Anarchy, p.36
Anarchy, page 36
I think we might have added a day or two to Vandle’s healing process, but I don’t think he cared as she took the tip of his cock between her pink lips.
Beyond that, she seemed determined to kick one of us into heat. Evenings were spent tangled together in the nest or soaking in the hot tub, steam curling around us as her scent grew heavier by the day.
And it seemed the more we fucked her, the hornier she got.
The drugs she’d been given wouldn’t put her heat off forever, so we all knew it was a matter of time.
I had to figure out what I was going to do about mine. My nerves told me that I should continue what I always had—to beat the heats back with drugs—but another part of me, the part that was finally starting to process that we were really, truly free… that part wasn’t so sure.
I needed more information about my designation. Learning that I wasn’t an omega changed everything. And finally, on the eighth day of our freedom, I got a letter from the Kingsman pack—or from Shatter, really, since she was the one digging into sigmas.
I brought it to the nest, where Vandle was, so the whole pack could read it. He was getting up and about now, though he still spent most of the day in the nest.
The others joined us as I skimmed the words scrawled out, and it was addressed to our new official pack title—claimed from Vandle’s last name.
To the Banner pack:
This is what I’ve found on sigmas. There is very little data available, so it’s not complete.
Sigmas present similarly to omegas in that they perfume. However, a year later, their eyes change to red instead of gold. The larger hormonal changes seem to follow this shift in eye colour—or perhaps work in tandem with it—because the Institute’s injections have neutralized them completely. From what we can gather from the data, omegas who would have presented as sigmas remain at the omega baseline after receiving the injection.
They were rare even when unsuppressed. Now, with gold pack omegas making up such a small percentage of the broader population, sigmas are likely so rare that they are easy to relegate to myth.
Unlike omegas, sigmas are fiercely independent and the only designation that doesn’t rely on packs to remain balanced, with flexible heats satisfied by any designation. They possess massive, volatile auras like alphas, but these are harder to trigger, often coming out with threat or injustice, but they can be mastered.
In packs, they complete a triad: the alphas balance the omega, the sigma anchors the alphas, and the omega balances the sigma.
They cannot take the role of pack lead, but history indicates it isn’t unusual for there to be clashes between pack leads and sigmas within packs. Sigmas bonded with omegas are recommended to have enough alphas in the pack to keep them in check, as they can be violently volatile in protection of their bonded—especially in the case of mates. (Something to keep an eye on—Sin likely needs you all, as no one has interacted with him as his true designation).
I couldn’t find any data on how sigmas interact with Institute-developed bonds like princess and dark bonds. They were eradicated because they were, for a long time, considered the ‘moral compass’ of the arkological designations. They spoke harshly against the early concepts of princess bonds, firmly believing that the alteration of nature could only lead to catastrophic outcomes.
However, I wonder if the strong connection with nature’s balance is why the dark bond ended up the way it did. In essence, in dark-bonding her, you took power from Crescent, and his bond reacted to rebalance it, giving him power over you.
The princess bond was not fully developed until much later, when sigma numbers were already dwindling or extinct. However, it appears they were right; the eventual development of the princess bond resulted in the dark bond—a consequence the Institute never intended.
Based on what my alphas have told me regarding the Institute’s methods, I would wager that they quietly deal with the existence of sigmas behind closed doors.
It’s something we’re going to look into.
—Shatter
VANDLE
A few days had passed since we’d got the details from the Kingsman pack about sigmas, and they’d since sent a few more tidbits.
Basically, there was a good chance we were in for a crazy ride if Sin went into heat.
And Crescent had made him swear that if he did, he wouldn’t take any more drugs. She was right that he could go through heat with any designation—including her.
But it wasn’t so simple.
They were bonded, and that meant if his heat triggered, hers likely would too. And Sin still had a complicated relationship with alphas because of his time in Anarchy—which might extend to us.
Me, Karma, and Phantom had herded her out onto the back patio to talk, since we couldn’t risk being overheard by Sin. We’d had to do it while he was in the shower—otherwise, prying her away from him was fucking impossible.
It was a clear night, and the stars were visible through the trees above. I could see Karma peering up at them as he leaned on the side of the hot tub. He did that whenever we’d come out at night. He and Phantom had stayed out so late a few nights ago, they’d fallen asleep out here.
Crescent hopped up onto the side of the hot tub, folding her arms. “Sin said he doesn’t think it’s coming soon.”
“I think we’d be foolish to think it wasn’t,” I told her. “He’s growled at every alpha entering the nest in the last day.”
“Maybe he’s claiming the nest at last,” she said. “That’s a good thing.”
“He only growls when we’re looking at you,” Karma said.
“And he’s eaten all the ice cream,” Phantom added.
“But I want mine to start first.” She wrinkled her nose, all cute-like.
“If his heat hits, yours will too,” I said. And they were both on hair triggers with the amount of drugs they’d had to suppress them.
