment later, and she was falling deeper into the molten furnace of his heat. Delicious skin to skin contact had her brain firing with all kinds of feel-good hormones. She swore she could remain in his embrace forever.
She sighed, broken soul replenishing just from his touch. She felt stupid now, stupid for overthinking, for panicking, for all the anxiety that thrummed within her and exploded like a maelstrom. The safety he provided, wings brushing against her cheek was like that of an angel's. She sighed. And between them the bond glowed.
He was her mate.
Her soulmate.
And her deepest fear revealed itself then.
How could she ever fear rejection from him?
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm being so difficult."
"It's okay," he replied. "I understand." He squeezed her gently then, and she felt him grow stiff; body moving, and despite it all she felt herself despair at the lack of his touch. "Shh," he whispered, but he stepped away, hands falling to his sides. His expression calmed, eyes seemed to gleam with so much unbearable softness. "I understand now." He moved, taking with him the sweet waft of his Omega scent. She blinked, bewildered. He was now pressing himself against the wall, a strange look in his eyes. His face had fallen, only a fraction, but it was clearly a sign of insecurity.
"Huh?"
"I promise to keep to myself," he said, turning to the door. "Please, come back. You've yet to have most of the food, and they will be mad if I kept you away from your meal. They'd want you to have your fill at the very least."
"I've had my dinner—" He moved as she neared him, sidestepping out of the way like she was the plague.
"It's okay," he replied, eyes downcast, hands reaching for the knob.
"Huh?" Shit. And already she could taste the misunderstanding growing in the air, she snatched his wrist, pulled him back. He was right, he couldn't read emotions when he had alcohol. Or he had hers completely fucking wrong. "Helios, what do you mean?"
He spun then, eyes filled a strange kindness to them despite the unshed tears. "You'd prefer a platonic relationship, right?" His words baffled her, jaw dropping. Couldn't he smell her in the air? Couldn't he taste her lust? Her yearning for him?
"What?"
"I completely understand—"
"No!" She shook her head vehemently. The panic rose in her chest. What kind of fucked up misunderstanding was this? She was determined to end it completely before it twisted into the most awful of pining love stories. "You've got it all completely wrong."
His eyes softened. "You don't have to lie to me." He pressed his hand to his back, the other raised in an oath. "I swear to you, I will not touch you sexually. I will not even think of lustful thoughts in your presence—"
"Helios, for the love of fucking God, I want you," she hissed, snatching his hand from the air before he could finish his goddamn pledge. "Whatever you're tasting in the air, it's me. Your tongue is not broken. It's what I want."
He froze then, confusion brimming. His lips parted, jaw fell apart. He was almost too adorable, staring at her with wide eyes. "Huh?"
She sighed, ran fingers through her hair. It was her own fault for fucking with his head. "I just—I ran because I panicked on the dance floor. I've never felt so frightened of my own feelings. I've just never felt this way before."
Helios stared at her, jaw falling open dumbly. He could catch flies. "This way?"
"I've never allowed myself to think of anything more," she answered. "I just didn't think it was possible for someone like me," she told him. "But I don't want to run anymore. I want to give in. I want everything." He stared at her, lips parting, all glossy, all chewed to a swollen, juicy, kissable red.
"What?"
Did she really have to spell it all out? She licked her lips. "I think I would have jumped you if that clock hadn't rung."
"Jump?"
"Like…" She cleared her throat, cheeks growing red. "Jump on you."
"To break me?"
"What the fuck, Helios," she hissed, glared at him. Was he joking? She stared at him, and while humour had entered his emotional sphere, twisted into a teasing lilt in his bell-like voice, there was clearly still some scepticism in his eyes. She groaned. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"
He wore the tiniest of smiles, stretching almost lazily on his pretty face. She knew he had his guesses, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Yeah."
"I want sex with you."
His jaw dropped. The flush of heat on his cheek was insatiable, roaring across his face. He spluttered now. Pink blossoming all over his skin, spreading to his ears and neck. The shade was amazing on him, like carnations and roses. One second, then two.
"What?" she snapped, feeling the fire in her own cheeks. Her heart had long escaped her chest, soaring into the sky. "Wasn't it obvious?"
A croak escaped him. "Y-You're serious?"
