Elysian
Ink.
Dark, sticky ink that clotted in his throat, spewed from the pit of his chest, and frothed from his lungs. Each breath was a struggle, scraped out of his oesophagus, ragged in his chest.
Pain.
So much of it.
The world was ending.
And his heart was on fire.
His lungs burned. Ribs shook. His vision had glossed over, tears in his eyes; the world was a smear of dancing light. He wheezed. Something was wrong. There was a demon in his chest, clawing and monstrous, a being made of grief that had swallowed his heart.
Regret.
It was a cruel emotion. And oddly, his mind relished that feeling. It focused on it, picked it up again and again just so that Elysian could burn alive from his own undoing.
His body quivered. He couldn't feel his hands. He couldn't feel anything.
The stars were gone.
Our Alpha.
Where is she?
Elysian had wanted to bring her out on a date. Just the two of them. She liked his sandwiches. He was going to do a couple of flavours—salted beef, grilled cheese, strawberries and cream. He was going to make her a tomato stew —
A rope had snapped. An anchor between two souls. The connection was lost.
She liked tomatoes.
He was sobbing.
She liked strawberries.
He wanted her to stay. There was just so much he had yet to say—
Dead.
The word detonated in his head, exploded through the bond so violently that his knees buckled and his body jerked. His mind screamed, and he felt as if he were dying over and over, again and again.
DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD—
What was the last thing he had said to her? He couldn't remember, but what he could remember were the words he should not have said. The words that now ate into his skin and tortured his mind.
Quinn, I can't love you.
Can't. Can't. Can't.
So stupid, so fucking stupid.
His heart was snapping in two.
His body begged for reprieve, but the bond had long snapped. It had been severed perfectly, cut clean. And now he was experiencing the slow, agonizing recoil. It was like a knife through his skin, twisting and twisting. A noose around his neck. A gun to the head.
He shot her.
His mate was dead.
Time slowed.
He sucked in another breath. He didn't realise he was screaming until someone grabbed him by the shoulder. His voice was frightening, tumbling out of him in animalistic wails. It horrified him, and yet the sound could not stop. His body did not listen to him. All he felt was pain, the most blood-curdling, gut-wrenching of pain. A burning ache that started in his gut and ballooned into something so horrific that he couldn't contain it inside him.
He had to scream.
And then he was throwing up ink.
Quinn.
His tongue felt heavy. His throat too raw.
Quinn.
His tears were gushing. He sobbed. He was just so confused.
QUINN.
He wailed.
He killed her. But was it really all Klaus's fault? It had been so easy for Elysian to distance himself from the situation, to say excuse after excuse, to push himself away. And then it was all too fucking late. It was always too fucking late.
Klaus killed her.
No.
Elysian killed her.
Elysian murdered her.
And Elysian wouldn't mind…He wouldn't mind….Following her.
It was all so overwhelming. He was shaking, muscles clamping, mind breaking, body giving out. Now, he was all too aware of the bright lights, of cold metal against his skin, of movement. His legs shook, thrashed. Someone pinned him down; his legs were forced apart.
It was cold.
He didn't care.
He deserved the pain, every last bit of crippling heartache; he deserved it.
The knife was digging into his chest. There was heat on his tongue, pressure to his teeth, and more blackness came out of him, choking him. Ink, grief, and his breaking bond. It felt like his insides were rotting. He gagged.
And yet, Elysian accepted it all.
The pain, the agony.
He was burning alive.
Take me, he thought, take me. Take me. Take me away Alpha, please.
He was just so tired.
His vision darkened. And then a strange hunger ignited in his belly. He was reminded of his Alpha, of how good she tasted, of how perfect she was. Elysian still remembered how her blood tasted like.
Stardust on his tongue, sunshine melting into sweet velvet and generous buttercream. Peach, with a glossy quenching juice so thick it slipped down his tongue. Decadent. A taste so rich it quelled all hunger, filled a part of his chest he had not noticed was empty.
