The pack house stood a little further from the main settlement.
It sat higher upon a sloping hill with gentle winds, surrounded by thinning trees for shade and a small stream that puddled into a huge spring. A convenient water source. But it looked more like a fort than a home, with its walls built from stripped, warped metal and thick oaken logs. The edges packed with dirty pitch and cracking mud; military canvas strung over the seams for reinforcement; and hand-stacked, uneven stones ringed its base. A single lantern swung from a large wooden door, yellow flame dancing softly from within the murky glass.
It seemed more like some kind of apocalyptic makeshift tent. But it had two stories, she noted quickly, eyes darting up to the windows above. And it was big enough to be a town hall.
Smoke curled from a simple metal chimney at its head, bringing with it the smell of pine and salt. A line of clothes was strung from tree to doorway, still dripping from a recent washing. Klaus had mentioned a laundry system in 'town', but she supposed they still did their cleaning here.
The stream that flanked the fort was clearly manmade. Gutter pipes siphoned water from the forest, which they diverted into a huge well of inky lava rocks, lined with fabric to act as a simple filter. A metal water wheel spun at a corner, pumping water into the house. A clever enough system, but it was nothing like the buildings back in the kingdom. And Quinn could tell immediately that it was hastily built to keep the frost and the heat out.
It was, all in all, a ramshackle dwelling with its exterior clearly already wasting away from rust and rot.
"You made this?" Quinn asked, running her hands over a plank of driftwood on the porch. An axe and a saw hung from the beam, but her eyes caught on a whittled toy resting out in the sun, small and unfinished. A dog? But she did not ask who it was made for.
"We did," Klaus said. "Repurposed an old container unit with the team. It doubles as a meeting spot, so everyone helped. If it comes to it, we'd use this as a second emergency shelter. The hospital is first, of course." Her mind worked. They had chosen higher ground in case of flooding, a flat elevated area away from strong winds. And on higher ground, it would be easier to spot the Lonely.
Inside, a gentle heat enveloped her. The smell of herbs, good things and the salty boil of stew wafted in the air. The main room was big, clearly built for the necessity of long, late meetings. The floor was merely packed earth covered with woven mats of straw.
A long table stood at the very centre, cleverly created using plastic boards, zip ties and wires. And none of the chairs matched, some plastic, others wood or stone. A map was taped to the wall next to the hearth, red and yellow pins tagged to the already curling and grimy surface.
She could make out the sketch. Their home. The hospital. The forest. Their settlement. The dam. The lake. And then the city. But she turned her attention to the hearth at the back, a pit created using red bricks, solid stone and ash. Wood snapped softly in the fire, and a metal vent had been cut through the ceiling to funnel out the smoke. A covered pot hung over the flames, stew bubbling from within.
There was no light, no electricity here. It was all very primitive. And the whole room seemed to breathe, wind whistling through the patched walls, cold seeping through her bones from the dropping temperatures. She didn't know if it could last in a true blizzard or even the worst of sandstorms. Already, her mind was working on the things she could do for reinforcement, the equipment she could buy to improve the space.
"We sleep upstairs," Klaus mentioned, pointing to the spiral of stairs. "But there's also a bathroom and kitchen here."
Quinn sniffed. "Is someone cooking?" Her eyes darted to the doorway at the corner closest to the hearth, with herbs hanging from lines to dry against the walls, golden light spilling through. Shadows moved, and her chest seemed to throb, something pulling. The bond hummed faintly from within her soul.
"I can show you later," Klaus said, a strange look on his face. But she allowed him to lead her up the stairs. "Let me show you to your room."
The stairs were narrow, and the boards creaked with each step; the handrails were nothing but a string of rope. And through the window at the landing, she could see the rest of the settlement, the sky already darkening into a filmy grey. Dusk settling.
The window was merely plastic film packed with foam.
And that wasn't good.
Already, her mind was restless, thinking deeply, considering their situation. She could get them a pump, a real one from the market. The water wheel was bound to break in a bad storm. More sealant could patch up the holes, holding up the walls for months. Maybe even some kind of electricity or fuel would help. Solar panels would be nice. Her eyes swept to the bracing of the walls, the soldered joints, the metal sheets. Perhaps some new nails that were not rusting with age—
"The storms are hard," Klaus explained, confirming her fears. "We have to fix things when it hits, or we'll lose the roof. We've thought of working on the electrical grid, but we'll need to rework some things first. It's not the priority in our plans."
