Rue
When life fucks you over, you don't stay.
You don't stand in the fire watching your goddamn house go up in flames. You don't sob and cry pathetic blubbering tears, sniffing and whimpering in torn shoes—the last of all your worldly possessions. You don't lament how badly you'd fucked up, curse the world for your own goddamn mistakes.
Nothing good would come from being a damsel in fucking distress. All you would get would be a nose filled with snot, and your mistakes staring straight back at you in the fucking face. So you leave, give the world your middle finger, and you never turn back.
And that was what Rue decided to do instead of standing in the dregs of the party gaping like a dumbass at Halcyon's fat, bouncy ass. She'd turned back to the room, duffel bag packed with the last of everything that she had. Her scent was concealed, rotting semen smeared all over her skin. Her jugs of suppressants deep in her bags—no evidence could be left for the prying eyes of an Alpha.
The trek out of the party was a tad humiliating. No other partygoer had homeless written on their foreheads just as Rue seemed to have. Not that they seemed to care with tongues down throats, alcohol warm in their bellies, and contraband slipped between fingers. But she supposed to her fucked up anxiety-pumped mind, it must feel as if everyone was looking at her. And she swore they were, with smirks and half-smiles, their eyes following her every move, stuck on the bulky weight of her belongings.
But of course, someone had to stop her two steps out the door. His hand on her wrist tugged backwards as if he cared. And it had her chest jolting, her pulse spinning in fear. Head turned there was only one gorgeous face in view with his brows twisted up like he gave a damn.
Her lips twisted, pursed tighter. Seraphim, decked in the softest blue silk and jeans. Seraphim, with creamy glowing skin and eyes that were never lined with the coal of exhaustion. Seraphim, who'd tried to fuck her up bad. God, he deserved a jail cell, but she supposed with what she'd done to him he could try to press charges too. And he'd win, maybe they would share a jail cell for the night.
Something insidious hissed from her throat, held back it only made her fill to bursting.
She pulled back with a snarl. "I don't want to talk to you. I'm not in the mood to play nice."
"Where are you going?" he replied, blinking; his eyes seemed wider because of the paleness of his pupils. There was concern in those eyes, concern that she didn't like. And his voice only grew tighter, colder, sweeping through the air and laced in the wind. It curled fingers around her throat, then threatened and burned. "Stay."
She let out a laugh, and turned to face him head-on, a tilt of her head. "You know that doesn't work on me."
His lips parted. "But—"
"I could be leaving to visit my Omega?" she rolled her eyes, "staying out because of my Rut?" This had him gaping at her, mouth opening and closing like the fish he was. He pursed his lips, biting plump flesh, eyes darting down as if he knew.She snapped. "What?"
"There's space in my room…" he mumbled, fidgeting. "You could take my bed." He caught her gaze, eyes locking with hers. "I don't mind." Goddamn, he'd seen it all. Rue's scowl deepened. It seemed that news spread fast, and the gaping hole in her wall was tonight's best entertainment. Perhaps, they'd all watched, had seen Halcyon prowling the grounds, and had all shared a laugh at her idiocy. She was a clown in a fucking circus, and Rue hadn't even known. "But I share with Dante." His gaze darted back up to her. "He'll be nice if you—"
"Oh, please." Rue sighed. "You think I'll stay, with you?" She rolled her eyes. "You wanted me dead!"
"No! I don't!" He gasped as if scandalized, as if he hadn't tried to kill her. "A-and I—I didn't drug you on purpose," he began to explain, stuttering over his words as if he were nervous in her presence. "Anything I cook, or touch will contain my poison. I just—It's not something I can really control. And I know you won't die because I've seen—"
"Bullshit, you didn't know if I could take it. Not giving a damn is intention man," she growled, cutting him off. "Besides. Nothing can harm me, can it? I've already experienced a Poseidon's cum on my fucking hands. Who knew it was that potent." Her eyes were hard, glaring, hostility brimming. And he gaped at her, a strange flush on his cheeks. It only grew redder, stained the pretty pink of his cheeks.
"It wasn't supposed to happen," he licked his lips, the rouge deepening. "Y-you were the one who touched me. You tried to cut my dick off. I didn't—"
"And whose fucking fault was that?" She gave him a hard look which he avoided swiftly. "I could have died. I could have turned into fucking dust."
"Please, please listen." He was almost begging, the plea was a whimper in his throat. He moved, cornering her briefly. "I—I know you don't know anything about Poseidons and our poisons. I know you're not familiar with our customs and culture. And I understand now that everything I've done is new to you because you don't know that I'm your—"
"Sera—" she ran a hand through her hair, a low sigh on her lips that wasn't quite as hostile. It seemed to startle him, a rush of red running over his cheeks, but it got him to look her in the fucking eyes. "I know who you are." His eyes went round. "And I know exactly what you want."