Euphoric.
It would end this pain.
It would fill up the hole in his chest.
The massive gaping hole.
Oh, how badly he wanted to taste his Alpha and her gorgeous peach. His throat clamped despite the volley of ink that streamed from its depths. He wanted it so badly; it was all he could think of.
He would find it deep in her chest, deep inside her.
They rolled him onto his side. His mind was breaking. He tried to understand it all, tried to feel, to calm down. The hunger bubbled in his throat, an ache, a growing ache. He reached for something, for anything, his soul snapping to his six mates and then naturally groped in the dark for his seventh. But there was nothing left to hold, only static, only emptiness.
Dead.
His fault.
No, it was their fucking fault.
And suddenly, he was furious. So, so angry. Livid. How could Klaus do this to him? How could they do this to him? They knew what it was going to be like for Elysian. They knew how he felt about her. They fucking knew how much he loved —
I'm so hungry.
So hungry.
It hurts.
It hurts. It hurts. It fucking hurts—
The darkness was just so close, so inviting. The ripples of obsidian waters. Elysian could slip into it, he could dive into it, into the immense endless hunger for his Alpha. It seemed easier, so much easier to just focus on the needs of his soul. The hunger—
He collapsed.
And then his world was flooded with peach.
*
Guilt suffocated him.
He placed his hands on his belly. It was in him now. Her scent. Her peach. Fused with his own yoghurt, nestled beneath his ribs, blending like the best of spices. He peered at the bump, the gentle swell. The tiniest balloon of his flesh.
Baby.
He had to protect him.
The tiny milky scent that jiggled like soft pudding.
He had to make sure the baby survived. He couldn't afford to break. He could not think. He could not reminisce about his episode in the hospital, when Elysian walked the tightrope of death and living. The moments before he became Lonely. He could not think about his regrets, his guilt, his love.
He would not survive it.
Elysian would die.
And the baby would die.
But at least, at least his Alpha was alive.
That had tears in his eyes. Gratitude overflowed from him. His soul was still frayed at the edges, but at least now, when he reached for her, he could feel her. It kept him sane. It kept him alive.
How many mates returned from the dead?
How many mates could shrug off such a heavy sense of building grief and replace it with joy?
Elysian was so lucky.
That had more tears in his eyes, a wet sniffle as he tried his best to swallow down his building sobs. The rasping breaths of what could have been still bubble from his throat.
So, so lucky.
He could have lost more mates that day. Four out of seven. And how could Elysian have survived that? But still he wondered if his Alpha would ever awaken. He was sure she would. He stilled then, hands shaking. He couldn't go back to that place, to the darkness, to the pain, to the ink—
He wondered if his Alpha would even like the baby.
His body quivered then, a pulse of sensations running up his spine, awful as it sank into his chest and pierced his heart. He shook his head, and tried to shake out the heaviness. No. He could not think of how unnatural, how fucking horrific this all was—
"Elysian."
Helios's voice softened his thoughts. He stood stirring the pot, looking at him with wide eyes. Soup again. They always had soup now. Soup was good for saving resources and for filling people up. But they rationed the good ingredients for him and the baby, offered the precious things they could still find.
The cans.
His pregnancy was now a license for him to have the privilege of getting whatever he wanted. But what he wanted most was peach. Ripe, tender peach. They found two cans.
Just two.
He had to save them for special occasions, but today Elysian opened one. The syrup dripped over his fingers, and he bit into the slice of fruit. Tender, glossy, sweet and yellow. It helped. Nothing else did. He popped another into his mouth and chewed. The flesh was tart, warm on his tongue.
It wasn't right.
He wanted it fresher, more floral, musky—
"Are you okay?" Helios asked.
He blinked, stared at the fairy who now had an etch in his brow. Concern wrinkled his forehead and his eyes flickered, touched with gold. They shone with too much pity, too much fucking understanding. Elysian merely smiled because if he didn't…
He'd break.
