Solar's silence was a slash of judgment. "Who?"
"Elysian."
"Fuck," Solar hissed. "You'll break him."
"His Omega will calm down, knowing that it is pregnant with its Alpha's child. The loss won't be clean, but he'll live and get better." Klaus paused then. "I can't bring them with me, they'll stop me," he nodded to the gun. "I need you to deal with things from here. If things go awry, if there's a transformation. You need to do it for me so the rest of us don't transform. You need to make that command." His voice deepened into a growl. "You have to do whatever it takes."
Solar shivered then, swallowed thickly. A quiet pause before a small voice escaped him. "You don't have to kill her." Klaus barked out a laugh. But it was not one filled with malice. Not coldness. Not cruelty. But an ache so deep it had hollowed him inside out.
"You think I want this?" Klaus whispered. "You think I wanted to kill my father? You think I want to murder people? I do what has to be done. Because if I don't do it, no one else will."
Solar's breath hitched. "They'll hate you for it."
Klaus gave him a ghost of a smile. "They already do."
Solar's eyes shifted to the ground. "I might hate you, too."
Klaus shrugged. "Good. Hate me, but stay alive. That's my fucking job as pack Omega. That's my job as your king." He wasn't a fucking monster, just an Omega of a dying pack and the king of a dying city. He was walking willingly into hell so his mates wouldn't have to. It was his duty to save them.
And he had to save them all.
And now he stood over her, the last of her breath escaping her throat. Her blood blooming like betrayal. But she looked at him not with blame, not with anger, not with hatred, but with relief.
Something caught in his throat, thick and burning.
Guilt.
And God, it burned.
"NO!"
Zen's voice shattered through the sky, broken, primal, raw. It was the sound a mate made when his lover died. The sound his father had made wishing for his mother.
Klaus flinched, watched as she was pulled into the fucking helicopter like she was precious. Helios had hurt himself just to grab her, just to prolong her impending death. He really did not have to; Klaus would have ordered his men to retrieve her corpse from the ground.
But it was chaos. Quinn was basically already dead, gasping blood, trembling and broken. Her ribs were showing at her side, organs exposed, bones revealed. If his gun hadn't done the trick, the Lonely's mauling of her body certainly would.
She was dying.
Klaus didn't fight them. He didn't stop them from crashing into her. Helios was screaming her name, hands slamming against her chest in a desperate rhythm to resuscitate. "Breathe," he sobbed. "Breathe, Quinn. Come on. Come back to me Alpha. Please."
His soldiers watched him, frightened by the situation but Klaus raised a hand. A heart, fresh or failing, was a heart. It did not matter as long as they got it chilled within ten minutes. He'd give them time to mourn before they consumed her. He told himself that, lied to himself like a fucking coward.
They were breaking, and some part of him knew that it was all his fault. But what could he do? Zen was turning. They were all turning. They were all going to die.
He had to do whatever it took to save them.
"No, no, no, baby, look at me. LOOK at me!" Rowan's voice cracked, guttural with pain, deranged from grief. "You promised me it was real. You promised." He wailed, covering his hands with his face. His sobs were broken, dry hiccups welling from his throat.
It made Klaus feel awful, bile twisting up his throat, flavouring his tongue. Klaus's vision blurred. Something was building in his chest, hot and awful. His fingers dug into his flesh.
Zen was there next, knees skidding in her blood, his voice shaking as he pressed his hands to her wounds, trying to stop the blood. "No. No. Not you. Not like this. I just got you. I just got you back. PLEASE!"
Helios's wings were still bleeding, but Klaus couldn't bring himself to interject. The fairy spoke then, a quiver twisting through the choked-up timbre. "I can't heal her." His hands hovered, panicked, helpless. "There's too much damage, too much blood. It's —"
"N-Klaus shot her," Zen's voice shook with fury. His eyes stabbed into him, tore into his throat. "H-he shot her. He fucking shot her."
The silence that followed tasted like the blade of an executioner. A pause that trembled with tension and rage. Rowan's eyes turned to him, no light, just voids of inky rage. Helios quivered, his wings twitching, tears sliding silently down his cheeks, unable to look at him. His hands were still pumping over her bleeding chest. Zen had his arms cradling her head as if she were precious.
The snarl rippled from their throats.
And then her hand, bloodied, trembling, it twitched. And Zen snatched at it, placed it to his lips with tears falling like pearls from his eyes. A mere touch, the softest gesture, a final mercy. Klaus understood it then, understood the look in her eyes. The look she gave them.
Don't hate him.
It's okay.
It's okay.
It's okay.
Blood bubbled from her lips as her lashes fluttered.
Helios began to wail, wail as the light in her eyes began to dim, fingers growing slack. A howl tore through Rowan, cracking. A scream twisted from Zen's throat. Klaus hated her then, not for what she was or who she was, but for making them cry, for turning him into a monster.
He hated her for her forgiveness.
For forgiving him.
He hated her, and yet something burned at the back of his eyes.
He couldn't help himself, the bubble of words pouring from his tongue. He felt wronged. "I had to do it," he explained. "It was time. We're running out of time. We need her heart, we're dying—"
Zen snarled, eyes flashing, fangs showing. Klaus could feel the pulse of his power swaying in the air. "We've had her heart before—"
"I know," Klaus said, voice falling into a gentle plea. "I know, baby, I know. I know she's Euodia. I have to protect you. I have to save you, I have to do everything it takes. I did this to save your life, you know I'd do anything—"
Anything.
And then something shifted. The trio stilled, looking to each other. Klaus felt it in his spine, the wrongness of it all. The sudden click of a decision made, the resolution in their eyes. He said something wrong.
No.
No. No. No.
They moved in unison. They were each now taking a spot by her side. One at her head. One at her leg. One at her arm. And Klaus leapt forward, reaching for them, horror in his eyes.
"Wait," Klaus breathed. "No, don't—"
They leaned forward.
And then they each claimed her as their own.
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