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Fact One:
Multi-Species Fated Matings don’t exist. In all of history, there hasn't been a single documented case of a Fated pack containing all three Species.
Fact Two:
If, hypothetically, a wolven Alpha claims to have a Fated Bond with a human Omega and that Fated Bond is verified, then the human Omega will never share a Bond with another human or vampire.
Which means, hypothetically, any previous Bonds the Omega may have claimed to share are a lie—unless the Bonded is a wolven.
Fact Three:
If the Omega lied about a Fated Bond, it’s not a big leap to assume she’s lied about everything else.
Fact Four:
The moment her Bond with the wolven snapped into place, Idril officially became our enemy.
And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let my last brother fall prey to her pretty face and whispered lies.
Discovering that the wolven was telling the truth about their Mate Bond was a special kind of betrayal for Vae. I knew when he found out it would gut him, and even though I hated to do it, I knew I had to warn him before he brought Idril up from the cells.
He won’t admit how much it hurt when that Bond snapped, but I can see it. I can feel it through our Bond.
And while he won’t ever admit how much it hurt him to have absolute proof that she’s been lying, he clearly has no problem making his change of heart clear for her now.
“Congratulations, little traitor,” he sneers. Her eyes widen as he stalks closer, not stopping until he’s physically looming over her.
His scent is bitter and burnt. He needs to rein it in before she realizes he’s hurt and uses it against him.
“You’re officially Enemy Number One,” Vae spits. “I hope your cell was comfortable, because that’s your new home for the foreseeable future.”
“You had her in a fucking cell?” Soren shouts, shoving himself between Vae and the Omega and forcing my Packmate to take a step back.
“That’s where she belongs,” Vae snaps back, and the wolven’s eyes flash as his Beast pushes to the surface.
“Fuck that. She’s leaving. No way in seven hells will you throw my Mate in a fucking cell.”
Soren turns and crouches down, bracing himself with a hand on the back of her chair.
“Idril,” he whispers her name with a deliberate gentleness completely at odds with the protective fury of his Alpha pheromones. “Who can we ask to go pack your things? Once we get them, we can leave, alright? Or we can leave them and go right now if you want. You never have to see these males again.”
Idril’s head jerks up so fast I’m shocked her neck doesn’t snap. Her eyes are wide and bright with tears. Her lower lip begins trembling violently, and I’m sure she’s seconds away from falling into her savior's arms and sobbing in gratitude, ready to ride out of here on his back like a fucking princess on the back of a pony.
But that’s not what happens.
Instead of the relief I’m expecting at the thought of leaving, Idril… panics.
Each breath she takes is a fight—a struggle for air that won’t end. She lifts shaking hands to her chest, pressing her palms hard against her sternum, gasping in between broken, choked-off gulps of air that clearly aren’t making it to her lungs.
My instincts have me moving without thought—crossing the room in four long strides until I’m next to Soren, hovering over the Omega as she fights to breathe and speak at once. When a clearly painful gasp gets caught in her throat, it morphs into a keening whine of agony that slams into my sternum like a fucking dagger.
The pain is so fucking real that I stumble back a few steps as black spots dance in my vision and the room starts to spin. My Alpha screams, a furious roar exploding through my senses in a rush of rage I’ve never experienced from my Designation’s instincts before.
What the fuck is happening to me?
That Omega whine means my Alpha’s attention is laser-focused on her, so even as I struggle to reorient myself and breathe through the ache in my chest, my eyes never leave the female. Soren is crouched over her form protectively, and I’m struck by how fucking small she looks in that chair, curled into a tight ball like she might just disappear if she makes herself small enough. She’s still struggling to breathe, gasping and panting, stealing sharp pulls of air that she chokes on.
Strangled sounds start to fall from her lips, and the harder she fights, the more panicked she gets, until another whine rips from her chest and sends my fucking instincts spiraling.