"Don't let the meat burn." The fairy knew how Elysian felt, the questions were meaningless. He fucking knew how Elysian fucking felt about this whole thing—
"It's not good to bottle things up."
Elysian ignored him.
Helios frowned. "It's not going to help you if you ignore it all."
"Add the tomatoes at the end."
"I think you should talk to Solar."
"The beans have got to be tender first."
Helios sighed. "Are you really going to bury it down until the baby comes?"
"Stir the fucking soup, Helios."
The fairy went quiet, obeyed his command, but his eyes remained on him. Soft, knowing.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Elysian exhaled.
"I've already spoken to Solar." His hands shook at his words, he clenched them tight. "I've spoken to Klaus. To Icarus. To basically every fucking person in our pack. Including you." The fairy ignored the last bit.
"And?"
"And what?"
"How do you feel?"
Something inside Elysian snapped.
It fucking exploded.
"Klaus and Solar can apologise a goddamn thousand times," he snarled, voice trembling, "and it still doesn't make a fucking difference. Sometimes sorry just doesn't fucking cut it."
He inhaled, his lungs hurt.
"I understand why, I understand how. I understand what they did it for." His breath hitched. "But we were the ones who paid for it, and now—" His voice broke, shattered. He was wandering towards the edge of the cliff. "NOW I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF SHE'LL EVEN WAKE UP!"
He panted.
"Of course, I feel like fucking shit."
He sank heavily into his seat, tears in his eyes. Elysian needed another peach, he shoved a slice into his mouth. The sweetness tasted too sour now, too salty.
"I need time," he whispered, "Just time."
Liar.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Helios stared at him, eyes filled with compassion. "It's not just that."
"It is."
"You're scared."
Elysian went quiet, eyes wide. The words stole air from his lungs. Hysteria bubbled from his throat. Oh no. He inhaled sharply. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
"You're scared of what she'll think." Helios placed a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing away the tears. "Do you really think she'll push you away?"
Elysian sucked in another breath.
Fuck.
"She doesn't want the baby," he whispered, voice so small it was barely audible.
Helios's voice was gentle. "Why not?"
"It wasn't her choice," he said, smaller this time. "And after everything we've done to her," he lowered his head, voice falling into nothing. His mind spun, a recording of everything he knew of Quinn. "This…She won't—" He choked on the words. "Alpha won't want him."
"Why are you so sure?" Helios soothed.
"I know it."
*
Fear hollowed him.
As much as Elysian tried to look as calm as ever, anxiety scalded his throat, frothed up thick in his belly. He'd spent hours, no, days thinking of what he'd say, of how she'd react. He'd rehearsed it, practised a thousand times beneath the blankets of his pack nest. He said it over, and over until the sun rose and dark circles were permanent on his eyes. And still his heart raced, his belly ached.
When Quinn awoke, he felt as if he were at the edge of a cliff.
He held on to his belly because it was the only thing rooting him to the earth, the only thing keeping him sane. Despite everything, Elysian believed the child was a blessing.
He had to.
The child had saved his life.
Without him, he was going to die.
His broken soul had been inches away from the end, moments from death. And it was only her scent drifting from his skin that grounded him. But the walls were shrinking, the air thinning as he stared at his mate. And his heart only swelled with longing and desperation. How happy he was that she was alive.
And yet he was so afraid of her reaction.
Dread tumbled from him. An endless turmoil. His fingers felt numb, shivering hard. He pressed it tight to his belly, begging them to stop shaking. And Quinn stood before him, awake, alive. Well.
She was always so beautiful. His heart skipped a nasty beat. The sweetest of features, of eyes so dark they consumed him like endless voids. The curls of her hair. The plump rose of her lips. But she stared at him now, so guarded that he couldn't even see a crack of warmth in her expression. The coldness dwarfed him, and he didn't blame her.
She'd been killed by his mate.
His Pack Omega.
His family.
She didn't trust him.
