Zen
The Beta was crazy, and Zen knew that.
She was just a Beta, a woman trying to get under his skin. The Alpha that his pack needed to eat. A girl that resembled Euodia, and yet didn't the more he looked at her. It was difficult to describe the way his tormentor's features seemed to melt away, replaced by a new character.
And look he did, staring at black eyes and thick lashes, at red lips and skin that had lost their pallor of the dead and was now edged with gold. He stared at the way she smiled at the Alphas, white teeth with a small dimple on the cheek. The smile reached her eyes. Eyes that were touched with gold when the sun lit up her face, eyes that made something in his chest tremble.
Euodia never smiled like that. This was different.
A strange thirst swept across his tongue, a craving for something else. Something that would satisfy his fey, his vampire and his wolf. Something that she had. But he didn't know what. His canines throbbed, slid out, sharp and ready to sink into buttery soft flesh and pump her full of aphrodisiacs and relaxants. Zen swallowed thickly.
He squinted, perched on his branch. He wondered why he'd been so awfully impacted by her rejection; it'd been embarrassing for him. And he'd experienced it second-hand outside of those halls with his face in his hands. It had been unlike him to be this territorial. He'd blushed when Hyeon had called him out for it later with a sigh.
"She's your Alpha, isn't she? Haven't experienced mine," he'd said. Zen had apologised for his actions, but Hyeon had waved it off. "I'll do anything for my King," his best friend had winked. "You should tell her the truth, she'll act differently."
"She's rude," Zen had complained. "She talks back to me."
"Then tell her," Hyeon shrugged. "Or kill her now, whatever you want." That had Zen flinching because Hyeon didn't know that Zen simply could not kill her. For it was against every fibre of his being. It was like fighting against his own limb.
"I can't," he'd explained with a sigh. "I need her to want this for it to work. You know how it goes."
"As you wish," Hyeon sighed. "Most would enjoy having Kings for mates. Right now, she thinks you're just a soldier. It's not the same."
"It doesn't matter," Zen had answered. "She'll be intimidated by my status. I want her to like me first."
"She doesn't seem to really like you now," Hyeon had pointed out, and Zen had merely scowled. "Some enjoy riches and wealth. You could try that."
But Hyeon didn't know of her past, no one did. And Zen was sure she'd run screaming if she knew who he was. It was knowledge that came to him with surety, a violent tug in his chest. And so the mask remained, and he continued peering at her from afar, hidden as if he were a shy little Omega and not the King that he was.
Zen scowled. His mates had not been happy that he stayed out for so long. But he'd returned, with his skin flavoured with her scent and his cock hard with strange need. The juicy peach of her lingering on his scent glands, and had elicited a strange simpering from Helios. His mate rubbed his cheeks all over his skin as if he knew, and from Rowan, he'd received a hard, long knowing stare that Zen ignored carefully.
He'd been wetter than ever when he'd fucked Icarus that night, a little poutier and a million times hornier. His lover had chuckled, pressed thick fingers into the syrupy warmth of his hole and groaned.
"Something's got you charged up tonight," he'd mentioned, cock sliding in so deep his eyes had rolled back, moan spilling. It was easy to reach his peak when he was already there from just the smell of her flavouring the back of his throat. "And you smell extra good. I'd take a drink from you before I cum."
Zen had ignored that all, sweaty bangs itching his lashes. And he'd simply bounced through each squelch. Three thrusts and he'd come with a cry, cum spilling out of him like ropey hot piss all over himself. He'd blushed at it all through the strange violent convulsing that had him so much more feverish and soaking with sweat. And then blushed some more at the thick weight of his semen smeared all over Icarus's annoyed face. His lover had growled, wiping thick globes of it off his brow.
"The fuck? You wanking somewhere or something?"
"J-just miss you."
They couldn't spoil the surprise, couldn't meet her before she was ready. Zen scowled, and it was so fucking hard to get her ready. Why couldn't she be like the other Alphas that rolled over and showed him their bellies the moment he passed? Why couldn't she beg for him like the rest? Why did she have to be so difficult?
And she was only making life so much harder for herself, he'd scowled at that thought, perched on his tree. His eyes focused on her, on the group of Alphas that surrounded her. Their voices spiking. She'd done this to herself, he'd rolled his eyes leaning back with a huff. Alphas were vicious creatures, and by standing out she'd painted a target on her own damn back.
It was her fault now that she was getting bullied, her fault for trying to go up against him. Zen felt a little smug watching her pinned back against the trunk. She'd learn to be better, play nice. The blonde one seemed extra mad, a snarl erupting from her lips, fur sprouting. And this had Zen sitting up, eyes wide.
