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Chapter Text

The French countryside was beautiful. The sky was a soft blue, while the air was clear and smelled of lilacs. Dew clung to the rolling grass. Clouds languidly floated above. Their little carriage carried them along just as unhurriedly. Their stallion trotted about easily, as if it also wanted to take in the beauty of France. The gentle rocking was soothing, yet it couldn’t stop Alexander Washington from fiddling with the quill he held between his ink-stained fingers.  

He gripped the tip harshly, his fingers turning red from the pressure. At one point he was writing, previous scribbles already dried along the margins. Now he simply held his quill, its feathery end tickling his bottom lip. He watched as the rolling hills passed him by, his eyes unfocused and unseeing. “Alexander?” The call barely pulled Alexander from his swirling thoughts as he hummed softly in return. His caller simply shook his head. “Alex,” he tried again, “Are you really this nervous?”

The accusation was enough to finally gain all of Alexander’s attention. “Nervous,” he answered, “Not nervous, per say.” The young man then paused, his quill back to his full lips as he thought his answer over. “Excited,” he threw out questioningly. He bounced his shoulders up and down to show what his words couldn’t convey. “Yes,” he finally decided with a snap, “Excited. Elated, even.”

The other passenger and Alexander’s father, George Washington, laughed. His deep chuckles filled the cabin with warmth. “Excited,” he questioned. Alex raised an eyebrow at the doubt, before nodding quickly. The older man sighed. “This is serious, Alexander,” he said. There was still mirth in his features, but his voice displayed just how serious things were. “This is marriage,” he emphasized, “This shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

The small grin that was blooming along Alexander’s face quickly faded. Instead, his eyes brightened with intelligence as he eyed the other. “I know, Father,” he said, “And I do take this very seriously.” He paused as he toyed with his quill again. He let it graze across the pamphlets that sat snuggly in his lap, tracing the comments and scratches that he added to their contents. “Yet,” he continued, “I can’t deny my excitement to finally meet the person who authored these.” He peeped down to the work again, reading its author’s name once more. “This ‘Thomas Jefferson Lafayette’,” he said, almost wistfully, “Government funded schooling, specialized Omegan medical professionals. He’s has good ideas, but how does he suppose the government will pay for these services when the war with Britain still rages on?”

Alexander’s father smiled fondly. “You know, he’s more than just an author of a few pamphlets,” he said through his smile, “This ‘Thomas Jefferson Lafayette’ is also your soon-to-be husband.” Again, Alexander nodded quickly, his scent spiking in excitement. Again, his father sighed. “Alex, please,” he begged, “The fate of both France and Nevis rests on this marriage.”

“I know,” Alexander answered in kind, “But these ‘few pamphlets’ are the reasons that I chose to come here in the first place.” He looked to the papers again. His fingers coiled around them gently as he caringly thumbed his fiancé’s name. His scent calmed and softened. “There were others I could have chosen,” he whispered, “But it was due to these that I chose him.”

“Is that so,” George answered. He sat back as he watched his son lovingly caress the name of a man he didn’t even know. George knew that it would lead to this, knew what he was doing when he laid those pamphlets about in their home months ago, yet it was still astonishing to see it with his own eyes. His son fell in love by simply reading. “Are you sure it’s not because Sir Thomas is the prince of France,” he asked instead, “Marrying him would make you a king.”

Alexander shrugged. “I was to be a king regardless,” he answered, “But the husband of an intelligent Omega wasn’t as guaranteed.” He looked up from his beloved pamphlets to dazzle his father with a cheeky smile. “He sounds so assured,” he said proudly, “His words are so concrete, despite his ideas being pulled from the clouds. He’s a dreamer, but I feel that I can make those dreams into reality.” He folded the pamphlets neatly before tapping them against his blackened fingertips. “I take this marriage and the responsibilities it will bestow upon me very seriously,” he asserted, “And these ‘few pamphlets’ prove to me that ‘Sir Thomas’ and I can rule a country together, maybe even two.” He paused to place the papers back into his satchel among his many ink pots and replacement quills. “In the end that is what matters the most,” he said seriously, “Can we run both Nevis and France together? I chose him because I believe that we can. His status, his looks, his gender – none of those things matter to me. None of those things would help me run a country, however his mind will. I chose him for his mind. I’ll marry him for his mind, and both Nevis and France will thrive due to his mind.”

A proud smile eased itself along George’s face. “I see,” he said, “Then I suggest that you’re at your wittiest.” Alexander looked at his father questioningly. “A man like that,” he said as he pointed to Alex’s satchel, “Won’t fall for just anyone. He doesn’t have any pamphlets to judge you by.”

The statement caused Alexander pause and for the first time since they set sail from Nevis 12 days ago, he was nervous. “You don’t think he would like me,” he asked. He then turned his hands upward, staring at his stained fingers in horror. “I can’t shake his hand like this,” he exclaimed, “Why didn’t you stop me from writing so much!”

“Alex,” his father deadpanned, “I couldn’t stop your writing as a toddler, what makes you think I can stop you now?” His son looked up at him, thoroughly betrayed. The childish pout and the jittery nature of Alex’s scent caused the elder to laugh. “Calm down,” he wheezed through his laughter, “I brought a bit of rum. You can use it to get the ink off your fingers.” He reached behind him to retrieve the mentioned rum, looking his son up and down as he did so. Another laugh bubbled out before he cheekily added, “And maybe you should sip a bit to ease your nerves.”

Alex slouched and pouted further, his scent coming down with him, as he accepted the rum. “I was perfectly content before you started questioning me,” he whined. His father only laughed again as Alexander rubbed fine Caribbean rum between his fingers. The ink slid off easily, just as it always does when he goes too far and stains himself. Though, now his fingers smelled of liquor.

Before Alex could even properly complain, he was faced with his father’s drinking pouch. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, son,” George assured. His previous giggles left a fond smile on his face as he watched his son pour water over his fingers. He then passed Alexander his pocket handkerchief, thinking back on all the other times he had to do this.

Cleaning his son’s hands of ink had become routine over the years, another duty he undertook in fatherhood. Every time Alexander wrote, no matter the reason, he always finished with his fingers coated and stained. George smiled. Alexander’s ideas were always too grandiose to remain stuck between his quill and his paper. And to think that someday his Alexander would do this too, would clean someone else’s tiny fingers of ink. It warmed his chest to bursting, and If George was being honest, he was just as excited as his son.

“I know,” Alex murmured. As he accepted his father’s handkerchief and patted his hands dry, he toyed with the thought of pulling the pamphlets back out. Reading them soothed his thoughts, made him more comfortable with his decision. He wasn’t boasting when he said that he had other choices. He was the Crown Prince of Nevis, and although his nation was small, many nobles clawed for the chance to become royalty. Yet, none of them felt right. None of them had piqued his interest. None of them had enraptured him like Thomas did with his idealistic ideals and well woven writings. Alex wanted this to work – needed it to. He was in too deep for it not to. “I’m just worried,” he confessed, scent souring, “I don’t want this marriage to fail. Not just for our nations, but also for myself.”

George watched as his son played with his handkerchief. He watched as Alexander’s brows furled and lips bruised between clenched teeth. “You really like him, don’t you,” George asked. Alex didn’t look up from his now clean fingers, but the blooming blush spoke volumes. “This is deeper than politics,” he deciphered, “It’s deeper than the war. Oh, Alex.”

Alexander’s blush only deepened, but he was never a man to bow his head for long. “I maybe,” he said chokingly. He shrugged his shoulders, falsely blasé. “He seemed interesting,” he defended, “Much more so than the other Omegas brought to me.” George raised an eyebrow. Alex then sighed and threw his hands up. “Okay! I mean,” he began flustered. His scent scuttered senselessly about and George simply watched his son’s theatrics. “I going to marry him, and I don’t want to be stuck in a loveless marriage,” Alex rambled on, “The war’s important, but if I’m marrying someone it should be proper. Right? So, I might have read the pamphlets too often, and maybe tried to decipher his personality from them, and maybe might have grown fond of the personality I detected within his words. Yet, you can’t blame me! He’s going to be my husband!”

George raised his hands up in surrender, fighting intensely to keep the smile that wanted to show off of his face. Yet, he couldn’t lessen the amusement that stained his scent. “Son,” he began, “I would be the last person to tell you that you shouldn’t feel fond of your fiancé.” He then clasped Alexander’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “This is good,” he said to his boy, “To feel this way already. It shows that your affection is pure.”

“Really,” Alexander asked. He was surprisingly bashful when he spoke, with his shoulders hunched and his face burning. This “affection” was new to him. He was usually so confident. He was well learned, so it was easy to be so. Yet, “affection” left him ignorant and insecure. “What if he’s nothing like I think him to be,” he asked, “What if it’s all just my imagination?”

George frowned. He was so unfamiliar with this side of Alexander. Rarely was his son doubtful. Though, of all things, it made sense that it was love that touched his son’s insecurities.  “It may be,” George decided to answer, “Thomas may be nothing like you imagined him to be.” These words only made Alex hunched further. “But,” the patriarch continued, “I think that you two will still bond well. I placed him among your picks for a reason.”

His father’s easy confidence caught Alexander’s attention, forcing him to uncurl and look up. “For a reason, huh,” the younger asked, “And what reason is this?”

George cheekily grinned, his smile matching his son’s earlier one. “It’s simple really,” he began, “I know Thomas’ mother, Jane Lafayette. She and I are old friends. She wrote me, describing her son as an ‘unorthodox Omega’. She told me that her husband was desperate to marry him off, and she begged me to send her a list of honorable, upstanding Alphas. Actually, she asked for me to name any Alphas that were similar to me.” The King of Nevis smiled proudly at his son as he let his words register. “I couldn’t think of another Alpha more honorable, upstanding, and similar than the one I raised – my son,” he said.

Alexander looked to his father feeling astonished and quite honored. His scent brightened under the unexpected praise. He didn’t know that his old man thought so highly of him. All of Alexander’s life, he wanted nothing more than to be like his father. If he could be even an ounce of the man his father was, then he had achieved all he’s ever wished for. To hear that his father thought that he was equally upstanding and honorable really assuaged his frayed nervous and silenced his whispered insecurities.

“I-,” he began before his joy held his tongue and wet his eyes. He gave a wobbled smile instead, and when his father smiled in return, he knew he was understood. “I won’t let you down,” he said finally.

“I know,” George returned, “I know.”

Chapter Text

The sun rose quietly. Slowly, soft yellows and blues peaked through parted curtains. The light was enough to brighten Thomas’ desk, engulfing his drying words with its rays and warmth. Thomas sighed as he capped his ink and cleaned his quill. It seemed as though it was time for his writing to end. He blew across the pages, gently urging his ideas to seep into the paper. If this was to be his last publication, then he wouldn’t stand for a single letter to be smudged.   

“Thomas?” The prince perked at the sound of his name without its usually attached titles and honorifics. Not many called him simply ‘Thomas’ anymore. Years ago, before things changed, his name was unchained. Now, though, nothing of Prince Thomas Jefferson Lafayette was unchained. “Are you ready for today?” The question was followed by the soft face of his mother, Jane Jefferson Lafayette. She peaked into his office, bypassing his bedchambers and its maids. “Dear,” she said as she eased herself into his space, “Have you been up writing all night?”

Thomas looked at the many papers laid out neatly around him and could see how she came to that conclusion. A guilty smile formed on his face. “Maybe,” he sheepishly answered. He shrugged in shame as he scattered around to retrieve his drying work, his scent just as scattered. “I did sleep some, though,” he added weakly, “I just rose earlier. I needed to write one last time.”

“One last time,” his mother questioned. She walked to him, stilling his hurried hands with her own. She took his new work and placed it back neatly upon his desk. “Are you deciding to give up on your work,” the queen asked sadly. She fingered the words forlornly, reading them as they passed under her finger. She smiled when she read her son’s rallies for equity and opportunity. Pride swelled as she read his demands for educational reform and better medicine. Her son was now so reserved, but when he wrote passion oozed from the paragraphs. The confidence that was stolen from him leapt from the page. She needed her son to write, she couldn’t stand to see this flame snuffed out too. “Reconsider,” she begged.

Thomas turned away from his mother and her plea. “It’s not my decision to consider,” he answered. If left to his own devices, he’d love to continue. In actuality, if left to his own devices, he would love to implement some of his agenda. However, he was an Omega. His choices will always be someone else’s to make. “When I’m wed, I doubt my Alpha would allow me to continue,” he said, resigned. He then turned to his mother with a devious smirk. “So,” he declared, “I have to give this last one everything I got. I’ll rally the people, really get them to see that things can be better.” He then sighed before smiling softly as his work. “It’ll be a final hurrah befitting a prince,” he said as he vainly flicked his hair.

Jane laughed at his theatrics before asking, “Your Alpha, huh?” She faced her son with an identical smirk, the sadness that tented her scent previously completely evaporating. Now that she knew of Thomas’ reason, there was no need for it. “If it’s your Alpha that you’re worried about,” she said slyly, “Then you need not worry.” Thomas frowned, his confused gaze following her as she flittered playfully around his desk. Jane finished with her hands on his shoulders as she shuffled him back into his chair. “I doubt ‘your Alpha’ would mind,” she said as she rested her chin upon his mused kinks, “Considering how taken he’s become with your work, I don’t think he’ll be complaining if you continued.”

Thomas turned around so quickly that he snatched himself from his mother’s grip, almost falling from his chair when it didn’t turn with him. He would have taken his mother with him if she didn’t move in time. “What,” he asked in a panic, “He read my works! He – I just – Whaaaaatttt?”

Through her laughs, Jane gave Thomas a good shake. “Calm down,” she spoke from her smile, “Yes, he’s read your works.” She then kneeled if front of him, rubbing his arms reassuringly. “And,” she began, “He likes them. Not wholly agrees with them but, he likes them.”

Shock and confusion colored Thomas’ face and scent as he let his mother’s words register. An Alpha read his work? His Alpha – his fiancé – has read his work. Additionally, he had opinions on them. While the Alphas in the taverns and the training grounds may have heard Thomas, none of them held true thoughts or opinions on his work. Noble Alphas wouldn’t even listened to him. To think that a prince, his fiancé, had read his works and held them in high enough regards to truly review them left Thomas slightly light-headed and very awestruck. “Maman,” he began as he looked down to her, “Where on God’s Earth did you find this man?”  

His mother gave a hearty laugh, before looking up at him with a nostalgic twinkle in her chocolate eyes. “Nevis,” the woman replied, “My home.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips with pride. “I’ve always told you that Nevis’ Alphas were different.”

Thomas nodded. That was true. He still remembered the tales his mother spun of her home island. Stories that featured clear blue waters and the Omegas that sailed them. She spoke of Omega soldiers and doctors, of humble nobility and benevolent leaders. Her tales always felt so far removed from him. The life that Thomas led, though gilded in gold and riches, were also abundant in walls and restrictions. His mother’s stories of freedom were just that – stories to him. However, with this new “fiancé” of his, a piece of his mother’s Nevis was coming to him. Her tales may just become his reality soon.

“Prince Thomas,” a timid voice sounded from his doorframe. The sound pulled Thomas from his musing as he looked to its source. It came from a small woman carrying his basin. The porcelain bowl was filled with various strings of lavender and different colored rose petals. “Are you ready to begin your morning routine,” she asked stiffly as she shifted uncomfortably at his door. Her fluttery scent further betrayed her nervousness.

Thomas watched her shift before he sighed and stood. “You know that you can come inside, yes” Thomas asked. The woman, whose name escaped Thomas at the moment, only shuffled some more before moving slightly more forward. Thomas sighed again. He knew why she behaved that way, knew of the punishment others would levy out for entering their office. However, Thomas was not like the others. At least he liked to think that he was different, but her reaction was a reminder that to the people that mattered, he really wasn’t.

He began to ask her to enter again, but his mother stopped him before he could. “You bathed earlier, yes,” she asked Thomas as she reached for the girl. Thomas nodded questioningly, but still allowed his mother to continue. “Then hand this to me sweetie,” his mother voiced to his chambermaid, “And hand me his royal blue dresswear as well. Oh, and don’t forget his hairbrush!” The woman scurried away to do as she was asked once her arms were free, taking the scent of soured strawberries with her. Thomas looked at his mother questionably, only to be met with her dazzling smile. “My son’s about to meet his fiancé,” she said proudly, “Do you really think that I would allow anyone else to pretty you up for him?”

“Pretty me up,” Thomas asked with a smile of his own. His mother nodded excitedly, and he couldn’t help but to shrug in surrender. “Fine,” he sighed, “But I’ll never understand why you insist on doing this.” He flopped unceremoniously into his office chair, scooching down so his mother could comfortably reach his hair behind him. “Doing my hair is a task for our servants,” he sighed.

She carefully parted his locks with her fingers, gently unraveling knots and tangles. “Because,” she said, “I wish take care of you.” She tied his hair into multiple sections, using his new puffballs to goofily wiggle his head around. “Plus, you look so adorable like this,” she teased. Thomas began to huff, but Jane wrapped him in a hug before he could. The joyful smells that had flooded the room shifted as his mother held him tight and placed her cheek against his. “I can’t do much for you anymore,” she whispered, “I can’t give you little baths. I already taught you how to cook, and how to sew. The student surpassed the master in those sections. You don’t need me to tie your laces or button your jackets. I can’t protect you.” She paused to clear her throat as they both ignored their wet cheeks. “You nor Gil,” she said despite the lump in her throat, “Not from the world, not even from your father. But I can do this. I can make you pretty. I can try to make you happy. I can try to give you a better life than the one I’ve lived.” Her words dissolved into sobs as she squeezed Thomas even tighter. Thomas held onto her wrist, rubbing his face against hers. “I’m so sorry Tommy,” she sobbed, “So sorry that you have to do this, but I tried to get you the best man that I could find. I really tried.”

“I know, Maman,” Thomas said from his heart, “Both Gil and I know.” He held her closer, twisting in his seat to truly hold her.  “I never blamed you,” he said as he held her, “Neither of us did.” He then plucked his mother’s face from his chest and smoothed her own fluffy kinks from her face. “I know how hard it’s been for you. I know how hard you’ve worked. I know how much you’ve sacrificed,” he whispered to her, “You have no idea how thankful and inspired I am. I’ve seen how much strength it took for you to survive in a loveless marriage, to survive being an Omega in a system that was built to destroy us. I’ve watched your strength and prayed for it every day. Then, I wrote and worked to create a world where I wouldn’t need it – where you wouldn’t need it. It might seem like I don’t need you, and maybe for the things you named, I don’t. However, I still need you. Your existence is a constant reminder of the greatness that I came from and the greatness that I’ll become. I need your guidance. I need your love. I need your strength and most importantly, I need your example.” 

Jane’s face and scent brightened up with every word spoken. She gave a wet laugh as she looked to Thomas with a smile. It seemed that some of her son’s rebellious ways still existed. Her husband tried so hard to destroy her Thomas, even took his brother from him, but Thomas still remained. “Look at you,” she said proudly, “Comforting me on your important day.” The comment caused Thomas to smile, and Jane felt an ease settle in her heart. At least this one’s going to be ok. However, her other boy… “I wish Gil was here to see you,” she thought aloud, “See how much you’ve grown.”

Thomas’ smile instantly disappeared. His scent immediately soured as a frown replaced his heartfelt smile. “Me too,” he said, “But Father made sure that would never happen.”

