Quinn stood in the snow waiting before dawn with float humming in her ears and hunger coiling in her belly. The wind blew, ice stinging her cheeks. But she waited with Search hissing before her, and her vision distorting to highlight a moving figure.
A deer, tawny with a white throat and elegant antlers curved above its head. She hadn't dreamed of such meat. But she found him through her quest to pick up what edible herbs and berries existed in the early frost. She'd seen it on her search request for food, an elegant animal that stalked the land for food.
The snow was falling now, clumps of it as the sun drifted over the land. The wind seemed to pause, nothing moved but the drift of light through the trees. And the deer moved only closer, chewed on the remains of bark, the dry dead grass on the ground. Its eyes were bright and gold. It didn't take much for Quinn to exhale, fingers pulling on the blue hum, aimed like a bullet.
Float could snap forward like an arrow, shooting deep into the deer's flesh. And he was close enough, close enough for everything to work. But she would be patient, patient with her abilities. The deer moved closer, ears twitching.
A snap, an electric hum and blood spurted free, darkened down his throat in a steady gush. He crumpled to the ground, a meaty heap, blood pumping down his throat, steaming hot in the air. He bucked once and slumped quickly. The kill was clean. Quinn leapt forward, joy rushing forth as she limped towards the deer.
The deer was too large for her to carry, but when butchered it would be small enough to fit into her item box and its endless space. Her lips stretched into her first genuine smile. Float hissed as she tore into the creature, searing sinews and fat. She bounced to work that day, hiding glorious smiles behind her palm. When Livia took her dinner that night, she hurried to wash it all without a word.
That night at the hut, with shaking fingers she'd pulled the fresh meat out, a chunk of it removed from the slab she had waiting in the box. To a smoking pan, she dropped venison seasoned with the flavours of winter upon oil purchased from the shop. A minute or two on each side, and she ate it all hot and flavourful, standing at the hearth. The juice ran down her chin and stained her lips a glossy oily sheen.
The smell of meat was divine, curled in the enclosed space. It ached in her belly, decadent as it melted on her tongue. She'd sunk into the deepest sleep of her life in a while, sated and pleased. It had been then when true happiness sang through her when she roused the next day, feeling as if she'd struck the lottery for the first time in months.
And that happiness had continued, chirping through her daily work.
She should have known that they'd grow angry at her good mood. That they'd see secrets in her cheeks rosy from health despite the lack of a good dinner. And her spirit was unwavering despite the rising workload.
Quinn was resilient and they wanted her to fall, they wanted her gone.
No one seemed to care about her situation. So, they attacked her. And like an idiot she allowed them the chance. For behind all that hatred, wrongly placed in the hands of jealousy and the need to please. Quinn knew they were only women who were afraid and scared of being thrown away.
Float had hissed beneath her fingertips through each punch, but she couldn't hurt them. Instead, she waited, waited through the attack, the rage. They wouldn't kill her, they couldn't. And through the pain, she began to consider the thought that perhaps they might.
Perhaps, it wouldn't matter if they did with hurt blinding her vision, and blood warm down her cheeks. White noise spun through her ears, as black ink swirled in her vision. She just didn't count on Z showing up in the midst of it all like an angel.
*
Quinn supposed she would have been fucked if he hadn't arrived.
The Omega hovered before her frozen, with panicked eyes that darted all over her face. The mask remained, stretched across his features. And Quinn had come to recognise him for that, the black curve of it now more familiar than the brown of his eyes. Strangely, she welcomed it.
She knew what he thought of her—an idiot. Because she had to admit with blood dripping from a broken nose, she did feel a little stupid. There was ringing in her ears, as she inhaled and exhaled struggling to catch her breath.
Her faith in them had clung to her sticky and waiting, her belief that they'd grow to understand that she wasn't their enemy had stayed. But now Quinn didn't know with Livia's anger thick in her head, and the sensation of hot sticky blood running down her forehead and through sweat-slicked cheeks.
The world hated her.
And she had accepted that as truth.
"I suppose," she offered, struggling to stand. The Omega hovered, no longer seemed quite as strong as he did the first time they had met. His mask seemed sturdier, stretched a little further to his lips—different, concealed more. But he didn't need it truly for her vision swam. Her head throbbed. "You want your cabin back?"
"You're my Alpha," he corrected a strange quivering softness in his voice.
There was something different about the pout on his lips. Something different about the mop of curls, messy on his head and reflecting the light like a halo. The brightness of his eyes was warm, sticky and catching the sunlight until it was as if the stars lived within them. And God, she now noticed the bareness of his arms. His biceps rippled, tattooed with swirling ink that spun up his shoulders.
It was really too bad that she couldn't see his face with those familiar, familiar eyes.
His voice was melting into the haze. "The cabin is ours."
"Maybe not after today," she grinned, hands trembling as she wiped at the blood. Pain blossomed them, world spinning wildly out of control. "I don't think I can last that long." This had his eyes growing wider, honey pupils flecked with fear. He darted lower, panicked over her, hands ghosting over her flesh. And the glorious cookie scent wafted all over her, like the sweetest bakery.
