Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Rook
Istood outside the safe house apartment, listening to the approaching footsteps. The Bureau extraction team had brought them back an hour ago, and I'd been stationed here since, standing guard while Fenric filed his reports and Milo tended to Horrace, who'd been frantic since Winter's departure.
The elevator doors opened, and I caught their scents immediately. Winter's familiar scent and old books mingled with Zane's electric, storm-like aura. But there was something else, something that made my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.
They smelled of each other. Of sex and blood and intimacy.
My jaw clenched so hard I heard my teeth crack. I'd known this was coming. Had sensed the connection between them growing stronger with each passing day. But knowing and smelling were two very different things.
They rounded the corner, Winter flushed and slightly disheveled despite her obvious attempts to look casual.
Zane walked close beside her, his usual cocky stride more careful now, favoring his left side where I could smell the lingering scent of magical injury beneath fresh bandages.
His eyes met mine over Winter's head, and something passed between us, acknowledgment, challenge, understanding.
I said nothing as they approached, but my nostrils flared involuntarily, taking in more of their mingled scents. Winter noticed, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what I could smell.
"Rook," she greeted me, her voice carefully neutral. "Everything okay here?"
"You reek of sex and blood."
Winter's cheeks flamed brighter. Zane's smile never reached his eyes.
"Nice to see you too," Zane hand settled protectively at Winter's lower back.
The wolf inside me snarled, clawing to get out. I fought it down, keeping my expression carefully blank even as rage boiled through my veins.
"The apartment's secure," I managed, my voice rough with the effort of control.
Winter nodded, clearly relieved to focus on something other than the tension crackling between Zane and me. "Thank you."
She moved toward the door, but I didn't step aside immediately. Our bodies were close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, could see the pulse jumping in her throat. Her gray eyes met mine, questioning, uncertain.
"Rook?" Her voice soft.
I stepped back without a word, allowing her to pass. As she moved by me, her scent washed over me again, of Zane. The wolf howled in protest, furious at the other male's claim on what it considered ours.
Once Winter was inside, I turned to face Zane fully. He leaned against the wall, watching me with those mismatched eyes that saw too much.
"You going to hit me?" He was calm. "Because I should warn you, I'm already injured."
"That supposed to stop me?" I growled, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
Zane shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement. "No. Just thought I'd mention it."
The casual way he stood there, smelling of Winter and blood and satisfaction, made something snap inside me.
I lunged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall.
My eyes shifted, vision sharpening as the wolf rose closer to the surface, and I felt my canines lengthen into partial fangs.
"You knew," I snarled, my face inches from his. "You knew how I felt about her."
To his credit, Zane didn't struggle or try to break free. He met my gaze steadily, unafraid despite the claws now pricking through my fingertips.
"Yes," he admitted quietly. "Just like I know how Milo feels about her. And how Fenric watches her when he thinks no one's looking."
I growled low in my throat, the sound rumbling up from my chest. "She's not a toy to be passed around."
"No, she's not," Zane's voice hardened. "She's a grown woman who makes her own choices. This wasn't just me, Rook."
The truth of his words only fueled my anger. I knew he was right, Winter wasn't some passive object I could claim. She had chosen this, chosen him, at least for now. But the wolf didn't care about human reasoning or consent. It only knew that another male had touched what it considered ours.
"You mad because I got there first?" Zane's voice dropped lower, challenging. "Or because she wanted me too?"
Red tinged my vision as rage surged through me. My grip tightened on his shirt, claws tearing through the fabric. "You have no idea what you're playing with, fae."
"I'm not playing," Zane's eyes flashed, one blue, one green, both glowing with ancient power. "Neither is she."
I slammed him against the wall again, harder this time. Tattoos began to appear on his skin, glowing with fae magic as he prepared to defend himself. The air between us crackled with power, wild magic meeting primal fury.
"Stop it! Both of you!"
Winter's voice cut through the haze of anger. She stood in the doorway, her expression a mixture of fury and hurt.
Neither of us moved. My claws were still embedded in Zane's shirt, his magic still shimmering across his skin. We were locked in a standoff, neither willing to back down.
"I said stop," Winter's voice was dangerously quiet now. The blue markings on her arm began to pulse, responding to her emotions. "I'm not some prize for you to fight over."
Shame washed through me, cooling some of the rage. Slowly, I released my grip on Zane's shirt and stepped back, my features shifting back to fully human. Zane straightened, his own magic receding, though his eyes still glowed faintly.
"Winter," I began, not sure what I was going to say.
She cut me off with a sharp gesture. "No. I don't want to hear it. Not from either of you."
The hurt in her eyes was worse than any physical blow. I'd seen her face down cultists and inter-dimensional horrors without flinching, but now she looked at me like I'd betrayed her somehow. And maybe I had.
"This isn't a competition," her voice shaking slightly. "I'm not something to be won or claimed or fought over like dogs with a bone."
Zane winced at the comparison. "That's not what this is."
"Isn't it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks exactly like two supernatural alpha males having a pissing contest over territory."
The accuracy of her assessment stung. I looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
"I care about both of you," Winter's voice softened, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable.
"And Milo, and even Fenric with his bureaucratic stick up his ass.
