Rue

Her class was muted in an artificial snow; of white frost that spun thick and lacy upon barren trees—branches close to splinters from the weight. And it all settled on what used to be the crisscross of sidewalks. Thick snow laid upon the grassy lawns of an empty central courtyard, misted with plumes of foggy heat.

And Rue’s eyes strayed further, out of the contained space, to the bigger structure that sat far beyond the pretty railings. Her gaze drew towards the architecture that hissed with age, peppery with rust, vines and stone; the columns were gilded with hundreds of turrets, soaring over a lake of slippery silver that poured into the void of endless space.

The School of the Omegaverse, home of the Guides.

This was a meeting point between two floating realms upon the miniature planet of Hakon. And viewed from afar, her school building was none other than an enormous bridge trapped between two points. It was a bridge that connected the Northern faculty of Alphas to the pack dormitories in the South.

It was symbolism of guides as protectors of all. The mediators of Rampage. The caretakers of the Omegaverse. The bridge between the Alphas, the Omegas and Betas. Doctors of life. Linguistic bullshit was what Rue would call it. She’d liken it to claiming prostitutes were peacemakers of a household.

The scowl sat heavily on her brow. Her mood soured from the morning.

It was a fight club in her dormitory, a battle of fists and taking the first fucking punch just to survive amongst seven others. In one night, she punched and was punched, seemed to have settled the domination tendencies of three of the most beautiful Alphas she’d ever seen in her miserable life.

She supposed she must be stepping on a few tails, testing a couple of boundaries with her inability to smell piss on the walls and semen on the floor in all its different notes. But it shouldn’t matter, not if she kept her hands to herself and her body out of their space.

A steamy chill settled upon the air, burning her lungs, and Rue sighed, felt the emptiness of her gut, twisting with the lack of food. On her feet was a turret of energy that skated her forward, pushing her faster through the powdery snow. Her throat was dry, and the memory of her last meal—albeit poisoned with a sedative—was heavy on the edge of her tongue.

It would be an understatement to say that Rue regretted her choice to toss out the food. Because good lord, did she fucking lament its destruction. If Rue had all the time in the world, she’d position herself one step outside of the hospital and feast on breakfast made by the godly hands of an Alpha that shouldn’t be so damn good at cooking. Because what Seraphim had created had been, pathetically, the best meal of her entire life.

But she’d panicked, had fucked up so bad she was sure she’d made her first enemy. Rue cursed, jogging up the steps.

A defence class with a bunch of Alphas in twelfth grade, rowdy customers in the den, a drunk bastard or two that tried to tap her ass. That was all she had when it came to self-defence. But even then, the men she’d been twisting and pushing to the ground had been scrawny babies that weren’t that capable, squealing like pigs with her knee on their back. They’d been drunk and inexperienced.

Weaklings.

So to hold her own against a poseidon, to stand tall against one of the seven most powerful species of Alien in the entire world, was no ordinary feat. God, standing up to any healthy Alpha shouldn’t be easy. But to take a poseidon down, to slam a poseidon against the floor barely lucid. A rush of air escaped her lips, heat blooming in her cheeks.

It was fucking exhilarating, a confidence boost, a plot twist. An over-powered move from the weakest character in a story. An ability that should never be possible for an Omega. It was fucking fantastic, proof that the system hadn’t fucked up and Rue truly deserved a place in Hakon amongst the chauvinistic.

Rue groaned closed her eyes, tongue to the corner of her lip. Seraphim was a crazy son of a bitch, but a gorgeous one. One so beautiful that holding him close and whimpering against her had things swaying within her chest, and her belly whispering with heat. It made her Omega do things that she hadn’t seen before, had felt her twisting and curling within her gut, roaring with a need for something else. Something more.

It made her wonder if her strength had all been just a hallucination; if this were his plot to get her needy and wanting. Because Rue wasn’t the most informed when it came to poseidons. She knew of eggs settling within their throats; of their tails that appeared when submerged; of their position as top dog with a planet score of 3; of their likeness to sirens with a voice that could control; of their place in the world as the wettest Aliens in the universe.

That made her snort, mind drawing to the sticky dollops that had flooded her palm. Rue had had to hold herself, had to exhale steady through her lips like a mouth breather just to look at him in the eyes and tell him to fuck off and die. It was so hard saying no to the crazy, and perhaps Rue did have a thing for psychos.