Jane sighed as she returned behind Thomas. She began to speak but was interrupted when the chambermaid from earlier returned. She bowed as she placed the basin within Jane’s awaiting hands along with everything else that her queen asked. She began to scatter away again, but Jane stopped her. “Sweetie,” Jane called as the maid reached the door, “Did you hear anything that you shouldn’t?” The maid paused before shaking her head negatively in a panic. Her strawberry scent spiked and writhed, revealing her lie more than her body ever could. “I think you did,” Jane said, and as the maid’s eyes widened, she continued, “And that’s ok. However, if my son’s name is mentioned outside of this chamber, I’d have no choice but to believe that it was from your mouth. Do you understand?” The maid nodded in the affirmative, again in a frantic panic. “Good girl,” Jane finished, “You can leave, and close the doors behind you.”

As the maid left, practically running for her life, Thomas faced his mother with an unimpressed frown. “You didn’t have to go that far,” he commented sourly. He pouted somewhat as his mother pulled out one of his pigtails. She wetted Thomas’ brush before using it to wet his hair. The add moisture helped the brush travel more easily, the bristles navigating Thomas’ kinks with relative ease. She started from the bottom before working her way to Thomas’ roots. “You petrified her,” he scolded.

Jane silently braided her section before moving on to the next one. “You and I both know that I did what I had to do,” she spoke eventually. She repeated the process with the current section, her strokes forcing Thomas’ head to follow. “Gilbert’s name is not to be spoken between the two of us,” she reminded, “It’s not to be spoken in the castle period. We could have gotten punished if she tattled.”

“Punished,” the word left Thomas’ mouth in an irritated huff. He folded his arms, his scent rising in anger before quickly simmering into anguish. “He’s my brother,” he mumbled, “Your son. We can’t just forget that he exists.” Jane tilted Thomas’ head as he spoke, her deft fingers know unraveling a section of hair at the front. “Father sends Gil away and expect us to forget about him,” Thomas frowned, “He’s my twin, the second half of me. I can’t just forget him.”

Jane listened to Thomas’ heartbroken words, hers breaking as well. She knew how hard the twins took the separation. Her husband forced her to read the letters that he intercepted. She would choke back tears as she read heartfelt pleads for each other and bitter apologies. However, Jane was determined to use her husband’s cruelty to her advantage. She told the two what their father had done, told them that she read their letters. Then she proudly became their liaison. 

She finished her last section, braiding that as well before she dangled a royal blue ribbon between Thomas’ eyes. “I would never let you forget Gilbert,” she finally said. When Thomas breathlessly grabbed the ribbon, she began unbraiding his now detangled kinks. She brushed them up into a high puff, Gilbert Jefferson Lafayette’s signature hairstyle. She then tied it with the ribbon Gilbert sent when he heard of his twin’s engagement. “And he would never let you forget, either” she smiled, “He wrote this to you ‘Sorry for my physical absence, but please rest assured that my spirit is with you. Let this ribbon be a reminder that though the promise was broken, it was never forgotten. I wish you the greatest of luck, Thomas, my other half.’”

Thomas sighed, a broken little smile upon his face. “Father’s going to have a heart attack,” he said softly, but unconcernedly. His smile turned into a little laugh as he felt his mother secure the ribbon in his hair. He silently wished they have done this in his bedchamber, so he could see himself in the mirror attached to his vanity. He wondered if he and Gilbert looked as similar now as they did ten years ago.

“Well,” Jane said as she backed away, job’s now done, “I hope he waits until after you’re wed. No need for his death to be a waste.” The morbid joke almost made Thomas choke. “Now look to me,” his mother smiled, “Beautiful. My son is so beautiful.” Thomas smiled bashfully, not truly accustomed to compliments. “Georgie’s son won’t know what to do with you,” she proclaimed proudly.

“Hopefully marry me,” Thomas laughed, “And maybe even talk about my pamphlets a little.” He added the rest in a quite whisper, shy once more when mentioning his works. “Or maybe a lot,” he smiled. His scent softened at the thought.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Jane smiled. She turned to look at Thomas’ face, turning it to-and-fro before deciding to pull little tendrils of hair from his puff to frame is face. “Georgie says his boy can chat up a storm.”

Thomas laughed. If his mother was using her little idioms, then she was happy. “Well,” he said, “Then he can handle all the public speaking.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Already planning on how to run a country with him,” she smiled. She then dusted her hands together, admiring her job well done. “Now get dressed so we can meet him,” she teased, “It’s not polite to keep a good Alpha waiting.”

Thomas returned the eyeroll but began to do as he was told. “Alexander,” he thought aloud, “Alexander Washington. Since you like to talk so much, I wonder what you have to say.”

Chapter Text

Alexander, for once in his life, was completely speechless. Yes, the castle was dazzling. He expected it to be. While different from the wooden mansion he lived in back home, its grander was not something that would impress Alexander. Their introduction was also quite the affair, with trumpets played by aspiring soldiers and flowers thrown carefully at his feet by graceful Omegas. Then there was the king and queen, both dressed in luxurious robes and imported silks, but so was Alexander. No, it was none of these things that captured his tongue. Instead, it was the dashing Omega that stood between the two royals that left Alex without words. Was this his Thomas? If he was, then Alexander was sure that all his luck had been used solely for this.

So many times, Alexander imagined his groom. Maybe he would be small, dainty and delicate, completely contractionary to the strength of his words. He could even be large and imposing, an unmovable force that compelled others to his will with his words as well as with his strength. Yet, despite his musing, Alex never imagined that Thomas would be a perfect combination of the two.  

First, Thomas was tall, almost impossibly so. His legs extended from his royal blue waistcoat almost endlessly. Wrapped in embroidered navy fabric, Alex could see that his thighs were shapely, thick enough to fit in the palms of Alexander’s hands. Yet, Thomas wasn’t a daunting sight. His eyes were large and clearly intelligent. His face was sharp but softened by his chubby cheeks and charming smile. His lips were luscious and full, the surrounding well-manicured beard complimenting them nicely. Simply put, Thomas was damn beautiful.

While Alexander was curious, he didn’t concern himself too much with the physical nature of their relationship. Now though, for the first time since this ordeal started, the foreign prince deeply desired to explore their physical connection – deeply desired to spread those long legs. He thought of placing his face between them, licking and sucking until his husband’s intelligent eyes glazed over and blurred with lustful tears.

“Alexander!” The young Alpha jumped from the sound of his name, his thoughts derailed. He turned sharply to his father and frowned at the disappointed smell that surrounded them. “Relax with the pheromones, boy,” George chastised, “You don’t want that to be your first impression, do you?”

Alex colored a bright red, his embarrassment nearly tangible. “I’m sorry,” he said with his head held low, “I lost myself.” George gave him a forgiving look and Alex only reddened further. “I just wasn’t expecting,” Alex said as he gestured to the prince across from them, “He’s – I wasn’t expecting it.”

George only sighed, happy that dozens of stairs and an equal number of soldiers separated the two from their hosts. Yet, the patriarch couldn’t become too angry with his son. He remembered feeling this way before, years ago when he was stuck between two women and unable to control his lust. “I understand, son,” he said, “But remember why you chose him.”

The words brought Alexander back to himself. He pulled on the strap of his satchel, the pamphlets inside refocusing him. “Right,” Alex responded, “His looks doesn’t matter in the end. The true test will be when he opens his mouth.”

The whispered affirmation brought a smile to George’s face. “Exactly,” he agreed, “Now bow.”

“I’m sorry what?”

Thomas watched, amused, as King Washington shoved his tiny son down to one knee. He didn’t think that his Alpha would be so small, so… adorable. Prince Alexander, his Alexander, was closer to his mother’s height then Thomas’. He had a soft, nearly delicate, face that was full of large and round features. His hair, though straight, was somewhat wild with its waves and singular braid behind his right ear. His emerald and gold vest sat snuggly on his broad shoulders and brightened his deep chocolate eyes. His cheeks were soft, and his smiles were boyish and mischievous. The prince held back a smile of his own as he watched the father-son pair throw heatless glares at each other. Their relations seemed so warm. Thomas had never seen two Alphas treat each other so fondly. He wondered if he, too, would receive the same playful glares and half-concealed smiles. He imagined them thrown his way across tables and during important events.

When those eyes did finally focus on him, the roguish smile from earlier settling nicely on the Alpha’s face, Thomas could feel his cheeks glow. He smelled his scent sweetening, inviting the Alpha to him. It was dangerous to do so, considering their onlookers but God, his husband was gorgeous. “Crown Prince Alexander Washington,” the Alpha spoke from one knee after his father’s introduction. He placed a hand across his chest, bowing properly now. “It’s an honor to meet you all,” he continued.

“The honor is ours,” Jane returned while Thomas remained speechless. She stepped forward some, tapping Thomas as a reminder to reign in his scent, before focusing on King Washington. “Quite a son you’ve raised,” she commented to the foreign king. The other smiled his thanks, and Thomas watched, enthralled, as his mother’s cheeks reddened. Her scent sweetened as well momentarily before the strong, domineering scent of his father masked it.

“If you call this an honor,” his father spoke sourly. He pushed between his son and wife to stand over his visitors. “Remember that if not for your Navy, you would not be here, George,” he snarked. With that he turned on his heel and retreated behind his guards and towards his castle doors. “Now rise,” he commanded with his back still turned. He then pointed to his advisor, Aaron Burr. “Direct them to the conference room,” he ordered, “We have a war to discuss.” Without looking for confirmation, the king left his royal guests standing at his castle stairs.

“It seems Peter is still the same,” King Washington smiled, despite his irritated scent speaking his true feelings. The queen merely shrugged as she led him inside. She placed her hand gently along his bicep, a calming measure that Thomas never seen her do towards his father, and used the contact as a guide to lead the other king along. The king simply smiled and shook his head fondly. “It seems that you are still the same as well, Jane,” he commented.

Unfortunately, the two walked ahead of them and out of Thomas’ earshot before he could decipher the madness he just witnessed. The prince was left dumbfounded. Nevis’ Alphas were different indeed. “Is your father always like this?” The voice disrupted Thomas’ bewildered thoughts, yet he was attacked with another reason to be off-center. He was now essentially left alone with his fiancé. “Actually,” the smaller Alpha continue, “Do your parents usually behave this way?” He smiled to show that his words meant no harm. Unbeknownst to him, his smile did more damage to Thomas than ease him. “Your mother knows that my father is married, right,” he asked semi-jokingly.

Thomas nodded in kind. “Yes,” he answered, “But it seems like today is the day she decided martial status no longer matters.” The Alpha chuckled at the comment, his cheeks rounding out and his scent becoming lighter. He was so cute to Thomas, so unoppressive. “I’m sorry for their behavior,” he voiced instead of the many compliments that flooded his brain, “And to formally answer your questions: yes, my father is usually like this, and no, my mother never behaved like this before a day in my life.”

The Nevis prince laughed loudly then, his face coloring with his amusement. The hallway was flooded with the scent of pinecones and evergreens, shrubbery and dusky oaks. “I’m sorry,” Alexander voiced between his laughter. Thomas ignored the unneeded apology. Besides, delight looked astonishing on Alexander. Unfortunately, the Alpha eventually sobered, his scent more contained and focused around them. It deepened some, coloring in flirtatious and sensual notes. “I don’t think I truly introduced myself to you,” he spoke. He then took Thomas’ hand and pressed a sweet kiss to the French prince’s knuckles. “I’m Alexander Washington,” he voiced into Thomas’ sensitive skin, “While I wish we had met under better circumstances than war, I cannot deny that I’m happy to finally meet you.” When the Alpha finished, he looked up with round, eager eyes and Thomas was done.

“I’m happy to meet you as well,” he finally choked out. He shyly pulled his hand from Alexander’s gentle hold, closing in on himself. “I must admit that I was nervous about this entire ordeal,” he voiced, “But I’m less so since meeting you.”

The confession caused the other to smile. “I’m glad that I can ease your fears,” he spoke, “While I know that this arrangement was for the war, I plan on taking this marriage seriously.” His face smoothed from his smile, his eyes becoming sincere. “I swear to be the best husband and Alpha that I can be to you,” he declared. He placed his fist across his chest as he spoke, a clear sign of a promise being made. “Well, for as long as you’ll have me, anyway,” he finished smiling again.

Again, Thomas’ scent sweetened, so taken by this gentle Alpha. This time the hall was filled with the smell of freshly fallen rain, spring blooms and morning dew. “I-“ he began, “Thank you.” The Alpha began to speak, most likely to tell Thomas that he need not thank him, but he paused according to Thomas’ raised hand. “You have no idea what you’ve saved me from,” he said, “And while I’m under no illusion that you are perfect, the fact that you are even willing to try speaks volumes of your character. So, I’ll be the best husband and Omega that I can be to you.” Thomas then smiled as well. “Well, for as long as you’ll have me, anyway.”

Thomas could see the other melt under his words. Alexander’s eyes soften, his scent light and affectionate. It mingled gently with Thomas’ own, blending into a sweet forest rain in the beginnings of spring. 

“Alexander!” Just as quickly as the spell began, it ended. King Washington bounded out of the conference room, anger radiating from his very pores. His once calming scent of gently burning firewood had descended into harshly cold ash. It was enough for Alexander to subconsciously feel the need to stand between his father and his fiancé. “Come now,” the king commanded.

Concern colored Alexander’s face, and judging by his confusion, Thomas could tell that he’s never seen his father this way. Thomas sighed. Peter always had the power to pull out the worst in people. “But-,” Alexander began as he looked to Thomas behind him.

“Now Alexander,” the king bellowed. The volume caused Alexander to instantly snap at attention, subconsciously showing his military history. “And bring Thomas with you,” he ordered.

Alexander reached for him, but Thomas pulled away. “I’m not allowed in the conference room,” Thomas informed, “No Omegas are.”

The king frowned. “So that explains why Jane didn’t follow me inside,” he mumbled to himself. He then straightened and looked to Thomas. “That doesn’t matter right now. Since it’s pertaining to your marriage, you should be there. You have my permission.”

“Our marriage,” Alexander asked. This time when he reached for Thomas, he succeeded. He squeezed onto the hand he now held, his scent rotting in his worry. “What about our marriage,” he questioned.

“Simply put,” King Washington returned, “It’s not as guaranteed as we thought.”

Chapter Text

Thomas stood bewildered and completely, utterly, ferociously livid! His scent swirled around him like a hurricane. It dampened the air, rushing and wild. He would usually tamper his scent. He knew the consequences if he didn’t. Yet, he couldn’t remain emotionless today. The lives of so many depended on this marriage. The life of his brother, fighting on the front lines, depended on this marriage. Thomas’ own freedom depended on this marriage. His father’s selfishness was going to kill them all.

“Do you understand the conditions to this engagement,” Peter questioned. The king looked between the youngest two from above his fingertips, his expression evil.  Thomas nearly growled after his father’s condescending question. “I won’t just give my son to just anyone,” the monarch explained, “You must prove that you are worthy of him and that you are capable of being a suitable successor.” He paused to eye Alexander, scowling at the prince as if the Alpha was nothing more than the scum on the bottom of his imported shoes. “You being the prince of an unremarkable island does not impress me, boy,” Peter finished, “Win us this war, and you can have my son.”

“Are you insane? We had an agreement, Peter,” King Washington argued back. He stood and placed his palms on the table between them, his muscles contracting in his restraint. “The only conditions to this engagement should be the use of our Navy,” the Nevis native continued, “To blatantly devalue my son in front of me is unacceptable and reason enough for war!” Peter cut his eyes to Washington at the mentioning of war, the warning within them unheeded. “Watch your mouth,” George warned in return, “Because if we were to fight, we already know who will win.”

“Exactly,” the other returned, “Britain will. I can always just give their pitiful king my son and be done with them, but what will you do? Your little merchant ships will still be sunk, your economy drowning with them.” The man then smiled. “You need me,” he asserted.

“No,” George growled, “You need me. You give Thomas to that man and all of France will become a laughingstock. Can your pride really take that, Peter? Can your pride take you running away again from Britain? Besides, who to say they would stop once they have Thomas? They’ll take your son, then continue to terrorize you constituents, kill your soldiers and ruin your reputation. You’ll be known as a weak king that bargained his way out of nothing, a fool.”

Alexander stood quietly, listening as the two kings fought. Slowly – silently – barely contained rage oozed out the younger Alpha. “Wait,” he finally spoke, voice low and dangerous, “You want me to single-handedly win this war for you? Is that the condition you’re asking for me to understand?” His growled question finally silenced the two, their attention solely on Alexander, now. Their eyes widened, both truly silenced by the rage that Alexander no longer bothered to contain.

Thomas could smell it as it burst into the room. The once comforting aroma of forest trees and sweet pinecones had dissolved into nothing more than unearthed dirt. It was as if an earthquake passed through and ruptured the earth, leaving nothing behind but upheaved gravel. It choked the air, enveloping Thomas’ stormy scent completely. Though that was to be expected, an Omega’s scent rarely overtook an Alpha’s. No, what truly surprised Thomas was that no matter how much the other Alphas tried, they were overpowered by Alexander’s scent, too.

A person’s scent was a testament of their physical and mental strength, as well as other things. Essentially, the stronger the scent, the stronger the person. When Thomas used to visit the training grounds, back when he was allowed, he often saw quarreling Alphas step down if they couldn’t overpower another’s scent. The other usually relented, knowing that they would be fighting a losing battle.

The two kings in this room were among the most feared and respect in the world, and Alexander, the smallest Alpha here, was easily overpowering them both. Alexander’s own father watched him warily, panicked as his scent lost itself within Alexander’s. It was hard for Thomas to even associate this overbearing aroma to the gentle man that he’d spoken to earlier. To think that the sweet Alpha he just vowed himself to could become this beast…

“Because the only thing that I understand,” Alexander began again, “Is that you’re a sniveling coward.” The room froze after the youngest Alpha spoke, shocked by his blatant disrespect. However, Alexander only took the continued silence as permission to speak further. “How dare you treat me, a crown prince, this way,” he challenged, “Prove my worth? Just judging by the scents in this room, I’m more than an adequate replacement for you, but that’s what scares you, isn’t it? Are you that afraid of me, Peter?”

“Afraid,” Peter repeated. A wicked smirk slither along his sharp, elongated features. Thomas shrank back from the sight of it. He knew what his father was capable of when he smiled like that. He placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder in warning, eyes begging the other to stop. The Alpha looked back to acknowledge the touch, but still stood strong. “What is there to be afraid of, little Alpha,” Thomas’ father teased, “You are nothing to me. You can’t even wed the person you wish without me.”

Alexander expression matched Peter’s. A smirk of his own blossomed beautifully along his face, reminding Thomas of the thorny roses he cared for in his gardens. “And you have no chance of winning your war without me,” Alexander retorted. His voice dripped venom. “You seem to forget who exactly I am,” he said. His scent soured even more, surprising Thomas further as it pressed down harshly on the others. “I was a Vice Admiral before I was a prince,” he asserted, “I, along with my father, was able to draft up plans that struck enough fear into the British that they released Nevis, one their more profitable colonies, from their ownership.” The Alpha then rounded the table and stood in the King of France’s face, unafraid and unrelenting. “We also scared you off before you could even try,” he smiled as he looked down on the sitting king, “And remember, my family and I were chosen to be royalty. We earned it. Unlike you, who was born into your status. As far as I’m concerned, I have nothing to prove to you and I’m someone you should be very afraid of.”

