Rue
Dante was going to die.
That was the reason why she had done it.
Because he was going to die and then she'd die too.
Her mind was churning, boiling with her thoughts, ruminating on her beliefs. The Rue from before had a fuck ton of strong-willed ambitions. She had wanted to make too much money, get out of 69, and become an Alpha. The Rue from before was an angry bitch who told all men to fuck off. The Rue from before was defensive and independent, spiteful and resilient.
The Rue from before would have never done that.
Two pumps would have been all she could have given him. A lacklustre fucking that was merely for the guiding. She would never have made love to him like that, allow him to suck on her clit like a beast, kiss her on the lips and pound into her like an animal. She would never know how fiercely he'd kiss her; how good it felt to be fucked like she was craved.
She would never know the connection.
The Rue from before was not a horny, desperate idiot.
But when had it all crumbled, when had she started succumbing to their wills, their demands? When had she lost control?
Her teeth snagged on her lip; eyes trained on Dante. The tether between them that pulled from her chest was abuzz with anticipation. It held a fever that bubbled from within, a curation of need. It was filled with a knowing of what it felt like to be in his arms, soul to soul. It was a cruel master, tirelessly begging her to stick closer to her Alpha, to check on him, to care for him, to know him. And Rue struggled with that thought, flames on her cheeks.
What changed?
Perhaps it began when she stopped taking those damned drugs; perhaps it was ignited when they fucked her through her first Heat. It continued when she was regularly scented by Alphas like all healthy Omegas should be; when she stopped coating herself in scent blockers; and when she had security.
Security.
Her resolve had crumbled with their wealth, the coin dripping steadily into her bank account. Rue no longer struggled. She was not worried for her next meal, no longer concerned over her mother's life and her aunties back home. She didn't have to stay on high alert waiting to get captured and killed. She wasn't a bunny in the wild waiting to be shot.
She was a fucking collared pet with a fat bed and a ton of food.
She was sitting in the lap of the most powerful in the world.
She was no longer afraid of the law.
All Rue had to do was ensure that the seven couldn't hurt her.
Oh, of course she feared the seven. But her life transformed when her mother told her she was an idiot for trying to run from emperors with the godliest of powers. Rue broke down that day. A messy pool of sorrow and rage had her fists smashing into the walls. A silent scream. Five minutes of feeling sorry for herself and she'd stood up and raided their pantry right after.
Good shit only – Lobster brioche, foie gras pâté, buttered snow crabs and miso cod. She didn't know what the fuck she ate after that—alien meat from planets she'd never step on. But it was good, it tasted expensive, it tasted like money.
Rue was lucky and privileged.
And they played relatively nice. So while she was on the highest fucking alert in the century, it was heaps better than worrying about food and her mother. It was a million times better than back home. It was like being a goddamn sugar baby, all she had to worry about was whether or not the seven rich, handsome, gorgeous assholes would try to lock her down.
It wasn't that hard.
They were beasts but not monsters.
So she transformed when some part of her gave up on running, caught on their noose, trapped in their snare. And different dreams were snuffed out by new ones when her bed got too warm, and their company got much better. Rue didn't think of a cushy job now, she thought of a fucking high paying position. She thought of goddamn retirement. Rue was corrupted as hell having tasted the tip of the food chain.
Was it wrong to change? Rue frowned. Gods, she was just so tired of being worried about everything, it was so much easier giving in to seven handsome men who cared for her. It was so much easier just succumbing to their demands and taking everything they could give.
She thought she was having goddamn Stockholm syndrome. And she tried not to think of those belittling thoughts that told her she was just like a pet, a useful breeder, a temporary prostitute. That there was no way she could get out of that contract. That their care was all false, and their parents, their planet would come swooping in to push her away. The luxury tasted temporary, surely there must be a catch, surely there would be a torture chamber somewhere. She'd swerve into darker thoughts at night, hoarding her gold, wishing for more safety, more security.
Rue felt weak, powerless.
And then everything changed when she realised the control she had.
The power.
It had rippled from her fingers, coiled around her heart like the wildest of rage. It stole and sank, it clawed through their enemies. It was strong, strong enough to take the lightning of the most powerful Zeus in the world as her own. There was no point trying to test out the theories at this point. Rue was 99% sure she was able to use their abilities.
