Beginning of Chapter 21

Rue

"Motherfucker", she hissed, feet kicking at stone. She didn't need to do what Dante wanted her to do, and that was the undeniable truth of the situation. He had no right to the request, no right to ask for an Omega's slick like the deranged pervert he was. It wasn't as if she could milk an Omega like one would with a cow's udder, massaging tits and smacking rump.

And for him to request for her slick? Her cheeks flushed, body shivering at the thought of him doing the damn milking, tongue on a puffy, swollen clit, and two fingers deep within gummy vices—She cursed, hand on cheek.

It was delusion spoken by a power-hungry wanker. Dante wanted that influence over Rue, had the barrel of a gun to Rue's temple. Except Rue knew those bullets were duds, for the scent blockers were only mildly illegal. They were nothing compared to the death traps that the suppressants were. And they were death traps, Rue realised that now with her fingers scrolling through the news, searching for answers.

Mere grams would have sent her for questioning, a solid pill to jail. The blockers, however, seemed alright, if alright meant a hefty 100,000 fine and a day at court. But Dante had no proof once he allowed her to walk free with her tail tucked between her legs and a middle finger jabbed in his direction. He made that mistake.

She hissed, lips spread into a thin line, hands clasping at what remained of her costly purchase.

Fucking nothing.

Rue was back down to almost zero, had spent every last cent paying for her mother's medical fees; the monthly payment to the ugly lizard for the contract; and the other burdens that she had in life—school fees, bills, and rent.

Rue earned and spent. She didn't have the luxury of saving money, no financial freedom in her goddamn future. Not even with Levi and Professor Ryo lining her pockets—an endless abyss filled with parasites that ate at her cash.

Mercy, she begged the world. Have mercy on me, please.

Returning to Louise with her wallet empty and nothing to show was a painful pill that Rue had to swallow. For she had no pills, and the looming threat of her Omega nature was resurfacing like a disease. She had to make plans, and she had to make them fast. Or at least before Halcyon found her writhing with Heat on silk sheets that were meant for Omegas, slick pulsing out of her cunt and soaking his bunnies in rivers of need.

He might take her, he might throw her out, he might even kill her. Rue knew without a doubt that the knowledge that she was an Omega would be a kill switch to whatever gentlemanly conscience he had within him. It was sexism bred deep from the source of all Alpha strength and began the moment their bodies grew dicks.

Alphas didn't see Omegas as people, they saw them as tools.

It was only luck that she was scentless, that the only smell she had to block out was the whistle of pheromones that seeped through the air—invisible but calling. Rue's brows furrowed, teeth snagging her bottom lip.

Dante had called her sweet, which meant that he enjoyed the smell of her tailored Alpha garbage. And like his trashy self, he must be broken not only in the head but also in the fucking nose. A smirk stretched across her cheeks, hands pulling at the knob of the door.

The common room was noisy when she entered the space. An hour pass midnight, and yet there was a team of lazing Alphas waiting. Her heart leapt into her throat at the chatter, thighs squeezing shut, skin prickling at the presence. There was tension in the air, the heat of far too many fucking Alphas in the space was a stark and ghastly difference from the situation mere days ago.

But Rue was determined to ignore them all, head down, fingers digging at her shoe straps. Surely, they'd let her go—

"Rue!" Her eyes twitched, her head snapping up to the people she did not want to see. People that resembled models from a magazine for masturbating Omegas. People that were so damn fucking gorgeous that it had her growing a little dizzy, body hot, insides squelching.

Seraphim, at the counter, naked waist up but in shorts that sagged at the V-line dips, nipples pink and blushing. Kieran, sipping on tea in sweats, collarbones showing, throat slender, eyes piercing. Levi by his side, dressed in T-shirt and boxers, veiny hands fisting chips, two fingers deep, tongue between lip.

Halcyon, on the couch with a wet crown of hair and dewy skin, thighs parted, head tossed back, Bambi-wide eyes and glossy. Altair and Valentino perched by his side like club girls, each in their own matching pyjama onesie. Wet silk fabric—thin and flowing over skin, outlining muscles, dips, bulges and shapes. Cocks swept and plastered to their thighs, the mushroom outlines printing on princess clothing. No underwear. No fucking decency, always pandering.

Their eyes were on her, and she felt their gaze groping her body like unwanted fingers searching for secrets, looking for clues. She pulled her coat closer, scowl deepening, body heaving. She snapped her eyes to the offender, Altair, contemplating using silent treatment.