He couldn't have her killing his Beta. Not yet, the Beta was his to kill. Quinn was his to kill. He rolled her name over his tongue, liking the way it sounded. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. It wasn't that bad of a name to moan. He caught himself with that thought, blinking widely. What the fuck was he thinking of? He didn't want her in his bed, he just—He flushed, clutching his head he just wanted her beside his bed.
The sound of bone on flesh had him looking up from his insanity. The Beta was on the ground, the Alphas pouncing on her, fists raised There were others that watched, but they didn't stop them. Zen blinked, tried to feign disinterest. But his belly churned. He didn't like her hurt, and he knew she could do more, knew that she had that strange blue glow that emitted from her hands. And he waited for her to reveal it, but she allowed it to happen, allowed the punches to go on, for blood to spill.
Zen tasted her in the air, rich, creamy, and delicious. He'd kill for another drop; and he had jugs of her in his trunk. He'd been feasting on it daily, gulping it down for every meal. But it was not the same fresh from the source, and it must taste so much better flavoured with her lust. He cursed— What a waste of blood.
He scowled, finally unable to stop himself as he dropped from the trees. The Alphas leapt back, eyes wide with fear at the sight of him. On the floor the Beta remained quivering, blood dripping from a broken nose. Her eye blackened and bruised, and she wheezed through each breath. Oddly, it sent a rush of rage through him, a dance of protectiveness that Zen was sure must be his territorial nature.
"Didn't I say…" he'd growled, pheromones digging into their flesh, tearing through their bodies. They squawked, strangled. "That the Beta's mine?"
They were on their knees in seconds and gone when he waved his hands with an annoyed cluck of his tongue, disappearing through the snow. One lingered at the corner, staring back but eventually she left too pulled by the rest. He walked up to Quinn then, powdery snow crunching between his feet. She laid there, staring up at him, frock thin and blood pretty in the snow. The soft, short locks of dark hair splayed around her.
She looked dead.
For a moment horror ballooned in him, swelled and expanded so fast it had him choking through grief. He was on his knees in seconds, lips moving with startled gasps. His fingers found her wrist, warm with a pulse. The whine of relief that rushed from his lips was staggering.
"Oh, you're alright," he groaned. He wondered then if the concern was for her or for him and his pack. "I thought, I thought you were—"
"Why are you here?" she'd whispered staring up into the sky. Her voice was pleasant, a warm dulcet that sent chills down his spine. He swallowed thickly, tasted her scent in the air. The peach of her was always so juicy, always so good. But now it was a little tart with something else, and it was even more acidic with the tang of vinegar in his throat. "But thank you," she mouthed out, and he couldn't help the smile from spreading across his cheeks.
"Do you want me to punish them?" were the first words out of his mouth. He felt shaky looking at her on the ground, body splayed like a broken doll. He didn't like her like that, his heart didn't like her like that, and it constricted painfully, burned sour in his throat. He moved to grab her arm, but she sat up this time, alarm in her eyes. Quinn stared at him shaking her head as she took the broken crutches.
"No," she struggled to stand, her broken leg had a new bruise. "If you want to punish them, punish me instead. Make it a show, so that they know what will happen to someone like me." She explained, then smiled. Her beam was empty, eyes flat and cold. It scared him. "I expected you to punish me when you came back. Captain Hyeon hasn't done it yet."
He blinked. "Hyeon won't do anything because he knows you're mine." Zen stared at her then, brows furrowed. "I won't punish you because we were just having a conversation. And why don't you want me to punish them?"
She glanced back at him, considered his words then her eyes shifted into the distance. The edges crinkled, almost a little wet. "I've destroyed their sense of safety," she answered. "The system is the only thing holding them together. They were only trying to survive as the lowest rank."
"They want you dead more than the Omegas want you dead," he'd told her, had heard the whispers in the wind. "Don't you know that?"
"I know," she answered gave him a strangely heavy look. There was a moment of silence before she began to speak, moving to stand, weight leaning against the broken pieces of wood. She seemed lost then, swaying in the wind. "Us women, we're only trying to survive in this world. They just want to live. I don't blame them."
"But they hurt you," Zen stammered out, fingers itching to hold her. "That's wrong." She turned to look at him then, eyes on his frame. And Zen felt a quiver through his soul, a dance of something that spread, deliciously warm in the cold. Something that tingled and grew as her lips quirked into a genuine smile.
"You are kind."
And those words seemed to hammer deep into his soul, followed by a strange rush of utter despair.
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