The second floor opened up to two rooms, separated by a small corridor with a single hanging lamp. The doors were merely curtains, stitched blankets hanging from wire, which Klaus pushed gently to open.
One room was filled with straw mats and heaps of old blankets, tarps and fabrics stitched over the ceiling for extra warmth. No windows, but heavy winds still rattled through the tiny gaps despite the wood panels, the temperature dropping with the loss of the sun. She stared silently, absorbing it all, eyes sweeping over the pillows and straw bed. She inhaled, tasting the sweetness in the air, the smell of her Omegas. Her Beta almost seemed to purr.
"Pack room," Klaus explained. "We didn't think to make a bed. With so many of us, a thicker straw mat seemed better. It does get a bit cold sometimes, but if that happens, we can always go down to the first floor and sleep by the fire." Her mind ticked on, the engineer within her already whispering more plans. The items she needed that she could not afford. A duvet, her Beta whispered, for their Omegas. Better insulation.
The second room was hers; separated for her privacy. And when she stepped in, surprise blossomed within her. The space was quieter, warmer. They had put in the thought to insulate it with foam scavenged from the broken walls of the city. Plastic tarp was thickly layered over the ceiling to keep the rains out, and soft mats were placed underfoot so that the chill could not enter her bones. A long, thick branch was curled over the space, hammered into the wall along with some steel beams for reinforcement.
But she was surprised by the cot, made of slick, bent wood. The bed had a pile of furs and patched blankets, stitched with pretty granny squares by hand. And it even had a wooden crate that stood at the side, acting as a table. On it was her carved rock. The stone the trio had gifted to her as her first courting gift, along with a sprig of herbs in a glass bottle. Rosemary, her mind supplied.
Raw emotions bubbled from within her.
There were signs of extra care in the reinforced vent, lined with thin rags to filter out the air. The nails that were driven down lacked the rust that the ones outside had. The window was made of glass with a double sheet of film, carefully sealed for her protection in mind, and yet with the option to push it open if it got too hot.
"This is newer," she said quietly.
"We had the time to build it."
Her heart was softening already. "You used steel here to reinforce the walls."
"Icarus made it all from an old truck," Klaus scratched the back of his head, and she found the sudden bashfulness oddly cute. "We worked on it in our free time. We wanted it to be the best room."
Her eyes wandered over the space. There was charm in it, effort spent. The cleaner seams, the patched tarp, the thicker walls. The sewn blanket. They spent more time and had intended to keep her safe from the storm. Her heart warmed, pulse fluttered. But she thought of their room now, of how simple it was, how lacking. If she had more tools, she could reinforce the floor, seal the seams with proper resin, and even buy a working filter so they didn't breathe the dust. But that was all just wishful thinking. Without enough gold, enough supplies, there were limits to what she could do.
"I love it," she said, giving him a smile. "Thanks."
"No problem," Klaus swallowed nervously. His scent seemed to sweeten in the air, a coil of chocolate circling them both. But before she could continue, a voice distracted her. Her gaze darted quickly to the shadow looming at the doorway, banishing the weakening light.
"Quinn?"
The word echoed, rough, cracking, disbelief flavouring his tongue. And she turned, heart in her throat as Rowan stepped in. His face still smeared with soot, chest heaving, sweat beading. But for a brief moment, he stared, motionless, trembling as he watched her, rigid as if he did not dare move or breathe.
His pupils were blown wide and glistening as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, panting hard as if he'd run just to get there. Emotions welling up from within her, spiralling. God. The last thing she remembered was his tears with blood-soaked hands. And the familiarity of his existence punched her solidly in the heart.
And then a broken sob spilt from his tongue.
"Quinn!"
He crossed the room, vanquished space. And then he was holding her, arms around her, hugging her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat hammering through his ribs. He was laughing and crying at the same time, sounds tearing straight from his soul.
"Fucking hell, I thought—We thought—we thought you—"
He could not finish his words. His voice cracked, and she could feel the wet heat of tears against her skin. His lips on her throat, the shivers when he pressed his nose to her scent gland and inhaled. She was plunged into his body heat, pressed against his skin, and she was warmed, rocked in his arms.
Safe and loved.
