Courting was an old tradition.
It was a custom passed down from the nomadic tribes of the old, but one that Omegas still followed. It was said that the Goddess herself had shaped the Alphas and Omegas in the silver light of the moon, creating the two from scent, offering and longing.
Courting was a replica of such a creation. And so, to court another was to offer more than just affection. It was a representation of tying two souls. The lovers would gather tokens—polished stone, a hand-stitched charm, a hunted bone; the items were delicately steeped in their essence, in their scent.
A notice of intent.
Her stone was the same, drenched lightly with their perfume.
If the first gift was a question, then the second was a confirmation. A ring created from wild, dried grass plucked from the place they met. Woven feathers from a bird they loved, fluffed and collected to create beds and pillows. Furs from a hunted animal to keep them warm. It would be deeply soaked in more of their scent, providing a piece of themselves to their lovers. And a representation of what good mates they could be.
The final gift would be shakily offered from the Omegas as a final declaration of love. Something that would seal the deal, and if Quinn were to agree to it all, she would gift them something too, something precious, sacred. It would symbolise acceptance.
An answer to their hopes.
A final shared agreement.
When both gifts were received and kept, it would be a quiet, primal yes to the claiming, to the bite, to a bond deeper than words. They would be mated by instinct, by need, by something older than time. But the more resonant the gift, the more likely it would be accepted.
In the past, gifts were a competition. Many could court the same person, and so for the giver, the offerings became a risk, a vulnerability. Rivals would scent their offerings with desperation, painting the ground with blood to drown out the others. To win the favour of their lover was to be chosen, and to be chosen was to be changed.
Even in the shattered echo of the lost world, the Omegas still honoured the tradition. It was not necessary for Quinn to accept the gifts, the care, the love. And even if she did, it was okay for her not to provide a gift back at the very end. Courting was a gentle cultivation of sincerity in a relationship. And so it was okay for her to take her time to understand her own feelings and to consider the weight of the situation.
It was like dating for marriage.
But the final result was always a claim.
Helios had once courted his six, he explained. He had quietly slipped it to them. A pebble the colour of Zen's eyes. A snag of fabric with the scent of his arousal for Icarus. A wildflower pressed into a letter to Solar. A dagger for Rowan. A mug of sweet tea for Elysian. A book for Klaus. Questions that were answered with love.
And now, to Quinn, he would begin the courting process again, not because he needed to. He'd scratched his cheek at that, guilt in his eyes, but because he wanted to. They all did. The stone felt heavy in her pocket for what it represented, and her heart was pounding oddly in her chest.
Soaring.
Quinn groaned. She was tired, concerned for their safety, desperate for sleep and a break. She just wanted to get them all home. Exhaustion burned through her as she took another step, weighed in her throat. She just wanted them to be safe.
A shriek slammed through the air, sharp, startling.
Sudden.
Too sudden.
It had her rushing forward on the stairs, heart burning in her throat, pounding too hard as she sped to the front of the team to protect them. Her hands reached out to push Rowan behind her. Something was wrong, and she silenced the squeak from his lips with a palm to his mouth. Her pulse spiked in her throat, limbs burning.
They waited in agony.
Float had not sensed the Lonely, had not read that there were monsters in front of them. And she quickly understood why, with her body pressed against the door to the final stairwell that led to the roof. The thing that lingered behind the final door was a fucking fairy with magic, and an anomaly.
Just like the wolf in the wastelands.
"Alpha," the being sobbed. Its voice was like broken glass, screeched high and warbling, soaked with despair. "Alpha, where are you?"
An anomaly, a Lonely that spoke. Her brow deepened. A fairy with magic. It must have disguised itself, cloaked in some old spell, protected itself from death. Because even now, from the panels of blue that should have sensed everything in her path, all she could see were the pulses of sound. The sweep of steel and shadow, the concrete was sweating from the dampness in the air. She could see everything in there, but there was no pulse from the creature. There was not a single trace of a body, of warmth from a heat signature, of dripping ink.
It was incorporeal, like a ghost.
It was wrong.
