The Huntress Omega

Ingrid leaned back against the velvet headboard of her bed, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the blanket. The silence of her chamber was suffocating, her thoughts restless. She sighed heavily, pushing herself up. If she stayed there any longer, her mind would spiral into places she didn't want to revisit. The kitchen seemed a good distraction.

But as she crossed the hall, a flicker of movement caught her attention. Her steps slowed, and she peered out onto the balcony. Magnus stood there, his tall frame silhouetted against the inky sky. He leaned on the stone railing, the dim glow of the moonlight highlighting his sharp features.

Her lips curled into a sly smile. An idea formed in her mind-dangerous, calculated, but utterly thrilling. Rage was a man of power, pride, and possessiveness. Surely, seeing her with another man, even in jest, would stoke the fire she needed from him. Now, perhaps it was time to test the waters again.

Straightening her posture, Ingrid roamed out onto the balcony, The soft sound of her approach made Magnus glance over his shoulder. His expression flickered with surprise before settling into a welcoming smile.

"Ingrid," he greeted, his deep voice laced with curiosity. "Out for some air?"

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, her voice honeyed and warm. "Why are you out here alone? The party is far from over."

Magnus chuckled, his unease melting into casual charm. "I just needed some fresh air. Though I didn't expect to find company."

She stepped closer, her clothes and strands of her hair fluttering lightly in the breeze. "Then, should I just go back?" Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

Their conversation flowed easily, with Ingrid steering it with precision. Magnus, though initially caught off guard, warmed to her advances. He matched her teasing remarks with his own, his laughter rich and unguarded. Ingrid could feel the effect she had on him, and she leaned into it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him—Rage. He stood at the edge of the crowd gathered in the courtyard below, his piercing gaze locked on her. Ingrid's pulse quickened, not out of fear but exhilaration. She had his attention. His jaw tightened as he watched Ingrid laugh, her hand brushing Magnus's arm as she leaned into their shared joke.

"Well. The night stretches real fast. I think I should get going."

"Why leave so soon?" Magnus asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I'll see you around," she said lightly, turning away. She knew Magnus wouldn't let her go that easily. And she was right.

"Wait, Ingrid," he called, hurrying to catch up with her. "Let me at least walk you to wherever you're headed."

She glanced over her shoulder, her smile coy. "I'm perfectly capable of finding my way, Alpha."

"Humor me," he insisted, falling into step beside her. His presence was persistent, yet Ingrid knew how to use it to her advantage. She allowed him to follow, knowing full well that Rage's eyes would remain on them as long as Magnus stayed close.

Before she could argue, Magnus was already following her down the corridor toward the kitchen. She allowed it, sensing the opportunity to continue her game. The kitchen was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single lantern casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Magnus moved to the counter and poured her a glass of water.

"Ingrid," he called as they reached the castle's dimly lit kitchen.

She turned to face him, acting feigning surprise. "I told you, I can walk myself off but I appreciate it."

He smirked, holding up a glass of water. "For earlier," he said, his voice dropping to a tone she didn't entirely trust.

She tilted her head, her lips quirking. "A token of appreciation? Or perhaps an apology?"

Magnus shrugged, his smirk growing. "Maybe both. Sorry for touching you in some inappropriate places."

Ingrid took the glass, her fingers brushing against his. She raised it to her lips, tilting her head thoughtfully. Ah. So, he was still trying to smooth that over.

"A simple apology would have sufficed, but I suppose this will do."

She took a sip, her gaze fixed on him over the rim of the glass. The water was cool, refreshing, and for a moment, she felt satisfied that her plan was going smoothly.

But then something shifted.

The edges of her vision blurred, and her grip on the glass faltered. A strange heat coursed through her body, followed by a wave of dizziness so intense that she stumbled. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the edge of the counter for support, her breathing ragged. Her body felt heavy, her skin hot and damp. Panic flared as she realized what had happened.

"Magnus..." she whispered, her voice weak.

He caught her before she could fall, his hands firm on her arms. But his touch wasn't comforting-it was possessive.