"Y-you do?"
"I know you're high up there. I know that most people give up their lives for you every damn day. And they want to because you're a prince or something crazy that I can't smell."
She cracked the kinks in her shoulder, and felt the duffel digging into her flesh.
"I know it's normal here for guides to die for honour and money. And I know they love to do it for you. I know that all the guides in your life will happily spread their fucking legs the moment you look at them. I'm just the first one to beat you up and call it rape. And fine, I'm sorry for that, just didn't know I had an invisible sticker on my forehead saying, 'free anal, come get me,' the moment I joined this goddamn degree."
Seraphim stared, expression twisting as she spoke. But she silenced him with a raised finger.
"But you had not an ounce of concern for my life you dickhead," she hissed.
"No, no, I do."
"Look," Rue turned, hands on her hips. "I might have so much damn debt that I'm swimming in stress, sweating my pits off and shitting 24/7. But I'm going to pay it all off, alive, alright? I'm not here to die for my family's fucking honour. I'm not going to have them cry a couple of crocodile tears over my dead body. Give me a ten-credit funeral and live the rest of their lives on the billions I'm sure you'd pay them to shut them up." Rue snorted then. "Tell me you didn't think of that the first time we met."
"I..."
"I guessed as much."
Seraphim paled; lips pursed into a thin line. He opened his mouth almost as if to argue but she continued with her rant. Because God, she was just so mad at the entire fucking world, so damn fucking mad. Rue loved coin and she would do anything for credit just to live. And to be honest, if Seraphim hadn't been such a crazy bastard, she might have agreed to the entire thing if the price was good and his tongue had been sweet and silver.
But he was an untrustworthy Alpha, a pompous bastard who had not cared for her life until her fist had met the pretty slopes of his gorgeous face. He could speak of his voodoo shit, talk about their future like a love scammer losing his edge. But there was no way in hell Rue would believe his shit.
Money could be made, but truly how much can one earn from an alien who'd considered using his voice and his poison first over the age-old method of simply just gold? Her eyes narrowed, arms crossed. And could someone truly be that stupid as to believe that an Alpha could impregnate an Alpha?
It all seemed like a bad joke to her.
Besides, fucking would reveal her Omega nature, and anything related to eggs seemed entirely biological. He'd find out her true sub-gender easily the moment technology meant for fertilisation grazed her body. This had her features growing stony, fist clenched.
He'd report her to the authorities, and get a good amount of respect and gold for all that whistle-blowing. There was no reason for her to trust him not to tell the school. And that meant that giving him access to her bare body might lead to her expulsion.
Plus even if she tried, allowed him to fuck her ass with a fake dick in place to hide her truth...He could potentially get her pregnant. She didn't really know how Poseidon's eggs worked, nor did she know how Ruts were like with Aliens from the top ten planets of the universe.
And that was a whole new can of worms she did not want to open.
Rue growled, lies dripping from her tongue. "I'm here because I want an easy life. A desk job. I want to be slouching with my ass on a seat and air-conditioning blowing in my face. I'm just going to make a crazy amount of cash and leave. And that's all I fucking want. I know most guides fuck and die, and they love it. But I don't, so fuck off!"
"And you can do that!" he interrupted. And his eyes glowed, almost seemed to drip and spill, darkness flooding the empty voids of blue, handsome features lined with purple and blue. For fuck's sake, did the light rays of the damn party really have to illuminate his godly face that way? "You don't have to guide anyone else. I can give you all of that and more." His cheeks grew darker, blood roaring in pretty cheeks. Warning bells were ringing in her head. God, why the fuck was he so nervous? "If you're…" He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet, lashes fluttering. "If you're w-with me."
"Ah," she flinched backwards, rage escaping her like a deflating balloon. Her eyes searched his face, read his body language and only saw truth.
Oh fuck.He was that smitten by her different response; had lost his heart to a guide with an attitude, a guide with a need for consent. He was loving her difference. Rue shuddered. Maybe she should have pretended to be a doormat, slumping to the ground on her knees the way he wanted everyone to. Maybe she should stop trying to piss Alphas off because this was not the first damn time.
"Dude—"
"Poseidons see the future in the water," he explained, speaking so fast it spilt from his lips in a messy line. His panic vibrated off him in waves as if he knew what she'd say. And he only grew closer, seemed prettier, his hair fluttering liquid-like in a phantom breeze. "We see something that is bound to happen and will happen. But we can't see everything so I'm always searching for more information. And it comes as we learn and experience life. So, I didn't know you are my true—" he struggled, tongue flopping then shook his head. "But I know that we're supposed to happen. I know for sure that we are something, and that was why I made that mistake. You will have my children—"