Old enough to fool every scanner, every tech, every instinct. She couldn't see it through Float, merely pulses of phantom limbs scattering like static in her senses. But it flashed every so often, enough to be real.
Fuck.
She turned to press a finger to her lips to the three. The monster was close. She motioned to them to get ready to move, to run.
'I'll kill it,' she gestured, lips mouthing the words. 'But I need you all to go straight upwards and out onto the roof. I doubt there are more anomalies, they do make some sound. And Float can pick up the noises within a certain radius. I'm pretty sure it's just this one.'
'Can we take another path up?' Rowan motioned back, brows digging low. 'There must be other ways.'
'No.' She shook her head. 'It'll take too long, and I can tell that a helicopter is coming fast. A couple of minutes more, under three. Listen carefully.' They were silent for a moment, but they could hear the rumble of beating propellers growing closer, louder. 'They're here.'
The relief and joy flashed in their eyes.
'But the problem is it'll attract too many monsters with how loud it is. And if it has to linger for too long on this roof, then we'll be in trouble. So, I need you all to run up and launch the flare when you see it. Notify the team and get on as soon as possible.' She pressed the gun into Zen's hands, another set in Helios's. 'The Lonely will eventually swarm, so we don't have time to waste. And once they all creep up here, we won't have another chance. We'll be stuck in this city.'
Their eyes widened, suddenly seemingly understanding the danger.
'I know,' she motioned, 'that it all sounds very dangerous. But I am confident and I know what I'm doing. It is your best chance at this point. This is the hardest part.'
Helios's lips moved, and a hand grasped her wrist. 'I trust you.'
'If we're lucky,' she smiled at them, 'I can get the fairy's head, and the mission will be a success.'
Rowan glared at her then. 'Don't do anything stupid.'
'I know, I know,' she lifted her hands and turned to the door. A quick kill was necessary, and a sword of blue flashed in her hands.
'Can I help?' Zen pressed his hands together in a plea. 'I can try to explode it—′
'No, you're all not well enough for a battle, and the space is too small, too dangerous for us all to be attacking at one single monster. I'll kill the Lonely quickly with Float, and meet you all on the roof,' she answered. 'It won't be too hard.'
Rowan's hand was on her shoulder then. 'Be careful.'
'I know.' She turned to them, bracing herself against the walls. 'Ready?' They nodded, arms raised, and she kicked the door in with a slam.
The stairwell reeked of rot and copper; the final arch upwards to a door to a roof that streamed with broken light. The thing was skeletal, half ghost and half bone, it stood blocking the steps, body twitching as if its bones were not its own, skin flickering on its face, hair floating on its head.
It turned, a ghostly dribble of ink flowing from its features, something strangely human in its eyes, in ancient voids that focused upon her and only her. This Lonely veered from blank ink to ghostly blue.
And it screamed.
"An Alpha!" it crowed. "An Alpha!"
It lunged and Quinn met it head-on. Her dagger hissing free in the air. She ducked from its attack, pivoting to slash, electricity tearing through old muscle, through protection spells, through the lies of flesh. The monster shrieked, convulsing as its limbs seemed to triple, ghost-like as its wings flashed, just as angelic as Helios's.
"Go!" she roared at them, twisting the blade deeper.
The trio did not argue, boots slamming up the stairs as they bolted past. And for a brief moment, in the darkness with her knife deep within the Lonely, Quinn wondered if it were better for her to slip back into the shadows. For her to disappear into the ruins of the city. Now would be the best time to run, to leave them, to be free.
Zen would have access to her blood in the city, collected mercilessly by the kings. And Rowan couldn't be sure that sex was the answer, could he? Surely, Klaus would have prepared everything, have everything under control. Surely, they would eventually find a cure, considering their new realisation that hearts were not the answer—
But they needed her, a voice in her head reminded her. If Rowan's right, they might need her alive to survive. And maybe, just maybe there is happiness waiting for her back home.
They love her.
They would be sad to see her go.
She did not want them to be sad.
