Her dreams were odd.
Whispered words threading through, harried muttering, the static ringing like live wire pulled taut. A constant sweaty pulse throbbing in her throat as if someone had their fingers around her neck, digging hard into flesh, feeling for the slowing beat. Images slipped under her eyelids like water through mud, foggy and tasting more like memories and thoughts than imagination and dreams. Everything was pressing hard against her senses, drowning her out until she was struggling to breathe.
Rue.
Halcyon's voice.
Her chest tightened, pulse raced.
He had a golden voice—warm tones, beautiful melodies. Luminous, warm, seductive. She'd forgotten how gorgeous his voice was, the way it could settle the pace of her heart, calming her mind. She'd asked him about it once; he said it was because of his beasts, the pretty songbirds, the phoenix. Creatures with music in their blood. He used to sing her lullabies, hum little tunes. She'd tell him to shut up, not because she hated his voice but because she didn't like how it made her feel.
Rue, I need you to wake up.
His words were sharp, grating, threaded thinly with a rush of panic.
The dream twisted.
The sound of feet thundering on tiles, echoing through corridors. A hundred voices arguing, spiking into shrilled panic. The bubbling of fluid in a tank. Turquoise tentacles slapped wetly against glass. Feathers splayed, rippling in the wind. Water flowing, splashing fins, silver-blue scales. The rumble of thunder, the crack of a spark, of lightning. Too close, it seared over her vision, shadows rippling like waves. A spotlight's beam.
"What do you mean, Halcyon's been captured?"
Her chest tightened, breath caught. Something anchored her here.
"His soul," someone sobbed. The sound of knees on the ground echoed. "I didn't know they could do this. I didn't know they had the fucking technology for this. It shouldn't be possible—"
A hand slammed against the glass, the impact reverberating. It bounced in her skull; a headache throbbed in her temple. "I want them out now. In the next hour, I want all teams deployed on that planet. I want Cetus removed—"
The voices surged, messy, fear bleeding through. "Your Majesty…That's not possible."
The silence afterward was palpable. Loaded thick, a ringing quiet that pressed against her ears.
It was like watching a trial through a blindfold. And Rue squinted, struggling to see through the flickers of light and shadow. Her body jerked; her tongue flopped heavy in her mouth. She could feel her body, the weight of her limbs, distant and dulled. She could feel it settling into something fuzzy and thick, the bubble of something warm and viscous. Her mind meanwhile, was caught in this dream.
"Speak up!" a new voice bellowed, fury spreading, raw and hot. "All of you wanted a fucking say in our rule. All of you wanted your hands in our private matters. And now is the time for you to choose to stay silent?"
A wavering pause. "His Highness Halcyon should not have gone against us—"
"Should and shouldn't," another voice snarled, all feral, too vicious. "It's too fucking late for that, isn't it? Our mate is now suffering, and it is all because of your stupid plans."
Someone screamed, bones cracked, a wet gurgle.
"Can you get rid of Cetus?" the voice demanded. "Yes or no?"
The crowd went quiet.
She couldn't discern the voices; truly, they were all muffled in her ears, seeping through the cotton fog of her brain. Rue did not know who was speaking, could not place faces to tones. And her mind struggled to understand the familiarity of the dulcet and the baritone voices. She knew these people, and yet the names slipped before she could grasp them.
"Good." He laughed, sharp, almost too unhinged. "Fucking fantastic. Then tell me, why did Planet 1 not think to install a failsafe?"
"Cetus was never meant to be extracted—"
"THEN HOW THE FUCK WERE YOU PLANNING TO GET HER OUT?"
Something crashed. The crackling of flames roaring to life. Glass shattering. A scream. An animalistic roar.
"They wanted to blow it up." A new voice snapped, ringing sharp in the room, grim and flat. "They wanted to kill her. It was never a prison, was it? It was a bomb. A fucking dying star." He sneered. "You were all going to explode the fucking planet the moment those Titans arrived."
The silence stretched, vast and dreadful. Then an answer. "She's an Elder God too."
The sob burst free. "You motherfucker."
"There was a reason why our ancestors exterminated those monsters."
"And now that Halcyon is—" the voice choked on a sob. "Fuck. Fuck you all. Was Dante even a part of this?"
An inhale. "His Highness gave his consent."
"When?" The laughter after that was manic. "Before you drugged him, or after?"
No one answered.
"You criminals," he growled. "GIVE ME BACK MY MATES! GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING OMEGA—" Someone crooned then, gentle shushing. The sobs softened into sniffles.
"Planet 1 is hiding too many secrets," another said. "Now that we have come to this, you cannot work in the shadows. Tell us everything, every detail. Do not leave anything out."
