18-Beginning of Chapter 6

The bark of laughter that escaped her throat was too loud and too awkward. She stifled it down with the last of her food. The once crispy bread, dripping with oily sauce and fatty meat, was now ash on her tongue. The confidence in her smile was false, and she felt the rise of heat in her body, the sweat that pooled, the tightness of her chest. It all engulfed her like a tsunami of awareness.

Quinn snorted but caught the look in his eyes. Haughty, serious, and pissed. And then he was the devil, her heart's latest obsession, curls growing wild and flaming. Eyes so sly and so goddamn crazy, she had her head screaming in deadly warning. His, could be an immoral sort of need that would only change once he realised the truth of her identity.

Helios would mark her in his moment of stupidity, but a moment was enough in his Heat.

And good God was he buzzing with the beginnings of Heat, dripping with slick so sweet it caught in her throat. Quinn could ignore it, could take each gulp of oxygen through lips that did not smell. But the tendrils of his want wafted up to her nose, and the memory of his caramel chained her to his feet.

It was only the experiences of her previous life, the knowledge of what it was like to not be a sex-starved being, that kept her sane. But it didn't stop the flush that flooded her cheeks, warm pink that refused to go from the angel that had pressed himself to her back and refused to let go.

Quinn had seen marked Alphas, had seen the way they paced about the room almost on the edge of their seat. They were the ones scratching at their necks till the leftovers of a bite grew bloody and scarred; the ones that consumed alcohol like water and drugs like food.

The ones that had their souls dripping from their eyes and their bodies a ragged shell of themselves.

A bite from him would be worse than death.

And while the taste of her had quelled his pre-Heat, it would soon blossom into a fiery need. And lord, she didn't know if she had the power to withhold herself from touching him, didn't know if she could stand in his presence at his full force.

Quinn might be a Beta, but this was her first Omega after all.

"You're crazy, boy," she mumbled, wiped her lips with a tissue. Her fingers twitched; rapid blinks were all she could afford to reveal the nerves from an erratic desire to flee. In her head she was spinning with methods to keep him calm, sedated. Her hands moved to a jar; the porcelain was white with painted blue flowers. When her fingers lifted the lid, they shook. "Crazy, crazy boy."

"You're ours," he growled, voice slurring with the last of his bread, "you taste like mine. You'd fit so nicely in the pack covered in our scent." He licked bubble lips, swollen, moist flesh so damn kissable it hurt not to lavish them in the attention they deserved. Then turned golden eyes on her. "You smell like fruit."

"I'm yours because I smell like fruit?" Her incredulity bubbled free from her throat, but he staunched that with a wave of his hand.

"You smell like you'd fit," he sighed. His pupils moved upwards, vanished beneath fluttering lids, a warm breath escaping plump lips. The threads of heat spooling skywards. A cum face was what he deemed necessary to explain his want for her, and her fingers tightened around the handle of her cup. "Perfectly."

And she knew he wasn't lying because in his daze his honesty showed clear in the citrine of his eyes. He confirmed that her scent gland had changed, that there was a possibility for a new start. Her genetics might remain as the fallen princess, but parts of her were shifting to become uniquely Quinn.

Perhaps, she could truly call herself a distant cousin of Euodia's. The hope was astounding, fluttered through her like wildfire and grasped at her throat. To be freed from the sins of her body, it would break her ties from this world. She could be just Quinn. And that was what she wanted more than anything in this new world.

To be free to choose whoever she wanted to love in this godforsaken universe.

Her mouth went dry, hunger filling despite the prevention. She wanted him so much that her body throbbed in his gaze, and his presence was a ghost pressed tight to her skin. His every exhale was air against the nape—scent gland pulsating.

"Yeah, I'd totally pick up girls by telling them I'm perfect for their ice cream sundae," she joked, but he didn't laugh. And she paused, took his cup to spin a dollop of generous honey and a dash of milk. The cream sloshed at the edges of the cup when she pushed it to him, warm and steaming. "Don't tell me... There are granola-scented boys in your little team of seven."

"Sol's like cereal," he mumbled out, eyes glazed and soft—sweet. In the air was the waft of his pheromones. It enticed her once again, begging her to breathe, to take him in, to eat him out, to watch him cum. "And Zen-nie smells like freshly baked cookies." He licked his lips, tongue darting out to catch the taste of a memory. "They're good with your fruit."

