Bim's Fic Recs/Reviews

How did you get here? Did you go home with someone? But you'd remember that, right? Or you'd at least remember starting to get blackout drunk, but you don't. In fact, you don't remember much of anything after leaving work. You said goodbye to your coworkers and then started making your way home, taking the same route as always, but you don't remember ever reaching your apartment. Did you never get back, or did you leave again after making it home?

You sit up, looking around a bit more. There must be something that looks familiar... Oh, there! That jacket! It looks like the one that guy you've been flirting with at work the past week was wearing, Koji. Did you go home with him? Wait, no, not home, he said he was staying at that fancy hotel near where you work, the Continental or something? That would make sense, this does kind of look like a hotel room, just not in the style you were expecting. And more lived in.

You did enjoy flirting with him this week, so it would also make sense for you to have gone with him, even if that isn't usually in character for you. It did help that you felt so incredibly flattered that he seemed interested in you (he even let you refer to him as Koji when everyone else you saw him talk to addressed him more formally), what with him being so beautiful, elegant and, apparently, rich. He did say that he was the manager of a similar hotel back in Japan. This room looks kind of like what you envisioned for that.

Whatever. Thinking is getting you absolutely nowhere near figuring out how you got here. There must be someone around here somewhere who you can ask, right? Or, if you're right about Koji being involved somehow, he should come back some time soon, right? Unless he's back in Japan already, after all he did say he'd be flying back today, and left you and his jacket behind without saying goodbye. You hope not. You don't want to have to awkwardly sneak out of this place with no memory of what happened tonight.

Where's your phone? That should give you some answers. If nothing else, you can turn on your gps and see where you are on google maps. Unfortunately, it's not on top either of the bedside tables, nor do you find it inside of the drawers. Ugh.

You climb out of bed, noticing you're still wearing your work clothes. That means you most likely didn't make it home, you'd have changed into something else otherwise.

But it also means you didn't hook up with anyone, you'd probably have gotten naked then. Probably for the best, as you'd prefer to remember something like that. And do it when you're not blackout drunk or whatever else caused you to forget everything. Maybe not alcohol, you don't feel hungover enough for that. But what else could it have been?

While you're carefully looking around the room for your phone, the door opens, and you flinch as if you're about to be caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing, which is absurd. You're allowed to be here! Probably. Maybe. At the very least it's not your fault you're in here, also probably.

The person who opened the door and entered the room is Koji. Thank fuck. While still not an ideal situation, he should at least know how you got here. And where "here" is.

"I see you're finally awake. Good. You must have questions." His calmness makes you relax a bit.

"Right. Um. Where am I? And how did I get here? I don't really... remember last night. At all." Kind of embarrassing to admit, but if you really were blackout drunk, he must already know, right? Even if you weirdly don't feel hungover...

"You're in my hotel in Osaka. I had to drug you to be able to transport you here, and for that I apologize," he says with a completely straight face. Weird, you didn't take him for someone who would joke about something like that. You're not amused. This situation is stressful enough and he has the nerve to fool around first?

"Sure... but no, really, where am I?" you ask again.

He doesn't respond immediately this time, first he walks past you and pushes open the curtains, gesturing outside: "If you won't believe me, take a look. I haven't lied to you yet, and I don't intend to start."

Beyond the window lies... well, definitely not the city you assumed you were still in. You can't confirm that it's Osaka, you've never been there before so you don't know what it looks like, but this does make what he just said sound a lot less like a joke. Your heart drops. This can't be happening. You must be misunderstanding something. Or you're still dreaming.

You turn away from the window, facing Koji again.

"You said you—" You swallow. Your voice sounds shakier than you want it to. "—you drugged me?"

He looks way too calm for this. "Yes. Again, I apologize," he says in that smooth voice of his that you used to find attractive, but now it's freaking you out.

You take a careful step backwards, away from him, which he unfortunately clocks immediately.

He puts up his hands placatingly. "I won't hurt you, I promise.  You don't have to be afraid."

Unbelievable. You take another step back. "I don't have to be afraid? You drugged me and somehow managed to get me into a different country! I'm just supposed to be okay with that?" You manage to sound more angry than afraid this time, at least.

"You don't have to feel good about what happened, but you have nothing to fear. There is a set of rules I have to follow as the manager of a Continental hotel, and while those did allow me to bring you here, they also keep me from harming you. I wouldn't hurt you even if those rules weren't in place, of course, but I hope knowing this might calm you down." He takes a step forward, and your eyes flit over to the door nervously as you step back again, careful to avoid backing yourself into a corner. Maybe you could make it out? Just make a run for it?

"The hotel rules allowed you to kidnap me? What kind of fucking hotel is this?" It just doesn't make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

"Not just the hotel, but the organization the hotel belongs to. I will explain in more detail when you've calmed down, but for now all you need to know is that nobody in this hotel will help you escape. All of my employees have been informed of your presence here, and know you're not allowed to leave the  premises unless I am by your side."