Because she did go to bed horny, with too many dreams of her fingers down Seraphim’s pretty throat and her hands around his monster cock, throbbing, silky and molten hot in her hands. A writhing silky mixture of tentacles that seemed both velvety soft, and yet solid enough to fuck. His semen had been slippery against her skin, dripping and silvery, a little tingly with a good level of heat.

She’d love to have him with his fingers deep in her—

No, she should not be encouraging positive feelings for the resident poisoner. What was she thinking?

She swallowed, felt guilt churn in her chest at the devastation that slipped into his eyes when she’d tossed out that box. And the memories were coming at her now, repeating in her head like a broken record. The anger that thrummed through his voice, squeaky and high pitch, growing raw like teeth grating upon metal. His voice had spun free with orders but even that hadn’t done much to her, had simply thundered in her heart, shuddering through her veins. The way a cheap vibrator would, shaking weakly on skin.

Was it truly his attempt to make peace, or had it been his second go at assassination?

But Rue had been too sleepy to give a damn, lost a whole bunch of braincells the moment his pretty face had sprang into view. She’d shoved him hard and fast upon the wall, handcuffed and pressed against silky skin.

And she’d enjoyed that too much, God, he could have liked that too.

Because Seraphim had been breathing hard, planes of skin rippling with heat, eyes the most gorgeous black orbs of dilated quivering cesspools. And he’d been pink, so pink that it had stood upon the round apples of his cheeks, his ears and the inches of his neck, stretched lower to overclothed skin.

She hated herself for leaking just a little slick when he’d given her that look. That look of whiny outrage, that look with the tears in his eyes as if he were inches away from another orgasm because Rue had seen his ‘o’ face and it was one of the prettiest she’d ever seen in her short, miserable life.

And gods, it deserved a place in a magazine because she’d buy that shade of pink on his lips and the tip of his dick if she could. She’d number code it as an in-between of a coral and a bubble-gum—

“Rue!”

She looked up when Theo called, raised a tentative brow as he smiled, purple, friendly and sweet. Unlike her stupid ass, he was dressed warmly, wrapped in plenty of heat technology and whatever abilities that gave the alien a tad of a volcanic glow. He paused, staggering in his steps, seemed to recoil into himself when he stopped in front of her. “You don’t smell too good.” And that had her scampering for excuses, her brain short-circuiting.

“Thanks.”

Rue shrugged, bent to give a fake sniff at her pits. But all she got through her nose was the scent of mint so strong she swore it could revive the dead. She tasted her mouth and even that was still fresh and minty from toothpaste. Was the semen on her neck rotting or something? Perhaps it was time to write a letter to her aunts for the freshest supply.

“It was a warzone on my first day,” Rue emphasised on the brag, pulled it from her lips and allowed it to spread, sticky and long in feigned ease. “They tried to fuck with me. Could never use the shower, those shitheads laid traps everywhere, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re waiting to get a good shot of my ass.” She scowled with a hissy sigh. “Had a tour of the shittiest bathroom in the century, and I only find out that there’s a massive pool behind a hidden wall at the end of the day. Threw a couple of punches, so that was fun.”

“Was one of them a poseidon?” Theo seemed scandalized, paling as he stumbled backwards. He pulled out his bag, rummaging frantically for something. “You smell like you should be dead-How are you—” He tugged free a spray bottle. His hands were shaking as he popped the cap free, even that clattered to the floor from trembling fingers. “Here, I’ve got some anti-toxins, but I doubt they’d really do much work—” he sniffed again, then paused, eyes widening. “Oh, were you guiding?”

“Guide—” she blinked, allowed the spray of liquid upon her fingers which she rubbed vigorously as Theo pointed to parts of her that must smell filthy. It didn’t take long for her to connect the dots. He was asking if she’d fucked a poseidon. Her poseidon. “No, God no.” Her lips opened and closed, mind drew back to the naked alien with his thighs spread and her hands on his cock. “I’ve just got one as a dormitory mate—He was mean, so we fought, but we didn’t—Do I stink that bad?”

“Your hands,” he tasted his lips, seemed a little dazed as he continued sniffing. “There’s a very strong smell of poseidon on them. You smell like you should be dead, very, very dead. But you’re not. Did you touch I don’t know—His saliva? His tongue? It’s very potent for just a brawl.” The way that word crawled from his tongue in a whisper seemed almost filthy.

She frowned. “Yeah? No, seriously. His dick didn’t enter anything, sure it was hanging around. But I couldn’t stomach it, the way it moves fucks me up. Do you think I smell like—” Her mind danced back to the cum on her hands. “Like uh—Cum?”