How could she? Why would she? Seriously, why the fuck would she?
Elysian's heart thundered, his cheeks paled, his hand pressed tighter to his belly. The silence was devastating. Her expression seemed to fracture; turmoil bubbled, raw and chaotic. He could practically see the thoughts boiling in her head. Her mouth opened and then closed, lips trembling, hands shaking.
In the aftermath of a secret so big that it seemed to detonate in his hands, he waited for her to say something.
Anything.
Nothing.
Her silence continued.
It burned.
His breaths escaped him, hot, hard. Panic had him sweating. Her eyes were lost in the spiral of scenarios, he watched her scrape through it, bringing forth every thought, every fear. The flash of disgust scalded him like a slap. Pain blooming in his ribs, violent and alive.
Disgust?
The sight of it nearly drove him straight to his knees.
Did she hate the thought of him as the father of her child?
Did she hate him?
He could smell his mates, the way their scents seemed to rot, and he shook. He couldn't bear it any longer, breaking too quickly. He held himself tighter. His mouth opened.
"Say something," he begged. He was unravelling.
"It's mine?" The coldness in her voice frightened him.
"Y-yes." Oh no.
"How long?"
"Closing in on three," he whispered, fingers caressing the curve of his belly. Three months. Three fucking months of hell, of living, breathing and thinking of death—
"Why?"
Elysian swallowed thickly. The story danced in his head. "When you were…dying. I began to transform…To save me, I was…Impregnated." He blinked more times, tears already forming.
Disgust flashed in her eyes, deepened.
Oh no.
Her lips moved.
"You've always had my embryos."
"I—" The hurt in her eyes horrified him. "I didn't know—"
"It was me," Klaus cut in. Elysian's shoulders sagged. "All me. Elysian knew nothing."
The room was growing smaller.
The air grew thin.
His pulse thundered in his head.
Alpha hates me.
Alpha hates me and our baby.
Alpha doesn't want us.
Alpha doesn't want anything to do with us.
Quinn exhaled long and hard, breath caught in her throat. Her eyes flashed, the darkness was growing. "Fuck man." She pinched the bridge of her nose. The scent of her peach was growing duller, darker, angrier. "Is there more?" she demanded. "What else are you hiding?"
"No," Klaus said. "No more secrets."
Quinn barked out a laugh so sharp it curled in his lungs. The tension was wriggling under his skin, burning, restless, distressed. He couldn't take it. He couldn't fucking take it.
Her words shattered him.
"I can't trust you."
Elysian's breath stuttered.
"I can't trust any of you."
His panic spiralled.
Alpha doesn't want the baby.
Alpha hates the baby.
Alpha thinks we're disgusting.
We're so disgusting.
We're so—
"Are you…" His voice escaped him in a low, terrified whine. "Are you not happy?"
She stared at him then, eyes tearing into his skin, boring into his flesh.
Wrong.
He took a step back, mouth opening and closing.
He said the wrong thing; he wanted to take it back—
"Happy?" she repeated. Mocked. "You're asking me that?"
He flinched, lips parted and then closed. His voice was caught inside him. His mouth was dry. Tongue, thick and swollen. His palms were sweating, fingers fumbling. It felt as if he were floating in a horrifying situation Elysian begged to escape.
"Are you fucking serious?"
He flinched, scalded, tears bubbling.
"Quinn, I didn't mean that…" The wail crawled up his throat before he could swallow it down.
Her lips were sealed, unsaid words in her eyes. She didn't speak, and, fuck it, it fucking destroyed him when she moved past him through the door. The ghost of her presence wafted over his skin. He reached, desperate, flying forward to stop her.
Alpha please, please, please —
"Let her go," Solar murmured. "Give her a minute to take it in."
A wail bubbled from his throat.
"Elysian," the fairy soothed, clamping him down into a hug. "You know she's new to this. It's not you. I promise. Give her time. She just needs time."
Tears burned under his closed eyelids.
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