You've heard enough. He could easily be bluffing, and what better time to test that theory than right fucking now? It helps that your fight, flight or fawn instinct has firmly switched to flight.

So, panicking, you turn and run for the door, not looking behind you to see if Koji is following, reach for the door handle, manage to get the door open, and—

are immediately grabbed and then pushed back inside of the room by some tall, scary looking guy who has apparently been waiting for exactly this to happen. You make a strangled noise, spotting someone on the other side of the corridor outside of the room, but when you try to signal to them that you need help, they simply nod at the guy in the doorway and keep walking. Fuck. You turn back around and see that Koji didn't even take one step, knowing that there was no way you'd be able to get out.

He speaks up, as calm as always: "As I said, my employees have all been informed of your presence. Now, please, let's sit down and finish this conversation." He gestures at the two chairs at the table near where he's standing while the guy who has crushed your dreams of a quick escape closes the door.

Great. Fantastic. Every cell in your body is still screaming for you to run, but you just learned how futile that is. Choose your battles! Learn more about your predicament now, try to escape again later when you know more and you're calmer.

Koji waits until you begrudgingly sit down across from him at the table before he starts talking again.

"Let's lay down some ground rules."

"Rules? Are you fucking kidding me? You kidnap me and now I'm supposed to listen to you?"

He just keeps talking as if you said nothing: "As this was your first time, I'll let it slide, but if you try running away again I will tie you up in this room until I decide you can be trusted again. Understood?"

You resist pulling your legs up onto the seat and hugging your legs, you already feel enough like a child being chastised as it is. You don't nod or respond, but your silence seems to be enough of an answer for him.

"You will not leave this room without me, for now. When you have earned enough trust, the bodyguard stationed in front of the door will come with you when I am busy."

Two more things happen that freak you out that day. First, when you change your clothes because you've been wearing the same once since you'd been at work, you find that your closet here is filled with clothes from your apartment, meaning someone broke into your home and stole them. Koji even tells you that if you want anything else from your belongings, he will make sure it gets sent to you.

Second, for dinner, your favorite food is served, accompanied by your favorite drink, neither of which you told him about. So how did he find out? Stalking you in real life? Or online? Neither option sounds very good to you. You doubt it's just a coincidence.

The following days, weeks, and months, you learn more.

That first week, you try to escape one more time, mostly to figure out if he was bluffing about the tying-you-up thing. You get caught trying to climb out of the window (that, surprisingly for a hotel, is able to open completely), and end up with your hands tied in front of you and an ankle chained to the bed post. The chain is short enough that you can no longer reach any of the windows, nor the door. He wasn't bluffing, then. Interesting and unfortunate. When you try to escape next time, you'll need to be smarter about it. Maybe you'll get an opportunity if you build enough trust? Just running seems to be impossible, there's too many people working at this damn hotel, someone will always be around to see you.

You get untied after 48 hours for good behavior.

A week after that, you're allowed to go for a walk around the hotel gardens with a bodyguard for the first time. Unfortunately, he's not very talkative, only giving one word responses if he even bothers responding at all. It doesn't seem like you'll be making friends here any time soon. At least you can learn more about the place where you guess you'll be staying for the foreseeable future. You pay extra close attention to all possible exits, but you think you're being kept away from any doors that might directly lead to your freedom.

Unfortunately you learn that when going outside, you're not allowed to wear your own clothes, but have to wear something that is "befitting of the hotel managers companion", which isn't the most terrible thing, but still feels patronizing. Expensive fabric draping over you where you would usually have chosen something more comfortable and definitely a lot cheaper. And to add insult to injury, the colors of your clothes match whatever Koji is wearing that day. Probably so everyone can immediately tell who you are, and more importantly, who you belong to.

One day during your shared dinner, you ask Koji: "Why am I even here? What do you gain from it? Working all day, only to come back to someone who wants nothing to do with you?"

A slight smile plays on his lips. "I still enjoy your company. Plus, I know you'll come around. I saw how you looked at me before I brought you here, so we both know the underlying attraction is there. I can be patient."

"Well, prepare to wait until you're dead."

He smiles wider, slightly amused. "You have settled into your life here faster than expected. You've only tried to escape once, and that seemed rather half-hearted. Someone could start to think you want to stay here."

That's only because you're waiting for a good opportunity. Does he know and he's just making fun of you? You can't ask him that, obviously, but you'd also rather not respond in a way that makes it seem like you do want to stay here. That would be laying it on a bit too thick.

"Keep dreaming, old man."