She quelled the thoughts of escape then with a snarl, determined to kill it and leave. But a dagger in the heart of the monster did not seem to do the trick, and the creature screeched as it left, galloping towards them. A wail in its throat. Quinn followed, its blood scalding on her hands, breath like fire in her throat.
Fuck. Why the fuck was it following after them? Why the fuck wasn't it dying? She surged forward desperately. The new plan to leave was thrown out the door. She had to make sure they were safe, had to make sure that at the very least they could escape.
The door to the roof exploded open, sunlight searing hot, merciless with the wind. Outside, the sound of propellers was loud, almost deafening. She could see the helicopter swerving in the sky. Someone had launched the flare gun, and the smoke was red in the sky, twisting in the air. The Lonely in the city were howling, and she could hear the tremor of claws on concrete.
They were coming.
Her boys were at the edge, the helicopter growing close, and a rope swung from it, hanging from the door. Rowan and Helios were climbing, pulled up quickly to safety, but Zen lingering at the bottom like the biggest idiot. There was sweat in her eyes, which she blinked away—
"Omegas!" the stupid fucking monster wailed, absolutely insane. "How could you leave your Alpha? How could you let her stay with me?" It turned to her then, ghostly wings trembling. She hadn't noticed then, but it was cradling something to its chest. A skeleton with ribs that flared too much, broken. The Lonely roared.
She shoved another bolt of electricity through its flesh, and yet it remained alive. It continued, trying to snap at her, snarls erupting through laughter. Fuck. She could hear the monsters climbing up the scaffolding, thundering up the steps, coming after them all. Her gaze fell to Zen, who stayed, holding on to the end of the rope, swaying at the edge of the building. Her anxiety rose. Why the fuck was he putting himself in danger?
"FUCKING GO ALREADY!"
"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU! I WON'T LET THEM LEAVE WITHOUT YOU!" Zen wailed. "RUN! RUN AND JUMP!" Fuck. That fucking idiot. She cursed. He wouldn't go without her. She broke free from the immortal monster, running hard, blood sticky on her hands, ribs screaming, lungs roaring. She reached the edge and she didn't stop, eyes on Zen, who had climbed up high into the helicopter, watching her.
She fucking jumped, hands out to grasp at the rope. Her lifeline from the sky, thick, golden, and swinging. She watched as Helios's wings swept open, the panic roaring through Rowan's lips.
Time seemed to stop, freezing as she caught the rope, burning on her fingers. And then the monster was on her, a blur of claws and shrieking. Its teeth found her skin, biting deep into her flesh, ripping through her. The pain was white and endless. Her scream seemed to shatter in the wind.
And then there was a roar that seemed to split the sky.
Gunfire pelted down from the helicopter, round after round of unforgiving, precise bullets. The creature's chest burst open, black ichor spilling from its throat. It seemed to disintegrate in midair, shredding as it held onto the rope, disappearing into a rain of bone and ash from the unravelling spell.
"No!" It wailed, hands gripping the skeleton, tears in too human eyes. "Not my Alpha. Not my Alpha!"
It was quickly dead, hanging on the last rung, its body swaying with its hands still clasped around the skull of its Alpha. And her limbs trembled, lungs heaving as if close to collapse. Blood was pouring from her side, and her vision stirred. Not now. She begged.
Helios's voice called for her. "Quinn!" he wailed. She heaved, fingers reaching for the next rung. She couldn't leave her crybabies alone. Their stone weighed heavily in her pocket, swinging against her leg. She couldn't leave them—
A single bang.
The world tilted.
Something bloomed in her chest, wet, hot, violent. Weakness twisted through her as she blinked upwards, disoriented, horrified. To the person with the gun, to the one who had killed her.
Klaus, standing alone, his face was stone. Rifle raised, eyes locked on her. No emotions, no apology, no hatred, no rage. Just the calm, coldness of a man finishing off a liability. The blood poured, blossoming all over her clothes like a flower. The rope slipped from her fingers, weakness trembling through each limb. She could see the others screaming, reaching from the heavens.
And the sky seemed to swallow her whole.
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