Peter growled, his hand posing to attack. Alexander only stood his ground, red flashing within his eyes. That was enough for Thomas to finally step in. He stood between the two, placing his hands firmly on Alexander’s tense shoulders. He massaged them between his fingers, looking into the other’s scarlet eyes as he spoke. “Alexander,” Thomas whispered. The Alpha perked at the sound of his name, now attentive to his fiancé instead of his opponent. “That’s enough,” Thomas continued, knowing that he now had Alex’s attention, “That’s enough.”

Alexander sighed but nodded. His Omega had spoken, so he listened. He let the anger drain from his body almost immediately. The suffocating, destructive aura of his rage crumbling until only concern laid in its wake.

Thomas could see the beginnings of an apology forming on Alexander’s lips, but his sight was distorted by the painful yanking of his hair. His head followed his father’s grasp, replacing Alexander’s apologetic face with Peter’s angry one. “How dare you,” his father yelled directly into his face, “Do you think you’re some type of hero? Do you think that I’m in need of saving?” The king then tossed Thomas aside, the Omega smashing his ribs into the table in the center of the room. “Stay in an Omega’s place,” the king finished. After that everything moved in a blur.

From somewhere Alexander produced a dagger, face feral as he dashed to press it into Peter’s throat. Soon after, George leapt into action, hopping over the table and grabbing his murderous son just in time. The Nevis king held Alexander by his wrist, the tip of the prince’s dagger close enough to cause blood to bubble over from the small incision it made. George shook from the effort it took to keep Alex still as Alexander kept pressing forward, the prince’s eyes a bloody red. “Alex,” George shouted, “Stop!”

Fearfully frozen, Thomas watched as his fiancé held his father at knifepoint. He barely saw it happen. Alexander moved so quickly. If Alexander’s father was just a second too late, the Crown Prince of Nevis would have been hanged for assassinating the King of France.

Thomas clutched his side, wondering how things soured so much so quickly, only to flinch painfully as the doors to the conference room burst open. Thomas’ mother, as well as numerous armed guards, quickly filed into the room. Thomas grimaced, worry flooding into his scent. He moved as much as he could, attempting to block the scene as the guards quickly drew their swords. Alexander didn’t even acknowledge their presence. He didn’t ease his pressure. He didn’t move from Thomas’ defenseless father, dagger only digging deeper into Peter’s throat.   

“What is the meaning of this,” Jane asked, bewildered. She moved to stand between the guards and her son as she calmly took in the situation. She and Thomas caught eyes momentarily before her gaze traveled lower to see him clutching his injured ribs. She took in the other Omega’s pained face and sighed. Peter never seemed to learn. She raised her hand to halt the guards. “Oh Peter,” she said as she looked down to him over the Washingtons’ shoulder, “How many times do I have to tell you? Nevis’ Alphas are different. You can’t behave this way and think you won’t be punished.” She then entered further into the room, allowing her scent of summer roses to fill the air. It held a calming effect, the various angry aromas erasing into nothing. As she rounded the room, she placed a hand onto Alexander’s chin and slowly directed him towards Thomas’ direction. “He’s fine,” she told the straining prince, “See?”

Thomas, picking up what his mother was doing, also released a calmer version of his scent. What was once a raging storm, he calmed to a gentle mist. He made his way over to Alexander, placing a calming hand onto the prince’s forearm. “I’m ok,” Thomas reassured. The two locked eyes before the Alpha finally relented, lowering his dagger and relaxing into his father’s hold. Thomas let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as things finally – finally – calmed.

Alexander slumped low into his seat. His head banged relentlessly, pain radiating from between his eyes. He watched as the guards filtered out on their king’s command, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. “Oh shit,” the Alpha prince cursed to himself, “I almost killed the King of France.” He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing as exhaustion weighed down on his limbs. When he opened his eyes again, he was faced with his worried Omega. Thomas stooped low in front of him, long legs contorted uncomfortably to be on Alex’s eye level. Whatever lethargy he was feeling instantly left him. He rose from his seat offering it to his distressed Omega. “I’m so sorry,” he said as they switched positions. He looked up at Thomas, his scent darkened by his shame. “I remember hearing what you said,” he said to the prince, “But then I saw you hurt and I just…” He then shrugged his shoulders helplessly, turning to his father for guidance. “I never felt like that before,” he said to the other Alpha, “I didn’t even have any control over myself. I barely even remembered what happened. I don’t even know what that was?”

“A problem,” the King of France stood, answering Alexander instead. He dusted non-existent dirt from his silk robes and held his hand to his wound as he scowled at his attacker. “An inconvenient problem,” he continued, “I should have you killed, boy.” Alex froze at the wording, slightly surprised that he wasn’t being charged and hanged. The king looked down his nose to Alexander then to Thomas. Pure hatred bled from his eyes. “The wedding will be in a month,” he ordered.

“What?!” Thomas was the one to voice the question. His scent spiked, reminiscent of a lightening strike in the middle of storm. It then rolled around him like incoming thunderclouds, heavy and foreboding. “Under what conditions,” Thomas questioned, “What? Why? Why would you just give-” The other’s disbelief was nearly tangible, and quite understandable, considering that his father just tossed him like a ragdoll into the edge of a solid oak desk. “Father,” Thomas began.

“You dare question me, Omega,” Peter spat in returned. Alex’s anger flared, ready again to protect, but his father was there to still him with a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see George shaking his head in disapproval. Alex heeded the warning this time, breathing to reign in his scent. “Finish your affairs by then,” the tyrant ordered. He then tuned in to Alex. He forced his volcanic scent outward and it littered the air like soot, falling heavily and poisoning anyone who dared to breathe it in. “And you better know this, boy,” the man growled directly into Alexander’s face, “Pull another egregious stunt like this one and I will have you hanged, little Alpha. War be damned.” The king then left, his royal robes fluttering dramatically behind him.

Alexander watched as the other left, somehow both relieved and apprehensive. However, Thomas quickly garnered his attention. The prince’s scent was still erratic, stormy and overclouded with desperate emotions. “Hey,” Alex began. He stood and pulled Thomas to his chest, taller than the other since he was standing while Thomas sat. He gently soothed the hairs along the other’s nape. The Omega wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist and breathed. “Good,” Alex praised, his hand running up and down Thomas’ curved spine, “It’s alright, now.” The Omega scent settled into something calmer, more of a gentle shower instead of a frightful storm. “It’s alright,” Alex assured, “It’s alright.”

Alex then released his own aura, allowing Thomas’ rain to wet and nurture his forest. The two comforted each other. Soon the room was filled with their intertwined scent, dulling every other aroma in the room. There was no more fire and ash, or summer rose blossoms, only the sweet woodsy smell of a forest rain.

Chapter Text

The mornings were always a moment for peace for Alexander. When the dawn broke along the horizon, the prince always took that time to reevaluate himself. He’d sit on his terrace, coffee in hand, as he either read something or hummed a slow tune. This morning, however, his solo musing felt lonely. He sat on the balcony that came with his borrowed bedchambers, fresh coffee sweetened from Nevis-grown sugarcanes held to his lips. He puckered them to blow on his hot beverage before taking a generous sip while also questioning the source of his melancholy. As he looked over the castle yard in front of him, he breathed deep. That was when the answer struck him. The neatly trimmed grass smelt of the early morning’s dew.

Alexander sighed, placing his coffee on the iron table that sat on the balcony. It was only his second day here, but he missed Thomas. “Good Lord,” the Alpha said as he flopped into the table’s accompanying chair, “What’s wrong with me?”

The question was one the Alpha had been asking since the near murder he committed.  He asked himself even as he was escorted to his new chambers by suspicious lancelots and delivered his bath waters by anxious Omega servants. What forced him to do something like that? While he was always a reckless man with a hot temper, he would never jeopardize the lives of so many so carelessly. So, then, what compelled him to behave so irrationally?

When he thought it over more, he knew the answer was simple. It was Thomas. Seeing his Omega hurt triggered something primal within Alexander. It ignited his bloodlust in a way nothing else, not even war, ever had. Even so, what compelled him to protect Thomas so wholly, so violently, in the first place? Was it really just the confident words of an intelligent, yet kind, leader that enraptured Alex? Was it the shy glances and easy laughs they shared as they walked the hall together?

Alexander didn’t know, and his ignorance frightened him somewhat. Yet, he didn’t want to pull away. Because it didn’t matter if there was another underlying factor that connected them, Alexander still enjoyed those laughs and shy glances. He still enjoyed Thomas.

“Prince Alexander?” The centerpiece of Alexander’s thoughts called for him, now standing at his balcony door instead of occupying his circular thoughts. The prince’s arms held a tray full of fruits and sweet-smelling pastries. Alex easily smiled at Thomas’ presence, fondness overpowering the worry in his scent. “I brought some food from the kitchens,” the French prince said. He then easily stepped into Alexander’s space, placing the tray on the table before returning to the door. “We usually eat breakfast together,” he continued, “But I notice that you didn’t come to dinner the night before, so I decided to give you something to tie you over until then.”  

Alexander took a strawberry from the platter, smiling goofily at it before taking a bite. “Thank you,” he said when he finished. He knew that he should say more but if he began to speak on how his heart felt, he may not ever stop. Instead, he smiled up at his fiancé and gestured to the seat next to him. “Care to join me,” he asked.

The other’s eyes widened, as though the thought of joining Alexander never even occurred to him, before nervousness swirled his once pleasant mist into an oncoming downpour. “You want me to,” he asked before he stopped to snort at himself, “He wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t, idiot.” Alexander snorted as well, unable to hide the amusement that fluttered though his scent. “What I meant,” the other tried again, “Is that your father said that you liked to spend your mornings alone. I don’t want to intrude.”

“First,” Alexander began, “You’re my fiancé. There’s no way you’d be intrusive.” He then paused to take another bite from his extensive platter, this time plucking a piece from a buttery croissant. “Secondly, do you see all of this food,” he teased cheekily, “I might be a growing boy, but I can’t finish all of this alone.”

Thomas laughed, shrugging sheepishly. “That is a lot of food,” he commented, “I honestly just picked up anything I could since I didn’t know what you liked.” He then eased closer, not quite sitting down, but clearing contemplating the option. His oncoming storm calmed to an almost playful spray as he smiled in return. “Plus, there are two chairs out here,” he teased as well.

“Exactly,” Alex exclaimed with a flourish of his arms, “Someone clearly wanted us to sit together.” The comment caused the other prince to roll his chocolate eyes, but he also graced Alex with a humored chuckle. “Who are we to deny him,” Alex finished, laughing as well.

“I guess you’re right there,” Thomas replied in kind, “We might be princes, but who are we to deny the universe.” Alex playfully shrugged in false surrender and gestured to the empty seat again. “If I have to,” the French prince said before finally joining his Alpha. “Honestly,” he began again. His demeanor softened, concern showing on both his face and in his scent. “Are you ok with me joining you,” he asked, “I know that yesterday was a lot for you. If you need more time to yourself, I’ll understand. I honestly just wanted to make sure you ate.”

Alex’s heart fluttered from the concern Thomas showed him, his previous concerns seeming so meaningless now. “I want you with me,” he answered honestly, “I was just thinking of you and how lonely this balcony felt without you.” Alex could see the other’s bashfulness, a small smile forming on Thomas’ face and spring blooms honeying his scent. The Alpha took his fiancé’s hand, gently caressing Thomas’ knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “So, I’m more than ok with you being here,” he finished. He then raised Thomas’ knuckles to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to them.

Thomas heart nearly melted through his chest. Alexander, with his earnest eyes and playful demeanor, was so different from every other Alpha that tried to force the Omega’s hand. He was almost like a dream to Thomas, and it left the prince breathless to think that this man could be his. If things went well, if they somehow survived the war and Peter, then Thomas could fully have this man. They could share more moments like this, where the morning was solely theirs to bask in. The hope that swelled in Thomas’ heart from the thought filtered through his scent, brightening it. It reached out to his Alpha, asking for more of his attention and affection.

Alexander smiled when he caught wind of it. He easily released more of his own aroma, showering Thomas in the attention the Omega asked for but rarely received. “How did you sleep last night,” the Alpha asked as he sipped his coffee. His easy affection dimmed some with his concern and Thomas frowned, disliking the change. “I wasn’t the only one that had a hard day yesterday,” he continued.

The question brought back memories of his raging father. The man was nearly inconsolable as he destroyed his priceless furniture and broke irreplaceable vases. Then he turned his anger to Thomas. The madman had stormed past his bedchambers and its maids, heading straight to Thomas’ office.

The king always knew of Thomas’ silly pamphlets and inconsequential essays. He allowed them because he also knew how little value others placed into them. Now, he seemingly no longer cared. Grabbing the closest candle, Peter brought the flame to Thomas latest work, the pamphlet that was to be Thomas’ last. “Make a choice,” the man had said the night before, “The Alpha, or your life’s work.”

Thomas had pleaded, told his father of the hours – days – it took for him to finish this one. He said that it was his magnum opus. His father didn’t care. He still told Thomas to choose. In the end, Thomas chose the Alpha. He chose the Nevis navy that would save his brother from certain death and win his people the war. He chose a life away from the crazed King George. He chose to keep the vow he made. Even more so, he chose Alexander. He chose the other’s boyish smiles and sincere character. He even chose the prince’s overbearing anger and overwhelming power. He chose Alexander, and his father was livid.

The man set his work ablaze, burning every word until there was nothing left. “If I see you writing another word,” the man threatened, his scent harsh and blackened, “I’ll hang you for treason. So, enjoy your choice.” With that he left Thomas to gather the ashes of his broken dreams, tears running unknowingly from the Omega’s eyes. He knew that this work would be his last, but he never thought that it would end like this.     

“It was,” Thomas began as he plucked a croissant for himself, “Uneventful.” In the end, he kept his trauma to himself, much like he always did. He smoothed his features and lessened his scent. “I was mostly worried about you,” he continued. That was actually the truth. After the destruction, when he finally laid down to sleep, he thought of Alexander. He thought of the Alpha he gave up his last for. He thought of the other’s fingers along his nape and aura surrounding him in safety. He longed to be next to Alex, to bathe the other in his rain until the doubt fell from Alexander’s features and the pain erased from Thomas’ heart. “That’s why I stopped here this morning,” he confessed, “I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

Alexander frowned after Thomas spoke, his scent rattling in irritation. A slight smell of upturned earth had entered the air and Thomas nearly flinched. It wasn’t as strong as yesterday, but it was clear that Alexander was upset. “You’re lying,” the Alpha said, “I can smell it.” Thomas did flinch then, closing in on himself and making himself smaller. “I don’t know what this is between us,” Alexander continued, “Why I can still smell you when I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t matter.” He then leaned further across the table, ensuring that he had Thomas’ eyes on him before he spoke again. “Let’s make something very clear,” he asserted sternly, “I don’t like people lying to me. If you want to keep something to yourself, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me, because I wouldn’t lie to you.” The man then sat back again, coffee back to his lips as he took the last sip.

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Thomas murmured. Fear choked up the back of his throat and pressed tears into the back of his eyes. His chest was tight, and his hands shook. He didn’t want to make his Alpha upset. He was just doing as he always did. He squeezed onto the croissant in his hands until it started to flake into his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Panic filled the air, the scent much like strong winds blowing through tree leaves and leaving them shaken in their wake. “Thomas,” the French prince heard the other say, “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I was a bit upset, but I’m not angry.” The prince then moved to Thomas’ side, placing his hands around Thomas’ clenched fists. “I’m not leaving,” he said, “I’m not going anywhere. Please stop.”

Thomas listened to the other, confused by his responses, before he realized the words that were slipping from his own mouth. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t leave me.” Each phrase was said in a higher pitch then the last. He flinched once more when their hands connected, but Alexander didn’t release him, instead lovingly caressing his knuckles like earlier. Distantly he could hear the order to breathe and followed it. He breathed in and smelled the scent of fresh shrubbery and sweet pinecones, calm bathing him in waves.

“Thomas?” When his eyes opened, Thomas saw his Alpha on his knees, their hands intertwined as worry creased Alexander’s brows and downturned his lips. “Are you with me,” he asked warily. Thomas could only nod. Relief flooded the other’s features, smoothing them into a tenuous smile. “Thank God,” Alex breathed, “Can you tell me what happened there?”

Instead of answering, Thomas simply pulled away. He was embarrassed beyond measure. He should have known better. He constantly told himself that his Alpha was different. That he was gentle with Thomas, sweet to Thomas. Even now, after Thomas angered him, he still smelled of affection and care and concern for Thomas’ wellbeing. So, then why did Thomas think of his father when he smelled Alexander’s irritation? Why did he think that Alex was going to lash out and hurt him? Why did he think that Alexander was going to leave him like his father did the night before, broken and tearstained?

“No,” Thomas answered eventually. He truly couldn’t tell him. He didn’t know himself. The response brought a frown onto Alexander’s face, but he still nodded in understanding. “I just wanted to eat breakfast with you,” Thomas commented quietly, “But instead I turned into a wreck simply because you were chastising me.”  

“I shouldn’t have chastised you so harshly to being with,” the benevolent prince said, “I just don’t do well with lies.” He then stood, releasing Thomas’ hands to cup his face instead. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way,” he said, “And I sincerely apologize. I won’t again.”   

Thomas opened his mouth to reject Alexander’s apology. He began to tell the other prince that the change wasn’t needed, that it was ok to speak to him that way. He was just being too sensitive. Then he remembered that he could ask for kindness. Thomas could ask for kindness from Alexander and the Alpha would be more than happy to deliver. “Ok,” the Omega said instead, “I would appreciate that.” The Alpha nodded easily to the subtle demand, not showing any signs of it bothering him. Thomas drank up the ease and decided to ask for another act of kindness. “Actually,” Thomas began, “Your anger scares me. Plus, its potentially hazardous to our engagement, so can you tone it down altogether?”

The Alpha frowned, and instantly Thomas knew he was pushing too far. How dare he ask for anything more? “I suppose you’re right,” Alexander commented. Surprise colored the air, fast and rushing like small waterfalls. “What,” Alexander questioned the smell, “I can admit when I’m wrong… sometimes.” The Alpha smiled as if what he said was unremarkable. He joked as though he wasn’t an anomaly, the very exception that made the rules that poisoned Thomas’ life true. “I can’t promise you that I’ll be calm all the time,” the Alpha said, serious once more, “But I can promise that I’ll try and that I’ll take your feelings into account.” Alexander then moved his hands from Thomas’ face to push back some of the Omega’s cloud-like hair. “I never want you to fear me,” Alexander tenderly expressed, “I never want to put you in the state you were in earlier again. It’s my job as your Alpha to protect you, to keep you happy, and I plan on doing so. So, if my anger makes you unhappy, I’ll try my best to keep it in order.” The prince then finished with a gentle kiss to Thomas’ forehead, before returning to his seat. “Now that everything’s back to order,” he smiled, “Let’s eat!”

Thomas couldn’t hold back his affection even if he wanted to. It poured out of him, crashing onto Alexander like a tsunami overpowering the shore. Thomas watched, amused, as the Alpha across from him nearly dropped his scrambled egg covered baguette when the scent hit him. The other coughed a little before laughing happily. Again, Thomas was gifted with the distinct smell of sweet pinecones and mighty evergreens that usually spoke of Alexander’s delight. However, this time the smell was brightened by fondness, affection, and a sense of duty – a commitment to Thomas’ safety and happiness.

“Yeah,” Thomas sighed as he reached for a raspberry crepe, “Let’s eat.”      

Chapter Text

It seemed that Thomas’ prediction came true. Alexander and he would share playful glares and half-concealed smiles across tables. After their shared meal, the two were forced to eat once more, this time in front of the King and his court. The meal was more like a small event. Well-dressed nobles gathered at well decorated tables to hear the current state of affairs from their king and his advisor. That was what it was supposed to be, anyway. In practice, the morning meeting became yet another place for Peter to assert his dominance and for the nobility to flaunt their wealth.