You eventually tell Koji that you want everything from your apartment to be sent here. Everything. When you've been missing long enough, the landlord will clear out your apartment and rent it out again. You'd rather avoid having any of your stuff thrown away. Koji actually manages to get it all to Japan, somehow. What doesn't fit into your shared room is put in storage. It puts you at ease, to have some familiar items around you. Too much at ease. You have to keep reminding yourself that you're not here willingly, even though the space looks more and more like somewhere you'd live voluntarily.

You soon learn that the hotel belongs to some kind of secret hitman society, Koji keeps his promise about telling you about the organization in more detail. Virtually everyone working here is a trained killer. Even the guests! After revealing that to you, Koji starts taking you to the dojo with him sometimes. Not that you're allowed to touch anything there, but you get to watch him train. It makes you queasy, how elegantly and effortlessly he uses all kinds of weapons. How many people has he killed? (That's a fun question you now get to ask yourself about every single person you meet here.)

Another place that opens up to you is his office,

Koji also tells you that there's a rule about no "business" being conducted on hotel grounds. You can't hold back a snarky: "Wow, and here I thought killing was frowned upon in most hotels!"

As always, he stays infuriatingly calm. "That rule is why I do not allow you to leave hotel grounds. Your connection to me might make you a target. In here, nobody can hurt you."

"And you're not capable of protecting me? Aren't you a trained assassin yourself? Are you not good enough?" You're mostly just trying to piss him off. At some point he'll have to stop being so calm about everything and you're hoping to get him there, even if it will probably not end well for you.

You didn't succeed this time. "I am capable of protecting you, but I assume you do not wish to see me, or anyone else, kill someone. Am I wrong?"

Infuriatingly, he's right. Of course he's right. You don't answer, so he speaks again: "But I wasn't done explaining yet. I will not keep you trapped in here for the rest of your life, we will just have to make a plan before going somewhere. Besides, getting attacked while you're with me is unlikely, as they'd have to be pretty unintelligent to think they stand a chance, so you don't have to be too worried."

"...wait, so I can go outside? Didn't you just say I couldn't?"

"You can't. Not without me. Besides, that won't happen for quite some time. At this moment I can't trust you to listen to me if something did happen, however unlikely, which would put you at more risk than I am willing to take."

"What? I can listen. I'm really good at listening. Haven't I been behaving?" You say in a deceptively sweet voice. Going outside would be wonderful, even with Koji. It would be a step closer to freedom.

"Oh, yes, you've been behaving. Too well, in fact. As if you're only pretending to have adjusted to your life here, to earn my trust. You'll have to try harder than that."

You should have known he's too smart for this. What an asshole.

With your plan to wait and earn trust having failed, you try to run again. This time while on a walk through the gardens with a new bodyguard. You wait until you think she's distracted, talking to someone else, then sneak out of her line of sight, run as fast as your fancy clothes allow towards the nearest exit, only to get grabbed after a pathetically short amount of time. She immediately steers you back inside, a hand grabbing the back of your neck like you're an unruly puppy, and locks you into your room.

When your bodyguard informs him of what happened, Koji is disappointed, but not surprised. You get tied up again. This time, instead of behaving like last time, you destroy as many things as you can reach and manage to get a hold of with your bound hands, or that you can push over with your body. Not as many things as you would have liked, but the room looks very chaotic when you're done. It makes you feel a bit better.

You stay tied up for an entire week this time, trying to bite and scratch and kick everyone who gets close to you until you tire yourself out. Koji seems glad you're finally getting it out of your system, which just pisses you off more.

The first night you're untied, you throw your food at his face. Or at least attempt to, he manages to evade it with his insane reflexes. For another week, your hands are bound during meals, and you get spoonfed again, like you did the week before. It's humiliating. You'd refuse to eat, but Koji said he'd "make" you if you didn't, and you're not keen to find out what exactly he means.

The longer you're here, the more you realize that not being able to speak Japanese is an issue. Sometimes you turn on the TV when you're bored, but you can't really understand anything, so you end up aimlessly zapping through channels that don't make any sense to you until you end up turning it off again, still bored. But what's worse is when people are talking right next to you and you can't understand them. Like when your bodyguard of the day turns to another employee and says something while looking at you. Is he insulting you? Or is he saying something completely neutral? Is he being nice? Is he only talking about when his shift ends and not talking about you at all?

You'd also like to know what Koji is telling his employees, especially about you. Asking for Japanese lessons seems a bit too humiliating to you though, what if Koji says no? Or what if he says yes, but insists that he should be the one to teach you? Any teacher would be bad enough and probably make you feel like a child. You'll keep trying to watch TV and hopefully memorize a few words through that, how hard can it be?

After some time, he makes you sleep in the same bed as him. Sometimes you wake up in his arms, his body pressed to yours, but other than that he hasn't touched you in any way. He seems to be waiting for your permission. You fear it won't take long until you give it. You've even stopped moving out of his hold the second you wake up, that's how touch starved you are.