"I didn't say I wasn't." The look on her face must have convinced him because now he tried to explain himself desperately, hands reaching out to her waist, fingers on the malleable curve of her hips. His eyes shimmered then with a growing, roaring tension.
"When you ran, I couldn't be sure if all that sugar was real," he muttered more to himself now, lips parting to taste the air. The glossy appendage moved, licking. Eyes almost rolling back as a breathy moan escaped him. "This is all so thick, and so spiced and so sweet. I thought it must be me because it tastes like an Omega in Heat—" He paused then, stared at her as her body seemed to light up on fire in an entirely different way. "You?"
"Stop teasing me," she grumbled.
A small laugh barked out from his throat. The tease started in the smirk on his lips, confidence growing. He giggled. "And the guys were saying I fucked up." He smirked then, chest puffed out proud. His eyes sparkled as he moved only closer, the smile hooked to the corner of his lips was only growing wider. "Really? You truly mean it, Alpha?"
"Don't push it."
"You want me?" He batted eyelashes, tilted his head, eyes meandering over the length of her body, landing slowly on her face. "I'm flattered." A smirk grew on his lips, and he swept golden bangs from his eyes. "And I thought my skills were getting rusty from the lack of use." He was growing cocky, and she snorted.
"You're fucking them every night," she pointed out. "That is not a lack of use."
"How do you—" His stammer erupted. His hands were still on her back now, thumb twirling slow circles. The feel of it was turning her legs to jelly, had the apex of her thighs throbbing to the beat of her heart. The fucker definitely knew what he was doing, because his evil smile continued growing. Charm in his tone. "We tried to keep it quiet."
"I know," she said, a little flustered by his giddy laughter. "But we're mates, so I'll know." She had enough of his shit now, pulse thundering in her ears. "Which is why," she dragged him closer, hands on his collar, tugging him down. His angelic features contorted in surprise. "You should know how I feel, and you should trust your own abilities."
"Thank you," he whispered, the reverence in his tone surprised her. "Thank you," he repeated as if her words were the best thing he'd heard in his life. He seemed to shake it off then, grinning widely, clearly eager to push out more tease, toying with the bottom of his lip with a sparkly white tooth, tongue to cheek. He watched her with eyes that grew only increasingly hooded. "Well then, baby," he purred, wiggled his hips like a salacious cat. "Tell me how you want me. My mouth? My thighs?"
Hadn't she been clear enough? She raised a brow then cleared her throat. "I want you to fuck me."
Surprisingly, his jaw dropped again. Mouth open, then snapped shut. A scandalised look stretched over his face. Something strange frothed in his eyes, a gleam in too dark orbs. A bite of self-doubt twisted in her chest. Right. She'd forgotten that men in this world were the ones getting fucked, and she'd just spoken of what must sound like the wildest blasphemy in their culture.
She winced. "Too weird?"
"Not at all," he cleared his throat, seeming to reel himself in. "We've talked about this." He pursed his lips thoughtfully, but she could feel his heart racing in his chest under her fingertips. "I want to do it," he assured. "Don't worry about a thing—"
She squinted. "You know what I mean, right?"
He nodded solemnly, interest kindling. "My Alpha wants my cock in her pussy." He hummed, and her cheeks could only grow impossibly redder. Her head was spinning, dizzy from the perfume of his scent, wafting sweetly in the air. He licked his lips, turning them rosy, almost as if to prepare them. "Sounds amazing. How about we do it now?"
"Now?"
She gaped at him; this time she was the one scandalized, but he moved before she could backtrack, closing the gap between them before she could speak. He sandwiched her against the wall, closed in with an arm caging her from escape. The other lightly on her hip. His breath was hot, lingering as his eyes caught her gaze. One second, then two, she felt as if she were drowning in him, in the anticipation. She shivered.
"Helios," she whispered.
A giggle bubbled from his throat. Air was banished from her as he took her lips. His kiss was wild heat, gentle suckling until her skin throbbed. His hands swept to the curve of her jaw, cradling her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They were pressed flush now, chest to chest.
But she refused innocent kissing, because she was deepening the kiss too quickly, burying herself into him. One hand in his hair, the other tangled in the front of his shirt. Her lungs were burning, but she was eager for more, tasting the sweet spice of good wine on his tongue. Their teeth grazed, and his tongue swept against hers, lips moulding, suckling. A moan escaped her just as he delved only deeper, making her fully aware of the immense pressure of his desire.
