Chapter 15

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A/N-

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in forever, I've actually been on ao3! (User: EchoingHowls)

I will still be posting stories here, but they will be a lot slower to update.

Also! For the occasional glimpse into writing Cerulean Feathers, head over to my Tumblr: (also echoinghowls)

Anyway, onto the story! 

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Reality seemed to have shifted.

Not enough to make conversations of it, but enough to feel it.

To sense it in the air.

All the Omegas had muttered the same comment,

"It wasn't Brock."

And the respective Alpha had asked who would attack the jay-wing.

Only one knew the answer.

However, he turned his back to the door Brian had vanished down, and where Jonathan stood speechless.

He knew he had gotten away with his attack for now, but he didn't know how much more of the lovey-dovey ogling between Evan and the jay-wing he could take.

He'd have to act again soon, and he would do whatever it took to make Evan his.

Brian hurried down the stairs after Marcel, blood roaring through his ears.

He had heard the murmuring from the Omegas.

They knew it wasn't Brock, so why didn't any of them say anything?

Brian barely resisted the growl that slithered up his throat.

Droplets of scarlet that reeked of lemon and creme trailed down the stairs.

Brian reached the bottom of the stairs, heading through an empty door to the left.

Marcel's smell of mud almost drowned Brock's lemon.

Three cells lined the walls on either side, with a bit of space away from the door for safety.

Marcel had taken Brock to the middle cell on the left, blood dripping from the Omega's nose and his eyes half-closed as he stared at the floor.

Marcel finished securing the locks on Brock's wrists, then closed the cell. When he turned back toward the door, his eyes widened. Brian let out a low growl, and Marcel took a step back but held the Alpha's sharp gaze.

"Brian, I'm just doing what Evan ordered. I know it wasn't Brock."

Brian stared at the deer-horn in front of him for several moments before taking a deep breath.

"Give me the keys."

He growled finally. Marcel huffed.

"You can't let him go. You know that."

"And you know I won't,"

Brian countered.

"Let me see my mate."

Brian tried to smother the desperation that clung to his plea, but it still managed to stain the words. Marcel sighed before tossing a ring of keys at Brian.

"Fine. But please don't take too long."

Brian caught the keys and hurried to Brock's cell, unlocking the door and enveloping his mate in his arms.

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