9. Oberon
The sun barely crawls above the horizon, but its timid light is already too harsh for my liking. Rook’s place comes into view, a safe haven of concrete and steel against the creeping dawn. I’m leaning on the front steps, waiting, when they finally show up—Rook, with his usual swagger, and Aisling, looking like she’s been through hell and back.
“About damn time,” I grumble, pushing off from the cold stone. Relief washes over me in an instant, though I keep it off my face.
“Sorry to worry you,” Aisling says, her voice a rasp of weariness as she steps closer. She’s trying to hold herself together, but I can smell the need rolling off her in waves—it hits me like a punch to the gut.
Her heat’s coming soon…I can practically taste it.
“Looks like you two had a night,” I comment dryly, eyes scanning hers for any signs of what they’ve been through.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Rook replies, scratching the back of his head, eyes darting away for a second.
“Sure,” I say, not buying it for a second. Aisling’s scent doesn’t lie, and neither does the tight line of Rook’s jaw. “What happened?”
Aisling hesitates, and I see the shadows of something more than just fatigue under those grey eyes. Something raw and aching. “Let’s just say it was a long night,” she murmurs, and there’s a tremble in her voice that makes me want to pull her close, shield her from whatever ghosts are clawing at her back.
“Come on,” I say softly, reaching out to brush a strand of blonde hair from her face. Her skin is cool under my fingertips, but the connection sends a jolt straight through me. If she notices, she doesn’t show it, just nods and lets out a breath she’s been holding too damn long.
“Let’s get inside,” Rook murmurs. “I don’t like being out in the open…not after what happened.”
We all walk through the front door, and I close it behind us, locking it. The morning’s creeping in, too bright and cheery for the mess we’re dragging home.
“Spill it,” I mutter.
Rook leans against the wall, arms folded, his face a mask of controlled calm that’s about to crack. “Had some company on our way back from the morgue,” he starts, glancing at Aisling then back at me. “Just some Eclipse thugs roaming Celestial Hills and looking for a fight. Thought they could corner us.”
Aisling takes a step forward, her voice steel-laced but quiet. “They didn’t account for Luka.” There’s a flash of something fierce in her eyes, a storm brewing beneath the calm. “He was…”
Her brow furrows like she doesn’t know how to describe her reunion with Luka—after two months, I figure it was a lot.
“Helpful,” Rook cuts in, a grim nod following his words. “Took them out before they knew what hit ’em.”
I let out a low whistle, impressed despite the knot in my stomach. “Good. Good that you’re both safe. Luka’s a good guy to have at your back in a fight.” My gaze lingers on Aisling, and I can tell there’s more she’s not saying, but now’s not the time to press.
“Anyway…I need a bloody shower.” Rook peels himself off the wall, looking like he’s had his fill of everything the night threw at him. “You two, talk or whatever.”
He brushes past us, each step heavy, leaving a silence that begs to be filled.
“Come here,” I murmur, reaching for Aisling. My hands find her shoulders, fingers pressing into the soft material of her jacket as I pull her close. Her body fits against mine with a sigh, like she’s been holding herself together by sheer will and is finally allowing herself a moment of weakness.
“Oberon…” Her voice is a whisper, wrapped in a weariness that echoes through the room.
“Shh,” I hush her gently, chin resting atop her head. “You’re shaking.” My hold tightens just enough, a silent promise that I’m here, that I’ve got her.
It’s not much, but it’s all I can offer when the world outside our door is a constant threat.
“Thanks,” she breathes out, her hands gripping my shirt, clinging to the moment, to me.
“Anytime, Stargazer.” I keep my voice low, steady. The nickname slips out, one that I rarely use, but it feels right—feels like her. “I’ve got you.”
The city wakes up outside, but in the close air of my quiet living room, it feels like the world’s holding its breath. Aisling’s grip on my shirt tightens, and I feel her tremble. Her head’s still tucked under my chin, her body a line of tension against mine.
“Hey,” I murmur, tipping her face up to look at me. “How’s Luka doing after all that? You seemed…was it rough? I’m listening.”
I catch the shift in her eyes before the dam breaks. Tears spill over, carving wet tracks down her pale cheeks. She’s a raw nerve, frayed ends sparking with emotion.
“Bad,” she chokes out, voice thick with grief. “He’s…he’s not himself, Oberon. The eros—it did something to him. And he told me that Gunnar…” She swallows hard, the effort etching lines around her mouth. “I think he’s spiraling too. Luka said he’s been spending time with Nero Rossi, but he lost track of him.”
“Rossi?” My brow furrows as I pull her closer, if that’s even possible. That name’s a grenade with the pin loose—Nero Rossi’s the kind of trouble that doesn’t knock.
“Yeah.” A shudder wracks her frame, like the weight of the name alone is too heavy. “I’m scared for them, both of them. If Gunnar’s mixed up with Nero, this is all gonna get a hell of a lot worse.”
“Look at me, Aisling.” I tilt her chin up, making sure she sees the resolve in my gaze. “We’ll handle it. We always do.”
Her grey eyes are stormy seas, and I’m reaching through the tempest trying to find her anchor. It’s a mess, the whole damn situation, but right now, the only thing that matters is the omega in my arms coming apart at the seams.