Thomas usually dutifully listened to these presentations. Despite how performative they were, they still gave him a chance to stay up to date with daily governmental affairs. Also, Thomas, too, liked to flaunt his wealth and style. He would enter the room dressed in the brightest of wear, earning some envious glares that he took pride in. Today he was dress in a soft lavender, hair woven into a more intricate version of his brother’s signature style and adorned with his crown. After so much deprecation, to be seen in even an envious light was a short reprieve. At least he was worthy of envy.  

Now, though, Thomas was too busy hiding his smile behind his coffee to care of much else. He held back a laugh as another course was placed in front of them and Alexander rubbed his stomach pitifully. The foreign prince shot Thomas equally pitiful puppy-eyes, silently wishing for this breakfast to end. An exasperated groan started from the stuffed prince before his father’s elbow silenced him. “Didn’t nobody tell you to eat so much earlier,” the French prince heard the Nevis King whisper. The younger Alpha frowned up at his father, before silently begging for Thomas to defend him. Thomas only shrugged his shoulders before taking small nibbles from his own plate. The look of betrayal Alexander returned was nearly enough for Thomas to spit his bites back out.

“Do you find something amusing, Thomas?” The question came from Peter and instantly Thomas ceased the small banter. The young Omega froze, fork raised to his mouth, as every noble’s eyes were now focused on him. His face heated up as embarrassment settled firmly in his chest. How could he be so careless as to smile during his father’s morning address to the noble court? How could he foolishly think that his father would be too self-absorbed to notice Thomas’ slip-up. Peter never missed a chance to embarrass him.  “I asked you a question, Omega,” Peter spat, “Do you find something amusing?”

“I-,” the numerous eyes caught Thomas’ tongue. They caused his scent to spike in panicked flashes, much like geysers bursting from the earth. He stared at his father wide-eyed and scared silent. The only sound came from Thomas’ forgotten fork as it fell back to his plate.

The extended silence only managed to send the king into a crazed frenzy. He stood roughly from his seat, his heavy chair scratching loudly against the marbled floors. He reached for Thomas and grabbed him from under his bicep, forcing the other to stand. He then pulled the Omega to the front of the room, near his throne, before shaking the frightened man. “Tell us, Thomas,” the king sounded, “What about war and casualties do you find so funny?”

Thomas could only stare out at the many faces that stared back at him. He could smell their disappointment. He could hear their sighs and their disapproving whispers. “N-Nothing,” Thomas barely mumbled out.

Peter only sighed before pulling his son closer to him. “What happened to you,” the man said so only Thomas could hear, “Did becoming a bitch change you so much? You had so much potential. Now look at you. You’re such a disappointment.” The king then shoved the other away from him, a scowl marring his face. This time when he spoke, he addressed the room. “This is why I don’t allow Omegas in our nation’s meetings,” Peter asserted, and Thomas turned in shock. No… He wouldn’t use Thomas’ one off day to condemn all Omegas. He wouldn’t dismantle all of Thomas’ hard work with one bad performance. “I know that some of you were considering granting Omegas permission to participate in our nation’s decision making, but this is a clear example of what will happen if we did,” he continued, sounding like the kind leader he never was, “They will only distract us. They’re much too delicate to truly participate. Thomas wouldn’t say, embarrassed as his was, but I know that he laughs when he’s uncomfortable and such talk would make any Omega uncomfortable.”

The nobles nodded reluctantly. They didn’t truly believe his father. Most of them actually knew Thomas quite well, knew what he was capable of. However, Peter’s word was law. They didn’t see a safe way around the system that they were forced to participate in. Besides, change would mean a redistribution of power, and those in power rarely released said power in the name of equity. So, they all nodded and agreed.

All Thomas could do was watch as another wall was placed in front of him. He spent years speaking with these nobles. They knew of his knowledge. They saw him fight tooth and nail to prove to them that his sex didn’t impede his abilities to lead – to think. They saw, and a small few were finally starting to do more than ignore him, finally starting to listen when he spoke. “Make a choice.” The words rang clear in Thomas’ head. “The Alpha, or your life’s work.”

“Dear God,” Thomas whimpered, “Dear God what have I done?”

Alexander watched, shellshocked. His body stilled, furious but unable to look away.  He’s never seen anything like this. How can a king – a father – go so far out of his way to harm his own son like this? Thomas was simply devastated. Alex could see it in every fiber of Thomas’ being, the tears that swelled in the other’s eyes, the hopelessness that sagged his shoulders and trembled his frame. He could even smell the defeat as it rained down heavily from Thomas’ scent, drowning the Omega in despair. Thomas was shattered and it broke Alexander’s very being. Yet, Alexander remained still.

The Nevis prince knew that he should act, that it was his duty to do so, but he’s never faced this level of unabashed ignorance and blatant hatred before. He knew that it existed. Thomas wrote of it in his work, but to actually see it with his own eyes left him speechless. The many times he scanned Thomas' words, felt the urgency in them, could never prepare him for what he just saw. It was almost beyond his comprehension. He dug into his pockets, thumbing the very pamphlets that he thought of. The surety they once brought him was now a distant memory.

Yet, he couldn’t just sit idly by as his Omega broke into pieces. He just promised to protect Thomas, to ensure the prince’s happiness, and it only took him moments to fail. He felt his teeth creak as he ground them together. Thomas didn’t deserve this. He fought so hard, only for this man – these people – to harm him when he only wished for their improvement. Some of the people here were Omegas themselves and they too nodded along mindlessly, callously joining in Thomas’ downfall. Damn them, Alexander seethed, damn them all.  

“Alex.” The upset prince turned to his father when the elder spoke. In his musing, he forgot that the other man was there. “Now’s not the time to get angry,” the king explained. The statement only rattled Alexander further, the gravelly scent of his rising fury filtering through the air. If now was not the time, then when? When Thomas finally gave up, too broken to fight anymore? Alexander refused to let it come to that. “Alex,” the king growled, “Grow up!” The words shook Alexander, confusion overtaking his anger. “Anger has its place,” George began, calmly this time, “But it’s not here. I understand more than anyone how you feel, son. I’ve been there, but your people – your Omega – they need a king not a tyrant.”

The words forced something to click within Alexander. His father was right, these people didn’t need a tyrant. They already had one. Now that his anger dissipated, he could easily smell the hesitation in the nobles’ agreement. It was fear of their king that forced them to nod along, forced them to destroy Thomas. If he wanted to keep his promises, to take his responsibilities seriously, he couldn’t rule through fear and he couldn’t be ruled by his own anger. He needed to be the kind of king that Peter could never be. He needed to be a benevolent king.

He breathed deep, shoving down his fury to replace it with his kindness and wit. He was going to outmaneuver Peter, kill him with kindness. Yet his kindness shouldn’t be confused with submission. He had no plans of waiting until Peter’s death before replacing that monster. Alex will swiftly smother Peter’s legacy of fear with his own legacy of respect and reverence. The man would be forgotten, his power stripped from him while he still sat on his meaningless throne.

Alex felt his father’s eyes on him as the king’s scent brightened and glowed. He must have seen Alex’s calculating frown, must have felt the cold that his anger simmered into.  The king smiled, because while Alexander was fearsome when angry, he was much more so when his mind was free to think and calculate. Peter might have thought that his little display sat Thomas back, but it only served to put Alexander into motion. Peter would rue the day he made an enemy out of Alexander Washington.

Alexander ignored his father’s pride for a moment to look to his fiancé. The other’s shoulders were hunched up. His fisted were clenched at his sides. His scent rose and fell with his concealed anger. Despite this, Alexander felt his own pride swell within his chest. Before this, he didn’t truly understand the depth of Thomas’ plight. Now that he does, he was even more taken with the French prince, impressed with how much the Omega was willing to sacrifice. However, Thomas needn’t to give so much anymore. Alexander was here to help now, and his first act was to put an end this foolish display.

“If I may interject,” Alexander began. He rose from his seat, the anger that once sullied his scent evolving into an immovable determination. It raised above all others, forcing the eyes of the room to focus solely on him. He rounded the table with confidence, placing a hand on Thomas’ arm as he passed. He wanted the Omega to know that he was there for him. When his touch was ignored, he placed his hand along Thomas’ cheek and dotted his thumb under the other’s eye, offering as much comfort as he could. While he did this mostly for Thomas’ sake, he also wanted those watching to see the display. This was how an Alpha should treat their Omega. Thomas removed himself from his anger, eyes on Alexander as the Alpha spoke surely to the crowd. “If Thomas’ display was so disgraceful, then I should be addressed as well,” Alexander began, “I was the one that caused Thomas’ laughter, not discomfort. We both weren’t fully paying attention. I’m equally as responsible for the distraction as Thomas is, and I apologize.” He then looked directly into King Peter’s darkened eyes. “It seems that Alphas can be just as obtrusive,” he finished, “At least this one can be.” 

The crowd paused, their scents fluttering with surprise. “I’ve never heard a noble Alpha apologize,” Alex heard one whisper, “Let alone a royal one.” Another whispered, “Is this the man to marry His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas?” They watched the foreign prince with cautious eyes, waiting breathlessly for his next words.

Even Thomas watched Alexander breathlessly, awe easing his storm into a mist. Slowly the scent began to change, however. Thomas’ own determination filtered into the room, blending beautifully with Alexander’s. It rushed like an uncontrollable river, glossing and watering Alex’s immoveable roots that rested along Thomas’ riverbed. Their auras were powerful together and every other scent in the room bowed before it.

“It’s true,” Thomas finally spoken again. He stood straighter, his shoulders back and his head held high. Finally, Alexander saw the confidence that he read in Thomas’ words. His eyes were sharper than ever, his intelligence undeniable. “I was paying more attention to my fiancé than the meeting. I made a mistake,” Thomas declared, and despite the submissive nature of his words, his demeanor was anything but.  “We both did,” he continued, “And we both vow to take personal responsibility for such an egregious mishap. If allowed another chance, we will ensure that it will never happen again. I understand that we represent many, including royals such as yourself, Father. So please, My Liege, do not let our incompetence taint your hard work and the hard work of others like us.”

Alex was, again, indescribably impressed. Thomas was phenomenal. Not only did he quickly understood what Alex was doing, but he also did the Alpha one better. He made the offence equal between both genders, using words such as ‘both’ and ‘we’. He even ensured to place the blame solely on themselves by claiming personal responsibility. Then he finished by using his father’s very own logic against him.  The king could not claim that one Omega represented the whole, while also claiming that his very own son was not a representation of himself. It would be hypocritical. It would make Peter a fool. Peter couldn’t generalize their mistake if he wanted his own reputation to remain intact. Thomas closed all options, made it so there was no way Peter could reject Thomas’ submission without further vilifying himself. Alex had to hold back the grin that threated to overtake his face. Thomas, with just his words, completely demolished his father. He’ll marry an intelligent Omega, indeed.

“I see.” A gentle, yet firm, voice sounded from the nobles. With it stood a beautiful Alpha. She was donned in a yellow three-piece suit adorned with gold stitches and priceless pearls. Her thick waves were styled intricately atop her head, resembling a crown or an honorary hairpiece. “A grievous mistake made by an adoring couple,” she commented. She then conspicuously winked at the two, before addressing the Crown. “Surely, we can forgive this, My Liege. For when has Thomas ever showed anything other than deep concern and compassion when faced with the death of our troops?” Other nobles nodded as she spoke, agreeing with her about Thomas’ nature. “Of course, such a strong bond would cause anyone to be distracted,” she continued, “We should rejoice, such compatibility speaks of equally strong children and thus a strong lineage. Your choice in suitor seems to have been a grand one, Your Majesty.” Her reasons played into the gender roles that jailed Thomas but eased the tension in the room. The other nobles smiled and laughed when appropriate, easily adoring the romance more than the politics.

“Thank you, Mrs. Church,” Thomas said with a smile. Alexander held back a scoff. He was somewhat thankful that she chose to stand with them, but he couldn’t deny his displeasure. He was smart enough to understand why this Alpha came with this approach, however. He saw why she didn’t want to completely undermine her king, yet he was still miffed by her cowardice. “Allow us to take the time to reflect on our atrocities,” Thomas began again from beside him, hand in his, “And next time we’ll be better prepared to be better examples.”

Peter stared at the two, hatred simmering within his eyes. He knew that he had lost. He also knew that, while not listened to, both Thomas and Gilbert were well liked. However, that never mattered before, because no matter how well the twins were liked, no one would risk their comfort for them. Though, it seemed that things were changing. If a meager noblewoman was willing to interject in Thomas’ defense, then Peter knew that he was losing his grip. “Very well,” the man growled. He was reluctant to accept his defeat, but not even his hazardous soot could overpower the strong aroma of deeply rooted oaks and powerfully rushing rivers. “You two are dismissed, so there are no further disruptions,” he commanded. He then spoke again as the couple turned to leave. “You two will reflect separately,” the king ordered, “And then report to me in the afternoon when you are ready to share what you’ve learned.” 

The two nodded, before Thomas suddenly released his hand. The Alpha watched as the other let out a breath before he hurried out of the door. The overwhelming relief he smelled from Thomas disturbed Alexander. Just how bad were things here? Alexander sighed before he too, left the room. Seemed as though Thomas was right. Alexander didn’t know what he was saving Thomas from, but the Alpha was determined to find out.

Chapter Text

Alexander realized that he took the castle’s size for granted. He was never one to be too impressed with materialistic things. He was poor enough, recently enough, to know the value of money, but he never paid much attention to grandeur. However, the prince now wished that he paid more attention to the halls he wound down on his way to his bedchambers last night. Maybe if he actually paid attention to these gilded lamps and immaculate portraits, he wouldn’t be so utterly lost.

The Alpha turned down another hallway, hoping to see a bouncing ponytail or smell a drop of rain – anything to direct him to Thomas’ location. “Crown Prince Alexander!” The prince rounded at the sound of his name. His scent fluttered with relief at being found, until he saw who found him. The “advisor”, Burr, if he remembered correctly, bounded to him in hurried steps. “Your Royal Highness,” the other called and the title caused Alex to wrinkle his nose in distaste.

“What can I do for you?” The question left Alexander’s mouth harshly, lashing out like the quick snap of a whip. He had better things to do then to listen to the King’s lackey. The Alpha watched, unimpressed as the other took the final steps to him. Small bits of panic showed in the man’s usually concealed expression, the subtle scent of almonds sifting through the air. “You’re an Omega,” Alexander questioned despite himself. Shock shimmered in both of their scents after the unexpected question.

The newly discovered Omega smiled a tight smile, forcing his scent even closer to himself. “You and your little speech back there kept me from losing my position,” the advisor gave instead of an answer, “So allow me to give you a little speech to keep you from losing yours.” Alexander raised an eyebrow, suspicion clear in his woodsy scent. It filled the halls with the fragrance of dying leaves and impending winter. The Omega only raised his hands up in a surrendering gesture, sincerity softening his dark eyes. “I mean you no harm, Your Royal Highness.”

Despite the other’s intentions, the moniker only darkened Alexander’s scent further. “Alexander works just fine,” the prince corrected. He then shifted to fully face the Omega, squaring his shoulders as he stared the other down. “You never answered my question,” Alex said, noticing the misdirection, “What do you want and what’s in it for you? I doubt your king would appreciate you speaking with me.”

“My king, huh,” the Omega spat. He allowed his smile to loosen some, making it devilish and sly. The expression caused the hairs on the back of Alexander’s neck to stand on end. “Can you keep a secret, Alexander,” the other said, voice smooth and calm despite the menace painted on his face. Alexander only nodded, silently regretting allowing the advisor use of his first name. “Between you and me,” the Omega began, “No one wants that fool, Peter, dead more than me.” The ease of which Burr uttered such treasonous words left Alexander’s mouth agape. Dear Lord, what did he get himself into? “I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to serve you, and despite your spectacular display earlier, I’m still not sure,” the man continued, “But I know that I can’t serve under Peter for another moment. He runs this country like a spoiled child plays with a new toy. He’ll run it into the ground, and then hold out his hand for another one. Unfortunately, there is only one France, and once it’s destroyed there will be no new one. Our economy is in shambles, our citizens on the brink of starvation. Meanwhile, the war robs us of more and more Alphas every single day, as their awaiting Omegas die from rape, disease and poor healthcare. Plus, Peter’s poor diplomacy skills have cost us countless allies, to the point where we can’t even trade for sugar anywhere else outside of Nevis. France is on a downward spiral, Alexander. We’re on the brink of collapse, but the King cares more about his own power and riches than his failing nation.”

The words shook Alexander to his core. He knew that Peter was a tyrant, have seen it with his own eyes, but he didn’t know it was to this extent. To rule so poorly that it forced his very own advisor to conspire against him, to even wish his death, it was so far beyond Alexander’s comprehension. “Look,” Alexander responded, “I can’t do much right now. I don’t know much.” The confession was hard to utter. He was beginning to tire of being so ignorant. “But if I can save this country from Peter’s destructive leadership, then I will,” he declared.

“I know,” Burr easily answered, “That’s why I’m here.” He then reached into an inner pocket within his waistcoat. The compartment was completely hidden, and Alexander wouldn’t have known of it if Burr didn’t reach into it in front of him. Though, Alexander felt that was the idea. Burr was revealing little secrets to him, allowing Alexander in to win the Alpha’s trust. Alexander saw what the other was doing – allowing Alex to smell his Omega scent, spilling his hatred for the king, pulling out secrets from secret pockets – but Alexander couldn’t decipher for the life of him if it was sincere or not. Alexander just wasn’t used to this level of trickery and foul play. His father’s rule was straightforward and honest. Things in France were so different. “Do you know what this is,” the advisor asked as he handed the prince a sack.

Alexander opened it only to see ash. “No,” the prince returned. He reached to hand the sack back, not sure if he was holding something incriminating. With the murderous stench that seemed to cling to the Omega he couldn’t be sure if he was holding someone’s remains or not.

However, the Omega simply pushed it back into Alexander’s hold. “You want to hold on to that,” he voiced, “It’ll be important once you find Sir Thomas.”

 Alexander paused. “Sir Thomas,” he asked, “Not His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas?” Thomas’ name, coming so casually from this man’s mouth, startled him. The emotion fluttered through his scent before he could stop it, erupting in short bursts of wind-kicked earth and fallen tree branches.

Burr clearly picked up on the change of scent and smiled. He genuinely smiled. The shadows that darkened his eyes and the lines that harshened his face faded, and all that stood there was a brittle little smile. “Why so surprised,” the Omega asked, although he already knew, “Was the informal way I addressed Thomas really so astonishing?” He stopped to stare off into a little alcove, the nook just as hidden to Alexander as Burr’s secret pockets and true feelings.  “You know, he and I were friends once,” he spoke towards the alcove, “Thomas, his brother, James and I; we were all friends once.” Just as quickly as the smile formed, it crumbled under the sorrow that lived in Burr’s scent. The air began to smell of burned almonds, and the Alpha in Alex whined at the deep sorrow that emitted from Burr. “I was supposed to be Thomas’ advisor,” the broken man continued, this time facing Alexander, “But then he presented as an Omega and everything changed.”