"Magnus, what did you—"

Her words were cut off by his laughter, sharp and cruel. "You women," he sneered, his grip tightening. "Always so quick to trust, always thinking you're in control."

Panic surged in her chest. She tried to pull away, but her limbs felt like lead. Her vision swam as she realized what had happened. The water—it had been drugged.

"You bastard!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Let me go!"

Magnus ignored her protests, knelt beside her as his grin widening. His hand brushing her hair away from her face. "Don't bother struggling, Ingrid. It's pointless."

Her heart pounded wildly, her body betraying her as she struggled against him. She managed a weak scream, her voice echoing faintly through the kitchen.

"Get away. . .from me," she managed, her voice trembling with fury and fear.

"You're quite the prize, you know. It's almost a shame to ruin you."

He chuckled, leaning closer. "I'm going to fucking kill you once I had fun with your body."

Before he could act, a shadow loomed behind him, red pool blood-like eyes were floating in the dim room.

"Hands off," came a voice, low and menacing.

Magnus turned, but he wasn't fast enough. Rage's fist connected with the side of his neck in a brutal jab, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"What the hell—" Magnus gasped, clutching his throat.

Rage didn't give him a chance to recover. He was on him in an instant, pinning him down with a force that made Magnus cry out.

"What did you do?" Rage growled, his voice deadly.

Magnus struggled, his movements frantic. "I didn't mean—"

"Just fucking shut up," Rage snarled, his fist slamming into Magnus's jaw. Blood splattered on the stone floor, but Rage didn't stop. Blow after blow rained down until Magnus was barely conscious, his face a bruised, bloodied mess.

Rage carried Ingrid through the winding corridors of the castle, his strides long and purposeful. She was light in his arms, her breathing was uneven, and her skin burned like fire against his own. Her breaths are shallow and uneven. Ingrid's usual sharpness was absent, replaced by a vulnerability that twisted something deep inside him.

The doors to her chamber creaked open as he pushed them with his foot. He stepped inside and gently laid her down on the plush bed, the faint glow of the bedside lantern, her skin glistened with sweat, and her cheeks were flushed.

Rage's sharp eyes took in every detail, his concern mounting. Whatever Magnus had given her was still wreaking havoc on her body. He stepped back, running a hand through his dark hair, frustration simmering beneath his skin.

"I'll have the healer sent to you," he said gruffly, turning toward the door.

But before he could take another step, Ingrid's fingers wrapped around his wrist. The touch was firm, surprisingly strong, and her eyes-half-lidded and glassy-locked onto his.

"Don't go," she whispered, her voice breathy, almost pleading.

Rage froze, his muscles tensing as he looked down at her. "You're not in your right mind right now. You need to rest."

She shook her head, her grip tightening. Her breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts, and her eyes glimmered with an intensity he'd never seen before. "Please," she murmured, her voice trembling but insistent. "Don't leave me alone."

Rage hesitated, caught between his instincts to resist and the storm of emotions stirring inside him. He slowly sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep his distance.

"I don't understand what's happening to me," she admitted, her hand moving to her forehead. Her body felt like it was on fire, an unbearable heat coursing through her veins. Her gaze drifted back to Rage, and for a moment, she seemed desperate, vulnerable. "I feel like. . .burning. I don't know what to do."

Her plea stopped him in his tracks. Rage wasn't a man easily swayed by emotions, but something in her voice-a raw, unfiltered vulnerability-made it impossible to ignore.

"Stay," she interrupted, her voice trembling but insistent. Her breathing grew heavier, and her fingers tightened around his wrist. "Please."

"Fuck. . ." Rage's jaw tightened as he cursed under his breath. He could see the torment in her eyes, the battle she was waging against herself. "Ingrid," he began, but she didn't let him finish.

With surprising strength, she pulled him down, causing him to stumble forward. Before he could recover, she tugged again, this time pulling him onto the bed.

"Ingrid, stop." He said sharply, his voice firm but not unkind.

