Kieran, and of all fucking people—Seraphim. It was funny to see the hostility in their faces, the beginnings of a snappy remark brewing in their throats. But all that vanished with a startled look as their eyes ran over the wounds on her hands. The flayed cuts that scored up her limbs as if she’d fed her fingers through a fan, bruises red and purple on her flesh. There was concern in their eyes, one that she understood from Kieran—the Alpha with a crush on her ass. But she was surprised to see the equal look of concern in Seraphim’s pretty eyes.

“Please, let’s not fight, we can do that tomorrow,” she sighed, kicked off her shoes, palms pressed to what remained bleeding. “I’ll just die. I don’t know if you want that, or maybe you do. I don’t know. Do what you want.” She exhaled, accepted her fate with open arms.

“What happened?” Kieran gawked, he justhad to be sweet.“Should I call Levi?” he blinked, and almost on autopilot, almost as if he were truly, truly in love with her, he was scooping her bag from her shoulders. His light rays running up and down her skin. “They don’t seem to be too deep, just a lick from him should—”

“Urgh, he’s going to fuck your ass raw again if you do that,” she complained with a huff. And somehow the animated scowl on his face as he scrutinised her wounds made her feel a little better. Maybe, maybe she had a friend out of all the enemies she’d made. “Are you lubed up? Stretched?”

“He’s not—” there was a blush on his cheeks, and Kieran shook his head. “He did that because of you, not because of me. If it’s an asshole he wants to fuck, it’ll be yours.”

“Keep telling yourself that lover boy,” she groaned, “oh God, I’m just going to die.” She turned her head to Seraphim, caught him clothed and with a pot of something cooking. It that smelled good, and she was salivating. Her mind far too exhausted and beaten to give a damn if she died from eating his meals. And the regret now spilled out of her throat. She was almost teary when she spoke, fear dripping from her limbs as she shook. “I’m sorry Seraphim, I shouldn’t have thrown out your cooking like that. I should have done it outside; I was just scared.”

“Uh,” the Alpha seemed caught in his steps, frozen as Kieran turned to give him a strange look. His eyes darting back to Rue’s, widening as his mouth formed an adorable little heart. But Rue couldn’t stop now, not when she was weakened by her exchange with Altair and Valentino.

“He what?” Kieran seemed almost scandalised. “And you what?”

“I threw out his food in his face, but it doesn’t matter. I was punished for that,” she exhaled, felt smaller as she showed them her hands. “Everyone could smell a poseidon on my fingers. Some people got mad. But I guess. I don’t know. I really don’t want to fight; I just didn’t want eggs inside me. I don’t want things ripping out of my chest. I’d really hate that. I saw a movie once and—I’m squeamish of children growing in my body clawing their way out.” She offered her neck to Seraphim the way Alphas liked it, and he seemed to flinch at her actions. “And I really, really hate pain. I know you said it wouldn’t be painful, but it sounded really, really painful.”

“Um, hm, uh,” Seraphim trembled, stirred extra hard. He looked everywhere. Everywhere but at Kieran. “Well.”

“We could have a compromise,” she was almost weeping. Almost, there were no tears. But she might as well have been sobbing if she could be, because her paper cuts hurt like a son of a bitch. And she felt horrible, melting into the ground with each shaky step. “I’ll shit them out. Okay? If you’d really want that. I don’t know how they’ll grow because I’m an Alpha, and you’re an Alpha. Two dicks, no holes. But if it’s your kink, I’ll just shit them out for you. Please, no more fights. I’m so tired.”

“Bro, what?” Kieran was blinking twice as hard, stared at Seraphim like he was spinning his dick in the kitchen. “WHAT?”

“I will go make some really, really good food for everyone!” was the poseidon’s chirpy response, fleeing the scene. And Kieran only stared incredulously at Seraphim’s back because there was nowhere to go in the tiny apartment. A gigantic wok was pulled from God knows where, and a fire burst free from the stove, drowning out their voices.

Kieran turned to her, seemed a little distracted. “Maybe we should go to your room?” He led her carefully, his hands nowhere close to open skin, but a palm rested on her back, guiding her carefully forward. And she followed his gentle push with the sad drag of her feet. “I’ll just dress your wounds.”

He opened her door, carefully set her stuff on the floor. It didn’t take long for him to return in a rush of light, an expensive first aid kit in his arms. It was strange, surreal, almost to see him kneeling on the ground before her, busy with the technology.

“You shouldn’t have taped it up,” he commented as the bots buzzed over her flesh, hissing over her skin. His hands darted over her, using tweezers so he’d avoid touching her bare skin. “Now we’ll have to remove it and it will hurt.”

“Don’t remove it,” she wailed, small and pitiful, sad. “Please?” This had his bottom lip trembling, and he blinked rapidly, his eyes quivering as they swayed over her face. He pursed his lips, appeared extra cute as he darted about, observing her wounds.