"Not without Emperor Dante's consent—"
"WAR," a new voice snarled, volcanic, molten unfurling, fire unleashed. "Is an option that I am willing to take. And I will go to war, I swear it. I will do whatever it takes. If a new empire is necessary, then so be it."
"How could you?" Someone spat, the voice was aged. "The Council did everything for you. We protect you—"
"Not anymore."
A scoff. A crude splatter of hacked spit.
"The seven have always been naïve, snotty brats. Animals without basic instincts. Brainless beasts who'd fuck anything warm just to sate yourselves. We've always had to clean up your mess. I've always said that when the bitches are wrong in the head, then the mutts are all—"
A gurgle. A snap. The sound of someone choking through a closed fist.
"Shut the fuck up."
The man spluttered.
"We've always been on the battlefield, protecting you all from the Lonely. We are used to war." The voice hissed. "War against the Council will not be any different. War against 1?" He laughed. "Easy."
"Y-You dare?"
The man snorted. "We, will not stop until you tell us the truth. The truth about the Elder Gods. The Titans. The Heras. Cetus and all your fucking plans—"
Her pulse quickened. Her mind begged her to stay, to stay and listen even as terror began crawling up her spine. Her body shivered. Something was coming, something that slithered and pumped her full—
WAKE UP.
Halcyon's voice screamed.
WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP—
The dream snapped shut like a guillotine, a blade to her throat. She gasped awake, lashes fluttering. Someone was looming over her, with his hands around her throat. Her body was too stiff, too hard. She found that there was something prying her lips open, thick liquid filling her mouth. She felt as if she were sinking.
She gagged.
"You're going to be obedient," Halcyon whispered, but his voice was different now—acidic, cold. Awful. Her eyes prickled. She could not see in the dark, all she saw were shadows. "You are going to listen so closely to how different I am. And you have a reason to pay attention to me, don't you?"
The demonic shadow was laughing, body twitching and jerking like a marionette, a puppet on strings. His neck snapped, and she felt a scream bubble from her throat. And then the puppet rose, jerking forward, eyes wide with horror.
Her Halcyon.
Golden eyes, golden voice.
Halcyon's voice tore apart from within him then. "Rue, oh Gods, I'm trapped. I'm stuck. Rue, run, please RUN—" The laughter after was pure mockery, giggles like ice. Fear ran up her spine.
"He's trying so hard to escape," fake Halcyon teased. "But how can he? All he can do is play his part in my little show."
What did you do to him?
The monster smiled, revealing too many teeth. "Keep trying to find him; keep looking for him. You will discover the truth. Again and again. Spiral harder, spin faster, until your soul begs to break free."
Her eyes widened. How many times did you tell me to forget?
He grinned. "It's all just a dream, darling. Just a bad, bad dream. Call your mates," the monster murmured. "Call them. Call them all. Beg them to come to the island, beg them to save you."
I won't.
He leaned forward then, tongue out, and she found that his mouth was pouring with tar, acidic and spilling into her throat. She struggled. There were sobs, tears warm on her cheeks. He brushed them away. Something screamed in her mind, screamed and screamed and screamed.
I won't let you do this.
"It's too late," Fake Halcyon smiled. "One more time for me," he cooed. "Forget."
And she awoke with a snap.
*
She rose to a blue sky, an empty stretch of blue bleached almost white. She stared at the birds slipping through the light, sharp and angular like blades. She blinked. They were gone. Her body was pressed against wooden planks, grain cold against her skin. Salt filled her nose, and she shivered. A tremor rattled through her. She felt exhausted; it was as if she'd been running for hours.
"Rue?"
Her mind throbbed, the sound of her name tugging at something within her, like a thread seized. She lifted her hands to her forehead, it was slick with sweat. A headache was splitting her skull open, pressure building behind her eyes.
She felt like she had to remember something.
"Halcyon?"
The name slipped out instinctively. Immediately, her thoughts exploded: blood, skin, a throat torn open. A knife glistening. Her eyes snapped to the man, fingers automatically running up his throat, to the heat of it, feeling for a pulse.
"Halcyon—"
"Hey," he giggled at her touch. It disturbed her. "What's wrong?"
She frowned, sat back down, lips parting. But her heart was hammering, breath uneven. Her mind throbbed. She could have sworn that she'd been in a room with no windows. Her gaze drifted.
She was at the top of the lighthouse. There was no wind; the sea remained just as endless. The beam of the lighthouse continued rotating in an endless circle, cutting through the air in a perfect arc.
It was almost hypnotic.
"What happened?" she choked out. Her throat felt raw.