"Ouch, I'd hate to be called a cereal," she teased, watched as he took the cup, nursed its warmth between icy fingers that were pink from the temperature. "Wheat-based, sugar-free horse food."

"Sol's a good kind," he assured, "the crispy types from before the war that's almost like buttery cinnamon bread. The ones that aren't like pure sugar in milk. A thousand times better than your toast." She watched as he tilted his head and swallowed a decent gulp of drink. He didn't stop. Her lips lifted. Good.

"Let me guess," she tapped her fingers on the table, "he smells a hundred times better than me?"

Helios paused, considering her question. She watched as his eyes drooped and his brows knotted as he sniffed, tasted her on his palette, allowed her scent to coat his tongue. Her lips quivered when he groped for her hand, fingers to her wrist and nose darting over the inner side. The spark that ignited was enough to unleash a full body tremor that had her shaking in her seat.

"Well?" she teased, but her voice caught in her throat.

"You smell better," he admitted after a while, a little incoherent.

"I'm just your new favourite happy meal. You want to lock me up and eat me out forever."

"That..." his voice dipped into a soft purr. "Would be nice."

It was a gentle rumble that had her heart soar; her eyes widening at the sound. The purr escaped him—soft vibration in his chest that reminded her of a cat.

But it made her insides melt, growing warm and sticky with a strange sort of happiness. It was as if she were pleased by the sound, as if something innate in her was overjoyed that her Omega was purring—

"Fuck you," she choked out a laugh, silenced the feelings. "I'm not human cattle!"

His shoulders lifted as he drank her in, ate at her energy the way a vampire did with blood. He swayed as his lips brushed over skin and a thousand butterflies erupted in her stomach. She felt the jolt of tension, the burn of sexual heat that steadied upon her shoulders—a cry for more than just gentle handholding. The phantom flick of his tongue on her clit was memories burned into her mind.

Quinn did her best to breathe through her mouth, stifled his scent with a hand to her nose.

"You were peach when we first met," he mumbled, "but you're growing sour, like strawberries." Helios blinked up at her through dazed eyes. His movements were sluggish as he seemed to work his brain through the haze of her drugs. It was all in the honey, always the honey.

"So, scents change. Didn't know that." she shrugged but felt herself sag against his touch. Then cursed inside when she remembered he could literally taste her guilt with a swipe of his hands over her skin. No lies could escape unscathed from his powers. And with her scent in the air, her truth could be read like an open book.

"You're nervous," he frowned.

"You're just really hot, and it's been a while."

"You're starting to taste fucking disgusting."She could almost hear the squall in his voice, the gag in his throat. She was quinine on his lips, and his eyes grew flat, blanched as if he couldn't take her anymore from the source, and yet he stayed sniffing and smelling. "What did you do?"

"Thank God for that," she tried to tug her hand away, "I'd hate it if you stayed forever."

"That's a lie." He was slipping, head drooping, as he spoke. The words from his lips were so slurred they melted across his tongue. But his hands were on her wrist, held so tight as if he could never separate from her being. "I need you. I really need you. I can't, can't fucking survive without you."

"Well," she sighed for the hundredth time that day, her words were all cryptic and filled with her bullshit. She couldn't explain the truth to him, not now, not ever. "Be grateful that it wasn't a lethal dose in your tea."

"P-please," there were tears in his eyes, golden eyes that beseeched. They begged her, begged her to keep him forever. "I don't even know your name."

But his fingers loosened, and his grip grew slack. His head swayed, but before he could truly fall, his head shoved forward. Quinn felt the gasp leave her before she registered warm lips on her own. The dance of trembling flesh, sweet against her mouth. The kiss blossomed in her chest, warmed her being and she felt for once a genuine burn of something that turned towards adoration.

The kiss was chaste, and he fell to the table, cheeks narrowly missing the porcelain. He was fluffy and small in her arms, breath soft through sleep and dead to the world. She sneered, shaking her head. He just had to get the last drop of energy from her no matter what it took.

"Quinn," she answered at last. "But you don't need to know that." It seemed that the prince wouldn't be staying the night after all.