Somewhere in his chest, his bond twisted and burned. The shared grief had now settled in his chest, not just his but also Elysian's. And he could feel the twang of despair within the murky depths of his strangely breaking bonds. The agony was sharp, like a flare in the darkness. And it hurt like fucking wildfire, hurt so much that he wanted to just curl into himself and die.
But still, he stepped into the room with a smile. He stepped forward anyway. He lied anyway. His fists ached. Icarus had to do what needed to be done. And he would lie in the grave he had made.
He would bear the weight of his sins forever.
Elysian blinked awake, slightly groggy from medication.
"Hey," Icarus whispered, pushing the palms of his hands over his face. His eyes were too wet. He cleared his throat. "You're up early."
"What's happening?" he slurred, eyes still glazed from sedation. Icarus resisted the urge to glare at Solar, who pumped out his magic like a storm. He twisted pheromones, forcing Elysian to feel happier.
"Nothing, you got sick," Icarus lied.
"Where's Quinn?"
And Icarus's heart twisted, seemed to crack all over again. "Outside."
Elysian's brows seemed to furrow. "Oh." His lashes fluttered in confusion. "M-my Omega's being weird."
"It's okay. Just the drugs."
"T-the bond feels weird."
He took Elysian's hand then. "I know."
"It feels like," Elysian pondered. "She's here." He sniffed. "It smells like she's here."
Icarus did not answer. He just held his hand tighter and tried not to choke on the lies.
*
Klaus
His mates were dying.
It was all his fault.
He shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have allowed them to step too close to the fire. He shouldn't have shot her, knowing the decisions that they could make. The things that they could do. He could hear them all screaming, breaking, burning alive in a new bond that they could not unthread.
They were all dying.
They must have learnt it from Elysian, had been greatly inspired by his noble sacrifice to save her. With Elysian, the claiming had healed him, had noticeably resulted in an increase in health for Quinn and Elysian. It was a twisted hack, a dangerous cheat code in the system. Klaus knew what they were thinking. That the rush of vitality that came with the bite might mean that they could save her life.
But no Omega had claimed an Alpha in decades.
Their Omegas should have stopped them, should have prevented even the protrusion of their incisors. So to bite someone who was basically dead?
It was impossible.
But they'd bitten her, claimed her. And now they were dying.
The chaos was there before him. Helios was in agony, wailing with his hands on her chest; his body glowing like a star. His magic seemed to fizzle, struggling desperately to tie itself to Quinn's soul. It pulsed like fading embers, spreading through her veins and travelling to her heart, desperate to keep a dying heart pumping.
Rowan was convulsing with his hand on her shoulder, his body splintering and tearing apart right before Klaus's eyes. It seemed that for the wolf, his Omega was desperate to heal his Alpha, to keep the bond alive through transformation. And Klaus watched in utter horror as Rowan's bones seemed to break and heal within him, shattering like the most awful of wolf shifting. Rowan was absorbing every splinter, every crack, every tear, taking it as his own again and again.
And Zen who was an amalgamation of species, was shaking like a leaf in an awful storm. There was blood pouring from his orifices, bruises appearing all over his skin, swaying over his flesh like strokes of paint. Klaus could see bones, he could see open wounds, he could see the tearing of skin, ripping at the seams. He could see meat, fat and flesh. And worse of all, the fucking gun-shot wound was on all three of his mates. Zen screamed.
Her wounds were now theirs.
Her pain was now their pain.
Her heart was only beating because they were keeping her alive.
Klaus had killed her.
And that meant he had killed them.
How could they? How could they? How could they? But they had tied their lives to her own. And now, with her organs failing, they were dying too. Fuck. He was crying. His mates were dying, the bond wasn't strong enough. Helios was too weak to heal everyone. Their Omegas were struggling. She was too gone for them to save her with a claim, to save her with their lives. He could see them struggling to get her to bite them, to complete the bond. Their hands were moving to nudge at her lips, desperate despite their pain.
How had they thought to use a claim to save her fucking life?
It just wasn't enough.
"No," Klaus sobbed. "No. No. No."
There was nothing he could fucking do but watch them die.
He had no fucking choice.
They weren't strong enough.
Klaus was pack Omega.
He was the strongest.
He was the best.
He was their Omega.
And so, he picked her up into his arms, pulled her away from his dying lovers. He could still feel her, the faint echo of her heartbeat. The fading thumps. And he lowered his head, crouched over her shoulder, and sank his teeth deep into her neck.
He bit her, hard and deep. And it took, took so fucking well. The bond snapped like fire to dry wood. He was sobbing when he brought her head to his neck, when he forced her jaw to clamp over his flesh with his eyes on his dying mates.
The bite burned.
He screamed when the bond pulled taut, when it latched upon every soul. Seven to one. A bond of eight to save a single dying mate. And Quinn breathed a wet, shuddering, awful gasp. Her first breath as pack Alpha, her first breath after death.
And so he claimed an Alpha that he had already killed twice.
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