The first couple of days allowed her to establish a routine, and as promised, the seven did not approach her. In fact, it almost seemed as if they had vanished from the home, packed up and left to work in the offices. It was easy to relax then, without the weight of them burning at her throat.
She spent her days waking early, sweeping dirt, scrubbing floors, and cleaning rooms. Sometimes, she was sent to peel potatoes or wash produce. Quin was never allowed up the steps to their rooms, restricting her chores to the first floor, which reduced her workload. And while her meals were not of the same quality that Elysian had provided, there was always meat—thin dried fish, rice, or potatoes, and then some kind of pickled vegetable in a delicious, rich, meaty sauce.
James now no longer gave her the hard look of pointed judgement, awaiting her failure as a woman who should not know how to do chores. Instead, he nodded towards her gruffly. A finger towards laundry waiting to be hung upon the beams was all he needed to do for her to begin her work. It was then when she met her only colleague, a young, freckled Omega with a shock of auburn curls that bounced as he moved.
He beamed at her when she arrived, arms full of sheets. Curiosity was bright in his eyes. He was young, younger than the rest, young enough to have been a mere child when the rebels first began attacking. But he must be fully grown, at least 18—for he was taller than her, but held some bulk of muscles that a child going through puberty would not have. She knew he did not hold the prejudice in him when he looked at her only with wonder.
"I'm Carlos!" he grinned sweetly at her, straining to carry a basket of clothes. "You're our King's Alpha! I never thought I'd get to work alongside a woman." And Quinn knew then that he would be her only ally in this house. She didn't bother correcting him, but her lips quirked into a smile.
"Boy," James hissed, but his eyes were warmer upon the young boy. "Do your chores quietly." His gaze was hard on her then, but he left them to their own devices. Trust growing with her work meticulously done, but he was always a couple of steps away from her and would never leave her out of his sight.
"Don't worry about Pops!" Carlos cheered good naturedly, a breath of fresh air in this forsaken world. He was so different from James it startled Quinn, the way he stared at her with bright green eyes and a cheeky grin. "He's just worried that you'll slit our throats and run off into the night." He squinted at her then, tilted his head. "Will you?"
"No," her smile came to her naturally. "Where can I go? I'll just walk right into the blades of the Omegas that live next door." She paused then, clipped the fabric onto the strings. Besides, I'm employed, I'm working for money. There is no reason for me to run."
"Good," Carlos smiled, patted the laundry. "I'm just glad I've got someone to share the chores with."
There was a childlike wonderment in him, a bubbly character that came only from someone sheltered from the pain of the war. And it was easy, too damn easy, to like Carlos and get to know him. She laughed at his antics. There was nothing more from her that he wanted except stories of her time, and it was easy to like someone that genuinely wanted to get to know her.
Even if he could be a spy of some sort for the seven who wanted to garner more knowledge from her.
But Carlos answered her questions, told her of his life. That his father had been a friend of the precious King, and he had raised Carlos in this household. That he had lived this way ever since, with meat for every meal and knowing only the warmth of the home. Quinn was the first girl he'd ever met in his life, for his mother had passed during the war and no other Alpha strayed close to the kings' homes.
"What was it like in the wastelands?" he asked, eyes wide and round after learning of her history.
"Stormy, plenty of crumbling buildings," she answered with a small smile. "Bad smells from the pollution and the acid. It was difficult to find food, but we sold our goods to the Omegas in the city, which paid for things."
"Oh, it must have been so exciting," he groaned, sparkled with the rush to escape the safety of his nest. "To search for treasure in the ruins of a forsaken world and face monsters every day?"
"Only if you want to be a Lonely's meal," she told him, folding clothes. "But I knew to read the tremors in the ground, to search for their tracks," she paused then. "And to look at a pillar and consider its ability to stand. Many girls lose their lives in the weakening scaffolding, and the lack of food." Quinn paused with a sigh. "But life was good."
"Isn't it easier here?" Carlos asked, squeezed at wet cloth. "Where it's warm and there's food?"
"But there are plenty that will wish to harm me," she pointed out. "And I do not know who. Few will let a woman run free. Out there, I knew what to expect, for it was me against the world."
"I suppose," he agreed. "And there were no Omegas?" he asked.
"None."
"How did you survive?" his head tilted then, confusion in his eyes. "Don't Alphas need Omegas?" The question was genuine, as if taught to him by his father. He spoke of it in a tone that told her that Carlos believed Alphas needed Omegas like people needed water.
"Not at all," she answered. "I don't need an Omega, just as you shouldn't need an Alpha." She went back to her folding, pressed the ends of the cloth together and swept it into a neat heap. "Nutrition you can easily get from another Omega."
"But we need Alphas," Carlos answered, then paused, blinking wildly as if he'd said something wrong. "F-for children, I mean. And I hear that Heats are easier with an Alpha to guide you along." Quinn regarded him then, with pursed lips and a low hum. The knowledge was new, but perhaps it was true.
"The Kings told me I'm here to supplement their meals," she told him honestly. "And that I'll merely sit in to their Heats to provide options for their Omegas. Everyone knows that Alphas are here to help with the reproduction laws. But the Kings don't like me, I know that. " she said frankly, a hard look on her face. "They've left the moment I entered the house—"
"But they do like you." Carlos interrupted her, gaped at her as if stunned by her proposition. "They like you too much. That's why they left so that you wouldn't be afraid of them."
"I think you've got it all wrong," Quinn answered with a smile. "They want my blood and my body, but they detest me."
"You're the one who's got it all wrong," Carlos stated, turned to face her with confusion in his eyes. "They're not here because you don't want them to be here."
"They're waiting for me to be calmer," she agreed. "So that my blood will be better—"
"They're starving," he told her, a frown deepening on his brow. "They've not been able to keep down Omega blood, emotions or fluids, even from their mates. They need you and they could use you if they wanted to." Quinn watched him then; took the new information he'd so willingly given out to her and stored it in her brain. She knew that they were hungry, but to hear it from an Omega was confirmation that she hadn't known she needed. "And yet," Carlos continued blabbering on without a care in the world. "They give you two weeks to recover before their next feeding? It's torture! I can't stomach a day without blood."
"I knew they were hungry," she admitted. "I suppose it's nice of them to give me some space to get used to life here. And it'll be much easier for the fey to feed on my emotions when I'm happy."
He seemed indignant to convince her then and his eyes swept to her clothes, to the mixture she'd chosen to wear—Icarus's turtleneck, Rowan's pants and Solar's shoes. "Your clothes are from their nest that we're not allowed to touch or clean. No Omega would give it away to an Alpha they didn't like, especially to be worn as daily wear, to be dirtied by the work that you'd do. Much less to an Alpha. They gave it to you because they like you and they want you to like them, too."
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