Beginning of Chapter 18

Quinn

There was normality in repeated routines, in a life of dutiful living. Because that was what they allowed her, with her body bowed before Hyeon, and with Xin standing by her side. She'd been escorted to his room the moment Z had left the hall in chaos. And the captain had sighed then as if the decision was tough, the brawny Omega had seemed anxious.

"You can't run far with that leg," he'd mused, fiddling with something in his hands. "I'd have you out in the field if you weren't hurt."

Hyeon sat before a desk of oak, his cloak draped over his chair. The room was rough with plans tagged on the walls. The occasional burn of new technology mixed with the old, fraying parchment. Quinn noted the machines on the wall, the climb of its numbers as Lonely ventured closer to their sensors. Then to the handmade flags tagged upon a map of the terrain.

Post-war would always send an economy back, but the memories of progress remained in their hands.

"But you'll need to work, earn your keep." He nudged his chin towards the window; outside, the wind rattled against the glass. "We don't have much food in these parts. We don't have enough when it's cold. But we're rich when we've got important guests and happy soldiers."

He folded his arms, and let out a scoff, shaking his head. And she didn't have to guess to know that he was speaking of Z, and that she'd done something that wasn't beneficial to the House. Her lips pursed, tightened into a line. God, if they sent her out there into the snow, into the wastelands with the Lonely. Or if she had to give herself up to be a blood slave again—

"Captain, the Beta will be useful as a worker," Xin promised with a firm nod, taking the chance to speak the moment detest flavoured Hyeon's voice. The kindness warmed Quinn's chest. "She was in Fern. Perhaps, outhouse duty—"

"No, he'd kill me for that." Hyeon shook his head, eyes grey in the dark, slitted. "No hard labour. No dirty work. She'll stay in our camp."

Hyeon shook his head, eyes darting over her frame. Inside, Quinn heaved a sigh, felt the shudder of disgust leave her body, gratitude settling within. A place like Hemlock would not have the luxury of running water, and Quinn would not have enjoyed shovelling frozen shit in winter.

But running low on gold and weak from the world, she didn't know if she could survive alone out there with Float.

Hyeon seemed to grow grim. "She'll help out with the cooking until her leg's healed. I'll think about what we can do with her after that." Hyeon sighed, and Quinn stared up at him as he stood, leaning forward to drop the item in her open hands. "Wear this."

Quinn took it without a word, fitting it around her neck, and pulling it tight. It was a collar—leather and much more comfortable than she thought it would be with a simple hook at the back that didn't itch on her skin. Somehow, she welcomed its return, fingers smoothing out the bumps.

She hadn't realised how vulnerable she had felt without one. But a collar removed the bite of awareness that dug into her skin from a freed scent gland. It allowed her to blend in with the Alphas. Bare skin was an opportunity for vampires to feed; bare skin was space for an Omega to bite and claim. Bare skin showed her status, that she was an unclaimed Beta for the taking.

Quinn felt the tremble of fear twisting in her belly.

"The collars are usually drugged," Hyeon grinned. "Dipped in suppressants and scent blockers. A lovelier synthetic scent tailored just to cover up an Alpha's scent. And it has a really nice cherry flavour for us Omegas. We don't want all that," Hyeon struggled to find the word. "Alpha, flavouring our menu."

Quinn found her moment to speak then, voice soft. "Usually?"

"Your collar is just leather." He tapped his nose, and Quinn noticed the tension in Xin's muscles at his words. "You don't need the drugs, it's a waste on you. For you? This is just a uniform." He sniffed the air and shrugged. "You're like fresh air to a wet fart."

Quinn blinked, teeth snagging on her lip. She could not sniff out the cherry that he spoke of, for the smells were all so much duller to her. Still, she had to admit the Alpha's scents did not have the same intensity as she was used to in the past. And Livia's rage had not ballooned and choked quite as much as it seemed like it should.

Xin appeared mildly offended, lips moving quickly to speak with a sharpness on her tongue. "Won't you need to track her?"

"Doesn't matter, if she runs Z will know, and he will find her. It's much better if he can smell her." He shrugged, eyes shifting to hers. His words sent a quiver of warning through her. And Quinn had to look away, confusion tight in her jaw. As a Beta her scent should be weak, it should be difficult to smell even for a wolf. "He'll be back soon, after he licks his wounds, and dries his eyes on his silk pillows."

There was a snort now that escaped him, a chafe from his nose for an inside joke she didn't know. He folded his arms. Curiosity burned in his gaze, a strange knowing look in his eyes that had her struggling to understand.

"Quinn. Let me know if you change your mind," Hyeon drawled. "It's a good life at his place in the city. Fresh meat is on his menu every week. He's rich from work. I've heard that his family…" Hyeon had paused then, dramatics released. "They live like kings."

"I'll politely decline," Quinn assured quickly. And that had Xin inhaling sharply, even Hyeon seemed surprised. She struggled to explain. "The opportunity is good," she began. "But I'm not suited for city life. Not after everything."

"He doesn't care, he'll keep you safe. Out of trouble." Hyeon told her, a smile on the corner of his lips. He saw right through her then, seemed to be capable of looking straight into her soul. "He's the only reason why you're not dead."

Quinn paused, considering her words carefully. "My answer remains the same."

She had to admit that not many would decline that offer. Meat was rare, difficult to find even. And for most, protein was just pests over flame. It had been a while since she had any fresh meat, with the most being salted, mashed-up paste back in Fern. And cheap ham from Float.

Mournfully, she thought back to the fresh piece Z had forced down her throat, but that had tasted like nothing from her nerves.

"Fine," Hyeon said, running his hands through shaved hair. "We can always talk about it after you've healed, and Z returns." He grinned at her, turned to Xin with a bored yawn. "Do whatever you want with her. And when she wants out, come back to me."

"Yes Hyeon," Xin nodded with a bow. Hyeon merely waved his hands for them to leave quickly. He was boyish in ways that made him seem approachable and didn't care for the respect the Omegas in the city seemed to crave. But under all that tease was a captain that Quinn knew she could never offend.

He watched her as they left, his gaze burning on her back. The knowledge of what she was destined for was thick in his eyes. He must know that the Alphas were not happy with her in their midst, must know of their adoration for Z with Xin whispering in his ear. He'd do nothing about it because if she caved, if she complained, if she went back to him begging for help—she'd be given to Z.

This had Quinn frowning, brows furrowed.

But despite his clear disapproval, he allowed her the choice, had gave her the chance to be free. And for that, she would be grateful. They could chain her to the bed, imprison her till she caved. They could torture her, kill her, and yet they had not. That made Hyeon and Z better Omegas than the one in the city.

She followed Xin, deep in thought.

The older Alpha had been quiet for most of the journey, no words were given to grant Quinn solace as she hobbled through the snow. Xin was a bystander, and Quinn knew it the moment Livia had led them all like pack Alpha. Xin might be the bridge between Alphas and Omegas, but she was not her friend. Nor was she, her caretaker.

Quinn wasn't surprised when they'd entered the kitchen to a group of angry Alphas waiting for her return, and Xin had merely stood back to watch with her arms crossed. Livia had moved to the front of the pack with hatred in her eyes. A fevered stare, so stiff and dark that the blue of her irises had seemed grey. The smell of bleach poured thick into Quinn's nose, and she felt the shiver of anxiety twist up her throat.

Fuck.