Beginning of Chapter 38

Quinn

The first step outdoors had her scrutinising her surroundings and quickly, violently, learning the city's truth. There was a distinct lack of its usual golden glow; the streets were silent, the spaces crusted with old, heavy untouched snow. The people were huddled so deeply in their homes that demise seemed to fester in the shadows. And with the howl of the wind came the dart of bloodshot eyes in the darkness, like hawks tracing their every move, like frightened shadows waiting for death.

Every door was hammered with planks of solid wood, every window barred. There were blood stains splattered upon the havoc of old destroyed stores, fading parchment fluttering upon glass and rotting produce soiling the ground. Fear destroyed them all.

The city was afraid.

Mere weeks later and the chaos had upheaved their sense of normalcy, pressed their regime to its limits. Seated in a car rolling luxuriously up the hill to Azarius, Quinn could now observe the disparity. The ache of a disease that flooded its people with fear. And now, the kings wanted to play pretend, set up a ball to appease the frightened, to settle the minds of the rich that would spread their doctrine.

They had to be strong, and as their infamous Alpha, she had to be weak.

Her guesses were a gamble so sharp it'd almost had her losing her cool, souring her scent that they inhaled so deeply. But she knew she had to try with the knowledge that her body was flavoured thick with her anger and their guilt. They would not be able to tell her lies mixed with the truth.

Quinn was not sure if she could find another like that beast. Strangeness was not uncommon with the Lonely, each more unique than the other. But that story had sparked in her mind as she made her deal, had fluttered to the forefront of her thought like a reminder. It had been one of her firsts. She had seen the Lonely just weeks after her arrival, with her thoughts still clouded with Euodia and her sanity cracking from her ordeal.

Quinn had been assigned a team to teach her their ways. That group had been fucked up— piled their bags upon her weakened body. They'd shoved her share of the loot into their pockets with laughter bubbling from their tongues. She'd trudged on like a slave, barely following if not for Float. Greed had forced them deeper into the ravages of an old village, and within it, she'd seen the wolf.

They'd all deemed it a wild dog. Those existed in the wastelands, broken animals from the past. They hadn't seen the drip of ink splattering from its muzzle and had not prepared for the battle that would devour them all. The wolf had sunk its teeth into the necks of her team, feasting on heart after heart. Finally, it came upon the leader of her crew with a snarl. The woman had been begging, sobbing when teeth sank to bone. A final swallow and the monster had spat inky blood upon the ground. A man emerged from the wolf, naked and whimpering—a werewolf, a beast, a monster.

Quinn had stared from her place, in the crevices of the ravine, hidden panic breath under a shaking palm. She understood then that the Lonely were not just rotting creatures, stumbling zombies. And not all of them held the same humanoid form. Float had hissed from her fingers, a blue dagger of energy, she'd kill it now if she had to. But the words that flowed from its lips had her freezing, waiting, watching.

"No," it'd rambled. "No, no, no." The insanity had been sharp in its eyes, but a strange calm had settled upon its being. It had stared up into the sky with tears. "Why God? Why put me through this pain, only to lose it all? Why teach me the truth only when she's dead? Why make me this monster?" It'd wept. "It hurts, my heart burns." It'd turned to the dead woman in his arms, tongue lapping at the bite on her neck. "M-my mate," he'd whispered. "I love you." The wolf had flung himself off the cliff, body battered upon the rocks, arms around the woman he'd just killed.

Dead.

She hadn't thought of it after, had only remembered the crawl back to civilization. The other Lonelys after that had been like the rest, rotting forms, crazed monsters that ate heart after heart. Some fucked the corpses they killed, dying quickly after, but none were quite as dramatic as that wolf. Quinn had deemed it an anomaly and closed that chapter of her life. But it seemed that her story had struck a chord. And as she told her tale, calculative and watching, she'd noted the quickening of breaths in the seven, the shuffle of feet, the nervous gulp. The pallor that grew upon the faces of those who could not hide their feelings.

Quinn was closing in on the truth.

She'd encroached on a secret topic. Hearts, her mind twisted to Carlos the words he'd left her in parting. They think I'll eat your heart. It had inspired her. People would do anything when afraid. It was an easy assumption to make, and she assumed quite quickly that it must be true that fanatics were swallowing the hearts of the Alphas, killing them all in fear of the change.

But their response frightened her now. The silence echoed after her words. She could smell it in the air, the growth of their guilt. If she didn't have Float monitoring the surface of their vitals perhaps, she wouldn't have known. But the danger had roared in her throat.

They might try to eat her too.

But they needed her.

They must.

If the seven had wanted her heart, they'd kill her the moment they met. Why keep her? Why feast from her so desperately? She'd shook her head when the thought had approached like a knife slicing into her throat. Elysian would never have bitten her if that were the case. They'd cultivate her carefully, plump her up in a cell. Why spend time with her, why cultivate a relationship with her? What the fuck was wrong with them? What the fuck were they up to? Her smile was grim.

What was happening to the Kingdom?

But their promises were shit, and as the deadline for the contract loomed mere weeks later, Quinn was now afraid. Something was amiss with the Lonely increasing in numbers, with fear in the city. If they could watch her death sentence, then they didn't need her as much as she needed them.

And now she was winning, a deal was made, and information was gained. She was given a chance to escape, for freedom. Quinn's teeth snagged to her lip. She'd be grateful for Icarus, for Elysian. But they'd live without her, and perhaps if she played her cards right, they would help her. Her mind shuddered. But your soulmates. Her thoughts darted to Zen, to Elysian. Her heart ached. Fuck them. Her gulp was nervous, too loud. Fuck it. She could live without them, without men.

She was better alive than dead.

The ball.