Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
I float in the warm sea beneath me, letting its ripples tickle my sides. The water swells, shifting up and down rhythmically as waves bring me closer to the shore.
It’s tranquil here. Soft and light blue.
“Shhhh.” Something heavy but gentle lands on my head, sifting through my hair. Is it the breeze? “You’re alright. I have you.”
Whoever speaks is remarkably convincing. I burrow closer to the timbre, warm velvet and soft fur rubbing my cheek. The sonorous sound vibrating under me hitches, then deepens deliciously.
“The Zortaire is going to skin your hide,” someone else mutters.
The ocean around me shifts again. “May it keep him warm, then,” the first person replies, his tone both crisp and dry. Familiar…
Cylus.
Reality barrels into me. I’m lying on top of Cylus. We’re somewhere much quieter than the Dome. And he’s arguing with his grandmother.
Mortana’s papery voice is less forceful this time, but her words halt any attempt I might make to open my eyes. “Are you sure she isn’t your mate?”
That word—mate—connects to some buried piece of me with a fierce snap. Electric and chemical all at once. Flooding my middle. Awakening the sleeping Omega hiding under my diaphragm.
She blinks, peering out to listen as Cylus exhales roughly.
“I am not sure of anything anymore.”
He thinks… he thinks he might be my mate?
But what does that mean?
Why does the word feel so right and so wrong at the same time?
“SOFI!”
A new bellow interrupts my fake sleep. Startled, I flail on top of Cylus and nearly fall—onto what appears to be my own bed.
But Zolkan is there.
He charges in, scooping me into his scratched, dirty arms without hesitation. His purr rattles to life, leaving me limp as he sits on the end of the mattress and folds me into his chest. His plated forehead rests on mine, violet eyes falling closed. He roughs out an exhale, shaking.
“You are alright?” he breathes, awed and relieved. “Norabi said you collapsed.”
Cylus sits up behind us, moving stiffly. “She did.”
Rask is much quieter than the Zortaire. Stealthy, of course. I don’t hear him at all, but he suddenly appears, landing on my windowsill and silently shaking out his wings.
Oh, thank God, I think, dizzy. They’re both here.
Rask doesn’t spare anyone else a glance, locking his quicksilver eyes onto mine. Staggering to his knees in front of Zolkan.
“Korryna,” he whispers, engulfing my cheeks with his mangled hands. “Fucking hells, are you okay? I flew here as fast as I could.”
I believe him. I also think he probably would have been better off running, considering the state of his wings—covered in claw marks and smears of dark blue blood.
They must have ripped each other to shreds—and yet, the air between them feels clearer. Zolkan even repositions me on his lap, angling my torso to let his former best friend get closer. Rask takes full advantage, sliding his swollen fingers into my hair, gently scratching my nape as our gazes meld.
If anyone thinks it’s odd for Rask to be touching me while I’m in Zolkan’s lap, they don’t comment. Norabi appears behind Mortana, both watching with what can only be described as grim fascination.
Cylus slides to the edge of the bed, peering over Zolkan’s hulking, bruised shoulder. The tightness in my lungs dissipates. My eyelids grow heavier as I sink into Zolkan’s purr, their three gazes knitting together, covering me like a weighted blanket.
The blue alpha breaks our moment of stillness. He clears his throat and stands, removing his glasses to wipe them on his pants—a gesture I’m beginning to recognize as a nervous one.
“I apologize for taking liberties, Zortaire,” Cylus says, brusque. “I was attempting to regulate her nervous system. Human females have a hormone called oxytocin, which is released when they’re held.”
Zolkan absorbs this information. His embrace tightens around me at the same moment Rask slings his branded forearm over my stomach, attempting to hug me from the front while their king holds me from behind.
I giggle before I can help it, covering the hysterical noise with my hand. Cylus’s dark eyes soften a bit, flitting over my face. “She was very afraid.”
Zolkan’s musk suddenly spikes, and Rask’s follows suit. Both tingle over me in a delirious rush. My head feels floaty, but I still turn my attention to their bloodstained hands. Trying to see who won the rings.
Zolkan notices and reaches into his half-laced breeches, pulling out both signets. With only the smallest pinch of hesitation, he offers Rask’s back to him.
Then, instead of returning his own to the middle finger of his right hand… he slides it onto mine.
“I promise you, omega, I will not accept another challenge, unless you allow it—and I will never frighten you this way again.” Dark violet eyes beam pure sincerity. His solemn oath sinks into my soul, just as the cool band slides over my knuckle.
Luminous, pewter metal stands out against my pale skin, a series of undecipherable symbols adorning the top. I only recognize the Zortaire’s crest—the one Rask wore on his breastplate the day he saved me.
I blink at it, not believing the gesture. This ring symbolizes his ability to defend his throne. His power and dominance.
And he’s surrendering it?
Letting all of that… be up to me?
Rask watches us, balancing his own signet in his palm. His eyes soften, silver beams shining into me for one intense moment before he flips me a smirk.
“Not that I’m ever in any real danger of losing,” he mumbles, “but maybe you should hold on to mine, too. Just in case.”
Rask’s ring is made of the same metal, but the tarnished, dented piece is clearly something he never removes. The grimy opals on top try to shimmer as he slips it onto my finger beside Zolkan’s.
They’re much too large, of course, but the effect is the same, their message clear. They won’t hurt each other again. No matter how much they may want to.
Fresh relief floods me. But, for some reason, I find myself looking at Cylus.
He stares through his glasses, his face as bleak as I’ve ever seen it.
My stomach twists and Zolkan reacts first, gathering me closer, turning my head to examine my expression.
When he finds my eyes wide and full of pain I don’t understand, his features crease.
With slow care, he bends to press his lips to mine in a small kiss.
It’s so sweet, I have to smile. As we pull apart, he mirrors my contentment, his violet eyes suddenly flaring with white light.
Which is right about when all hell breaks loose.
I really wish it would stop doing that.