Her throat closed up. She could only hold him back, feel his shoulders shake under her palms. The heat of his skin, the burn of their bond spinning between them. It pulsed, warm, dizzying, and so goddamn radiant, like a second heartbeat thrumming alive. And, she felt for his jaw, fingers brushing the stubble, cupped his cheek. She could still remember his voice crying in the dark, but to feel him now? Solid, trembling, alive? It was all too much.
For once, since she'd woken, she felt her vision blur, her heart breaking immediately. It was too easy to cry. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm sorry I took so long." The words seemed to destroy him, for he pulled back to look at her face, broken laughter dissolving into yet another crazed sob.
Then the others were arriving, filling the space, closing in around her, bringing with them the sweetness of their scent. Helios entered shakily, wearing his emotions clearly on his face, with pink in his cheeks and tears in his eyes. His hands shook when he saw her, fingers to his lips, breath shuddering through each gasp as more tears glimmered and spilt.
"You're awake—Oh God—"
And then Zen followed, looking pale, features twisted into disbelief. Grief and gratitude rushed through him, almost seemed to electrocute him, and his knees appeared to weaken, almost tripping as he fell forward to see her. Icarus stumbled in, lips trembling through a smile, eyes just as red. And then Solar, who lingered at the back, his beautiful eyes shining far too brightly, too goddamn wetly.
None of them spoke first, with Rowan nuzzling against her hair. And then Zen laughed, voice ragged with disbelief. She was surrounded once again, arms around her, fingers in her hair, bodies pressed to her own.
There were tears, tears on her neck, on her skin, in her hair. Zen's forehead against her temple. Icarus's lips on her ear. Rowan's thumbs on her pulse as if he feared that she wasn't really there. Helios in her arms. And she could feel it all. The bond weaving through them, the threads locking and connecting, rekindling sparks.
Zen's giggle cracked through his tears. "You look like hell," he said.
"So do you," she shoved back, a small laugh echoing through. And they all did, with dark, inky veins up their necks, Lonely poison in their veins. The exhaustion in their eyes, the gauntness of their cheeks. Through it all, Klaus stood by the doorway watching. His shoulders drawn tight, eyes fierce and trembling but full of emotions that he'd buried.
When at last they all pulled back, moving to give her space. She noticed the look in Solar's eyes, the catch in his expression, the grief and relief tangled with something far too tender. He smiled at her gently, sweetly.
"I'm glad you're awake," Solar said.
But they were missing one member. And immediately, her pulse spiked.
A beat.
How could she ever forget?
"Where's Elysian?"
For a moment, no one moved, the silence pulsed, and quite quickly she understood that it was not a simple matter. That the explanation was long and awful. Her heart thundered in her ears. Her mind was crashing.
Klaus shook his head. "I didn't tell her. I couldn't."
Icarus exhaled, panic laced in his throat. "Didn't we plan for her to stay in the hospital for a day or two before she starts walking around and exploring the place?"
Klaus seemed to choke on his words then. "I just—The bond—I couldn't say no—"
Her voice lashed then. "Tell me what?" What the fuck? More secrets now?
Solar seemed to rush forward, already attempting damage control. His hands glowed, gossamer wings fluttering. "You're not well. We can talk about this after some healing, rest and recuperation. Let Helios and I take a look at you before we—"
"No, none of that shit." Her emotions snapped then, rage roaring, molten unfurling. She pushed him away with a glare, arms crossed. She didn't know why she felt so fucking angry, why her fury ballooned so quickly and violently. The terror was hard to control, and it was easy to feed it to the flames of rage. "Tell me now."
"Shit," Rowan exhaled, and then his eyes drew to Helios. "Is she well enough?"
The fairy pressed a hand to her neck, reading her emotions, fingers rubbing gently.
"She's very angry—"
Quinn shrugged him off with a glare. "No shit! Is he sick? What happened to him?"
Zen surged forward, hands to hers grasped tightly, his voice was too low, too steady. It was as if she were a wild, startled animal. "Whatever you're thinking of, it's not what you think. Maybe you should sit down first. We can talk about it over tea—"
Quinn growled, the sound oddly more animalistic than human, buzzing with desperation. And the Omegas in the room seemed to jump. A sudden tension boiled through the air, weighing upon the room, electric as it twisted from her chest to their own. A tension so boundless, so thick it rendered them breathless.