And then he was pressing her into the wall, vehement, sloppy, desperate with need, spiralling too quickly out of control. The tangle of their tongues, escalating. And God, Helios had long slotted himself against her, thigh to her clit, throbbing far too potently. The friction delicious as his own swelling cock told her that he wanted her just as much as she did. And she was dripping wet, tasting the sweet sugar of his slick in the air. The smell of an Omega growing wanton in her arms. The sublime taste of a man of syrup and spice.
"Fuck," she hissed, parting for breath. But his eyes were burning, sinking into her skin as he pressed himself to her again. Too fixated by her mouth, tasting her again and again before she could even breathe. He moaned, airy soft, whimpering when her hips jolted against his cock. He was spewing pre-cum, soaking though his jeans, painting her skin with his sticky want. And now the suppressants that concealed his scent was ebbing. She was high on his scent, high on the smell of a ripe Omega.
"Q-Quinn," he choked out. "I want you so much," he groaned, tone to fucking dangerous, it had her dripping. His hands were moving, eagerly groping at her flesh, rising up her body, grazing the sensitive peaks of her nipples. She inhaled sharply, all sticky, all hot. "I'm dripping." And she knew he was wet too, could smell the honey in the air.
She pulled one of his hands from her cheek. There was a blink of confusion from him as she took him down, bunching up her skirt, bringing him in deeper. His eyes, glazed and filled with lust, almost seemed to darken immediately. He was giddy when she pressed another soul-stealing kiss to his lips. His salted caramel was twisting, changing into something buttery and blooming, rich with spice. Delicious.
Her confidence was growing, rising to new heights. "Never fingered a girl before?"
"No," he breathed, but a lopsided smile was revealed. "But how different can it really be from an Omega's ass?"
"Are you seriously talking about someone's ass while I'm standing right here?" she shot back. But the glare she aimed at him was ruined entirely by the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She felt his hand now, searching the damp of her panties. The other digging against her hipbone as he dipped lower past the curls between her legs.
The noise that erupted from him was incredible. His giddiness was bright in his eyes, lips parted headily. Fingertips slipped between her thighs with cautious fascination, tracing her pussy as though he still couldn't quite believe she was allowing him such a privilege. And she knew what he was feeling, the rough pad of his thumb brushed her clit. Pleasure snapped sharply up her spine, stealing the breath from her lungs in one startled gasp.
"W-Where?" he whispered, almost dazed by it all. Overwhelmed. His fingers explored carefully, feeling the yielding warmth of her body beneath his touch. The gummy drenched honey. "You're so soft."
She huffed a laugh through the haze overtaking her senses. "You've literally buried your tongue in my cunt before. You know where."
"It's different," he groaned immediately, cheeks flushing hot enough to betray him. "This is—Fuck—This is different."
The sincerity of it made her laugh again, though it dissolved quickly into a trembling exhale when his fingers dipped lower, deeper, finding the clench of her muscles. "It's insane to me," she muttered, head tipping back. "That none of you have ever tried this just because someone declared it blasphemy."
"No Alpha would allow it," he admitted quietly. "Too degrading. Too beneath them."
"Bullshit," she hissed.
She guided his hand lower, fingers tightening around his wrist until he finally circled the sensitive hole of her. His forefingers were now just an inch shy from the clench of her hole. And the fucker had the audacity to wait, allowing her impatience to grow as he circled her with a lazy smile. "You're going to prune my fingers," he hummed. "Were you always this wet?"
"Helios."
He moved, knee prying her thighs further apart, forefingers circling, thumbs on the bump of her clit flicking up and down still. He was skilled as fuck, despite it being his first time. The moment he breached her, both of them froze. His eyes widened first. Awestruck. The expression nearly wrecked her, ruined her. His breath caught, mouth gasping, scent growing too rich.
"You're so fucking hot," he breathed, staring at her as if he'd stumbled onto something far too sacred. "Does it hurt?"
"It's no different from an Omega."
"But you still need stretching, right?"
She growled. "Then stretch me."
"Fuck."
A/N - Read 9 chapters ahead on
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