When we locked her in, I threw myself into Theo’s arms, needing the comfort. I said nothing, though I was angry at Arch.Angry that I couldn’t put her in a steaming bath and feed her while she sat on my lap and unwound as I stroked her sides with my tail.Theo’s hands rubbed my lower back silently until I pulled away. We both turned and went to our leader.
Arch wasn’t mad with us. He was just mad. Crazy, even, with the alpha hormones. And he needed release. So we knelt and sucked his cock until he bade Theo to take me, while he fucked Theo. The pleasure and the pain all whirled together after that, and I let myself get lost in it. I needed it as bad as Arch did.I was angry too. At myself.
What had I been thinking? Project Selene is a disaster waiting to happen. The results coming in, it’s... not good. How could I get us embroiled in this? I should have never let Arch pick Fern.
When we were finally all empty shells of our anger, and our seed, Arch untied us and kissed us both deeply before thanking us for stopping him from making a horrible mistake.
“I would haveruinedit. Ruined things with Fern. I was so fearful for her and so...mad. She would never have forgiven me,rightfully. Thank you both,” he said roughly, regret and fear clear on his face. And we kissed him and curled up together, exhausted.
But now, in the light of day, I’m still feeling hollow and lost. Perhaps our chime is not ready for a bride. Perhaps we have no center; perhaps the three of us dance around an empty space, switching who is leading here and there, but none the less without an omega—real or makeshift—to keep us in order.
When Theo’s eyes open, he jumps up immediately and hurries to the closet. I follow, nervousness coiling in my gut. I see Theo yank the door open as I come around behind him.
Fern is still curled up in the pile of blankets. I peer in, but she doesn’t move.Fuck. Fear digs its claws into me.Perhaps our fragile human was more injured than we saw?
Arch presses past us, nude, striding into the closet, his wings half-folded and tilted back.A fear pose. He’s worried too.
He drops to his knees, reaching into the lump to find Fern. I’m not concerned anymore that he’ll “punish” her at this exact moment. She does need consequences, but there is no need for them right now and Arch understands. But I am a bit concerned she may feel... extra... threatened by him.
He pulls her to his chest and drops his head, whispering to her. She slowly blinks, but her body is limp, her hair hanging over his arm. Arch stands, carrying her, and heads for his bathroom. Theo and I exchange a glance. Theo follows Arch as I hurry to the kitchen for a glass of juice for Fern, worried about her calorie intake.
Humans generally need more food than we do, given their shorter lives and faster heart rates. I’m worried that Fern damn near starved herself, while also physically exerting herself, over the last few days.
When I get to the bathroom, Arch has set Fern in the large, in-ground tub and is standing in it as well, fiddling with the taps. Theo is in front of her, slowly undressing her. Her eyes flick to me as I come in. Her dull gaze quickly turns away.
I frown, climbing into the tub, as I’m still nude. I sit next to her as Theo moves her limbs this way and that way as he unwinds her makeshift clothes. Her gaze is distant, but she looks to me when I speak.
“You need some calories. Will you drink this?”
She nods but doesn’t move, so I bring it to her lips. She swallows compliantly and that fear that had dug itself into me at the closet rears its head.
As the tub fills, we care for her, washing her skin tenderly, picking twigs from her copper mane, checking her wounds, talking softly, but she is stiff.
A little doll, I think, now near frantic.
Is her mind damaged from what she endured in the woods? From killing? From the near rape? Or from us? From Arch last night? From this whole process?
I meet and search Arch and Theo’s eyes. I see similar concern reflected in them, but we won’t speak of it in front of her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fern
Ilet them clean me, hiding my emotions.
I let them tilt me back and wash my hair, let their hands skim over my body quickly, respectfully, to soap me.
Let them pour clean water over me, comb out my hair.
Let them lift me, dry me, wrap me in a blanket.
My face is blank.
Blank. There is nothing.
And all the while, my rage is simmering.
I am wrath. I am furor. I will do what I need to survive but I will kill them all.