But she didn't fucking care.
She wanted answers.
She wanted them now.
Enough with their fucking bullshit and all their stupid secrets. And her panic was rising, spilling from deep withinher. A mate in danger. A mate lost. She hadn't noticed; there wasn't anything wrong with the bond. It did not feel broken. So, what happened? What was all this?
Her mind spiralled, and with it her emotions seemed to crack and roar. A tsunami wave of terror, fear, and illogical reasoning. In hindsight, it was probably her soul, reactive and crazed from the new pack bond. But at that moment, she didn't fucking care. And those thoughts seemed to spill straight through the threads that connected her soul to theirs.
It slammed into them like a storm.
A whine rippled from their throat, and she watched as Rowan seemed to almost tilt his neck as if offering submission to her. Zen was falling to his knees with Helios. Icarus was shaking in his corner. And Klaus and Solar. immediately took a step forward. But she didn't bother to question it, concern boiling through her.
She wanted answers now.
"Talk," she barked out.
Solar cleared his throat, shimmering with a strange fullness in his orbs. The disquiet was palpable, and their eyes did not simply shine with fear. They were oddly strained, cheeks flushed. "We had plans in case things went wrong. The plans involved doing anything we could to live. One of the suggestions had Elysian involved. So we…"
They exchanged looks, quick ones, filled with guilt and pain. The kind of shitty looks people gave when they had done something so fucking terrible they couldn't say it out loud. And her soul could taste it too, she could fucking taste their regret boiling in her throat.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Her rage grew, and they flinched as if slapped by her hands.
"What the fuck did you do to him?"
Helios held her then, fingers running up her arm, trying to soothe her desperately. "Please calm down, you've only just woken up, and the bond is so fresh, so new. I know it feels so bad, but it's not good for you—"
Rowan rushed forward then. "A-Alpha, you need to breathe—"
But Quinn didn't fucking care; she was shaking, she was going fucking insane. "TALK!"
Her voice tapered into a roar, and it seemed to echo over the walls, bounce through the hallway. Icarus winced. Solar grimaced. The rest seemed to flinch. When had they fallen to their knees? The sound of her heartbeat seemed to thunder in her ears. The air was too hot, too wild. Their cheeks were red, rationality was set ablaze, and now there was a strange subliminal power that she had over them.
An Alpha's aura.
"I can't think of anything else," she paced, trying her best to calm herself down. They seemed to almost grovel. They did something. Her mind began to spiral, the world narrowing to vinegar on her tongue and the ringing in her ears. She heard herself say it before she even knew she was speaking. "Is he dead? Did you kill him?"
Icarus shook his head immediately. "Fuck no. We wouldn't do that. Of course, not—What the fuck—"
Her vision swam, thoughts misfiring. "Did you—" She swallowed, bile rising. "Did you eat him?" Her vision blurred. "Good fucking God."
"Quinn!" Solar's voice cracked, horrified. "We would never—"
"Then what?" she screamed, tears biting the corners of her eyes. "What did you do? Tell me, tell me now!"
"I'm fine, Alpha," Elysian's voice echoed from the doorway. "Alpha, I'm alive. I'm well. I'm here."
And then he was there.
Elysian stepped into the doorway, bathed in the flickering gold of the firelight. He looked like himself, just as beautiful, just as heavenly. His face was thinner, the shadows under his eyes deeper. His hair was longer. And he smiled, that same soft, gentle disarming smile that had always ruined her before. But her eyes moved down, past the hollow of his throat, past the butterfly spread of inky veins, past the folds of his clothes, and stopped.
Her breath caught. Her heart froze.
His belly was swollen. Round. Heavy. And swollen. Too full for a man. The skin beneath the fabric was stretched tight, belly button popped up. He saw her look. And still, he smiled. The smell on him was milky; her Beta was…It was concerned, protective, in love. It calmed almost immediately. The fear vanished. The rage disappeared.
He was pregnant.
"Welcome back, darling," he said softly, hands on his belly.
And without a fucking doubt in the world, something within her, something primal, connected the dots. It drew conclusions, it read the feelings of her new mates who could not hide any secret in the world from her any longer.
She knew straight away that the baby was hers.
A/N- I'll be updating once every 2 weeks from now on (aka no more part 1 and part 2)
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