Again, Alexander was left lost and confused.  The words that Burr chose; ‘were’ and ‘once’; why were they all past tense? Why were they not friends still? Why would Thomas being an Omega stop Burr from being Thomas’ advisor? Thomas was still in line to be king, wasn’t he? He had so many questions, and he lacked so much information. How could he be a king, usurp Peter’s thrown, if he knew next to nothing? Hell, he didn’t even know Thomas had a brother. Yet, he did know one thing, this Burr character came to him for a reason. He believed that Alexander could fix this. So, he will. “What do you want,” Alexander asked again. This time, though, his question was delivered gently. His query behaved more like an opening door, then a snapping whip. “How can I help you, Burr?”

This time surprise colored Burr’s scent, sharp like the crack of an almond between one’s teeth. “Really, you’d – me,” the Omega asked. He then laughed at himself, as though he just asked a silly question. “Of course, you would,” he answered himself. He then gestured to the bag of ashes that Alexander still held. “First, we have to get Thomas to tell you what happened last night,” the advisor devised, “It’ll shed some light on Peter’s display today, and maybe if you play your cards right, Thomas might share a little more. What you’re holding is the ashes of Thomas’ latest pamphlet. Peter burned it yesterday.” Anger widened Alexander’s eyes as he clenched the sack. “Me too,” Burr said when he picked up on Alex’s gravelly scent, “But focus for now. We have to convince Thomas to write again, but under your name.” The demand caused confusion to replace Alexander’s anger, and the Omega only held up a silencing palm in response. “For some reason that the king won’t share with me, he’s forcing Thomas to stop his publications,” the man then paused to uncharacteristically suck at his teeth. The gesture was a little enduring and humanized Burr to Alex a bit. “And I put so much effort into convincing the nobles that they didn’t matter,” he mumbled under his tongue. He paused once he smelt Alexander's confusion again to explain. “The people outside of this castle actually quite adore Thomas and trust him more than they would their ‘king’,” the Omega began, “But if Peter caught wind of that, Thomas would be a dead man. So, we put up the act of ignoring Thomas. We do it so well that even Thomas believes we’re not listening, but we are listening. We’re listening to every single word. We were just waiting for some type of protection for Thomas before the people’s outlook start suddenly shifting. You, Alexander, are that protection. Even better, you’re just as smart as Thomas.” The man then paused to smile again. This time it was less sorrowful, maybe even wistful.  “You two will rule beautifully together,” Burr declared, “Just treat me as the steppingstone to get you both there. I might not be Thomas’ advisor anymore, but nothing can stop me from being yours. I am the advisor to the First King. No one specified that it had to be the current one.”

Alexander chuckled, unable to stop himself. Besides, Burr’s amusement smelt of chocolate dipped almonds, sweet despite its salty undertones. He relished in it, anything better than the slightly burnt smell that betrayed his perpetual sorrow. Though, he would be a fool if he instantly gave into this sneaky Omega. He could be sent by the Crown, used as a device to expose Alexander’s own treasonous thoughts. So, through his smile, he said, “I don’t trust you.”

Burr’s smile transformed into a suddenly barked laugh, his amusement only sweetening. “Good,” he said between chuckles, “You shouldn’t.” He then sobered, the sweetness in his scent quickly overpowered by a bitter burn. “I don’t know what the King may force me to do or say,” he shamefully confessed, “I might even be the person to lead you to the gallows, if it comes to that.” Again, Burr looked to the little alcove across from them, sincere desperation present in his eyes. “But I’d do anything for Thomas,” he declared, and the strength in his declaration floored Alexander. For once, the only thing that Alex could smell from Burr was the truth. “Peter forced me to do so many things that I’m shameful of, and I’m powerless in front of him, but no matter what he forces me to do, forced me to allege, Thomas will always be my King. So, if aligning myself with you helps Thomas get closer to replacing his monstrous father, I’ll do it. I would give my very own life if it would help Thomas become King.” When he finally faced Alexander again his determination was unfathomable, immeasurable. “So don’t trust me,” he asserted, “Don’t trust the words that come from my mouth. Don’t trust the actions that come from my hands. Don’t trust my reputation. Don’t trust my associates. Don’t trust anyone outside of Thomas and Jane. Instead, trust my dedication to Thomas, because no matter what those other things may say of me, my dedication to Thomas will never waver.”   

Alexander, despite not having a true reason to, believed Burr. He felt Burr’s dedication to Thomas, and it wasn’t too unlike his own. However, Burr’s dedication ran much deeper, as though it simmered and smoldered for years. It flourished freely, unlike the Omega’s other emotions, which he held close to his chest. It filled the halls, harden like an outer shield, protecting what was left of Thomas’ friend within “Burr”. “I’ll take your advice then,” Alexander declared as well. He’ll hold this man at arms’ length while helping to bring Burr closer to their goal… and Burr's friend. “By the way, when was the last time you spent time with Thomas,” the Alpha asked. Just how long had Burr kept this dedication, this love, to himself?  

“It’s been about 10 years or so,” he answered, voice just as smooth as if he was discussing the weather. When the reveal caused Alexander’s scent to spike, the Omega simply waved it away. “He’s in the garden,” he said instead, “He usually goes there when he’s upset.” He then paused and pointed to the alcove that caught his attention so many times throughout their conversation. “Go through there,” he directed, “It’s a hidden passage that’ll take you directly to where he likes to hide.” He then smiled slyly. “You might find something along the way,” he alluded. He then bowed low, crossing his arm along his chest, “Until we meet again, Your Royal Highness.”

With that the advisor turned on his heel and left. The smell of almonds disappeared as though it never existed, not even present when the Omega walked past. The act of the dutiful King’s Advisor was firmly back in place. “May our next meeting be just as pleasant,” Alexander formally called to the other’s retreating back, “Thank you for showing me the way.” The advisor smiled over his shoulder, satisfied with Alexander’s performance, before going back the way he came.

The gardens… Alexander looked to the dark recess he was directed towards, wondering what he would find. “We have a lot to talk about, Thomas,” he whispered to himself as he slipped inside. He fingered the pamphlets that were still inside his pocket, remembering his former confidence. He said that he had what it took to make Thomas’ ideals into a reality. Now, as he’s pressed between cold castle walls, he’s no longer so sure.  

Chapter Text

Everything was so cold down here. The walls were biting under his sliding palms, the air moist and stifling. The hall was small. The walls closed in around his shoulders, leaving little room for him to move. He had to duck his head low at certain points, stooping under stone arches as he navigated the curved staircase. Thomas gave a small mirthless smile – everything was the same as he remembered. The Omega stopped in the middle of the secret walkway, facing the wall beside him to place his forehead on the unyielding stone. He remembered the days he spent here, chemically-soaked towels stuffed under the doors to keep the smell of his heats inside. For two years he came here, hiding as he shook and whined his way through relentless heats. His heart would race, wondering if today would be the day that Peter found him. He would place his sweat soaked forehead on the wall, just as he’s doing right now, and listened for the echo of stomping feet. With bated breath, he’d wait, scenting the air for soot as the pains of his heat wrecked him. So, of course, he heard Alexander before the Alpha even approached. He smelled the rotting wood and the drying shrubbery as soon as Alexander opened the door.

 “You should be in your bedchambers,” Thomas said to the approaching Alpha. His voice echoed around them while his face still rested on the stone wall. He smelt the slight amusement that fluttered through Alexander’s scent, and the smell of sweet pinecones brought a true smile to Thomas’ face. “What are you doing here, Prince Alexander,” he asked, finally facing the other.

The Alpha had a saddened smile on his face, the dried leaves in his scent both bitter and sweet. “You don’t seem surprised to see me,” he commented instead of answering. He looked around the small stairway before eyeing Thomas again. “What is this place,” Alexander asked.  A frown found its way to the prince’s face as concern swam through his scent, and Thomas wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss it away. Happiness should be present on Alexander’s face, pleasure even, but not sorrow or worry. This man, that was always so ready to bathe Thomas with care, deserved to be thanked with Thomas’ lips, housed within Thomas’ body, and showered with Thomas’ ever-growing affection.

However, the question forced Thomas to cease his racy thoughts, killing the welcoming flowers that blossomed in his scent. “A relic from my past,” Thomas finally answered. He turned away from the Alpha after he spoke, his own scent souring as he thought of that past.  It was full of sweaty nights. The air always smelt of a tropical storm. His brother would hold onto his face, shaking Thomas to keep him alert as he cried for an Alpha that would never come. It held the smell of burning flesh, a white cloth held to Thomas’ scent glands as his former friend cried his apologies over the sound of Thomas’ pained shrieks. There was also the comforting scent of roasted almonds, days when he and Aaron held onto one another as they the cried about the cruelty of fate. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Thomas said with a melancholic smile, eyes glazed over in nostalgia. 

The Omega started when he felt a hand on his bicep, not resisting when that hand turned him to face his fellow prince. “It matters to me,” his Alpha declared. The certainty in his voice only served to startle Thomas further. How can one man care so much for a stranger? The hand on Thomas’ bicep traveled down his arm, fingers gently gliding over his inner-elbow and along his bare forearm before intertwining their fingers together. “I want to know you,” Alexander said, his eyes pleading. The expression looked misplace on the prince’s face and Thomas was sure that this man most likely never begged before in his life. Yet, here he was, practically begging to get closer to Thomas. “I want to right the wrongs that have been done to you,” he continued, “I want to reunite you with your friends, find out why you don’t talk about your brother. I want to oust your father and lead this country to the prosperity you wrote about. I want what happened today, to never happen to you again. I just want you to feel happy and safe. I just want-”

Before the Alpha could say more, before his words could rupture Thomas’ swelling heart, Thomas took him by the face and kissed him. The Nevis native paused between Thomas’ palms, shock rattling his scent like a fallen oak would shake a forest. Then he melted. He placed his fingers onto Thomas’ jaw, pulling him closer until nothing and no one could separate them.

Yet, Thomas wanted the other closer still. He turned and pressed the shorter Alpha into the cold walls and just as Thomas did earlier, Alexander didn’t resist. Instead, he tangled his fingers in Thomas’ loosened hair, petting and pulling, shifting so he could press his tongue between the Omega’s parted lips. Thomas ate it up, desperate to display his thanks, to show his affection, to let his Alpha know that he wanted this just as badly.

The two were breathless when they finally – finally – parted, eyes dazed as they stared at one another. “Thank you,” Thomas eventually whispered. He placed his forehead against Alexander’s, the prince’s skin so much warmer than the wall. His entire presence was so much warmer than anything ever allotted to Thomas. “Thank you so much,” he said again, louder and a little choked up. He threaded his fingers through the other’s waved locks, thumbing the braid that sat behind the other’s ear. He then moved lower, thumb tracing the two raised lumps that served as the other’s scent glands. His Alpha closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his mouth slack as his entire body shivered from the touch. That – that was the expression that should be on Alexander’s face, not worry. Thomas then kissed Alexander again, softly this time, right above his Adam’s Apple, before parting to watch him.

When Alexander could speak again, his voice came out in a small whisper, as though his words were meant for only Thomas’ ears. “You don’t need to thank me,” Alexander began. He then reopened his eyes, the large globes showing like rubies in the cold darkness of the stairway. “You never need to thank me for taking care of you,” he said, “You’re mine to care for, mine to love. Don’t thank me for doing something that I want to do.”

The words only made Thomas kiss him again, and again, and again. He pecked the man across the face, thumbing Alexander’s scent glands the entire while. The little Alpha laughed and shook from the attention, facing turning red as his scent filled the air. Thomas would spend the rest of this day smelling of pinecones, and the newly added smell of teakwood – Alexander’s happiness and lust. He’ll be looked at, thought of as a whore that couldn’t wait until his wedding, and each and every word of it would be true. How could he be expected to wait, when everything he’s ever wanted was right in front of him. How many times has he stood in this very hall, writhing and crying for just one good Alpha to come and save him? Now that he had one, he wanted nothing more than to indulge.

He wanted to consume Alexander. He wanted to swallow the prince down and just hold the other there. If only there was enough room here. He would drop to his knees and devour Alexander, knot and all. He would swallow and suck, choke and gag, anything to see the other’s eyes roll back as his scent overflowed. He wanted to cover himself within it, his inner Omega screamed for him to. It ordered him to drown himself in Alexander until everyone knew who he belonged to.   

“Yours,” Thomas said, his inner desires spoken aloud, “I like the sound of that.” He whispered the words into the Alpha’s ear, his scent rising much like the tides during a moonlit night. The aroma of his want blended well with Alexander’s, filling the hall with its dusky hues. He knew that anyone walking past would be able to smell them, would most likely choke under the strength of their combined scent, but that was what he wanted. Thomas no longer cared what they thought. What he learned today, as they stood strong in front of the court – in front of his father – was that together they could handle anything. Any criticism, any discrimination, any hateful attacks, together they would overcome it. “Would that make you mine,” Thomas asked, already knowing the answer, “Mine to care for? Mine to love?”   

The stones were hard against Alexander’s back, the air wet and oppressive, but none of it mattered. All Alex could feel, all he could see, was Thomas. He came here with a purpose. The sack of burned dreams was still in his pocket, while Thomas’ hopes and aspirations rested in the other. Yet, none of it mattered. All he could smell, all he could think of, was Thomas. Thomas, whose fingers were tangled within his hair, whose left palm cupped his scent glands. Thomas, whose thumb was tracing the fullness of Alex’s bottom lip, clearly thinking of kiss it again and stealing Alexander’s breath away again. Thomas, whose eyes now shone brightly, burning into Alexander with a new startling sapphire hue. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas.

“Would that make you mine,” Thomas had asked, voice barely able to break through the haze of Alexander’s thoughts, “Mine to care for? Mine to love?”  

God yes! How did his Omega not already know? He was Thomas’ from the moment he first read the prince’s name. Written in the most beautiful of script, clearly placed there with care and confidence. He was Thomas’ when he first laid eyes on the masterpiece that was to be his husband. Instantly, his inner Alpha reared up with the desire to please – the desire to claim. Even if Peter were to win, were to separate them, Alexander would still be Thomas’. Alexander would forever be Thomas’. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice leaving him as Thomas placed wet kisses on his throat.

The man’s lips followed along the column of Alex’s flesh as though he was surveying his territory, searching for the perfect spot to place his claim. When the other reached the juncture between Alex’s throat and shoulder, the Omega gave a gentle little bite. “There,” he then murmured into the skin, “I’ll claim you right there.” He nibbled and tongued the area, and Alexander couldn’t hold back the growl he let out in response. It rumbled within his chest, barely escaping his clenched teeth. “And I’ll be nice and sweet as you claim me, too, Alpha,” he continued, voice just as gravelly, “I’ll be such a good Omega for you.”

“Will you,” Alex asked into the other’s hair. His lust darkened his voice, and he felt the shiver that racked Thomas’ body from the sound of it. “Would you take all of me, Thomas,” he asked, and his Omega outright whined, nodding yes. The French prince was so eager to please. Alex pulled the other from the crook of his neck and gently backed him against the opposite wall. He rubbed the tip of his nose along the other’s Adam’s Apple, a pleased growl emitting from him when Thomas easily submitted and exposed his throat. “You would, wouldn’t you,” Alex said, “You’re already such a good Omega.” Thomas whined again from the praise, eyes squeezed tight. His poor Omega. How long has it been since someone praised him, told him how good he was doing – how much he was appreciated. “You already smell so sweet for me,” Alex continued to praise, “Already so soft, so willing.” The Nevis prince then softly placed his lips onto the inside of Thomas’ throat. “Look at you,” he said, the words pressed into the underside of Thomas’ sharp jaw, “Already so wet for me.” Thomas whimpered again, the aroma of his slick rising like waves, weighting the air with its heaviness. “You’re such a good Omega,” Alex said, his once gentle grip on Thomas’ waist becoming tight enough to bruise, “So good to me, I’m so damn lucky to have you.”

Thomas swallowed down what would have been a loud moan, shivers traveling along his long limbs almost unendingly. “No,” he said, the word lengthened by a high pitched whine, “I’m lucky.” He then tilted his head further back, his wild kinks spread out beautifully along the castle’s wall. “I’ve been waiting for such a good Alpha,” he said. He then turned his head to the side, exposing his throat even further. Physically, subconsciously maybe, he was asking for Alexander to claim him and Alexander heard the other’s request loud and clear. “I never thought that I’d find you,” Thomas confessed, eyes still squeezed tight. “So many Alphas were so cruel to me,” the other continued, “But you’ve been so good – so nice.”

“Nice?” The word, its desperate delivery, was enough to snap Alexander from his lust. His grip loosened once more, his want dissipating like someone just doused him in cold water. Nice? Just how cruelly has his Omega been treated that nice was something special? Alex’s scent dissolved into rocks as he thought of the implications, the possibilities. “You’ve been waiting for someone to simply be nice to you,” the Alpha asked, “You thought that you would never find someone to be nice to you?” Instantly, Thomas’ lust also evaporated, the rising tides swirling into a panicked wild storm. Their combined scents created a hurricane between them. “Why would you think that you’d never find someone nice,” Alexander asked, voice soft despite his rising anger. Like his father said, his Omega didn’t need a tyrant. He then cradled Thomas’ face and asked, “No, what did you father say for you to think that?”

Thomas paused beneath Alexander, the jaw between Alex’s fingertips becoming rigid. His scent became a flurry of sleet, icy and uninviting – harmful. “What,” Thomas gasped. He then pulled his face from Alex’s fingers, arms crossing in self-defense. “He didn’t,” the Omega began before stopping himself. He lowered his arms, running his hands over this locks. His once tense frame released its tension. His scent warmed, bathing Alexander instead of freezing the prince out. “I’m sorry,” he said, resting his forehead against Alex’s shoulder, “It’s second nature. I’m just – I have to protect myself.”

Again, Alexander pulled his Omega from his shoulder. “From what,” he asked, “Protect yourself from what?”  He forced the French prince to match eyes with him, following when the other pulled them away. “I told you earlier,” Alexander began, “I just want to help you. I just want you to be happy, and I just feel so useless.” The Alpha growled his frustration, slamming his palm onto the stones in front of him. “I don’t know anything,” he said, finally voicing his frustrations, “And it seems like there’s nothing here but more riddles to unravel.” He then sagged, his anger transforming into defeat. His gravelly scent grounded into dust, blowing listlessly in the wind. “I just want to help, Thomas,” he finished.

The Omega’s eyes softened from Alexander’s words. His heart fluttered beneath Alexander’s chest, the two so close that the foreign prince felt it too. “I know,” Thomas replied. He paused to run his fingers through Alex’s hair once more. A fond softness shown in his eyes, much more intimate – rawer – than the lust that was there earlier. “I know,” the prince repeated, “All you’ve done since you got here was help, and for that I’m so very grateful.” The taller then placed his forehead against Alexander’s again, his eyes digging into the Nevis prince. The overwhelming amount of affection there was simply undeniable. “I can’t wait to marry to you,” he said softly to Alexander. Their faces so close it was almost as though the words were pressed into Alexander’s lips. “I know that we haven’t known each other long, but I still can’t wait,” he said again, “I want this – you – so badly.” He then sighed, looking away, hiding after his confession.

The very same confession that caused Alexander’s heart to skip a beat. While he saw glimpses of Thomas’ feelings, there were parts of him that wondered if he was in this alone. He wondered if he was the only one feeling as deeply, or falling as quickly. To know that he wasn’t, completely erased his doubts. The winds in his scent grew stronger, matching his racing heart. The trees grew mightier, rooting themselves for they knew that Thomas’ rain would be there to nurture them. “I want this too,” Alexander whispered in return, words kept in the little space between them, “I want us to be happy together.”