“We have to, Rue, we have to. Then you’ll be better tomorrow and snappy with me again,” he smiled, and his smile was like sunshine and rainbows. She wished for a moment that she could actually smell him, taste his Alpha on her tongue. “You just love getting on my nerve, don’t you? And you can do it again when you get so much better.” And he plucked each band slow and careful, as if he were actually concerned over her pain. She hissed, and he cooed, murmuring his concerns.

“I—” she sank into the bed, hid her face and felt for once overwhelmed by her situation. “I just don’t want to look weak.” And her voice grew smaller as he worked on her wounds, medicine carefully applied with a spray that tingled on her flesh. “I’m not a very strong Alpha.”

He blinked, stared at her carefully, seemed almost lost for words. His lips opening and closing, blinking rapidly as he struggled to find what he could say to make her feel better. Now she felt stupid, confessing her truth to a roommate she barely knew, and one that she’d discovered had a massive crush on her ass.

“Forget it,” she groaned, “fuck, I was a little vulnerable with you and now you’re looking at me like I’ve got twenty dicks on my face.”

“I understand,” he said softly, “I really do. And I’m not that strong too.”

“Uh, bullshit,” she growled. “You’rehelios, you look like you could pulverise your enemies, lead platoons, killed billions with just some sunny flick of your wrist.” He winced, swallowed thickly at her words as if she got it all right.

“But I lost my shit with you,” he answered, gentle, soft. His eyes too warm, too dilated and sweet for his usually angry, blushing face. “When you touched me, I couldn’t control anything. The lights didn’t listen at all. I’ve never felt weaker. It was really scary. I’ve never lost control like that.”

“Urgh, so I fucked up with that too. I’m sorry, that’s why you’re mad at me aren’t you?”

“No, I’m—That came out wrong,” Kieran sighed. “I’m only mad at you for opening my door when I told you not to, but that—” he grew red, handsome cheeks burning “—that was more of an embarrassment. You caught me in a really bad situation.”

“You were down so bad for me, so bad.”

“By the sun, Rue. Please, stop,” he begged, then exhaled, tugging off the last offensive band aid and she flinched. His brows furrowed, twisting upwards, seemed almost genuinely concerned over her wellbeing. His fingers hovered over her, ghosting over flesh. “It’s okay if you’re weak around me because I’m my weakest around you. I literally cannot control any of my suns when you touch me. So, I promise, I won’t hurt you like that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “you could’ve killed me by now. Slit my wrist, but you’ve bandaged me up so much I can’t even move my fingers. Kier, I’ve just got cuts, I didn’t break all my bones.” He grew pink, blinked rapidly as she raised a burrito of a bandage, a smile blossoming over her cheeks.

“I’ll feed you,” he assured, running off quickly and returning with a bowl of pink soup that seemed suspiciously thick with bright blue chunks that swam around the surface. She eyed it incredulously, recoiling in her bed.

“It’s very good,” he raised a spoon to his lips and blew. “And it’s not that hot. According to my lights, it’s approximately—”

“Is it from Seraphim? Because he tried to drug me the night he attempted to inseminate me.”

“He tried to—” Kieran sighed. “I’ll talk to him, no more of that. I promise.”

“No more fertilisation?”

“No more fertilisation,” Kieran agreed. “Look, it’s safe. I’ll take a bite,” he drank from the spoon, and she watched him swallow. His throat bobbing, his tongue slipping out to lick at the corners of his lips. “See? Remember, if I wanted to kill you a blade to your wrist would be a lot easier. In fact, even if I couldn’t touch you, I can still kill you with the bounce of the light from the mirror to your throat. And you’d die in three—”

“Fine.”

She opened her mouth, and he carefully pressed a spoon to her lips, eyes locking on her mouth. Rue chewed on the stew and swallowed. Her stomach growled almost immediately; the hunger springing free. Of course, Seraphim’s food had to be so fucking good she’d almost wept tears of joy. Of course, it had to be. The moan that spilled from her lips seemed to startle Kieran, the spoon clattering as he jumped just a little.

“Fuck Seraphim,” she cried, opened her mouth for more like a baby bird. Kieran obliged with another spoonful, smile growing. He shifted in his seat, seemed a little uncomfortable as his cheeks grew a pretty shade of pink.

“He’s very good at cooking, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is, sorry for the porn like moan,” she made a face, “I have had nothing since yesterday.”

Whatever was in that pink menace was goddamn amazing. It had a sunny sweetness from the acidic tang of what she could only describe as tomatoes; a fuck ton of crunchy alien vegetables; and chunky meat that melted on her tongue from generous, expensive marbling.

Rue savoured the feeling of hot soup tracing a gentle, soothing line down her throat. The warmth seeping out to end the chill of fear that stretched across her skin.

“Then you should eat more,” Kieran reassured her, made no comment of the sound she’d just let free to his innocent ears. “It’s my favourite to have when I’m sick. Seraphim keeps a good amount frozen in case one of us needs it.”

