End of Chapter 35

Zen

He saw them, wrapped around each other, a mesh of hands and lips. Quinn and Icarus. And like a voyeur once again, Zen lingered, mouth open, unable to speak. He'd listened to their conversation and had heard her words spilt from her lips. His body trembled almost as if he wanted to cry.

Her words.

He left me to die.

If I liked someone like that, I'd be insane.

Not Zen.

Never Zen.

No.

No.

No.

Now he was running, running to cooler air, to icy snow that should calm his nerves. And yet the tears were there twisting through each heavy, laboured breath. The jealousy was horrible and pathetic, a dull ache that pulsated in his chest. It hurt to breathe, and so he collapsed on his knees biting down a wail.

Euodia had always been his master. This might be the aftereffects of knowing that Quinn was Euodia, that Quinn was somehow the dead Beta he had once worshipped. And yet now things felt so different, so all-consuming, so intense. He didn't understand what he was feeling, what he experienced when his mind drifted to Quinn. His fingers clawed at his chest, digging deeper.

She had chosen Icarus.

Icarus must be lying about his feelings.

He must be.

Icarus was calculative, logical and spiteful. Icarus was protective, angry and Zen's. But he'd never seen that look in Icarus's eyes, the way he seemed to make the effort to listen. The way his voice had slowed into a gentleness that he had never heard before. The attempts he made to be kind.

Zen had never seen him like that; it was as if Icarus wanted to be a better person. And to do it with Quinn? He'd pressed himself closer to the door and had peaked through the glass. He had seen his mate's eyes so genuinely glowing with adoration, it had struck Zen hard enough to feel as if he were toppling to the ground.

But it wasn't Icarus's affection for Quinn that disturbed him.

It was the fucking kiss.

The kiss she had bestowed upon him, unprompted, not because of a fucking contract, not because of Icarus's needs. That kiss looked real. And the fresh tears bubbled up once again, burning at the back of his eyes. And then his mate was there, Helios, rushing in with the flutter of darkened wings, hands around his shoulders.

"What's happening? Are you okay?" his mate gasped, there were bags under his eyes. A weakness in his fingers. They were all shaken from the events, of the test of their morality. They were all broken. "Zen—"

And then Zen collapsed, vomit spilling from his lips. A dry heave and he began to sob, sob into the arms of his mate. The tears flooded his vision, an ugly wail twisting from his tongue. And he felt like he had to spill secrets he promised to take to the grave. "I love her."

"Zen—"

"If she had died, I would have died," he heaved, pressed his body to Helios's wailing into his shoulder. "I don't care," he inhaled and exhaled, all noisy, unable to breathe through the tears. "I don't care about what we need, what we want. I love her. I love her. I love her."

"Zen," Helios's voice was sharp, almost hostile. "Keep it together. Zen, you can't."

"I can't control it," Zen sobbed, begging for his mate to understand. "I can't control my feelings. I can't control how much I want her. Helios, Helios I can't. I can't. I feel like I'm dying. I feel like I could die—" And he was scooped up into large waiting arms. Klaus. Tall, strong, Klaus. He held him then, voice low, gentle, comforting.

Klaus cradled him in his embrace, and his scent enveloped him—the most decadent of chocolate, rich and thick, and distracting. "Helios, I can take it from here."

"Klaus," Zen whimpered into his palm. "What's wrong with me?"

And his mate purred, brushed tears from his eyes with a gentle hand. "This is simply the poison of an Alpha. And once we do what we must do, things will get better. I've told you this before when I first found you, when I first met you, remember?"

He did. He'd been kept in a cage, chained to the wall, and Klaus, like an angel, like a God, had entered the room to tend to his wounds. His first true love had been Klaus. But this was different, Quinn was different. Quinn was so different from Euodia.

His anxiety grew, breath escaping him in laboured pants.

"But Klaus I don't think I—"

His lover silenced him with a gentle coo. "You will be fine. Just trust me."

"But Elysian…"

Zen's words faltered, lodged in his throat. He couldn't speak of the secrets that he had learnt. That Quinn could be Euodia. That they'd feasted on her heart and still they were transforming into Lonely. What would they do to Quinn if they knew? What kind of torture would they inflict upon her body? They'd treat her like a lab rat, experiment on her flesh. And Zen couldn't allow that to happen, no, God, it'd kill him if he were the reason for her death again. And so, he hiccupped, tears flowing, tongue flopping in his mouth.

Silenced.

"Elysian," Klaus answered, not knowing that his despair stemmed from a different person, from a different reason. "Will do what he must do. I will ensure that he does not suffer from this."

"How?"

"I will find a way," Klaus promised. "A way for us to be happy."

And Zen buried himself into his chest a silent sob whimpered from his tongue.