29. Lazarus
Lazarus
We searched out a few different small towns along the way, asking if they’d seen a caravan of people coming through. But no one seemed to be aware of any transports. It doesn’t help that we had no vehicle descriptions. Revenant flashed Iona’s picture around, but no one had seen her either.
I focused on doing my job, watching our surroundings, keeping an eye out for anything that was suspicious or maybe telling of where the community passed through. But my mind kept running back to Ruth Mary and the cemetery. Her life had ended when I wished mine had.
Hearts fallen, exhausted, and empty-handed, we returned to the Night Wraith compound.
I unpacked my bike and made the trek up to the apartment, only to be reminded, through laughter on the other side of the door, that my life does not know peace, quiet, and solitude. It hasn’t since Zephyr and Phoenix came to live with me.
And now Honey is with them. The soft little omega with rich brown hair and stunning golden-brown eyes. With her monotheist beliefs and the small mannerisms she shares with Ruth Mary, like playing with the hem of her clothes, her fingers moving along it as if they’re prayer beads.
Closing my eyes, I brace myself for whatever chaos could be lurking behind the door. But with my eyes closed, all I see is Ruth Mary’s headstone.
Frustration and grief building, I open my eyes and turn the doorknob, letting myself into the apartment.
“Hey! He’s finally back,” Phoenix cheers, throwing an arm up in enthusiasm, when I walk through the door. “How was the trip?”
Honey is seated between the twins. Her posture is immodest as she leans against Zephyr with her feet resting in Phoenix’s lap.
I judge her, the ease with which she fits in among them and how carefree she is, but I remember my place in this is to guide her to survive in the new world.
She is embracing being different to fit into the world. It’s a good thing.
“That good, hmm?” Zephyr wraps his arm around Honey, giving her a small squeeze.
Turning away from him, and the uncomfortable feeling I do not wish to identify in my stomach, I close the door and move to sit on the bench to untie my boots.
“There will be an assembly of members tomorrow. You’ll both need to attend. Honey will be safe in the bunker.” My dead-tired fingers can hardly grip the laces to untie my boots.
“She could just stay here, in the apartment, couldn’t she?” Phoenix argues with me.
“No.” I don’t explain or argue with him. Instead, the statement is as it stands. For no particular reason, I announce my departure down the hallway to my bedroom. “I’m going to clean up.”
The hallway is short, but it feels so much longer, and when I finally get to the other end, to the door to my room, I step through and slump back against it, barring it shut.
When I close my eyes, I’m not taken back to the cemetery.
My brain picks out Honey on the sofa between Zephyr and Phoenix.
It fixates on how she looked, her long brown hair hanging loose at her shoulders, leggings, like Evangeline wears, down her legs, and cute little stocking-clad feet resting in Phoenix’s lap.
The sweater she was wrapped up in was that soft butter-yellow color that the twins favor as far as lighting goes.
But her golden-brown eyes watching me stick out the most. How they watched me move from the door to the bench. I could feel them on me as I untied my boots and then on my back as I walked down the hall to the bedroom.
Her lips are that natural pink tone that makes an omega look like a gift from God, and all I want to do to her . . . It’s unholy. It would be such a sin.
My cock doesn’t care about sinning. It only cares that it lusts for her.
The way she sat between the two of them. My cock throbs, my imagination running rampant as it replays sounds I heard during her impure time.
Somehow, my hand has released my belt, undone my fly, and found its way to my cock. I squeeze the head before working the shaft. My knot throbs with want for her.
What would it be like to knot her? To share that connection with another — I let out a shaky, frustrated breath.
I push away from the door, stripping out of my clothes on my way to the bathroom. Once inside, I turn on the cold water in the shower and step under the spray, wanting it to cool the heated thoughts from my body.
Control yourself.
My shadow panics, pulling for me to escape the frigid water, rattling the glass shower door, but I stay, drawing long breaths until my teeth chatter and my body doesn’t burn with the effects of desire.
I finish washing in the cold water and dry off slowly. I make each movement matter, watching and focusing on my task rather than anything else my mind tries to wander off to.
Once dry, I dress, and once dressed, I force myself to face the twins and the omega again.
The couch is now empty, and I instantly reach for my phone to track Phoenix and Zephyr down. They could have only gone so far, but knowing the two of them, trouble would find them simply walking out the door.
I round the corner to the kitchen, and my shadow stops me, startled by Honey.
“They went to take a nap. I thought you must be hungry after your journey and made you some food.” Honey addresses me in a much more formal tone compared to the relaxed nature she exuded while on the couch with Zephyr and Phoenix.
In her outstretched hands is a plate with various samplings from takeout places all over the city that the twins love to frequent. “I was uncertain what you would like.”
“Thank you.” I resist the irrational smile threatening my cheeks and take the plate, fork, and napkin from her and carry them over to the dining table to eat.
Honey follows me, her soft footfalls so much lighter than mine. When I sit, she stands at the dining chair to my left as if waiting for me to make a demand of her.
The formality of it, I haven’t missed. This was never the part of leaving the House of Apostles that I found difficult to let go of.
With an open palm, I invite her. “Please, sit.”
Honey pulls the chair out just far enough for her to sit, and when she does, it’s with a stiff, rigid spine. Her hands are tucked into her lap underneath the table and out of view.
“Tomorrow you will meet with Revenant again. When the time comes and he asks what you wish to do, it is important that you tell him you wish to be placed with a pack who is appropriate for you. Someone who can provide for you. Away from here.” I keep my voice low.
Phoenix’s bedroom door is closed, but I don’t trust my voice not to carry.
Honey subtly shakes her head but does not argue with me. She shifts slightly, as if uncomfortable in her chair.
“They cannot keep you safe.” I caution her and further try to explain my reasoning, partial reasoning, as to why she can’t stay.
“Phoenix and Zephyr cannot care for you as an omega needs to be cared for. I see they’ve clothed you, and it appears you are not wanting for food.
But a few days do not make them competent or ready for the responsibilities of an omega. ”
“And what of you?” Her voice is soft enough that I nearly missed the question.
“What of me?” I push the question back to her.
“Are you not responsible enough for an omega?” She grows a little bolder with her questioning, raising her eyes to meet mine.
“I am not a pack with Phoenix and Zephyr. This living arrangement is nothing more than cohabitation.” I explain as I have to everyone who questions it.
Her soft brown hair, in waves around her face, frames the gorgeous golden-brown eyes that threaten to hurt me the way I’m hurting her.
Honey draws a slow breath but, again, doesn’t argue with me. After a moment, she pushes her chair out from the table, stands, pushes the chair back in, and walks to her bedroom.
It will be better once she is gone. Things can go back to normal.