“And together we will be,” Thomas assured. He closed the small distance between them once more, pressing his lips to Alexander’s as though he was sealing his promise with the heat of his kiss. “I learned something very important today,” he started when he pulled away, “I may not be able to best my father, change things, but we can. When Lady Church spoke of the power of our union, she was telling the truth. When Father was face with our combined scents, he couldn’t overpower it. No one can. Together we can win, Alexander. Together we can force my father to bow. Together we can do anything.”

Chapter Text

Alexander’s cheeks colored from Thomas’ words, the immovable conviction of them. His scent fluttered with excitement. Oh, how he misunderstood Thomas. Since discovering the other’s monstrous father, he thought that he would have to stand in front of Thomas, defend Thomas. Hell, even Burr thought that Thomas was in need of protection. It was only now that he realized that his Omega didn’t need a protector, but a partner. He needed someone to stand beside him, not in front of him. They were to change the world together. Yet, to be Thomas’ partner, he would have to be his equal. “Then tell me,” Alexander began, the two so close that his lips swept against Thomas’ when he spoke, “Tell me how to help you. Tell me what I need to know to stand beside you.”

The other prince paused, but only momentarily before he nuzzled his nose against Alexander’s. “He threatened to end me yesterday,” he whispered nonchalantly. The grievous transgression was shared as though Thomas was whispering sweet nothings between their lips. “He burned my latest pamphlet,” he continued, “And told me that he was going to kill me if I wrote another. He said that he would ruin me for choosing you.”

Alexander’s eyes widened, as Thomas continued to speak. He knew that Peter burned the pamphlet, but he couldn’t fathom that the king would do this.  He could feel his rage building. His promise was remembered, but so very miniscule when faced with threats on his Omega’s life. “What,” Alex growled. His scent never descended so quickly. It was heady and heavy as it flooded the small walkway with rising earth. It was choking and all encompassing. “He burned your work for choosing me,” he snapped. His words were clipped but quiet, their close proximity forcing Alex’s yells into whispers.  “How dare he punish you for the marriage he forced upon you,” he fumed, “Threaten your life!”

Thomas only threaded his fingers through Alex’s hair once more, petting the other despite the nervous shower that fell from his scent. “Calm down, Alpha,” he asked. He opened his eyes to share them with his Alpha, the calm in them somehow both soothing and irritating to Alexander. How could Thomas be so calm? It was then that Alexander saw Thomas’ calm for what it really was –  resignation. It was resignation, but not to his father’s rule. Thomas was resigned to the loss of his life. He was ready to die, willing to die, for his cause and for his ungrateful people.  

The anger in Alexander didn’t have time to feaster as despair replaced it once he realized Thomas’ true position. “He’d do it,” Alexander said, the words more of a statement than a question. “He’d really kill you.” He then backed away, the small hall not allowing him to go far, but he was far enough to watch the sapphire seep out of Thomas’ downcast eyes. “And you still defy him,” Alex continued, “You’re going to write another pamphlet.” Shock and panic raged through Alexander’s scent when Thomas gave a little nod, winds swirling uncontrollably as evergreens toppled to the ground. “Thomas!”

The French prince silenced his fiancé with another kiss to Alexander’s lips, yet the kiss didn’t sooth the other’s racing heart. “It’s ok,” Thomas replied, “I’m going to be ok.” Alex could only look on in confusion, the other’s words so much more reassuring than the smell of misty rain that colored the air. “I wasn’t going to at first,” Thomas began to explain, “I already knew that my pamphlets were going to stop, but then I met you.” He then gave Alexander a gentle smile, his expression soft despite its strength. “It’s been years since I’ve seen another Alpha stand up to my father,” he said, “The last one was my brother. When I saw you defend me, I thought of him. I thought of Gilbert and the promises I made to him. Giving up was not one of them.” Thomas smile became cheeky after he spoke, his scent the playful spray at the bottom of a rushing waterfall. Though joking, he meant every word. “I promised Gilbert that I wouldn’t let his exile be in vain. I promised him that I’d keep trying,” the prince said. He then stopped, his smile faltering as  he tried to keep himself composed. “I lost sight of those promises,” he shamefully confessed, “I almost let my father scare them out of me. But I’m not scared anymore, Alexander. You reminded me that I don’t need to be.”

Alexander’s returning smile was shy, gentle as he denied the praise given to him. “You were always brave,” he returned, “You don’t need me to remind you of that.” The man then reached into his pocket, pulling out the pamphlets that meant so much to him. He took Thomas’ hand and placed the papers onto the other’s opened palm. “The fact that these even exist speaks of your bravery,” Alexander declared.

“Maybe so,” Thomas agreed. He gently took the pamphlets from Alexander, thumbing them open. He laughed when he saw the other prince’s scribbles in the margin. He touched Alexander’s words with the same amount of reverence that Alexander touched his, reading them as they passed under his thumb. “’Financial sacrifice too great to complete during the war’,” the man read aloud, “’Have to establish school and practices for Omega doctors. Expensive, but possible.’” The other’s laugh only grew louder, lilies and tulips bursting from the sea of Thomas’ scent. “You really read through theses,” Thomas exclaimed, “You have opinions. I- wow.”  

Thomas’ childish awe was both adorable and a little disheartening to Alexander. It was then that Burr’s words registered to him. According to Thomas, no one truly read his pamphlets. To think that he was going to risk his life to continue to write them still… “Of course, I really read through them,” Alexander said instead of the many thoughts that circled his mind. Though, his scent couldn’t withhold the pride, the astoundment, that filled his chest. Thomas’ level of dedication left Alexander amazed. “I want to make these words into a reality,” Alexander confessed, his admiration loosening his tongue, “These are all the things that the people of France need – the things that their king should be providing for them.”

Thomas looked up from the pamphlet, eyes a little wide. “You really think that these policies could happen,” he asked, “Even with Father still on the throne?” His voice was unsure, but his scent was so hopeful. The lilies bloomed larger. The tulips smelled sweeter. “Do you really think,” he began, but the waver in his voice caused him to stop.

“I do,” Alexander answered. He then kissed Thomas this time, caressing the swell of his cheek with the back of his hand. “I believe it even more so, now,” he said. He nuzzled under Thomas’ jaw, placing small pecks as he did so. There was no lust, no burning desire to take, just the need to be close. “I was doubtful,” the Nevis prince voiced into the crevices of Thomas’ skin. His words hid in the shadows there, insecure in a way words have never been for Alexander. “I thought that I wouldn’t be good enough. Thank you for telling me otherwise,” he said. He placed another kiss just above Thomas’ Adam’s Apple. He absentmindedly thought of how beautiful his claiming mark would be if it was placed there. It would show handsomely in the center of his Omega’s throat, just high enough for everyone to see. The thought was not laced with lust, only pride.

“I’m only telling you the truth,” Thomas responded. His throat moved under Alexander’s lips as he spoke, his voice still low. A small laugh then rumbled underneath Alex’s pressing lips. “I know how much you hate lies,” the other joked.

Alex laughed as well, happy that their mistakes can become inside jokes after they were learned from. “Well thank you for being so considerate,” he teased in return. He then began to place kisses anew, moving along until his lips caught onto raised skin. He paused after he felt the scarring, backing away to see what he lips felt. A ragged scar was where Thomas’ scent glands should be, the skin morphed as though melted by lava. “What happened here,” the prince asked. He placed his fingers on the scar, matching eyes with Thomas when the other covered his fingers with the prince’s own. “Did your father do this,” he asked.

Again, Thomas gave a small smile, the bitterness of it reminiscent of Burr’s burnt almonds. “He didn’t have to,” he answered. He then stopped to sigh, the weight of it pressing against the fragile confidence that was building between them. “I suppose you’re right,” Thomas continued, his hand never leaving Alexander’s, “You don’t know anything.” He then gave a small chuckle, mouth opening to explain, when three knocks resounded in the walls around them. “Shit,” Thomas cursed, “We got to go.”

“Go,” Alex asked, eyes searching for the source of the sound, “I’m not leaving you.” His scent rooted, reflecting his choice to not budge. “I’m not afraid of your father, or any one he might send,” he said easily.

Thomas smiled genuinely then, face brightening. “I know,” Thomas said, “But that was my mother. She’s warning me that the Royal Guard is searching for me, and despite how strong you are, you can’t take down an entire royal guard.”

“You’d be surprise,” Alexander said. Shock flooded Thomas’ scent after he spoke, playful and slightly impressed. Alexander only offered a smile. “Your father asked me to defeat the British for a reason,” he said, “But you do have a point. A royal guard might be hard to take down by myself. If my brother, John, was here, it would be a different story.” 

Thomas’ shock only intensified, less playful if not more intrigued. “You have a brother, too,” he asked. The small splashes of his scent were almost childlike in their curiosity. “Is he older or younger,” he continued, “Is he an Alpha like you? He has to be if he’s a fighter. Is he as strong as you?”

“Thomas,” Alexander playfully snapped. The Omega instantly closed his mouth, embarrassment evident in his scent. However this discomfort was so much more playful here than in the dining hall earlier. “I thought we were supposed to be leaving,” Alex continued to teased, “I can’t give you my life’s story and leave at the same time!”

“Right,” Thomas choked out, shyly. Alexander could only laugh, his scent sprouting in fondness. Thomas could be extremely cute – adorable even. “It’s just,” he began, “You’re not the only one that wants to know more.” The other’s coyness was melting Alexander. “I want to know more about you, too,” the Omega confessed. A tiny whirlwind of embarrassment erupted afterwards, before an irritated waterfall soon followed. “God, Thomas,” the French prince self-chastised, “You done kiss the man! How are you still embarrassed?”

Alexander outright guffawed. His face reddened, his cheeks rounder and eyes smaller with his smile. Pinecones and shrubbery burst to life as joy engulfed his scent. “You are adorable,” he said to his fiancé. To which the man only sighed, before laughing happily himself. The sight was beautiful to Alexander. Thomas’ entire face lit up when he smiled. His sharper features softened and small wrinkles would form around his large eyes. His thick lips would part and his dazzling teeth would show from beneath. His scent would become spring-like, nurturing and birthing anew. Flowers would bloom and gentle rain would mist down. Thomas’ laughter nursed Alexander’s soul. “This is all I want,” Alexander comment quietly.  He was too mesmerized by Thomas’ joy, enraptured by the combined scents of their happiness, to speak coherently. “All I want is for us to be happy together.”

“And I told you,” Thomas returned, “Together we will be.”  The three knocks sounded again, this time much faster and urgently. “Time’s up,” Thomas said. Alex simply nodded, though his disappointment was undeniable. “We’ll meet soon,” his Omega reassured, “Just a little further down the stairs a door opens underneath the bridge in the middle of the hedge maze. We can meet there.” Before Alex could complain, Thomas gave one last kiss. This time it was placed on his forehead. “I’ll tell you everything,” Thomas promised, “It’s not ‘never’, Alpha, just ‘later’.” With that the two retraced their steps, exiting the walkway to go their separate ways.  

Chapter Text

The heat in the air was nearly unbearable. It was heavy and suffocating, gripping onto Thomas’     shoulders and sagging them. Sweat beaded down his forehead and embedded itself within his winding locks. His palms were wet, making his grip on his reigns precarious at best. Yet, none of that mattered. Nothing mattered when Thomas rode. The wind rushed pass him, humid and stifling, but so very freeing.

Thomas dug his heels deeper into his stallion. The large onyx beast heeded the unvoiced command and began to dash faster, leap higher. The path, covered in uprooted trees and lined with hanging branches, only became more treacherous the faster they moved.  Voices behind Thomas screamed for the prince to slow down, to be more careful, but none of them were heard past the wind rushing in Thomas’ ears. Fearful scents flooded the air, souring it, thunderous and choking in their worry. None of it mattered. Thomas tucked himself lower, closer to his steed, and steeled his legs around the horse’s middle. He laughed wildly, nearly hanging on for dear life. Nothing else mattered at this moment, only the speed, the wind and the thrill. Not even Thomas’ life mattered anymore.  

“Tomas!” Thomas knew why the other screamed, saw the pit. It was small, inconsequential if he was moving more slowly, but at his speed it would be enough to break his stallion’s leg and fling him feet away as they tumbled. He’d die from the impact, snap his neck maybe… if he was stupid enough to fall from it. However, he was too good of a rider to ever fall because of something so small.

Thomas sat up as though he was shocked, yanking like a madman on his horse’s reigns. The braided rope nearly slipped from his sweaty palms, but it was enough. His stallion jumped, the leap high enough for the tree branches to brush the top of Thomas’ head, before landing cleanly on the other side. Thomas then tugged again, and the horse stopped sharply – perfectly.

“Tomas!” His name was shouted again, only this time a knock on the noggin accompanied it. Gilbert Jefferson Lafayette, the illustrious Crowd Prince and Thomas’ older twin, frown as he knocked Thomas’ head again. “You reckless dog,” he chastised, “You nearly gotten yourself killed!”

Thomas only flashed him a charming smile, an easy shrug accompanying it. “It was only nearly,” he replied, “It’s nothing to be worried about.” His brother scoffed at his bravado, reaching to knock Thomas’ noggin again. This time, however, Thomas was fast enough to dodge. “You can’t get me with the same trick twice, Gil,” he said as he plucked fallen leaves from his mass of hair.

Gilbert only raised an eyebrow. “I recalled hitting you twice,” the older joked. The revelation caused a pout to form on Thomas’ lips, as his older brother laughed at him. “You’re not as good as you think you are,” Gilbert teased.

“No, he’s better.” The two boys snapped to attention, their playful demeanor a distant memory. Their father galloped towards the two of them, his steed stopping just inches away. With his overbearing robes and gigantic white and black stallion, Peter was an imposing sight. So much so, the twins inched closer to one another, subconsciously seeking each other for protection. “You did well, Thomas,” the man commented. He moved close enough to place his palm onto Thomas’ kinks. His fingers dug, his nail biting into Thomas’ scalp before he let go. “It was daring,” Peter declared, “But you need to daring in order to be a good king.”

The two boys shared a look after their father spoke, the silent conversation fearful and confused. Though their father was giving praises, advice even, he seemed off. He seemed dangerous. His volcanic scent was held close to his chest, but still filled the air with its dense acidic tones. Usually their father’s anger burst from him, nearly uncontrollable – unstoppable – like a volcano. However, now he was careful. His anger cold and captured. He was furious, but not at them.

“Thank you, Father,” Thomas said. He kept his voice leveled, minutely placing him and his horse in front of his brother. “I’m surprised that you are here,” he commented, false ease making his question blasé, “I thought that you were holding a meeting with the Spanish diplomats that arrived this morning.”

 It was the wrong thing to say.

Instantly the anger that his father held so close erupted into a lava of frustration and murderous intent. His sooty smell flooded the area, engulfing the forest and trees that sweetened the air earlier. “I was,” he commented, the words barely comprehensible through his growls. He yanked his reigns as he fumed, his horse neighing in discomfort. “I’ve never witness such incompetency in my life,” he bellowed, “If only you were older than your 14 years, Thomas. I’d send you there to destroy them.” The man then huffed, irritation contorting his features. “Instead I have to listen to them list off reasons for peace,” he said.

“Peace is not such a bad thing, Father.” Both Thomas and Peter snapped their heads back after Gilbert spoke. He shrunk back from their looks but held his ground. “Sometimes peace is necessary,” Gilbert explained. He paused when he saw Thomas waving his hand beneath his chin, signaling him to stop. “I’m sure-“

“What do you think, Thomas?” Peter’s question stilled Gilbert’s words before they could even be spoken. “Well,” Peter began, impatient, “What do you think, Thomas?”

Thomas looked to his brother, pity filling him as he took in the other’s crestfallen face, and wet eyes. “I agree with Gilbert,” he answered. Both paused, shock spilling into the air. “Peace can sometimes be the better option,” Thomas continued as Gilbert’s face blossomed into a small smile, “However, now is not that time.” Instantly Gilbert’s face dropped. The betrayal visible in his every expression. “Spain has been tampering with our merchant and commercial ships, killing our citizens and destroying our economy. They have also sent imposters, Spanish men dressing in French colors, into our borders. A few of these fraudulent soldiers have even been found near the castle walls. Their actions should be punished,” Thomas stopped after his speech, unable to watch as Gilbert’s embarrassment grew. Instead he turned to his father. He’d rather see the man’s pride than his brother’s downfall. “Preferably through war,” Thomas finished.

Peter smiled once more, placing his hand onto his son’s head again. “Good, Thomas,” he eased out, “At least one of my boys pay attention. He then tucked his hand under Thomas’ chin, pinching his long spindly fingers into Thomas’ cheeks. “This is why I’m choosing you to be my successor,” he said as he squeezed, “Your brother is too soft. Besides, he’ll most likely present as a filthy Omega. But you, Thomas, you’ll grow to be something special.” He then released Thomas, allowing the other to move again. “Finish your childish play and then join me in the conference room, Thomas. Let us see if we can get them to beg for their lives,” he commanded. He then turned to Gilbert, face malicious. “You,” he spoke to Gilbert, “Go study! Learn something! I will not deal with more of your incompetence!”

“Actually, Father,” Thomas spoke, pausing his father’s tirade. The man scowled at being interrupted. He turned to warn Thomas of his insolence, but the boy kept going before he could. “Wouldn’t it be better if Gilbert joined us,” Thomas asked, “He’d learn more efficiently if he could see it in action. Besides, no one knows battle strategy better than my big brother. I can deter them with statistics and threats, but Gil’s knowledge can make those threats real.” The younger royal then settled next to his father, face bright and innocent as he made his case. “We are best together, Father,” Thomas declared, “Let us handle the Spanish diplomats, you rest.”

“You dare to direct me, boy,” Peter growled. His scent skyrocketed, shooting off in furious sparks before falling in specks of dark soot. “Watch yourself,” he warned, “You are a prince. It is not your place to order your king or to offer to do his duties. You will accompany me like I said.” He then paused, giving Gilbert a judging glance. “Are you not his older brother,” he spewed to Gilbert, “You’d truly let him fight your battles?” The accusation caught both boys off guard. Peter gave a mirthless chuckle. “Thank your brother for finding some use for you,” he cruelly teased, “If it was up to me, I wound have killed you and be done with you already.” The words dropped both of the boys’ jaw, lumps of fear caught in both of their throats. The casualness of his delivery… he meant it. “Now come,” Peter called from over his shoulder, the king already on his way back to the castle, “Let us handle Spain, thoroughly.”

Greenery, far and wide, that was all that Alexander saw. As the stone wall behind him slipped back into place, hiding once more behind wild vines and foliage, the foreign prince was convinced that he transported to another dimension. It was simply beautiful here. The hedges sat as high as the castle walls, at least double his height. Magenta leaves towered above him, tightly packed, but illuminated individually by the sun equally. The rays showed their other colors, shifting from reds and pinks to purples and blues, before returning to magenta once more. It was as though he was standing the middle of a sunset.

“Magenta is my favorite color.” Alexander jumped from the other’s voice, his shoulders near his ears as he reached for a dagger that he no longer carried. The voice only chuckled, its owner revealing himself as Thomas. The French prince only shook his head, his scent falling in a teasing mist. “Haven’t reaching for daggers gotten you into enough trouble, Sir,” he asked as he gently tugged on Alexander’s sleeve.

The Alpha offered his Omega a gentle snort. “That’s why it’s not on my person anymore,” he admitted, “The last thing I need is a noble accusing me of stabbing them…. and for it to be true.”  The man then took Thomas’ hand from his sleeve, intertwining their fingers together. He tugged on the other, forcing them on a little stroll. “Though to be fair,” the man continued as he pulled Thomas closer to him, “Some of those people deserve to be stabbed.”