"No, no," he repeated, a shaky lilt in his voice that only grew higher. "No, no, no!"
"I'm only joking darling," she giggled, feeling her sanity escape her grasp. "I'll be alright."
She stood then, swaying, pain hitting her hard as adrenaline left her. It ruined her, squeezed the air from her lungs. The agony of it all was blinding, radiating upwards until tears dripped from her eyes. Blood bubbled from her lips, spilled down her front.
It felt worse than it should be, and her body was shuddering through the spasms of it. She fell forward, but he caught her, arms around her, shoulder pressed to her cheek. She must have punctured something, must have broken a bone or two.
She expected him to shove her forward, to kick her to the ground. But Z only hauled her higher, securing his grip on her thighs. She was straddling his back now, arms looped over his shoulders. He carried her like he cared.
"The cabin," he repeated. "And then a doctor. Hold me tight." He ordered, and her fingers laced together around his neck, but they grew slack. "Hyeon—" There was a growl then, one that rippled out like honey in his throat. There was a steady pump of cookies in the air, a strange mellowness to them that calmed her down. And she felt as if she might melt into him, his body was so warm the cold seemed to evaporate from her bones. "He will pay—"
"Not his fault," she assured, murmuring against his throat, nose against his nape. An involuntary shiver shook him, and she only smiled as he took his first step, racing forward. "Where have you been?" Her words were soft as he ran, the trees blurred, snow falling. "I was…Waiting…"
She sighed; warmed slumber reached for her easily. He smelled better at his nape, and under the tang of soap and laundry was the musk of the best sort of cookies. The kind one had before bed with a glass of warm milk. She could feel his heart thundering under her, hard, strong and faster than it should be.
A strange whine escaped his throat, strained under the crunch of his feet in the snow.
"I should have stayed," he mumbled, there was despair in his voice, one that drew higher as they moved. And then an edge of something complex, a wretched gasp as he continued to speak, barely coherent. "I should have stayed by your side."
*
She drifted through the hurt, moments of lucidity tangled with sleep, and the darkness crested and fell. There were moments when her vision blurred into a kaleidoscope of light, of spots of green in the darkness. A growing pressure dug against his mind. Then there was clarity.
Through her exhaustion, through the clouds of pain and the blood loss, she began to see things. The dreams were a mess for they were the strangest thing she'd ever seen. She heard the roar from Z, and through heavy lids saw his fingers digging into Hyeon's throat. Quinn had called, whimpering for someone she didn't know.
Z had dislodged from him, a strange look in his eyes as he knelt by the bed, pupils reflecting the light as he peered at her. His hand had taken hers so easily, so strangely warm, a weak keen in his throat, and then the oddest rumble that vibrated through the air. A purr.
"Don't hurt anyone," she'd begged through it all, a weak wheeze escaping her. His fingers were large, and they engulfed her own. "Not for me."
"Shh," he'd whispered. "You'll be okay, I'll make sure of it. I'll do anything in my power."
"Doesn't matter," she'd sobbed, lost in the fever. "No one loves me. No one would care."
"N-no," he'd assured. His voice grew softer, wetter. "There will be. There will be. You're strong," he promised. "You're so strong. And you're my Alpha. My resilient, beautiful, Alpha."
Then there were moments when it was an Omega knelt by her side, cotton dabbing her wounds. Her breath was shallow, chest tight from a bandage. The liquid stung the moment it made contact, and she moaned. A hand had snatched it from her grasp and then it was Z, Z who knelt by her side. Z who applied stinging balm to her wounds that had her weeping. Z with his eyes of gold.
A third tried to spoon broth to her lips, liquid flowing down her chin. And Z had snapped. A hiss for him to leave. Then it was all just him. Just him. He was there when she cried through the fever, whispering encouragement as if he cared. He was there, changing her bandages, and feeding her liquids. He was there through it all.
The dreams were worse when he was there when she cried, arms around her, whispering about the people he loved as if he cared. "Klau's got the best smile," he'd giggled then, "dimples on his cheeks. He loves gardening, loves growing food from the ground. And then there's Ro," he mumbled. "He's scary, but deep inside he's just a baby. And he'd make sure you're always warm, and safe…"
It seemed like a dream, for an Omega could not care. And no one loved her.
It was her fate.
But when Quinn roused, drifted back into living in a bed of warmth. It was to his head propped against the frame; his arms crossed. He'd been there by her side, there all night, cross-legged upon the floor, with cookies flavouring the air. A damp cloth loose in his fingers, drooping over his arm.
The dreams were real. And God, her lips were trembling her eyes widening. With a whisper, Search appeared prompting for entry. This was a lottery, and in her head was a gamble that she begged to win.
"Search," she rasped, heart pounding, weakness trembling through her limbs, "for my soulmate."
Her vision burned, gold spinning over the figure on the bed. It highlighted and traced the dip of his nose. The curve of his masked cheeks. The feather of long lashes. The sultry pout of his kissable lips. The broadness of his back down to the taper of his waist. His legs. He glowed gold in her eyes. And Quinn's breath caught, hunched over tears welled up in her eyes, sobs quiet in her palm.
Z was her soulmate.
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