“I love it,” she nodded, begging for more. “I want to slurp that shit up. Just give it to me, I’ll—”

“No, no slow down, one bite at a time,” he laughed, lips forming hearts and his eyes curving into happy little moons. “There’s a lot more, you can eat as much as you want.”

“You live like kings,” she groaned. “Have you ever thought of that? Food this good? Urgh, I’d retire. Fuck school, don’t need that bitch. Us aliens? We only need two things, sleep and good food.” Her words had a snort spilling from his nose, he coughed, cleared his throat.

“Stop stroking Seraphim’s ego.”

“Is he listening?”

“Maybe.”

“Well then,” she cleared her throat, called to the alien at the door. “The food is mediocre; I wish the chef could do a lot better!” There was a disbelieving, squeaky laugh from the door. “Shit, he’s been standing there since the compliments?”

“Yes.”

“Kings,” she shook her head, “rich kings.”

“How about,” he hummed, “we live like emperors?”

“No,” she shook her head, “this is poverty to an emperor. Our beds are like rocks. You’ve got tosharea space with a peasant like me. The bathroom has no privacy. The apartment is fucking tiny. How the fuck is that, an emperor?” To that he let out a laugh, the chuckle straight from his belly.

“I guess,” he smiled, seemed oddly amused.

“You’re not showing me the full space of the apartment, are you?” she accused, and he fed her another spoonful, gentle as he scraped at her lips, ensuring that soup would not drip down her chin with each bite. “It’s bigger and I’m an outsider.”

“The others…Are not too friendly. The room you have was once just for storage,” he nodded. “We’ve got bigger spaces,” Kieran sighed. “And you’ve got a roommate. This is his closet. He’s hogging your space, taking up the room.”

“Fuck, let me guess, I haven’t met him?”

“He’s…Number 7.”

“Oh well,” she shrugged, “I enjoy my own space, I like what he did.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’ve already got to share a whole shower room; you think I want to share a bed?” She rolled her eyes as Kieran let out a chuckle. “Fuck no.”

Rue ate until her tummy was full of comfort food that warmed her soul. Kieran was gentle and chatty the entire time, didn’t show an ounce of annoyance through her three full bowls of stew. At the end of it, Seraphim had been standing at the door, a pot in his hands, a sheepish look on his face. He’d peered into her room, seemed oddly content with looking at the way she savoured the meal, bouncing on his feet with a ladle in hand.

They were allso so different from before, almost as if something had changed.

Seraphim had taken the bowls and Kieran tucked her into bed, a cleaning mint pressed to her mouth. His fingers barely grazing her lips, and yet his light had reacted with a rush of shattering gold. And Rue had burst into peals of laughter as he panicked, tripping over his feet to go, hands tugging at his clothes.

She was strangely sleepy after the food, had fallen into a food coma too easily. And at night, she roused, sleepy and squinting at the crick of the door. A shadowy figure in her room, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon from her window.

“It’s just me,” was the murmur from a raspy, too sexy voice. Her body tingled, a rush of something sweeping across her skin, gooseflesh forming in its wake. “Val did a number on you, huh? I’d recognise those wounds from anywhere. Their poison’s already in your bloodstream.”

“Huh?” she gawked, still too sleepy to register his words. There must have been something in the soup, or the medical spray. She didn’t know. But Rue trusted Kieran, and it was a strange new feeling in her chest, one that bubbled and frothed, like warm honey and spun sugar.

“It’s Levi, Kier sent me.” He moved closer, stuck his tongue out. And she caught the glint of his eyes in the light, the ruby red that glowed, and the fiery traces of heat that ran up his veins. “May I heal you? You won’t die and I’ll be quick.”

“Will you really?” she cracked open an eye, squinted drowsily into the darkness.

“No,” he admitted with a grunt. “I want to savour you.”

Her lips quirked, sleepy as she spoke. “Sure, go to town and don’t fuck anyone after.”

He chuckled, “I will.”

Levi knelt at her feet, gently unwrapping her bandages, and before she knew it, he was lapping her skin, as gentle as a cat. His tongue darting out, kitten-like and tender as he tasted each cut, almost sexual as the wet muscle lapped a long strip up her skin. His eyes were glowing soft orange in the dark, fiery and glossy. And she watched him grew drowsy as she sank deeper into sleep, lulled by the gentle flicker of flames in his glittering eyes.

“You’re delicious. Truly, the blood of my soul,” was the whispery purr that she heard in the dredge of sleep. “The hearth of my fire, the heat of my shadow. Fuuuuck.” There was a long groan as he swept his tongue across her skin over a particularly deep cut. “So fucking good.”

“Whatever the fuck you just said,” she groaned through sleepy dreams, “was disgustingly cliché. Just admit that I taste like all-natural, organic Viagra and then fuck off.”

A/N: Read 15+ parts ahead on my patreon at https://www.patreon.com/tinyeyecat