And I refuse to let this prophecy or your egos or whatever this is," she gestured between Zane and me, "ruin what we've built together. "
The silence that followed her words was heavy with unspoken emotions. I risked a glance at Zane, finding his expression as conflicted as I felt. We'd both screwed up, letting instinct override respect.
"I'm going to go back inside," Winter finally said when neither of us responded. "When you two are done being idiots, maybe we can talk like adults."
She turned and walked back into the apartment, her shoulders stiff with anger leaving Zane and me alone in the hallway.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The rage had drained away, leaving behind a hollow ache in my chest. I leaned against the opposite wall, suddenly exhausted.
"She's right, you know," Zane finally broke the silence, straightening his torn shirt with a grimace. "We're being idiots."
I grunted in reluctant agreement. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Like what? Me and her? Or the fact that she has feelings for you too?"
My head snapped up at that. "What?"
Zane sighed, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. "Come on, Rook. You can't be that oblivious. The way she looks at you when you're not watching. The way her heart rate spikes when you get close." He shook his head. "You must have noticed."
I had noticed. Had caught the subtle changes in her scent when we were alone, the way her pupils dilated when I stood too close. But I'd convinced myself it was just physical attraction, nothing more. That our kiss had been a one time thing.”
"It's complicated," I finally spoke, the understatement of the century.
"No shit," Zane snorted. "Four supernatural protectors, one prophetic vessel, and enough sexual tension between all of us to power a small city. 'Complicated' doesn't begin to cover it."
Despite everything, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. "When you put it that way..."
A crash from inside the apartment interrupted whatever tentative truce we were forming.
We both reacted instantly, rushing through the door to find Winter standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the remains of what had once been a coffee table.
Horrace was wrapped around her shoulders, all twelve of his eyes wide with alarm.
"I'm fine," she held up a hand before either of us could speak. "Just lost my temper a little."
The blue markings on her arm were glowing brightly, pulsing with barely contained energy. Milo stood a few feet away, looking both concerned and impressed.
"She was telling Horrace what happened and when she got to the part about the cultists, well..." He gestured to the shattered table.
"Sorry," Winter looked embarrassed. "I'll replace it."
"Don't worry about it," I found myself saying, my anger forgotten in the face of her distress. "Bureau furniture. They've got spares."
She smiled slightly at that, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. Horrace made a musical sound, his tentacles patting her cheek in what seemed like comfort.
"I should check your bandages," Milo looked at Zane, professional concern overriding any awkwardness. "Magical wounds can reopen if not treated properly."
Zane nodded, following Milo toward the kitchen where the medical supplies were kept. Their quiet conversation faded as they moved away, leaving Winter and me alone in the living room.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I watched as she absentmindedly stroked one of Horrace's tentacles, her gaze fixed on the broken table.
"Are you okay?" My voice softer than I'd intended. "Really?"
She looked up, her gray eyes meeting mine. "I killed two people today, Rook. Cultists, but still people. Turned them to ash with a thought." She swallowed hard. "So no, I'm not really okay." It was catching up to me.
The vulnerability in her voice cut through my remaining anger like a knife. Without thinking, I moved closer, stopping just short of touching her.
"It was self-defense. They would have killed you and Zane without hesitation." I touched her hand briefly.
"I know," she nodded. "But it doesn't make it easier." She looked down at her hands, at the blue markings that pulsed gently against her skin. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm becoming the weapon they all think I am."
"You're not," I reached out again, unable to stop myself, and lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet my gaze. "A weapon doesn't care who it hurts. You do."
Her eyes searched mine, looking for reassurance or understanding or something I wasn't sure I could give. Horrace watched us both, his twelve eyes blinking in sequence as he observed our interaction.
"I'm sorry," I spoke after a moment, dropping my hand. "About what happened in the hallway. With Zane."
She sighed, some of the tension leaving her body. "I get it, you know. The territorial thing. It's part of who you are." She gave me a small, sad smile. "But I need you to understand something, Rook. I care about you. A lot. That kiss we shared meant something to me."
My heart stuttered at her words, hope flaring briefly before she continued.
"But I also care about Zane. And Milo. And yes, even Fenric, when he's not being a total bureaucrat.
" She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in the gesture.
"I don't know what that means or where any of this is going.
But I do know that I can't handle you guys fighting over me like I'm some sort of prize to be won. "
I nodded slowly, understanding even if my wolf didn't like it. "I'll try," I promised. "No guarantees, but I'll try."
"That's all I'm asking," she reached out and squeezed my hand. The contact sent a jolt through me, a reminder of what we'd shared and what might still be possible.
From the kitchen, I could hear Milo's gentle instructions as he tended to Zane's wound, their voices a low murmur of comfort and care. The scene was strangely domestic, a moment of peace in the chaos our lives had become.
Winter followed my gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. "We're quite the team, aren't we? A werewolf, a half-fae, a necromancer, a bureaucrat, and whatever the hell I am now."
"Don't forget the inter-dimensional horror with jazz hands," I nodded toward Horrace, who responded with a musical chuckle.
Winter laughed, the sound easing some of the tension between us. "How could I forget? He's the most normal one of us all."
I found myself smiling in response, unable to resist the pull of her happiness even as my wolf continued to growl in discontent. This wasn't what I wanted—sharing her attention, her affection, with others—but for now, it was what I had.