Essence of Quinn Parts 3 & 4 (MxM)

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Quinn felt Agrat’s imminent arrival, and he steeled himself. His body tensed and his heart picked up speed. He tried to calm it, but it was no use. 

It wasn’t a sound or a scent that first alerted him to her nearness. It was the familiar skittering sensation of the ether that clung to her like a second skin. He’d be able to recognise it anywhere—it clung just as tightly to him. 

Quinn shuddered. Couldn’t help himself. The ether had been strangely quiet lately, but he was under no illusions as to why. A reassuring hand on his leg had him turning his face towards Air. The gentle touch felt welcome, and it seemed to steady him. Having his mate with him constantly during his recovery had mostly shielded him from the ether, bar a few bits of intuition and fragments of dreams here and there. Nothing of much importance.  

It had meant that Quinn could focus on healing without the constant worry of having another devastating vision that could set his recovery back. It couldn’t last forever, though. Was only a matter of time before something would smash its way through, but for now he’d been appreciating the relative peace. 

Agrat, though? She was a reminder that however much he tried to hide from it, the ether would always be a part of him. 

He sighed, hearing hushed voices as Agrat and Svarog approached, and Air squeezed his thigh. 

A quiet knock at the door preceded one of Boreas’ guards opening it up, and the atmosphere thickened as Agrat entered the room.  

Her scent reached him as the door closed behind them. Frost and winter berries, with an underlying note of wood smoke. There was something else, though. Amaya. He scented his kit on her and gritted his teeth, a bite of anger and jealousy churning in his guts. This ghuleh had spent more time with his long-lost daughter than he had, and it made his chest ache. He kept it inside, though. It would do him no good right now to give into it. He had to keep himself detached enough to get his point across. 

Agrat’s steps were soft. Delicate like the ghuleh herself, but Quinn had never been fooled by her frail appearance. A core of pure steel ran right through to her marrow, and he grudgingly respected her for it. 

The ether stirred restlessly in her wake, crackling and brushing against Quinn like static as she passed behind him. He felt her eyes on him. Cold. Aloof. Assessing. He suppressed the shudder this time. 

The air stirred as the two of them came to a stop near Boreas’ desk. Svarog’s anger still burned beneath his regained composure, but Quinn sensed Agrat’s influence over him. Soothing him. Reassuring him. He’d always known she would be the more dominant one in their relationship, but he’d never taken the time to notice it in practice before. He also got the impression that their bond allowed them to communicate telepathically. Not many couples could do that. Itzal and Sunshine could. Quinn and Ashtoreth had been able to. 

This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. 

“Agrat. Welcome,” Boreas said warmly. “Please, both of you sit.” 

They provided chairs, and Agrat and Svarog sat to Quinn's right as instructed, with Earth acting as a barrier between them. 

“Thank you, Prime Ghoul,” she said. Quinn rolled his eyes—internally, though. He knew Boreas would be watching his reactions to her. “Let us hope we can sort out this apparent misunderstanding once and for all.” 

Quinn tensed further, gripping the edges of the chair he sat on. Earth sent him some calming magic through their pack bond, and in that moment he was grateful to the big ghoul, because he could feel the hold he had on his temper fraying bit by bit.