"I found you," Halcyon said, handsome face just as she remembered.
Hair curling from the humidity, mole above lip. The gorgeous flutter of lush lashes, his pale, creamy skin. He looked exactly as she remembered. Perfect. Maybe too perfect.
"You collapsed."
Something about him was so unnatural. Something about the air, the strange tranquillity in the breeze. Thick, too still, as if the world was made for him. A blink. He didn't have any pupils. Another blink. His eyes were back, dark irises simply covered by a stray bolt of light. She blinked again. There was concern now, etched on his brow. His cheeks were almost as white as snow.
"What?" Her breath escaped her, slipped out in a rush. She squinted. "How did you get here?"
"When the Council allowed me to," he said smoothly. "I came as soon as I could—"
Her eyes snapped to him, stomach twisted.
Déjà vu.
"You could have died," he said, gesturing to her ankle. Her eyes followed his fingers, stared at the smooth skin. "That wound was infected."
She squinted at him. "I dreamt that—"
"You're not well," Halcyon interrupted gently, maybe too gently. "You've been having fever dreams." He studied her. "Your head hurts, right?"
It did.
"It'll go away with food and rest." Her mind pulsed, swayed. Her skin crawled. "I came as soon as they let me." The smell of vanilla. The scent grounded her. Familiar. Safe. "Rue?" The sound of her name made her relax, unravelling her tension.
Halcyon felt like hers.
Her Halcyon.
"Where's your muzzle?" she asked.
He stilled.
A moment of hesitation.
"Are there muzzles here?" Halcyon's answer was faster this time. Too fast. A second faster than—
"No—" What?
His fingers found her hand now; thumb circled her skin, slow, intimate. "You want me muzzled on this island?"
He chuckled lightly, as if it was all a fucking joke. Her breath caught. She rose, legs jellied, a strange sensation rising through her. It was as if she had stepped into a scene she'd already played out. The repetition frightened her, had her chest tightening with unease.
What was wrong with her?
"We can talk after you eat," Halcyon said. "You haven't eaten in days, haven't you?"
She stared at him. "Huh?"
"You're not well, you're not yourself," he repeated calmly, soothingly. "Your brain will need time to recover."
She did not respond.
"Your paranoia is a side effect," he assured.
She groaned, ran a finger through her hair. "Everything feels weird. It's like we've had this conversation before—"
"It's okay, I'm here," he soothed.
And for once, that did not feel like it came from a manufactured script. It sounded…real.
"I know how you feel, but your answers can wait until after you eat," he said. "Eat, and I'll tell you everything, I promise."
She didn't question the trapdoor, did not question the room that seemed too familiar. And before she knew it, she found herself sitting on the table, with a half-bitten fruit in her hand. The apple crunched in her teeth. She was still hungry. She stared at the fruit, juice on her finger.
Halcyon sat across from her, watching. He seemed to twitch ever so slightly, a dreamy smile on his lips. His eyes seemed…unfocused. She blinked. Her mind rang, alarm bells high and shrill.
"Better?" he asked.
"I guess…"
She dropped the fruit. Déjà vu had evaded her now; but she felt poised for something to go wrong. She could feel it waiting to happen. Her eyes ran to the knife, then to him. He was going to pick it up. When was he going to pick it up?
"Halcyon," she frowned, hands running over her neck. "Are you hurt?"
His lips twitched, a smile showing.
His incisors gleamed.
"Of course not."
"I swore you're—" Her head pulsed. She groaned, rubbed at her temples. "Fuck it, you're right. I'm just all fucked up from whatever the fuck you injected me with."
"Injected?"
"You drugged me to heal me, right?" She motioned to her leg. "Makes me feel like I'm in a shitshow."
"What kind?" He cocked his head to the side, tapping fingers on the table. The room felt as if it were shrinking, walls pressing down. But his voice drooped. "Baby, you're always pushing me out when you're scared."
"I don't feel scared," she insisted. "I just feel…Off."
"It's the fever," he insisted. "And all the time you spent alone here, with no food and water. It does things to your mind." He stood slowly then, chair scraping against the ground. It was sharp enough to make her flinch; her hands twitched, itching to cover her ears. "See?"
"What?"
"Your mind is just so paranoid."
He approached her, reaching for her face. And she should have run, pulled away. Something inside her roared that this was where everything would go wrong. His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away tears that she did not know had spilled.
"You're shaking," he whispered. Her hands flew, clasped tightly together. Her body seemed poised, prepared for something her mind did not understand. "Rue," he pleaded. "Please, it's just me. Just your bunny." And that calmed her, memories surfacing, vanilla and freshly baked bread. The gentle alien huddled in the thickest sweater. The alien who held her through her Heat.