“No, no!” Theo seemed scandalized. “Of course not, that would be impossible. It’s just a very good smell—It’s sweet, very uh—powerful and just fucking scary. Y-You don’t know, do you? Can’t smell anything at all?” He stared at her then a heavy sigh on his lips. “You’d best not touch anyone for now, and I’d sanitize your items. You wouldn’t want to poison others, give the spray a couple of hours to work—”

“Poison?” she sniffed, faked a sneeze. “I’ve got a cold; my nose is blocked up. But what the fuck—”

“You’re—I hate to say this Rue, but you’re really stupid. You’re going to get yourself killed.” Theo shook his head, flung his hands looking exasperated. “Shit, you didn’t even know a thing about Seirios. You’re going to blow yourself up or get yourself executed. And I’m telling you, the aliens from planets lower than ten?” He drew closer with a glare. “They’re exempted from many laws; they’re legally allowed to kill you. And you’d let them.You have to look them all up. Start with everyone in your dormitory.”

“Gee, thanks,” she chirped, but took no offence to his speech with a bright laugh. “I guess I should do that. Information on poseidons’ is just not readily available, you know? Family secret and all?”

“Right,” Theo sighed, gestured for her to follow. “I’m just—We work with poseidons? My people. Because we’re really good at water filtration, and just cleaning things but—Poseidons, are a species made completely out of poison, in their most basic aquatic form they’re just humanoid slime.”

“Nice to know that they’re mostly fish water,” she’d snorted. “So I touched his slime?”

“You smell like you did,” he sighed. “And you did it straight from the source with no protection. He’s very strong, ridiculously so. Most would cower under that scent. Poseidons can control the composition of their fluids, change the toxicity and the abilities of what they produce. Which makes them fantastic at making drugs, you’ll find a lot of them as pharmacists or doctors. And they always look good because of how their flesh is technically just an illusion—”

Theo cleared his throat, seemed a little pink.

“But the point is they spend a lot of time thinking about their venomous forms, altering it for their own motives, keeping themselves poison-free for others. They control their poison production. And this one, is not only fucking strong and filled with venom that could kill a ton of people,” Theo pointed at her hands. “He was not thinking at all. Not a single ounce of control was in that poison.”

“So he was relaxed?” Her lips jerked upwards, mind drifting to Seraphim’s orgasm, already pinning it as the culprit. Her lips curled at the thought of the pearly silver liquid. But the alien hadn’t seemed wet, sure he was pretty and sweaty, but that didn’t seem to equate to the slimy watery equivalent of what she had in mind. “But he didn’t seem that slimy, I doubt I touched—”

“Their fluid form is one that they’ll only reveal to pack during Ruts. But their sweat, the natural oils, there’s poison in that.”

“So…Just a handshake would poison me?”

“Just a dip of his little finger in a pot of soup’s enough for him to pump it full of drugs.”

“Shit!” she hissed, wiped her hands down her front, growing sweaty as she counted the number of times she’d touched Seraphim with bare hands. She decided then that it was a good decision for her to keep her mouth away from his food. “I didn’t know!”

“But that doesn’t matter! Because the poison you have on your hands? That could kill hundreds and thousands,” he replied looking grim. “I guess, it couldn’t in Hakon, most of us are top tier. But you’d be seriously trying. It’s that fucking thick. It’s like you plunged your hands deep within his slime, spent an hour inside his heart.

Or his dick, Rue scowled.

“Are you sure you weren’t guiding him?”

“He could just be trying to kill me?”

“No way. This isn’t a drop of his most venomous death-inducing poison, this is just raw poseidon all over your hands.” He sighed. “It’s so messy, and thick, and sticky sweet. And pretty. What did you do?”

“Very apt description, Theo. I totally understood that.” She took the bottle from him, sprayed it over her palms. “Can you still smell it?”

“Fuck. Yes. The domination is just crazy. It’s telling me to back the fuck off because you’re his. You don’t have to know a poseidon to tell that you’ve got an Alpha’s thickest scent all over you.”

“Goddamn it,” Rue sighed. “Social suicide’s also a new form of assassination. His, you say?”

“He wouldn’t do that, this poison it’s private.” Theo pointed down the hall and she followed, trying her best to absorb the information and memorise the path to class. “Poseidon’s won’t be pumping it out on the daily. This one’s for the bedroom, death or not. You almost died, but you smell like you died with love.”

“Cool, I smell like poseidon sex.”