-

The others stared, eyes sunken, cheeks hollowed. Icarus propped on the couch, pen in one hand, ledgers in the other. Elysian by the fire, legs crossed, open books on his knees. Klaus, at his desk, hovering over maps. Solar sorting papers, panning legislations. And Zen was scrubbing blood from his weapons.

But their fingers shook, their faces were pale, bones almost showing. Hunger dulled over time, but it remained, wolfish and clawing at the first taste of sustenance. And as much as Rowan hated to say it Helios was right, they did look awful. Their body was eating into their flesh, turning them thin and haggard. It didn't matter how much food they had. Their bodies were craving something else. And his mates looked up, perked almost excitedly, deliriously, noses high as if they knew, as if they could smell her already.

Rowan supposed that they must stink of Quinn's peach.

"Helios, you shouldn't run off on your own," Solar stated, eyes flashing. "Not even if it's to go home." Helios pursed his lips, bristled like a cat, but he did not speak. And Rowan relished the scolding, relished it as if it were his own.

Elysian shot him a look, eyes sharp, voice twisting into a pitched sharpness. "That includes you, Rowan." He wilted then; lips curled. But he waited for the deluge to descend upon them both, for his mates to lash their tongues and chastise their actions.

And it was odd that there was no scolding after that, no punishment for Helios's cruelty, for Helios's show of disobedience. No punishment for Rowan. There was only curiosity, questions bubbling from his mates like wildfire. And Rowan's words were lost in the exhilaration, the rush in the group that seemed almost desperate, almost crazy.

"How is she?" Zen had blurted, eyes all starry.

"She looks great." Helios smiled. "Happier." But his gaze shifted, hiding secrets, hiding truth. "She agreed to let me drink from her."

Icarus had grinned. "How did she taste?"

Helios nodded. "Sweeter than ever." Icarus had ducked then, pressed his lips to their mate, swapped spit, and sucked tongue. The remains of her it seemed, were enough for him to smack lips and crow. No one seemed to care that she was Alpha, that she was female.

"Fucking hell. That's delicious."

Rowan despaired, something in him wanted retribution, wanted punishment, something in him was angry, and felt wronged. He wanted to be spanked and paddled to tears. "We were supposed to wait," Rowan snapped, eyes wide, "we weren't supposed to sneak off and fuck her—"

Helios spluttered then. "It wasn't intentional," he breathed, eyes lost. "I was just… I thought she was fucking James' boy—"

There were horrified gasps then, a shrill whimper from Zen that startled Rowan, and had him turning to stare at the paleness in his cheeks. The ghosts in his eyes. Zen stood, reaching for his bag, already ready to leave. He choked on his words as if struggling to breathe. "We have to go back now. We have to show her we're better Omegas, that we're better mates."

Rowan almost wailed, horror rushing through him. He didn't want to go back now, he didn't want to see her. He hated her. He hated himself. He hated the world. He hated everything. "Zen."

He snapped. "She's our only chance at survival."

Helios shook his head, cheeks flushed. "It was just a misunderstanding, they're just close—"

Solar's voice was sharp. "We won't let him have her. And he will, he will if we're not careful. She'll fall in love, and she can't. She can't." And a strange sense of doom flooded Rowan's soul and pumped through his veins. It seemed it wasn't just Zen who was infected with her poison.

Elysian gasped, stricken, horrified. "But her heart is ours. She's our wife."

"We won't let him," Icarus snarled. "She'll fall for us first."

Klaus snapped his map shut, calculative, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It seems that we've left our Beta alone for far too long." Rowan blinked and felt a need to correct him tingling on his tongue. Their Alpha. She was their Alpha. "It's about time we went home." Klaus stood then. "Rowan," He called, eyes locked on his. "You'll have her today."

"But—"

"You're suffering the most," Klaus told him, trapping him in his gaze. "I know you can't stomach food. I know you vomit it all out in the bathroom. You're sick and you need her to survive."

And it felt as if a drop of poison had muddled his spring.

*

Quinn

Helios was a hot and cold son of a bitch, and she knew that.

Quinn blamed boredom, it was boredom that had turned Helios irresistible, had seasoned his requests with too much sugar, and made her attempts at denial feeble and weak. But it was her job and her duty. And she really didn't fucking care because the seven were always crazy. Still, she had to warn Carlos of their bosses' assumptions, and so she did with a shrug as she dusted the furniture.

"They think we're fucking?" Carlos had gaped at her, cheeks pale. "Shit."

"Sorry," she answered, loose lip from friendship. "Helios's like livewire. They all are. But don't worry, I dealt with it. I'll throw in a good word for you in the future."

"Don't," he paused, raised a hand, looking all sweaty and cold. "It'll confirm things."

"Confirm what?" She laughed. "Can't I have a friend in this world?"

He bit his nails and spun to stare at her hard. "An Alpha friend? Maybe. An Omega friend? Not really." He eyed her and then, took a step back. "We can't be close."

"They think we'll run off into the wilderness and not look back?" Quinn teased, poking at a corner, spider webs breaking free, dust motes swirling in the air. "Please—"

"They think I'll eat your heart," he answered sharply, and Quinn turned, and blinked hard with a smile. It was an odd choice of words, one that she took as a joke. But it was strange that his face was serious, that his eyes were hard.

She smiled. "I'll just have to play their games." There was a paleness to Carlos' cheeks, a waver in his eyes, his lips pursed tight. A creak of the door and Quinn turned, eyes towards the light. James stood then, rage roaring, molten unfurling. "James…" But Carlos was already stepping away, moving towards his father with his head hung low as if he'd done something wrong.

"Continue your work," the housekeeper hissed, door closed, and Quinn stood staring, confused. But she was rushing to the door, ear pressed against the wood, listening. All she heard was the sharp muffle of scolding, of snapping words from James and the patter of feet on tile. They left soon after.

Odd.

His reaction was weird, strange, as if Carlos had spoken truth, had spilt secrets.

Perhaps they were as vicious as Carlos had said, perhaps it was true that they'd take everything from her, even her heart. Quinn's mind swirled, memories of them feasting on Euodia's heart flooding her mind. Anxiety grew, flooding her throat. They could be spiders lurking in the corners, waiting to take her apart, waiting to feast on her corpse.

The seven might still want her as cattle if she played her cards all wrong. Their contract could be a lie. Her fingers twitched, plans already made, hands swaying through Float. The numbers flashed. She would earn more gold and then she'd prepare for the worse. Quinn always would in this world, and she could be ready for anything.

Perhaps, Quinn needed them to think that she was easy. She had to have their guard down. Pleasant friendship would be the best. She didn't anticipate the second creak of the door, the stretch of friction from rusted hinges. And the person that stood heralding his entrance was unexpected, an unwelcomed return. The person she should fucking hate, but oddly had accepted as a part of the accursed world.

Rowan.