Thomas laughed, his sweetened scent mingling with the floral aroma around them. “You don’t even know them,” he accused lightly, “They may be too scared to act out towards my father but they’re good people, Alexander.” The prince then squeezed Alex’s hand, his previous smile becoming small and shameful. “I’m not much different from them,” he confessed. He then stopped, eyes on the riding boots he now donned. “For so long, I was just as silent,” Thomas began.

Alexander’s scent spiked, indignation causing it to sour and shake. “But your pamphlets,” he protested, “You aren’t silent. You aren’t-“

“I didn’t start writing those until after my brother left,” Thomas interrupted. He pulled his hand from Alexander’s, jaw popping as he worked his teeth together. He then sighed defeatedly as he looked to the beauty that surrounded them. “I told my father that I liked to study in the castle’s gardens,” Thomas whispered, “And as I said before, my favorite color is magenta.” He pause momentarily, a mirthless chuckle tripping from his lips. “I remember that I told my father that I liked the color,” he said “And you know what he did?”

Alexander could only shake his head. His words hid behind his confusion and alarm. He could smell the shame as it wafted from Thomas. It rained down heavily on the other’s shoulders, large droplets that pelted as they fell, and the tall Omega looked beaten by the onslaught. His shoulders slouched, his head tucked between them. His clothes were ill-fitting and simple. The white blouse hung from his shoulder, the laces at the neck untied. His pants were loose at the hip, dark and unassuming. Alexander wanted nothing more than to hold his fiancé, cradle him until he felt proudful again. What happened to the smiles they worked so hard for?      

 Thomas turned to Alexander, derailing the Alpha thoughts. “He bought me this,” he answered with a flourish of his hands. His voice rose, the storm in his scent pouring down heavily on them both. “He covered the entire side of the castle in a magenta garden,” he exclaimed, “’So I would always study,’ he told me. He wanted me to be great, called me his prodigy.” He then sank, his fury falling into agony. The storm crumbled into a heavy tsunami of despair and regret. “Gil told our father that he liked to dance, once,” Thomas murmured, his voice so quiet that Alexander almost didn’t catch it, “Said that it helped with his footwork. Gil has always been a great combatant. Everything that he did, he did to better his skills with the sword. Anything to gain my father’s approval. My father cut him for it. He cursed him for even bringing such insolence to him.” Thomas paused again, but this time it was to stop himself from sobbing. “And I watched,” Thomas said through the lump forming in this throat, “Whenever Father abused Gil, or berated my mother, I would always watch. I would fearfully, silently, watch. It took for him to throw my dear brother to the wolves for me to act.”  

“Thomas.” The Omega’s name came softly from Alexander’s lips. Thomas’ sorrow was breaking his heart. So much blame, placed where it didn’t belong. “Thomas,” he spoke the other’s name again. He touched the other’s bare shoulder, pulling his Omega in close once more. “It’s not your fault,” he said. He hugged the man to him just as Thomas’ dam broke. The taller sobbed, bending himself awkwardly to tuck his eyes into Alex’s throat and shoulder. His tears wet Alexander’s scent glands, his love replaced by his sorrow. Yet, Alex held Thomas all the same. “Your father did this, Thomas,” he declared, “Always remember that. You are not to blame.”

“But it feels like I am,” Thomas confessed through his sobs. He then held onto his Alpha tighter. “It’s why I try so hard. I don’t know why, but Father always chose me. He was always kind to me. I tried to use that favor to protect everyone, but it was never enough! My father harmed us anyway,” Thomas exclaimed.

“What even happened,” Alexander asked, “Why was your brother exiled to begin with? Why were you separated from Burr?” Thomas mouthed the name after Alexander mentioned the elusive advisor. “Yeah,” Alex started sheepishly, “I ran into him when I was looking for you earlier. He was how I found you in the alcove in the first place.”

The explanation caused a sad smile to blossom along Thomas’ face, a sad mist to dust from Thomas’ scent. “To think,” he said with a sad laugh, “That even today Burr is still helping me.”

“He is,” Alexander answered. He reached for Thomas once more, intertwining their fingers again. “He still believes in you,” Alex assured, “But he won’t tell me why he won’t directly tell you.” The Alpha placed the tip of his fingers under Thomas’ chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “What happened,” he asked firmly, his voice similar to when he chastised Thomas at breakfast that morning. “Tell me what your father did to you – to all of you – so I can fix it.”

“Fix it?” Thomas’ eyes widened at the idea. Alexander simply nodded. “Fix it,” Thomas repeated, this time with conviction. “Get my brother back,” he said almost as if he was testing the idea on his tongue, “Get Jemmy and Aaron back.” 

“But you have to tell me why they left,” Alexander reminded, “What did your father do?”

“It’s not really what he did,” Thomas began, “But what we did. His actions were simply our punishment. You see, it started when I presented as an Omega. It all started when I presented as an Omega, instead of the Alpha my father wanted me to be.”

Chapter Text

“Go! Go!” Voices echoed around the empty halls. Hands grabbed at Thomas, pulling, shoving, forcing his body to move. “We have to hurry,” someone called from Thomas’ left, “We need to find a way to stop the bleeding.” Bleeding? Was he bleeding? Thomas paused, looking to his feet. They were covered in blood, slipping and sliding through it, leaving smears in their wake. That would explain the lightheadedness, the excruciating pain that he couldn’t function pass.

“No, we need to get him somewhere safe first,” another voice sounded. It was from the front this time. The voice was spiked in panic, quick and hysterical. It whipped through the air as though its owner was turning and searching as they spoke. “We need to cover those tracks. We don’t know when they’ll be back,” it continued, “We need to find somewhere that King Peter can't find us.”

“That should be secondary!” The voice from before answered angrily. His voice was so harsh. It would have been unrecognizable if not for the many years that Thomas has heard it. “If we keep going like this Thomas would bleed out,” the voice – no,  it was James’ voice – continued, “I will not let your fear of the Crown be the cause for my friend’s death.”

The other stopped, causing everything and everyone else to stop as well. Finally he turned, his face contorting in anger. “And you’d be a fool for not fearing the Crown,” the leader, Aaron returned. His voice was venomous, unlike anything Thomas has ever heard from him. “If we carelessly save Thomas today, Peter will just kill him tomorrow,” he declared. The words hung heavily in the royal halls as the reality of the situation finally seeped in. “The King’s pride is presenting as an Omega as we speak,” Aaron continued, “Our only saving grace is that the royal Alphas are all out hunting this week. If this happened a mere few day earlier, there would be no Thomas to save. We have to be careful and cover our tracks at all cost.”

“Even if the cost is Thomas’ life,” James retorted. Thomas felt, if only minutely, when James slipped himself from Thomas’ hold. The smallest of them all, stood tall, his shoulders squared. “I will not lose Thomas,” he spoke, “Not to this, Peter or anything else.” His deep baritone, that usually acting as a calming balm to his friends, now set each of them on edge. He, too, presented recently, surprising them all when he awoken in the wild rut that spoke of a new Alpha. No one thought that little James Madison would be an Alpha, yet now as he stood, defending Thomas from Peter, the new Omega prince couldn’t imagine his friend as anything else. “We will stop the bleeding now,” James ordered, “Everything else will become secondary.” The spiced scent of ginger entered the air, striking and undeniable. James was not to be denied.

“How dare you,” Aaron returned. The harsh scent of burnt almonds filled the air as anger overtook him. “Now that I’m an Omega, you think that you can order me around,” he accused, “How dare you!”

“Both of you stop!” Another voice sounded, closer to Thomas’ crown, muffled somewhat by his massive mane of hair. “My brother is bleeding to death in my arms,” the voice – Gilbert’s voice – called brokenly, “While the threat of my father killing him for something out of his control is hanging over our heads. We do not have the time to argue amongst ourselves.” Gil then lowered them both to the hall’s floor, sitting Thomas in a pool of his own blood. “You presented before,” Gil directed to Aaron, “Did you bleed this much? Is this normal?”

The other Omega turned to search down the hall. His eyes traced the long line of blood that started from Thomas’ bedchambers and followed them nearly to the underground infirmary. The man swallowed, his worry evident on his face. “No,” Aaron finally returned, “I didn’t bleed nowhere near this much.”

“Then we’ll fix this first,” Gilbert commanded. Aaron began to protest, but Gil stopped him. “He’s nearly limp in my arms,” the twin returned, voice small and scared. He then pulled Thomas closer, and the bleeding prince gave his brother the best hug he could. “Even trying to comfort me now,” Gilbert said to his nearly unconscious brother. Thomas hugged Gil again to answer, the fear Thomas was feeling soothed by the hum of his twins heartbeat – the very first sound he’s ever heard. “Please,” Gil began eyes wet and voice choked, “Don’t leave me, Frere.”

“I need some cloths,” James began. He then moved to Thomas, attempting to gather his friend in his arms but Gil held on to Thomas, eyes fearful. “I got him,” James reinsured, the calm back in his baritone, “I won’t let anything happen to him, but I need for you to fetch some water. You’re strong, Gil. You’re the only one that can carry it.” The older twin nodded finally, slowly releasing his beloved brother to another. “I love him, too,” James confessed, “I won’t let him die here.”  The young Alpha them turned to Aaron. “I need the disinfect from my room, as well as the suture kit and a lantern. Can you do that,” he asked the Omega. When he was met with silence he said, “I’m sorry for speaking out of turn. I never would use my status against you.”

“It’s not that,” Aaron answered, “It’s just… Do you really think that Thomas could die... from presenting.”

The Alpha sighed. “He shouldn’t, he said, “But you have to remember, the King has been forcing my father to inject him with chemicals and herbs that were meant to make him a stronger Alpha once he presented.” James paused to lay Thomas flat against the floor, frowning when the sick Omega groaned in pain. “He was given everything,” he continued to Aaron as his eyes watched Thomas, “Ginger, Ashwagandha, Ginseng, anything to make him ‘stronger’.”

He then pulled Thomas’ nightgown out of the way, exposing the other. The presenting Omega was covered in blood, the liquid matting around his pelvis and down the inside of his legs. James had to pause upon seeing it. He was trained in the medical profession. He was the son of an apothecary that proved to be talented enough to train to become the royal medic. Though only fourteen, he’s seen many Omegas present. Yet, he’s never seen anything like this.

Thomas’ body was to split, make room for a womb and its exit. It was to be quick, a hour at its worst, but Thomas' body has been splitting for two. His once untamed screams had quieted to languid whimpers. His body split slowly due to the overabundance of testosterone in his system. At first James thought that maybe Thomas was splitting incorrectly. He thought that he may needed to stitch his friend back together, much like the days when Thomas was too reckless when horse-riding. Now he knew – he had to help his friend split apart.

“Damn it,” the young doctor spoke, “Thomas has been taking those supplements for two years now. His hormonal levels are completely off balance. This is going to hard for him.” With shaky hands, he recovered his friends again. “I need a scalpel,” he told Aaron, “Not my suture kit, and bring an anesthetic.”

“James,” Aaron questioned. He saw the shaky hands, the look of shock on James’ face when he uncovered Thomas. “Are you ok,” he asked, because no arguments or status changes could stop them from caring for one another.

“No,” the teen answered, “I’m ok with putting Thomas back together. I always do that.” He then sighed, face finally displaying his own fear. “But tearing him open,” he began voice unsteady, “I don’t think I can. I know I have to, but I don’t think I’ll live well afterwards.” The man then sobered, his distressed hidden just as quickly as it appeared. “The burden of being a doctor, I suppose,” he whispered. He eyed the floor, staring at the blood that littered it. “My father often told me of these things,” he smiled mirthlessly, “Maybe I should have listened.”  When he looked up again, Aaron’s eyes were worried. James simply frowned. “Hurry,” he said, “Then we can move him underground to get started.” Aaron could only nod, before doing as he was told.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” James said to Thomas. He placed his hand on Thomas’ sweat-soddened forehead, brushing some of the hair there away. “I should have said something,” he said, “Should have convinced my father to stand up to yours. I was talking so strongly earlier, saying that I would protect you from Peter. I had prime opportunity to do so and I fail you.” The man stopped to sniffle, his eyes wet as he swallowed down his sorrow for another day. “I won’t fail you this time, my dear,” he said, “I promise.”

“Jemmy.” James paused as Thomas’ voice finally filtered through the halls. “Hurts,” he softly whimpered.

James swallowed again, yet it wasn’t enough to bury the frog that formed in his throat. These words were same Thomas would share when they were but small children, when James would carry around bandages for Thomas’ constant falls and syrups for his constant cough. He would tell James that it hurts and James would always say… “Don’t worry, Tammy,” he repeated the words now, “I’ll fix it.”

When Thomas finally awoken, the deed was done. The pain was over. The bleeding stopped. He finished his presentation, and now he was a full Omega.

He was forced to stay in the underground infirmary, away from prying eyes and gossiping Omegas. They were lucky that they weren’t found out earlier. Well, Aaron said that they were lucky that they weren’t found out earlier. Thomas knew better. He knew that it was only a matter of time. He was only avoiding the inevitable. Peter would find him soon enough. The king would find him and then kill him for being the failure that he was.

He was given a simple task, to become a mighty Alpha and rule over France. It was to be so simple, and Thomas failed. He was no fool. He knew what his failure meant. His father was a monster. Yet, Thomas also knew that the only way to topple his father was to become an Alpha and lead in his stead. Now, he couldn’t even do that. His people will be given to another Alpha of his father’s choosing and ideologies, and forced to live in despair. He failed. He failed his father, his people and himself.

“Thomas?” The new Omega looked up to see his brother. The elder twin held a plate in his hands, a timid smile on his face. “I brought you some food,” he said softly. He approached Thomas as if he was a danger, sitting the plate on the table before the other instead of in Thomas’ hands. “How are you,” he asked as he sat across from Thomas.

The younger prince only sighed. Since when did Gil sit across from him? Since when has Gil been afraid to speak to him. “You shouldn’t be timid like this,” Thomas chastised, “You’re an Alpha now, act like one.” That’s right. It was when he presented as an Alpha, when Gil suddenly became everything Thomas ever wanted to be. “You’ll be king someday,” he said, “You shouldn't show fear. It’s weak.”

The elder flinch when Thomas cruelly reminded him of his new designation. Gilbert never wanted to be an Alpha. He always thought of them as cruel, obsessed with strength in as way that he could never be. Gilbert may have been a praised swordsman, but he only saw it as sport. He was too gentle to be an Alpha. “You’re not the only one to get a designation they do not want,” Gilbert responded, “I’m to be no one’s king, nor anyone’s sculpture. I express what feel today, just as I would have three days ago. Remember, I was Gilbert before I was an Alpha. Just as you were Thomas before you became an Omega. Our designations have nothing to do with who we are.”

Thomas scoffed after Gil’s speech, unimpressed. “You were always naïve, Frere,” he said, “Everything has changed for me. I can’t even go upstairs!” Thomas then leaped from his bed, flipping both the table and the food atop. “My life is over,” he declared, “Father will find out and them I’m dead! Do you know how much he sacrificed for me to be a better Alpha? The time, the money, only for me to be like this!” The distressed Omega pulled at his hair, his voice higher in hysteria. “He’s going to kill me,” he screamed, “He’s going to kill me!”

“I won’t let him,” Gil screamed even louder. He grabbed his brother by his shoulders, shaking Thomas to a stand-still. “Do you think that I do not know of all the sacrifices you made for me? I would die before I let him kill you!” The air spiked in Gil’s new found scent. It was heady and musky, yet sweet in a way that an Alpha’s scent shouldn’t be. No one could identify it, but it was a strong spice, demanding attention and respect. It flooded the room with it’s strength. “I love you, Frere,” he said to Thomas’ shellshocked face, “We all do, and we will not let anything happen to you!”

They both were breathing heavily when Thomas was finally released. The twins sunk to their seats together, apologies on both of their tongues. “I,” Thomas began, unable to truly find words, “You know what I’ve done.”

The elder nodded. “Of course I know,” Gil replied, “The switched test scores. Putting in good words for me when other nations visited.” The prince then stopped, insuring that he held his brother’s eyes when he spoke again. “Pretending to be me when Father wanted to deal out a particularly bad punishment. I know,” he said, “It took me a while to figure it out, but I know.” When Thomas began to speak, to deny, Gil stopped him. “I love you so much,” he said, “We all do. You’ve always protected me. Please, Frere, let me protect you.”

“What he meant to say,” James sounded from the doorframe, “Let us protect you.” Behind him stood Aaron, face softening around his warm smile. Warm scents flooded the small infirmary, filled with love and dedication.

Thomas’ own couldn’t help but to join them. He was not quite used to the watery scent that came from his glands, even less so to the lilies and tulips that followed, but the honeyed sweetness displayed his affection perfectly. “I love you all, too,” he said through his teary smile, “I really do, but how are we going to do this.”

“Good question,” Aaron sounded, “And we have five days to figure it out. Everyone will return from the hunt by then.” The future advisor pulled a letter from an inner pocket that was seal with the King’s Seal. “Picked this from the mailroom,” he informed, “They’re currently wrapping things up. It was sent last Friday. It means that they, if they travel quickly, should be here in five days, seven if they take their time. And it's always best to plan on the side of caution.”

“So three days,” Thomas replied, “I know Father. That’s a decoy letter.” The others paused at Thomas’ suggestion. They knew that Thomas was close to his father, but they didn’t know just how close. They never thought that he would be close enough to pick up on his father’s lies. “He taught me this method,” he explained, “Send an easily detectable letter that doubles your estimated arrival time. This way no one can even guess where you are. If six days would be their time of arrival at a normal pace, then he’s three days away.”

“I see,” James said after shaking himself from their collective stupor, “Then three days.”

“First and foremost, I have to cover my scent somehow,” Thomas continued. He ran his fingers along his scent glands, his head dropping between his shoulders. “I smell like an Omega,” he said, his status dripping from his tongue like an unwanted sickness, “I have to cover this.”

“Then again,” Aaron began, “No you don’t.” Everyone in the room turned to the Omega in question, confusion clear in their faces. Aaron rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” he deadpanned, “You and your brother have quite unorthodox smells. You smell of rain. When has an Omega ever smelled like water. Meanwhile, we cannot even fully pinpoint what your brother smells like. It’s clearly a spice of some kind, but one that’s never been here before.” The two twins looked to one another, expressions a bit affronted, and scents slightly irritated. “Oh, shut up,” Aaron returned, “It’s true. Now if you can keep the flowers out of your scent, you can pass it off as a smoother Alpha scent. Who would know the wiser? They would just think that your scent is unorthodox like your brother’s.”

“He does have a point,” Gil agreed, although still offended, “It could work.”

“So what,” James questioned voice tilted in annoyance, “Is he to never be happy again?” The room groaned, unhappy to be back at square one. “However,” the young doctor-in-training began, “Maybe this idea has some merit. I can dust you scent glands with talcum powder. It’ll clog the glands. Since your scent is so pronounce, it won’t completely stop it from coming through. However, it would muddle the scent enough that no one will be able to smell the finer points of it. This way you can still have a variety of emotions and keep your scent in check.”