That’s why we were taking this so fucking seriously, even if she wasn’t worried. We had a double heat coming up, with an omega and a sigma who’d never had a heat before—and of them, the one who could snap us in two had a truckload of trauma he hadn’t dealt with.
“Look, I’m the seer,” I said. “And I say he’s not stable.”
“Wait, you are,” Karma said, looking at me. “How did you not know he was a sigma? Don’t you like… see designations and all that?”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t look that different from omegas—well, until the aura. He is... a bit different, but it’s not like I knew to look for it. And down in Anarchy, most of the auras are so fucked up it’s not unusual for them to be odd.”
“He said he’ll be fine,” Crescent whispered. “He will be. He has all of us.”
He had been saying that.
And I hadn’t listened.
Crescent and Sin had gone on an outing to the local town in the last few days, and I’d taken the opportunity to have an alpha hook installed. It was a hook drilled into the ground, attached with a chain threaded into the nest. We’d had to find a really old one with a high concentration of Vycron Steel. It seemed it might have been enough for sigmas.
When Sin had asked about it, I’d told him it was a kink thing.
Not that I wanted to chain Sin up, but he was being a brat. And an idiot if he didn’t think instincts could get the better of him.
Plus, he’d made me bark.
The truth was, though, if things went south, none of us could deal with him.
I was pack lead, and it was my job to make sure we were safe. Even if that meant chaining my pack members up during heat.
The good thing about both of their hormones holding out was that I was recovered enough to deal with heat. The knife wounds along my side ached, but I was able to walk around. And I’d be able to fuck well enough—if my sigma didn’t try to cock block me.
“We should talk about what happens if he’s not balanced,” I said. “From what we know, it’s a bit like an omega’s heat with... alpha instincts. I’m worried, if he goes into heat, he won’t want us near.”
“But he loves you.” She looked hurt.
“I know, Little Omega,” Phantom said. “But he’s been treated like prey by alphas for a year and a half. In heat, it might not matter anymore who we are. And if you’re in heat at the same time…?”
“Let’s just talk through the plan. He has you, and that could be all we need.”
Her eyes lit up. “What does that mean?”
“He doesn’t have trauma around you, Princess. You’re the one who can balance him—like you balance all of us.”
55
KARMA
I still had to let off steam every day.
The feel of my fists hitting the worn leather bag we’d set up in the back forest released a tension deep in my chest. And giving it up would be giving up a part of me, a coping mechanism I’d used for so long it was deeply rooted in my being.
But I didn’t need the bloodshed, anymore.
Not the coppery scent of it or the glide of it on my fingers.
I didn’t crave the screams or grunts of someone succumbing to my aura.
Those feral instincts were nothing but a faint hum beneath the surface, something that wouldn’t rise in a peaceful place like this. How could I want to murder someone when the only people around were my packmates and omega? They were all safe, and my soul… it was soothed.
Better soothed when I was able to snag a few hours of Crescent cuddles.
Sin had been so fucking possessive the last few days, and he didn’t let me join unless I snatched her when he wasn’t paying attention. The only reason I’d get time with her was because she’d soothe Sin and insist she wanted me to stay.
He’d chill, right?
This intensity had to be temporary.
Either that, or we’d have to use the alpha hook on him after all.
I hadn’t given much thought to the sigma stuff the rest of the pack had been looking into. Omega, sigma, didn’t matter. Sin was just Sin to me, but even I had to admit in the two weeks since we’d arrived at the cabin, he’d been acting more and more, uh… alpha?
That wasn’t quite right.
Duh, because he was a sigma.
But none of us knew what to expect from a sigma, and all I wanted was some fucking cuddles.
Wiping sweat from my brow, I stared up at the sky. Cloudless today, with a little nip in the air. My inhales didn’t bring the musty, damp air of underground, and, but for my panting, the silence… was truly silent. No distant screams. Only birds.
Real birds.
We should get a bird feeder.
Sometimes things out here triggered vague hints of memory, and that was one. That barn, the one I’d drawn for Crescent with the mountain and the sunset, was situated by a house, I thought. Same kind of wood our cabin was built from, which was why I remembered it.
And the house had a bird feeder.
That’s about where my memories ended, but I’d drawn it all out. House, some bits smudged in graphite because I couldn’t parse out details, and that bird feeder, with—oddly enough—a barn owl perched on the edge. Pretty sure the owl should be in—you know—the barn, but my brain insisted on drawing it on that feeder every time I sketched.
I’d finished another sketch of that house from my memories last night—I’d give it to her, like I’d given her all the others. I loved how she grinned over the constant little gifted drawings, and it felt right to show her my little snippets of memory from before.
Today, I had an important set of three sketches for her, too. I’d been agonizing over them since we got here. Had to make sure they were perfect before I showed them to her.
I’d planned to give her my originals, which I’d drawn in Anarchy, but they’d been kind of… well, bloodstained. Very stained.
So I’d copied them onto fresh paper, and it took a while to get them right again.
I’d finally felt ready this morning, but of course, when I tried to approach her she’d been wrapped in a Sin burrito and he’d barked a command for me to turn around and fuck off.