“Listen,” I start, my voice rough from a night spent on high alert, “this mess—it’s not on you.”
“Cut the shit, Oberon.” Her words are razor-sharp, her voice doesn’t waver. “This is on me. Every piece of it.”
“Hey—“ I try, but she’s got that look in her eye, the one that says she’s miles away and sinking fast.
“Every bad choice, every wrong turn. I’m at the center of it.” She pushes back from my chest, standing her ground, and I can see the fight in her despite the tear tracks staining her face. “I’ve played into our enemy’s hands every time, haven’t I? Let my guard down, given myself over…”
I can see her spiraling, see the panic in her eyes. Images come unbidden to my mind—things she’s describe to me from New Eden. Aisling in the dark, her clothes torn, Luka out of his mind and rutting her while she cries…
“Enough,” I cut in, firm but not unkind. I step close again, refusing to let her lose herself to the despair, the trauma. “You didn’t ask for any of this, Aisling. You hear me?”
There’s a fire in her grey eyes, kindling behind the storm clouds. “I should’ve seen all this coming,” she insists, her fists clenching at her sides. “I should’ve known better.”
“Coulda, woulda, shoulda,” I say, shaking my head. “It doesn’t change where we are now.”
The sun hasn’t even bothered to climb all the way up yet, and here we are, in the thick of it. Aisling’s standing there like she’s carved from ice, her voice a blade slicing through the quiet.
“Until yesterday,” she says, her grey eyes drilling into mine, “it never occurred to me that maybe none of you actually want me. Maybe it’s just the perfume, the eros.“ She laughs, but it’s hollow, void of any real humor. “Hell of a thing, huh?”
“Stop,” I say, stepping closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her despite the chill she’s wrapped herself in. “You think I’m here because of some chemical high? Because your scent hooks into me?”
I reach out, my fingers brushing against her cheek, and she doesn’t pull away. Her skin’s soft under my touch, her breath hitching just slightly. I lean in, and when my lips meet hers, it’s like a silent promise, an oath that doesn’t need words.
I pull back just enough to speak, my forehead resting against hers. “Aisling, I’m with you because you’re fierce, because when the world tried to grind you down, you stood up taller.” My thumb traces the line of her jaw. “Because you fight for those who can’t, and because when I look into your eyes, I see something worth risking it all for.”
“Oberon,” she whispers, and there’s a tremor in her voice that tells me I’m getting through, that maybe, just maybe, she believes me.
“Look at me,” I insist. “I’ve had my share of warm bodies, fleeting pleasures. That’s not what I’m after with you. What we have… it’s raw, it’s real. And hell if I’ll let you doubt that, not even for a second.”
The air feels thick with tension, but it’s not the kind that suffocates—it’s the kind that promises something raw, something real.
“Every day in Dreamland, I’d watch you,” I confess, voice low as if the walls have ears. “You were caged, but your spirit? It was untamable. You had this…light. Even when they tried snuffing it out.”
She pulls back slightly, and I catch her eyes searching mine for the truth. The gray of her irises is like a storm brewing over the ocean—wild and unpredictable.
“Kind and brave,” I continue, my hand finding its way to tangle in her blonde hair. “That’s what you are, Aisling Faye. Not because you had to be, but because it’s who you are.”
“Oberon, I…” Her words falter, get lost somewhere between her lips and mine.
“Shh,” I say, leaning in to seal her hesitation with another kiss. This time, it’s deeper, hungrier. She responds with equal fervor, her fingers digging into my back through the thin fabric of my shirt. Our breaths mingle, hot and desperate.
“Tell me you feel this,” I challenge, my lips trailing from hers down to the tender skin of her neck. “Tell me it’s not just our bodies talking.”
Her hands roam over my chest, curl in my t-shirt.
“It’s not,” she gasps, arching against me, and I can feel her pulse racing under my mouth. “It’s not just that.”
“Good.”
Hunger surges through me, an alpha primal instinct that demands I claim her over and over again, to show her she’s wanted for more than what her omega status could ever dictate. My hands explore her curves, committing every inch to memory, while her soft moans fill the silence of the apartment
We’re lost in each other, everything else fades away—the danger outside, the complex web of our relationships, all of it. Right now, there’s only Aisling and the undeniable truth that she’s under my skin, etched into my bones.
And I’ll be damned if I don’t prove it to her with every touch, every kiss, every whispered vow—
“Damn, you two—get a room.”
Aisling stiffens in my arms, and I can’t suppress the growl that rumbles in my chest. Slowly, reluctantly, I pull back to look at Rook, standing in the doorway with an eyebrow cocked and a smirk playing on his lips.
“Already in one,” I retort, but there’s no heat behind it.
“Right.” Rook rolls his eyes, leaning against the frame. “Just came to say the world’s still turning out here.”
I pull her closer to me anyway, my hand on Aisling’s lower back…and I watch Rook’s eyes shutter for just a moment, his lashes flickering, his lips parting. He wants her. Even though he can’t scent her, even though he’s just a beta…he wants her as badly as I do.
I clock that, file it away.
“I could use a nap after that sleepless night,” I murmur. “Ais—wanna join me?”
Rook’s mask is back up when I look at him again, but Aisling’s hand is in mine, pulling me toward the stairs.
“That’s a great idea,” Aisling says. “I’m beat.”