Cooled down and thinking back, Rue wasn't that mad. She'd simply been mildly offended that they'd played her like a clown. All they did was remind her harshly that Rue could not allow herself to sink into the safety of a clique; couldn't assume that she had friends she could trust; and that Alphas were always Alphas.

But that didn't mean she was livid enough to make him her enemy.

"What do you want, Altair?" she sighed, giving up, arms crossed with feigned boredom. She wondered how long they'd waited for her on the couch, dressed like triplets in the pyjamas they'd spent the day purchasing, dressed like whores. This had her blinking at the thought, eyes regarding them once again critically. Knowing the trio now, perhaps they'd been sucking cock on the coach.

The haughty bastard sniffed, smiled prettily at her as if she hadn't last seen him with his pants around his ankles, his cock swinging free, and pretending to be Halcyon's enemy. The relief in his eyes danced across his face when she met his gaze, spreading like wildfire to the other two by his side. And she hated how cute he looked for a moment, brows knotting upwards, eyes too fucking big.

"Your shit's in your room in boxes. But we've set up your cheap machines, got them all working," Altair pointed out proudly, chest lifting, puffing with an almost purr in his throat. "We spent the night on it." Valentino and Halcyon nodded vigorously. There was something odd in their eyes, in the way they were growing and waiting, like puppies yearning for compliments, like Omegas begging for cock. That thought had her faltering, shock electrifying through her system.

"Thanks," she stated with a shrug, throwing them a bone. Their eyes sparkled, tension fading from shoulders. She knew what they saw—forgiveness, and they wolfed it down. Her response was a sign that she was willing to talk. "You here to sleep with Halcyon?" She drawled, too tired to give a shit. They must have waited hoping to take her bed. "I can take the couch," she offered too damn kindly.

This had them freezing. A moment of falling expressions and glances exchanged. They looked as if she'd just offered to shove her toes deep into their asshole. And God, it had her gritting her teeth, masseter muscle pulsing.

"What?" Rue snapped.

"The thing is, we stay here," Valentino interrupted quickly, licked lips with the darkest, most nervous eyes. "We're down the hall. We share a room. Altair and I." Rue stared at him then, mind darting to the offending door, memories churning. The fuck?

"We're your dorm mates before you were even here. We weren't stalking you or anything," Altair nodded quickly. "We just haven't been around that much because this place sucked—" Rue's grip tightened in her pockets, a fake smile forming. Goddamn their house of cards, their little plans, their love for public spaces. Had they wanted to surprise her? Creep into her room to fuck Halcyon while she was sleeping?

"How gloriously convenient," she stated dryly. She should have known, packs didn't stray. And Gods, the ability to feel surprised had vanished from her system. Rue was too damn exhausted and charged with anxiety to give a fuck. "How convenient. You live right next door, while your mate suffered in poverty."

"We weren't lying," Altair stated quickly. "You just never asked. And Halcyon did sleep on his floor."

"I did," Halcyon said. "We fought." He spread his arms wide, nose scrunching. "It was a huge fight. I was cut off. Didn't have access to their money." This had a half snort from the crowd watching, and Halcyon cleared his throat. "I mean, I wasn't in a good place." Lies.

"We were mad at each other," Valentino agreed. Her silence made them bounce, words tumbling out of them so quickly it was as if they truly owed her the explanation. Their lies disappearing, twisting into hidden truths. The eros continued, feet tapping, dark eyes filled with nerves. "So we didn't fuck for a really long time."

Halcyon continued, doe-eyes growing wider. "At least a month. It was awful."

"We were also so damn busy!" Altair pointed out. "Plenty of planets screwing themselves over. We pulled all-nighters out in the field. There was no time to fuck. And when we had time, we didn't want to fuck each other."

Valentino charged in like a bull, grabbed that excuse by its horns and went with it. "We were mad at each other while battling armies, killed hives. So we were almost in Rampage and really, really pent up down there."

"We weren't thinking straight," Halcyon insisted, almost begging. "You know how it feels like when you don't cum for a week. It hurts." No God, she didn't. Rue hadn't come in months. She couldn't afford that burst of pheromones, that rush of slick soaking her panties. But Rue swallowed down her grimace, stony faced and listening.

"We didn't nut for 31 days," Altair said as if the number was a wild one. "I haven't orgasmed in forever—"

Rue's eyes narrowed. "You came all over your pants every time we met." And this had Altair growing pink, a flush that stretched all over his neck and danced pink in his eyes. He breathed, indignity colouring him and his floating penises. "You ejaculate easily—"

"That doesn't count." Altair insisted, shaking his head, perched on the coach with his knees locked together. "It doesn't."

"You came all over your fucking pants. It was like piss—"