The command’s talons weren’t gripping me anymore, so it was time for another try.
I stepped inside to the sound of Crescent’s cheery tone filtering quietly out from the room she’d claimed as her nest. “Can I have hash browns?”
“Coming right up,” came Sin’s response.
I grinned. Perfect timing.
I crept across the cabin and slipped into the bathroom right next to the nest. Steam filled the room and Phantom was naked, scrubbing, and covered in soap, but when he tried to question me, I pressed my finger to my lips.
He got it.
We were all trying desperately to get our allotted Crescent time.
By the time I heard Sin’s footsteps pad out into the kitchen, Phantom had turned off the shower and was frantically drying himself off. I didn’t wait for him.
I was down the hall and closing myself into Crescent’s sunroom in seconds, immediately smacked in the face by the strongest hit of desert eclipse I’d ever experienced in my life.
Damn.
My head spun a bit.
Crescent lit up when she saw me, only her eyes and nose peeking out from her blanket cocoon. She was quick to fling one of the blankets aside, welcoming me to cuddle up against her pajama-clad body.
“Come on!” she whispered urgently.
I practically dove into the nest.
Phantom was not as lucky. As the room’s doorknob began to turn, I heard Sin’s voice call out sharply. “Phantom.”
Perfect. I got Crescent all to myself. At least until the hash browns were cooked. We just had to make sure we kept talking in whispers.
“Brought you a gift.” I reached my hand into my deep sweatpants pocket and pulled out the pieces of sketchbook paper.
I separated one from the others and pushed it her way first. It was the newest house sketch.
She immediately grinned and pointed out the owl. “Is that kind of owl something I could see here?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. It’s a barn owl, I think they’re common?”
She whipped out her new phone, excitedly pulling up the search bar. Our internet took a solid thirty seconds to load the search for ‘barn owls,’ and then when she tapped on an article titled Barn Owls - Everything You Need To Know, there was a slow spinning circle in the centre of the webpage as it loaded.
Eventually it popped up, and according to the geographic range, we were in luck.
“If you ever see one, you have to come get me,” she made me promise.
I put my hand over my heart. “I swear. We’ll see it together, Moonlight. Do you want to see the real gift now?”
Her grin widened. “There’s more?”
I grabbed the other three sketchbook pages, thumbing through them to check them one final time.
The corners were folded, but not harshly, and the paper had a slight wave to it. I’d carried them around a while, making tweaks, wanting to make sure the sketches were perfect.
“Yeah. These… uh…” I stared at them for a moment, a tightness in my chest as I wondered if maybe, this was a terrible idea.
I shoved them into her hands before I could back out.
She looked down at the first one and gasped.
It seemed like it was a good thing until a tear leaked down her cheek, and then I cursed. “Fuck, I’ll—”
My attempt to retrieve the art resulted in a feral little growl, and my omega frantically pushing herself back away from me. I blinked down at the place she’d just been—which she was now about a foot back from.
Then back up at my omega with tear-shined eyes and an angry little pout.
Our bond was an eruption of hormones, and anything Crescent felt was a siren call to Sin, meaning I had about zero-point-five seconds before he burst in, hunting for my head.
“Do you… like them?” I asked.
It felt like a stupid question, but she’d cried. And then defended them with one of the most intense sounds I’d ever heard from her. But I was having trouble getting past the tears.
“They’re mine,” she whispered. “Forever. And they look exactly perfect.”
I slumped in relief.
As predicted, Sin slammed into the room. “What the hell is going on here?”
Crescent immediately lifted the sketches, struggling to hold all three in her hands to show them off, but I didn’t dare try and help.
They were all keys.
Not just any, but ones from her nest. Ones she’d had to give up—and her favourite ones of all, that still lived on her large keyring.
I’d memorized the curves and notches, drawing them out to be near-perfect representations. The library keys. The contraband room key. And the rut cage keys, both to the cage where Sin had claimed her, and the one she’d saved us from.
My racing heart calmed as I watched Sin scan the art, his annoyed expression softening. I don’t think he wanted to be hostile—he wouldn’t admit it, but we all knew his hormones were wrecking him right now.
“They’re pretty,” he admitted quietly. Sin crawled into the nest, leaning in to run his fingers down one of the pencil lines.
Of course, he didn’t get growled at for doing it.
God, I wanted sigma privileges.
I curled closer to Crescent, emotions feeling a little raw, tucking her head to my chest. Sin kissed her nose, then looked up at me assessingly.
“I’m not bringing you hash browns,” he stated. “But you can stay.”
Yes!
And by Sin’s grace, I absolutely did.
For a time, it was perfect. I don’t know how long passed, but all of a sudden he let out a snarl, and dragged Crescent away from me.
I froze, glancing between them. But there were hormones in the air.
A lot of them.
But this definitely explained a hell of a lot of the last week, because this was desert eclipse like it had never been.
The heat that had just hit their nest was definitely Sin’s.
56
SIN
