"You wanted to talk about this." She raised her empty glass. "With alcohol."
"What were you before the wastelands?" He asked, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed thin. And she blinked, a rush of the panic he so yearned for entering her eyes. But it faded soon after, her body leaning against the wall.
"Don't you have records? Every female must pass a test to get to this stage." Suspicion grew in his throat.
"Answer the question."
"Boring stories," she told him, licked the corner of her lips and yearning rushed through him like a storm. He trembled, oddly steaming between his legs, oddly hot. Her scent pooled, calm and cat-like, soft and sweet. And yet he wanted her like he wanted air. "I found myself in the wastelands running. There was an Omega in town. He took me in."
"Ah," he breathed. "So that's your Omega—"
"He was an old man, Klaus. Even the Alphas wouldn't touch him. Tom was kind," she smiled with a shrug. "Burnt, a victim of war with his scent glands and reproductive parts ripped from his body. But he sold me out when I wanted to run, didn't want a life in the kingdom."
"You wouldn't have survived in the wastelands." His Omega bristled at her words, and the need to protect her spiked in his throat, and it grew as his eyes flickered red. But Quinn simply smiled, swirled her glass with thin dainty hands, kissable hands.
"Maybe, but I survived for three years."
"With a running, stable civilisation. You would have been in danger." It was odd that heat flooded his voice, and his veins popped over skin. "You could have gotten yourself killed and eaten by the Lonely."
"That civilisation was a cesspool of crime," she told him. "I stayed far away from town in the bowels of a forgotten city. I'm safer in the wild where it's just me and the animals. Even the Lonely are honest," Her eyes shifted, dazed with thought. "All they do is cry and yearn for hearts." The weight on Klaus's shoulders seemed to grow, a pinch in his chest and he was desperate to change the subject then, prodding at her words.
"Where were you during the matriarchy?"
"I do not remember my life before the wastelands."
"Liar."
"You can check with the fey. A taste and they should know if I'm lying." She shrugged. "I've never hidden this fact. Pretty sure it's the reason I could climb ranks so quickly. Because I've not met an Omega aside from Tom, and the fey knew it when I answered all their questions."
And she was right then, his brow deepening as his mind flooded with memories of her files, stamped with amnesia and defects. She did not have Ruts and was impartial to Omegas. They had the scent of Heat pumped into the air and yet she'd remained impassive.
Her story was marked as an undocumented girl—they had plenty of those, a young by-product of war, made worse by her status as an unwanted Beta. Potentially, she was a child of one of the poverty-stricken districts. But Quinn wouldn't be capable of an Alpha's command, couldn't have possibly forced a man to his knees. So his people hadn't pushed further, didn't care to scour records for traces of her existence. And with death stamped all over her future, Klaus shouldn't care too.
Yet his Omega yearned to push for more, wanted to learn of her history.
"A convenient story."
"You don't trust me," she cocked an eyebrow, mouth curling upwards. "Because I treat your Omegas the way they deserve to be treated." And he reared back, flushed hot at the way she'd tapped the nail on its head. "Would you prefer it if I acted like the Alphas that you know?"
"It's repulsive," he snarled, eyes flashing, nose flaring. "That you try to be better."
"I don't. It just makes things easier."
"You waste your time. It could be as clinical as you wanted it to be, it could be systematic."
"Perhaps," she nodded. "I could do things unwillingly, with a sour expression and rage, or a bored look on my face. I could write a checklist." She exhaled. "None of you have been that nice to me." His lips curled then, a sniff as if it were all her fault.
"If you kept it strictly clinical. It would be faster and easier."
"Harder," she corrected. "I'd much prefer pretending to be a fool."
"A fool?"
She smiled then. "I want to pretend I'm in love."
His breath caught in his throat, eyes sharp, horror growing. And suddenly his Omega was thrashing within him, suddenly he was warbling on the tipping point. The fantasies arrived quick in his head, shifting strong and violent. It flooded him, words repeating, mind swimming. Love, love, love. "You—"
"I don't expect more, no mates, no lovers. Nothing serious," she assured quickly, palms shown. "But I thought if this were my last chance, I'd like the experience. The feelings one would experience mated to an Omega. To drown in touch and pretend it was all real. I'd like to lie to myself so that this isn't so hard. Just wonderful memories and no regret." She closed her eyes and tilted her head.
The taste of those words was bitter in his throat. "You're surprisingly naïve."
"A silly game," she waved her hands. "One you have nothing to worry about. Does it matter what I feel?"
"I don't fucking want that," his eyes caught hers then, stared long and hard. "I want it as methodical as it can be. I want it cold. This is just a fucking meal for my wolf." And his lips twitched and curved upwards, voice rippling into a snarl. "It is unbecoming and unsightly to be a woman's object of affection. And what lies between us should only be necessities. You should remember that. Keep your thoughts to yourself, my mates—"
"Are grown and will know what to do," she remarked, rolling her eyes. "None of them truly like me. They hate me, every one of them hates my fucking guts. They want me gone, but they need me, that's all. Everyone lies. I'm smiling right now, but you know what? Maybe I just want to leave. Maybe, I don't actually want to do this, but I have to."
He was quiet then, silenced by her words and unable to speak.
She sighed. "We're all just lying to one another. The truth is, I just want to have a good time." She shrugged. "It's easier tricking myself, pretending you're someone I want than to think about all the horrible things."
"You've wanted someone?"
Her expression danced, a flicker of vulnerability. "Just fantasies, unknown figures. Once when I could dream, I believed I would have a soulmate."
"A…soulmate?" The term was old and archaic, and his mind drew forth an old dusty book that rested at the corner of his library.
"Two halves of a soul, connected by fate, destined lovers. Someone who could be just mine, I just wanted a family to call home." Her eyes slid to the side. And it was odd that his Omega purred at those words, bubbled forth. And he caught himself before it could spill free. "But dreams are just dreams, and I've grown up." Her eyes caught him in a steady gaze. "So, what would you like today?"
"A kiss," he told her, fingers clenched. "Do not cross the line."