And her beliefs had transformed when she learnt of the advantage that she had— the ability to take their powers, the ability to force their Alphas to their knees and the ability to save them as their best guide.
She was a triple threat.
They couldn't try anything on her.
They should start kissing her goddamn feet.
She had more cards in her hand than anyone in this world.
And then everything fucking changed when Dante saved her life. Her eyes were back on the wound on his neck, still a mess of bruises, still awful. But better, a hundred times better with the messy cuts closed, the flesh and sinews knotted together into a temporary scar. It was no longer the horrifying bubbling acid that had her scrambling to the edge of the cave searching for some kind of way to staunch the blood flow. Rue admitted that she could be an idiot at times.
He'd saved her without a second thought, neck gorged out just to wrap his arms around her before that monster took her. So there was no fucking way she was going to let him die. The concern had been so sharp in her throat it had tears almost in her eyes. The rage she felt for him had been indescribable, pulsing thickly, so hot in her veins.
It felt as if it started from her soul, sweeping its arms out to catch upon Dante and pull. And when he'd begged for her with sweat on his brow and desperation in his eyes. She'd craved him like food for a starving girl. He'd smelt more than just good; he'd smelt like home. And she wanted so badly to save him, she'd relented to the kissing. And then they had sex not because she wanted him healed. It was purely selfish reasons of her Omega wanting pleasure and Dante.
She was an idiot.
Rue would never admit out loud that she enjoyed it so much she wanted another go.
The wild hair had fallen across Dante's face, and he watched her now with a different look in his eyes. A warmth, a glint, a marvel. There was a sudden quiet gentleness about him as if sex had stolen all his anger at her, all his rage. They moved now, one step after the other, with Rue propping him up against her shoulder. He was still weak, and his breath still ragged. He leaned against her, hand on her hip, thumb gentle in the dip of her waist.
Her Omega was dripping.
"Why aren't you healing?" Rue asked, eyes darting back to him. Dante was always broad—wide shoulders, muscle dense and thick everywhere from his hips, thighs and ass. His back was the pure definition of art with its dips and curves. She'd always thought he was a gorgeous motherfucker. But now with him pressed by her side, it had her flushed hot and self-conscious of her depravity, knowing he could smell her arousal stinking the air.
"The poison's too deep, so my body's struggling to heal everything," the Zeus answered softly, his tone was one she'd never heard from him before. "You've given me enough; I just need to rest." He seemed distant, looking away with a hand to his chest.
"A-are you sure—"
"Rue," Dante breathed. "This is not the place for a long guiding session." There was a spark in his eyes, a smirk hooked at the corner of his lip.
"I know," she snapped, blush roaring to her cheeks. "But are you okay? You've been holding onto your pecs like it hurts—"
"I'm trying to find the others," Dante explained, his voice was velvety smooth, lacking the poison she was used to. Where the fuck was the raging asshole that she knew? "My bonds are stronger where the walls are thin. And I can feel them in my chest. Levi and Kieran can jump over if I can get close enough."
Rue cursed. "They're usually teleporting through shadow and light like cockroaches."
"They can't do it here," Dante explained. "It's the walls. Too thick, too much material. It bounces them off. But if my life is at risk, their Alphas will try harder."
Rue raised a brow. "You're healed."
"They know something happened," Dante answered simply. "They could feel us fucking. With you by my side, their Alphas will do everything it takes."
"Because they're worried, I'll steal you away?"
"Because they think I might mate with you."
Rue snorted. "The fuck? They're jealous—"
"They want to be the first," Dante answered with a smile, there were dimples on his cheeks. And they shouldn't be so fucking charming because it was driving her insane. "They're jealous. They felt it when I entered you, when you came around me, when I almost came in you. As pack Alpha, my feelings are broadcasted to the rest at a much stronger magnitude. And their Alphas yearn to challenge my rule." Dante pressed a tongue to the side of his teeth, a hum escaping him.
Rue stared at him, mouth opened, then closed. Her cheeks roared into fire. Damn it. Damn it all. "What are you? A fucking radio?"
Dante laughed. "You'll be surprised how much they care for you, little Omega."