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Luka’s chest rises, falls, rises again. Steady. He’s holding on. I pull in a breath, let it out slow, try to shake the image of him lying still.
“Damn drugs,” Rook mutters, checking Luka’s vitals once more. “He’ll make it.”
“Thanks.” It’s all I can manage, the word heavy and clumsy in my mouth.
The room blurs as relief washes over me, and it’s only then that I search for anyone else—for Gunnar, specifically, for Lark and god…Oberon. Oberon is there, striding toward me, a force of nature with arms that wrap around me like iron bands. He buries his face in my neck, and I smell the gunpowder and sweat on him.
“Christ, Aisling,” he breathes. “We were so fucking worried.”
“I missed you so much,” I say, my voice small. I don’t know if I’ve felt this way in a long time—if I’ve really missed someone.
I care about them, and I may have destroyed what I had with Gunnar…
…I can’t…
Oberon suddenly goes tense, then pulls back, his gaze darting between Luka and me, a question written clear in his eyes. He finds the fresh bite on my neck and his lips curl in a snarl. “Did you…”
“It wasn’t planned, Oberon. It just…” I swallow hard, the truth bitter. “It happened.”
“Is that Luka’s scent?” His words are a low growl, a warning.
“It was eros,” I whisper. “They dosed him and he…”
Oberon somehow holds me even tighter, stroking my hair. “You’re okay now, Star,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
My fingers curl in his shirt and I start sobbing again, unable to help myself. I feel like I rarely shed a tear the whole time I was trapped here, and now I can’t stop.
I don’t know if I’ll stop until Gunnar forgives me.”
“Shit.” Oberon runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration I know all too well. “Eros or not, Gunnar won’t see it that way.”
“He doesn’t have to know,” I say, but the lie tastes like ash. “I think…it’ll be easier for him if he doesn’t know Luka wasn’t in control. He…he hurt me, Oberon. But I hurt him too and—“
He releases me, a look of determination setting into his features. “We handle this together. You, me, Luka. We’re in this deep.”
“Guess we are,” I admit, because there’s no point denying the mess we’re in. We’re pack-bonded now; me, Gunnar, Oberon, and Luka.
We have to figure this out.
“He’s gonna be okay,” Rook says from the floor near Luka. “You two might want to get a lay of the land…seemed like quite a few folks needed guidance.”
“Thanks, Rook,” Oberon says, then takes my hand. “Come with me?”
I nod. “Okay.”
Oberon and I step through the blasted doors of the temple into the chaos of New Eden. The acrid stench of blood and gunsmoke hangs heavy in the air. My boots crunch on debris, and all around us, the village lies in ruins. These are the homes my grandparents built, that raised families…
…that turned to ruin.
“Look at this,” Oberon says, his voice tight with a cocktail of triumph and regret.
I scan the horizon, taking in the toppled structures and fires still consuming what’s left of buildings. But it’s the bodies that draw my eyes—the fallen alphas, scattered like broken dolls, faces twisted in shock and agony. Omegas and betas, their fists and weapons still raised in fury, stand over them.
They’re not just victorious; they’re avenged.
“Where do you think he is?” I ask, my voice barely audible over the crackle of flames.
“Who?” Oberon keeps his gaze fixed on a beta dragging an alpha by the collar, the latter’s face smeared with blood.