She didn't listen. With a burst of energy, she shifted, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. Her hands pressed against his chest, and her face hovered inches from his.

Her body trembled, a mix of desperation and the effects of whatever Magnus had slipped her.

"I need. . ." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need you to help me."

Rage's hands shot up, gripping her shoulders firmly but gently. "You don't know what you're saying," he said, his tone laced with tension.

"I do," she insisted, her breath warm against his face. "Please, I can't take it anymore."

Her hands moved, sliding up to his neck, her fingers brushing against his skin. Rage's entire body tensed. She was so close, her vulnerability piercing through the walls he had so carefully built.

"Ingrid!" he growled, his hands instinctively grabbing her wrists to steady her.

She leaned closer, her breaths shallow and erratic. "Help me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Make it stop."

Rage's throat tightened as he fought to keep his composure. Her closeness, her warmth, the look in her eyes-it was enough to test even his iron will. But he knew this wasn't her. This wasn't the fierce, calculated Ingrid he had come to know. This was the result of Magnus's vile trickery.

"Ingrid, listen to me," he said firmly, his voice edged with a mixture of authority and restraint. "You're not in control of your body right now."

Her fingers trailed up his chest, her touch sending jolts through him despite his efforts to remain stoic. "You don't understand," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "It hurts. I can't. . ."

Rage gritted his teeth. He couldn't allow this to continue, not when she wasn't in her right mind. Summoning his strength, he shifted his weight and reversed their positions, pinning her beneath him on the bed.

"Ingrid," he said, his voice low and steady, his red eyes locking onto hers. "Stop."

Her body writhed beneath him, her hands grasping at his shirt, her breathing ragged. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she fought against the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. "Rage, please," she begged, her voice breaking.

He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers. "You don't know what you're asking," he said, his tone rough, his restraint fraying at the edges. "But I do. And I won't let you do something you'll regret."

Her lips quivered, her expression a mix of frustration and anguish. "You don't want me?"

Rage exhaled sharply, his hands tightening slightly on her wrists to keep her still. "That's. . ." he said, his voice softening despite the tension in his body. "You're not in your right mind. Whatever you feel, it's the drug talking."

She stilled beneath him, his words cutting through the haze clouding her mind. For a moment, she looked at him with something resembling clarity.

"I trust you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on her wrists, watching as her body relaxed. He moved to sit beside her again, keeping a careful distance.

"You need to rest," he said quietly. "The effects will wear off. You just have to fight it a little longer."

Ingrid turned her head to look at him, her expression softening as exhaustion began to overtake her. "Please, stay. Just. . .stay." she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut.

"I will," Rage replied, his voice low, almost a whisper.

"I feel like I'm going insane," she whispered, her voice cracking. Her body trembled, her breathing was ragged, her face a mixture of frustration and confusion. "I just want it to stop."

Rage exhaled slowly, his hands still steadying her. "I will help you," he said softly, his voice losing some of its edge. "But not like this, Ingrid. You need to fight it."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded slowly. Rage stood quickly, running a hand through his hair, his body still tense from the encounter.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting his. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Rage sat beside her, his jaw tight as he watched her struggle against the drug's effects. His anger at Magnus burned like a wildfire, but for now, his focus was solely on Ingrid.

Her breaths came faster, and she tugged weakly at his wrist. "Rage. . ."

He shut his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded, to keep control. She let out a frustrated moan, her body arching slightly as the heat inside her refused to abate. But Rage held firm, his hands steady as he gripped her shoulders gently, keeping her grounded.

"I'm here."

For a moment, it seemed as though she would argue, but the intensity of her emotions began to wane as exhaustion took hold. Her grip on his wrist loosened, her breathing slowing as the effects of the drug began to subside.

"Stay," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"I'll stay."

As her eyes drifted shut, Rage sat beside her, his gaze never leaving her face. The vulnerability he'd seen tonight has burned something inside him—But still, he stayed, guarding her through the night, his own emotions a tumultuous storm he refused to let show.