“I guess,” Thomas replied, “But it’s still risky. If Father finds out you all have been helping me, there’s no limit to what he would do.” The young prince then stood, taking in their eager faces as an angry storm began to circle overhead. “I can’t do that to you,” he said. He stopped them before they could start to refute, his raised hand enough to silence the entire room. Their synchronized reaction caused something to click with Thomas. He thought of the many times Peter has controlled the room with the wave of his hand. Maybe his father was on to something. Maybe Thomas was to be a great king. Gil was right, being an Omega wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he was destined to do. However, he also wasn’t going to sacrifice his friends for this either. He wouldn’t be a great king if he did. “If we are to be caught,” he said, “Tell them that everything was my idea.” Various question echoed within the small room, but Thomas once more silenced them with a motion of his hand. “I thought of everything,” he spoke sternly, “You were simply following my orders. If you don’t do this, I’ll turn myself over immediately.”

As the room wrestled with Thomas’ words, Gil saw them for what they were. They were the words of a leader – of a king. He was not going to be the one to impede his brother’s growth. While Peter looked at Thomas and saw the continuation of his legacy. Gil looked at Thomas and saw the downfall of Peter’s dynasty. While Gilbert was always seen as the thorn in Peter’s side, no one poke and prodded at Peter’s control quite like Thomas did. No one said no to Peter quite as often as Thomas did, not even their mother. Even more importantly, no one truly changed Peter’s mind quite as often as Thomas did. If anyone could topple their father, it was the Omega standing in front of him.

“Ok,” the twin said aloud. His agreeance immediately quieted the other two. They thought that, between them all, it would be the over-protective Gilbert that would refuse the most. “I trust you, Frere. I always have.”

“Thanks,” Thomas smiled in return, “Those are my terms.” He then turned to his closest friends. “What of you two,” he asked.

Aaron nodded with a defeated sigh. He was a sensible man, he knew when he was outmaneuvered. However James’ struggle was still apparent on his face. He shook his head before saying, “No.” The room startled in shock. “I won’t sacrifice you,” he said, “And I won’t back down either. I’ll keep Gil’s and Aaron’s names clean, but I’m taking my share of the responsibility. I’m a doctor, Thomas. It’s my job – no – my life’s mission to save lives. Doing what you ask will go against everything that I am. So, no, I won’t do that.”

“I understand, Jemmy,” Thomas nodded, “But you were always my exception.” The Omega prince smiled for the first time in days. Stepping over a table and spilt food, he went to hug his brother and friends. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he whispered into the circle they made, “I really do appreciate all of you.”

Gil knocked his little brother atop his head, before playfully ruffling his kinks. “We know,” he said. He ruffled a little harder, before pulling away. “Let’s get out of here before someone become suspicious.”

The other’s nodded, beginning to leave before Thomas called James behind. When he had James alone he pressed a kiss to the side of the other’s mouth. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for fixing it,” he whispered into the heating skin. He pulled back with a cheeky smile, more like himself now then he has been in two days. “I heard what you said to Gil,” he confessed. His face warmed as well, confessions such as these strange for lips so young, “I love you, too.”  Lilies and tulips followed his confession, as the spiced scent of ginger began to show its sweeter notes.

The medic cracked a small smile himself. “You have perfect timing, huh,” he teased. He softly swiped his thumb along his friend’s cheek, before stretching himself to leave a heated kiss of his own. “And you never need to thank me, Tammy,” he said as he pulled away, leaving Thomas' virgin lips moist from their first true kiss, “I’ll always be there to fix things for you.”

Chapter Text

A year had passed and somehow – some way –  they did it. The powder worked. The sneaking, the lying, it all worked. The now 15-year-old Thomas walked the halls beside his father, the elder none-the-wiser. It was easier than Thomas thought it would be. It was almost second-nature to pretend to be an Alpha. He easily walked with his shoulders straight and his head high. He turned down his nose with unbothered ease. The dismissal of others was not as hard as Thomas wished it would have been. Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, it was easy to implement everything he was taught. It actually frightened Thomas, how easy it was to become a monster.  

“Boy,” his father snapped, irritation brimming in the sound and oozing from his scent, “Pay attention! I need you at your best here.” The young Thomas instantly snapped to attention, his father’s voice breaking pass the despair that formed around his thoughts. The King rolled his eyes, both exasperated and somewhat fond. “Are you already at your limit, boy,” he teased as kindly as he could, “You’re disappointing me, Thomas. I thought you had more fight to you.”

Thomas gave his father a devilish smirk, the kind that he knew his father would accept, before answering. “Of course I have more, Father,” he also teased, “I’m just bored by the fact that we have to meet with these plebeians again.” The teen stopped to look at his cane, rubbing the dust from the large garnet jewel that sat at its top. “If I have to hear about another farm, I just might strangle someone,” he sassed. His scent dampened with his irritation, the dying flowers accompanying it masked by the copious amount of powder he applied that morning.

His father cracked a poor imitation of a smile. “That is the burden of being a king,” the man sagely advised, “You have to listen to everyone. No matter how insignificant they are.” Thomas silently startled at the reasonable, if not harsh, advice. It was moments like these that made Thomas question the reasons behind his father’s cruelty. It was moments like these that made it easier for Thomas to relate to – become – a monster. “Boy,” Peter called, softer this time, “What’s truly on your mind?”

Again, Thomas startled. Was his father actually showing true concern? Thomas could never understand. Peter was capable of so much more than anger. He could be kind, he has been to Thomas. So why was it so hard for Peter to show this kindness in other aspects of his life.

“There’s nothing bothering me, Father,” Thomas responded, voice soft and withdrawn. The teen never knew exactly how to behave with faced with his father’s kindness. So, he stayed small and quiet, anything to keep the man this way. “I’m just not looking forward to this meet-“

“Silence!” The King barked. Thomas closed his mouth so hard that his teeth clicked. “You’re clearly lying,” the man said, “You’re no use to me if you lie so terribly.” The king then offered his son a smile – a true smile. “You’re not fooling anyone, Thomas. I know that you care about the dying crops and these peasants lowly livelihoods. Next time don’t make your lie so different from who you are. The best lies are the ones with the most truth. Now, go, boy. We have a meeting to attend.”

“Yes, sir,” Thomas murmured. As they slowly continued down the halls, he wondered if he should tell his father. Sometimes, in moments like these, it seemed as though Peter would understand. Yet, Thomas knew better. So instead of confessing, he retreated. He fled back behind his mask. He turned up his nose, and broadened his shoulders. His gait, his every step, was an identical copy of his fathers.

Alex listened intensely. He followed the fixtures of Thomas’ lips, the erratic rise and fall of his scent. It flowed from an desperate mist to a frightful storm. Lilies died and bloomed almost simultaneously as Thomas spoke of his father, the love and hatred he felt for the man battling against each other for precedence. The Omega’s voice would raise and he’d scoff in disgust when describing himself – the way he lived. He saw himself as a monster. Alex could only see a survivor. He saw someone strong enough to sacrifice everything about themselves and yet still had enough to fight for the misfortunate.

Thomas paused for a moment, eyeing Alexander as if he was waiting for the other’s demeanor to change. He was waiting for the souring of shrubbery, the upheaval of gravel, but Alexander’s scent remained calm, a steady breeze of comfort and affection.  “How could you,” Thomas began. He stopped again to breathe, the millions of questions choking him. “How could you still feel for me,” he asked, “I’m telling you that I felt sorry for a monster – connected to a monster – and you still want me.”

Alexander cracked a rueful smile. His scent finally soured some as he released Thomas’ hand to run his fingers though this waved locks. “I almost murdered your father on my first day here,” he answered. He paused their stroll to look upwards, watching as the morning slowly became the late afternoon. “I’m a soldier,” he continued, “A pragmatic murderer in my own right, and while I’m not as terrible as your father, there are plenty of people out in the world that would call me a monster.” He then looked to Thomas again, the steady breeze from earlier becoming nothing more than an shaky whisper. His smile turned insecure, maybe shameful, but so very hopeful. “You’re a remarkable person to find the good in your father,” Alexander whispered, “And I hope that after you see all of me, that you would still see the good in me, too.”

Thomas smiled as he took back Alexander’s hand. He intertwined their fingers, enjoying the contrast of their skin tones and the different length of their fingers. To think that this tiny, caring Alpha had hurt anyone, it was almost unfathomable. Yet, Thomas also saw what Alexander could do. He saw the confidence that the Alpha traversed the world in. While it was his turn to share, Thomas couldn’t wait to hear of the stories that made this fearless, yet gentle Alpha. For now, Thomas thought it best to reassure his fiancé. “I’ve seen evil, Alexander,” the Omega prince began, “And I doubt that I’ll ever see that from you, no matter what you’ll unveil in the future. It’s hard to not see the good in you, when there is so much good to see.”

The little Alpha smiled to the maze’s floor, his ears tinting red. He scent flourished once more, the familiar pinecones springing forth. Thomas scent lifted as well, happy that his Alpha was happy. The taller prince rubbed the tip of his nose on Alexander’s reddened ear and temple. “Thank you,” Alex commented. He raised their joined hands to place a kiss to Thomas’ knuckles. “I truly appreciate you,” he whispered to Thomas’ knuckles.

The garden overflowed with affection, the emotion swirling between the two. “There’s no need to thank me,” Thomas began again, “You’re not my father.” Instantly the warmth dissipated, leaving a cold anticipation behind. “That man was much worse. Any good that I saw in him then, disappeared when he found out the truth.”

“What happened,” Alex asked gently, not wanting to disturb the peace, “How did he find out?”

“I told him,” Thomas answered, “Like a fool. I believed in him, and I told him.”

“What?” The question as asked lowly, his father’s voice no louder than a forceful whisper. However, ever inch of his hatred and betrayal lived in that single syllable. Another year had passed since Thomas presented. Another year of Thomas pretending and lying. Another year of Thomas being something that he wasn’t. Another year of the easy deceit. Unknowingly to Thomas, the last year.

“I-“ Thomas began, but the simmering rage in Peter’s scent caused the boy to stop speaking. Besides, he’s already said more than enough.

“So, you’re in heat right now,” the king asked, grinding the question through his gritted teeth. He then reached for Thomas, grabbing the Omega by his jaw. He dug his nails in as he bared his teeth in a nasty growl. Thomas flinch in the hold, but it only caused the king to dig in his nails hard enough to draw blood. “Who else knows,” the king growled. Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but Peter only held on tighter, his eyes bloodshot in his rage. “Don’t lie to me boy,” he warned, “You’ve done that enough.”

“No-“ Thomas tried, but was backhanded for his efforts. “I swear,” he screamed. His head swam, the heat and the smack disorienting him. He needed his father’s help. He need an Alpha to comfort him. He and Peter had been getting along so well. The elder listened when Thomas spoke, conceded to his son’s softer nature. He was allowed to suggest laws that protected the poor and Omegas. Peter built an hospital in Thomas’ name. He took the prince on horseback rides and gave Thomas advice. He even started to treat Gil better for Thomas. Things were getting better. Peter was getting better. “Please,” the young Omega begged, “Don’t hate me.”

“Hate,” Peter questioned. He shook Thomas’ head to and fro, a condescending smile contorting his sharp features. “You silly simpleminded little boy,” he sighed, “You think that I did those things for you because I liked you?” He then released the boy before disappearing to the front of their carriage. He returned with a towel. He then patted his son’s face dry, tilting the other’s face upwards so he could look into his son’s cloudy eyes. “I did those things because I trusted you,” he corrected, “’Liking’ someone, basing my decisions on whether or not I ‘like’ someone is not a luxury that I possess.” The Alpha than sighed, looking more defeated than Thomas has ever seen him. His scent was no longer rageful, but disappointed. “You idiot,” he whispered and Thomas wasn’t quite sure who the king was referring to. “I truly thought that you were becoming a good king, Thomas. I thought that you were changing,” he sighed once more, “I was willing to sacrifice my nation for you, because I trusted you to reform it once I was done.”

Thomas struggled to concentrate on his father’s words, the rocking carriage and rising heat was causing his world to swim. Most of the words were above him, floating just above his understanding, but the smell – the rotting smell of burning ash and yielding rocks – was so undeniable. He’s never smelt this scent from his father, this crushing disappointment and betrayal. Peter was irreversibly hurt. Despite his words he felt hurt, and Peter’s pain was crushing Thomas as well. “I’m sorry, Dad,” the teen whispered, “I tried so hard to be what you wanted me to be.”

“You did, didn’t you,” Peter responded, almost remorsefully. He patted Thomas along his sweat-soddened kinks, threading his fingers within before scrapping along the other’s scalp with the points of his nails. “Stay with me,” he commanded and instantly the world rebalanced for Thomas. His father’s disgusted face was perfectly aligned, no longer blurred by a heatwave. “Look at you,” the elder said with so much disgust, it caused Thomas to flinch in shame, “Do you see now why I couldn’t have you being a bitch? Look at how your heat melts your brain.” He continued to stare down at Thomas, his disappointment barely visible through his hateful gaze. “You can’t even think,” the king said, “Your mind is your greatest asset, boy, and four times out of the year for an entire week, you cannot use it.”

“I can,” Thomas refuted. He pulled away as well as he could, small ringlets of hair left tangled between Peter’s fingers. “I have been so far,” he argued, “You’ve seen me! I’m capable! I can do this, Father!” The words were then shot down as Thomas’ eyes began to dilate, the rush of heat burning in his veins. His father frowned. “I-I still,” Thomas fought, his words barely audible above his harsh breathing, “I can. I can still reform this country. I can still be the king you need me to be.”

“Is that so,” Peter returned. He then gently pulled a dagger from a satchel he used to carry his hunting supplies. He dragged his son by the hair, Thomas’ disoriented smacks unable to stop him. “Stop me,” he said softly. Thomas tried, but was too weak to move. His father then pulled them both out of the carriage, tossing Thomas onto the flatten earth. “Gilbert,” the man yell.

From the carriage ahead, Gilbert emerged. The young Alpha stood at attention, his shoulders straight as his hand rested on his saber. “How can I help,” Gil began before he spotted his father holding a knife to his brother’s throat. Thomas watched as the other stopped, realization donning on Gil’s face. He now knew that Peter knew. He now knew that all of their hard work was for nothing. The swordsman tightened his hold onto his saber, pulling it from its sheath to point it at his father. “If you hurt him,” the young prince began, voice colder than it’s ever been, “I’ll kill you.”

Peter paused for a moment, then he laughed. He laughed loudly, draping his arm around Thomas’ shoulder. “Is that so,” Peter asked. He then hiked Thomas up by his hair, the heat pooling in the Omega’s system making Thomas pliable and non-resistant. He shook Thomas forcibly, causing the other’s head to rattle and Gil’s grip to tighten. “Look,” he told Thomas, “Look at what you’ve created out of your brother. He’s considering treason, a life of exile, just for you.”

“I mean it,” Gil screamed. He then ran quickly to his father, the tip of his blade close to Peter’s throat. However Peter was the older Alpha, the more seasoned fighter. The king quickly shoved Thomas to the ground, parrying his son’s attack with his forearm, before grabbing the younger Alpha by the throat with the other hand. He lifted Gilbert, digging his fingers into the swells of his son’s scent glands.

“Look what you’ve done,” Peter shrieked, “You’ve created a traitor, Thomas! You’ve created an entire little rebellion!” The king then reached for his dagger again, a manic smile transfiguring his face as his poor son dug into his arms and wrists. Then he did the unspeakable. He dug his dagger into the right jaw of his son’s face before dragging the impaled point across his right cheek, over his nose and just under his left eye. The boy in his grip release a bloodcurdling scream, wailing and writhing until he couldn’t anymore. Peter dropped Gil with little fanfare, watching, unbothered, as his son limply fell to the forest floor. He then turned to Thomas, the manic expression on his face smoothing to a false care. “Do you understand, now,” the man said. His voice was sagely, so similar to the tone he used when he gave Thomas advice. “I told you to stop me,” he reminded, “And you couldn’t because of your Omega shortcomings and now your follower – your brother – has to pay for your incompetence.”

Thomas could only swallow the bile that threatened to escape him. Peter was right. It was heat that fogged his mind, stilled his hand. He knew that he was strong enough. His scent, despite being an Omega, was always strong enough to cause even Alphas to cower. He could’ve stopped Peter. If he wasn’t like this – born a bitch – he could have stopped Peter.  The thought caused his emotions to erupt in erratic and powerful bursts. Storms raged as his tears fell, yet he could do nothing. His heat made his limbs uncooperative, it slowed his thoughts, clouded his judgement… made him think that telling his father his deepest darkest secret was a good idea. Now, his brother laid bleeding and gasping, dying in the middle of nowhere. Peter was right. Peter was always right.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas cried, unable to do much else, “I’m so sorry.”

Peter sighed at the apologies, his scent settling to disappointment once more. Again he tucked his palm under Thomas’ chin. Again he dug his nails in, forcing the other to focus, clearing the fog if only so Thomas could see his bleeding brother more clearly. He then sat next to Thomas, watching as the Omega cried. “He’s not dead,” the king commented, “And he won’t die. However, he will be exiled. He’ll wear the mark of a traitor for the rest of his life. He’ll wear the consequence of following you for the rest of his life. The rest of your friends will also suffer the consequences of defying the crown.”

“They didn’t do anything,” Thomas responded weakly, the fire in his veins surely catching up to him. Despite his father’s grip, he was losing himself to the heat – the need. He just wanted affection, someone to hold him. Why couldn’t someone just hold him? “Please,” the young prince pleaded, unsure of what he was even asking for anymore, “Please.”

“Boy,” the king sighed with a rough shake, “Do you expect me to believe that it was you that came up with the powder?” Thomas’ eyes widened at the question. How could he have known? “I’m no fool, boy,” the king responded, “However, I must say, neither are you.” He smiled, pride and anger created an unusual visual. “I was fooled,” he said, “For the first year, but then you became comfortable, trusting. I knew that it was only a matter of time before you revealed your hand. Did you think that I invited you here for no reason?”

The question caused Thomas to pause. He was such an idiot. They were in the middle of nowhere, on a short vacation disguised as a hunt. The two riding in one carriage, far away from anyone and anything else. Gilbert was only allowed to come due to Thomas’ pleading and was forced to ride in another carriage. “It was a set up,” Thomas breathed in disbelief, “You set me up.” He felt the heat simmer underneath his skin even when he was asked, so he tried to deny the trip, but his father would not accept the decline. He knew then that his lie was up, but he didn’t expect his father to place him in this position. He thought that they man would understand. “Fuck,” the teen whimpered. How stupid was he - how foolish?

“Is this it,” Peter asked. He released his protégé, watching uninterestedly as the other crumbled to the shrubbery below. “I remember you telling me that you had more fight in you.” The man chuckled as he settled back onto his palms, his hands dirtied by the blood of his eldest son. “Once your failure of a brother awakens, he’ll be left here, unable to return. So will your medic. I figure that he’s the one to suggest the powder. I have to remove him. He’s taken a interest in you, and now that you are officially a breeder, I cannot have him blocking you from other Alphas that I can offer you to. As for your advisor, I think that I’ll take him for myself. He’s a breeder as well, yes, and very brilliant. He will prove useful.” He then turned to Thomas, motioning his bloody hands as he spoke of the other’s demise. “What do you think,” the king asked.

Thomas grimaced, painfully choking on his tears. That question once meant the world to him. Peter knew that. It was monstrous, to use it now. “I think,” Thomas growled into the dirt, “That I’m going to kill you.” Slowly the teen rose, using all that he had to stand again. “If you’re impressed by this little charade,” he began, “Then you’ll be blown away by what I’ll do next. You don’t want to give me your crown, then I’m going to take it from you.”

The King nodded, a smile on his face. “We’ll see,” the man answered, “But, know that I won’t make it easy for you.”

The words were the last that Thomas heard. His vision swam for the last time before finally failing him as he fell face-first to the forest floor.