Her mind calmed. "I know."
He leaned closer, there were circles under his eyes as if he had not slept in years. "You need a guide."
"What do you mean?"
"Guides do not just take an Esper's rampage. Sometimes they need us too."
She raised a brow.
"Just one harmless kiss," he said. "It'll make you feel better. It can work both ways. One kiss for you and me."
The horny fucker. She snorted, but oddly his words calmed her. His need to kiss her in this fucked-up situation was just like the Halcyon she knew. She glared at him, finger on his chest.
Idiot.
"Put your dick back in your pants. I'm still mad at you, and that knife on the table? I'm weak now, but I could use it."
"Rue—"
"Let's see if you even have a dick when we leave this island—"
"I'm not lying," he said, holding her hands. She slapped his fingers away. "Look, don't you feel better when you touch me?"
"I'm not dying, you're not dying—"
"Rue," he raised his hands up in surrender. "I swear. I swear on the moon that you need this."
She looked at him then, really looked. Eyes combing his features, the shiver of his pupils, the tremble of his skin. She swallowed. The sweet taste of apple flavoured her tongue. The strangeness pulsed in her throat. There was something weird about him. And yet something in her felt desperate to press itself close to her Alpha—
"Fine," she grouched.
He grinned, swept up close, cupping her face with both hands. His thumb traced her jaw as if she were something precious. His eyes were on hers, and something within them burned, desperate and intense. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."
She didn't answer, leaning in instead.
Their lips met, soft, chaste. Familiar. It erased the strangeness, the paranoia. Relief blossomed within her, and she melted into him, tasting the vanilla, feeling his heat engulf her. And then his kiss deepened, his grip tightened, his lips moved with hunger, chasing her tongue. A mire of wet heat. Her heart was soaring up into her throat. His Alpha purred. Her cunt dripped. Her Omega writhed within her, pleasure throbbing, heat growing in her lower belly. She gasped; he swallowed it down.
The room flickered, her eyes snapped open, felt tar on his tongue, tasted the scream. He broke free, fingers finding her shoulders. He held her tightly, tight enough for her to flinch, fingers digging deep. His eyes were wide, expression flooded with fear. Halcyon shivered. His eyes were now golden, his cheeks were red.
"You need to tell them."
Confusion sharpened within her.
"You need to tell them that he's trying to break you, not me."
"Halcyon, what?" Her gut turned to stone.
"It's a loop," he cried. "You've been here three times. You're losing your strength. In the next loop, try to kill me."
"What the fuck?" Her panic rose. "I can't."
"Promise me," Halcyon snarled. "My body is not here, Rue. It is all an illusion—"
"You'll die—"
"I'll survive it," he begged. "I promise you I will. My Alpha is strongest when your Omega is at the surface. In the next loop, when he catches one of them, you need to remember to tell them—"
"But how do I—"
"Act."
She straightened then, eyes wide as he blinked. A mere second, a lazy smile stretched across his face. She tried her best to look natural, tried her best to calm her racing heart.
The monster grinned.
"I see why they like you."
"Huh?" she blinked rapidly.
"The dirtiest tongue," he clucked. "But such a sweet little mouth," he licked his lips, eyes cold. "You've been having strange dreams."
"I-I have," she swallowed thickly. Then her glare sharpened, the last ounce of her strength forced into rage. She tried her best to stay strong. She tried her best not to think about the terror lacing through her veins. "What the fuck did you do to him?"
"Hm?"
"Who the fuck are you?"
He laughed, smile growing sinister. "You don't know me?" He grinned, lips spreading wider. "You did before." Her breath caught in her throat. "It's just a bad dream. You'll forget it all."
"No."
He snapped his fingers, and the full extent of her exhaustion fell upon her then. She felt the heat of her ankle; the pain throbbing up her legs. The burn of her dying body. The parched dryness of her throat. The ache in her belly. She collapsed.
"You—" Her eyes widened. "There was never any food."
"Of course not," he said, beaming brightly. "I need you crippled. I need them to despair." He traced a finger around his lips. "I've only got this one, and I just want more." He pursed his lips together. "But we're running out of time."
"Please." The begging spilled from her throat. "Please, just let him go—"
The monster shushed her, shaking his head. "Once more?"
"Please—"
"Forget."
A/N - Hello friends, thank you so much for waiting. I kind of fell ill, so I took a bit of a hiatus but I'm back officially. Expect to see updates every 2 weeks again. I'll try to post it up on Friday so you'll get to read on the weekends.
PS. Seven Beasts for Sloane was taken down for an overhaul, so you'll see it up again next month with a new summary.
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