You can barely hide your smile at how she rolled her eyes at the mention of her fellow packmate.

“It’s why I wanted to talk to you, actually.” She shifts a little closer. Her eyes are soft from the lack of sleep as she gazes at you. “I heard you’re part of a matchmaking program.”

You nod. She glances away. Shoko almost looks sheepish.

“I was wondering if we’d be able to join.”

A smile stretches across your face.

“Of course! What time do you think you could come in?”

☕︎

You didn’t expect Shoko to present as Alpha.

You two were childhood friends. Being older than her, it was more like you were a babysitter–not that you minded the role. Shoko was a quiet kid even in her younger years. You liked that she often trailed behind you, like your own shadow. It was flattering in its own way. You never had any siblings, so you often regaled her as your younger sister.

You thought she’d be a beta like you. Or maybe even omega. Alpha was the last designation you would’ve ever given a girl like her. Just like you, she had two beta parents–being anything else was close to impossible.

But, looking back, the signs were always there.

The scuffle wasn’t the worst you’d ever seen. Fights are normal, especially for kids around your age. Emotions run high, sometimes. If left unsupervised, children don’t usually have healthy outlets.

Shoko wasn’t a kid you’d ever picture getting into a fight, yet the evidence was clear. It looked worse than it actually was. You can see remnants of dirt clinging to her youthful cheeks from when she took the fall. Her clothes were lightly scraped, as was the skin on her knees. It was nothing a Band-Aid couldn’t fix.

You hadn’t seen what happened. You had been on the other side of the playground when the yelling happened. Shoko barely struggled when you pulled the kids apart. The other girl was crying. Shoko wasn’t. Being the older one, you decided it was best to end the day right then and dragged Shoko home.

The girl was always quiet, but that walk was like talking to stone. She never budged from her clamped lips and tightened fists, no matter how hard you prodded. A part of you understood why. She was probably resigning herself to her parents’ beratement. She didn’t need a lecture from you, too.

Just when you were about to give up completely, she gave in.

“She said she was your friend.” She told you quietly.

“The girl with pigtails?” You asked

Shoko nodded. “She called you her friend, even though you’re mine.”

You glanced down at her hand, tightly clasped on your own.

“I can be both of your friends.” You gently tried to suggest.

She shook her head. Her grip tightens.

“No.” She said with a finality you’ve never seen in a child before. “Only mine.”

☕︎

Despite being well into the modern era, alpha-and-omega matchmaking programs haven’t lost popularity. It’s become a multibillion-dollar industry. Nowadays, instead of being sold off for political power, omegas and alphas can simply go to their local agency to find their mates.

Obviously, betas like you aren’t permitted to join, but you are highly encouraged to become matchmakers. Neutral scents are helpful when it comes to finding alpha-omega pairs. It’s comforting to omegas and non-threatening to alphas. Betas can not only act as matchmakers but also as barriers if things go awry.

You highly doubt that you’d need to be the latter, however, for this pack.

They arrive ten minutes before the official appointment. You knew Shoko had something to do with that because you doubt Satoru ever lost his lazy streak. Having no client, you decide to take them in early.

Satoru’s just as chatty since the days from highschool. He trails behind you as you lead the group to your office, asking about your day and then telling you about his. You didn’t think he’d be a teacher, but he always managed to surprise you.

Suguru is reserved but friendly. He greets you after Satoru’s tight hug, giving one of his own. You heard he now heads a Buddhist temple, though you never considered him the religious type. It’s hard to imagine him in traditional clothes after seeing him in casual wear and a high school uniform for so long.

“Didn’t expect you to be part of a breeding program.” Satoru comments after you’ve shuffled them into your office. He leans in, probably to inhale your scent again. They’ve all done that once or twice. Satoru’s just not as subtle as the other two.

It’s an alpha thing. Omegas and alphas are different from betas. Unlike you, they rely more on pheromones to guide them around the world. He hasn’t seen you in a while; it’s normal to see if your scent has changed.

“We try not to call ourselves that.” You lightly respond, settling behind your office. “Trust me, it’s not as intense. All we do today is look over what you want in a mate—basic preferences. Then I can pair you up with whoever fits best. What you do after is entirely up to you.”

It’s a bad joke. Only Satoru smiles.

You clear your throat.

“So, did you have anything in mind?”

They exchange glances. You, completely used to losing alphas, continue briskly.

“We’ll start with broad strokes,” you tell them. “Obviously, you want a mate who’s open to a pack, right?”

“Yes.” Shoko agrees.

You type it across your keyboard. Alpha packs do a lot better in the program compared to single alphas. Often, your omega clients specifically requested them. You doubted you would have any trouble finding a match for these three.

“Perfect. Any age preference? Younger, older—“

“—older.” Satoru interrupts. Suguru elbows him, but Satoru doesn’t waver. “Definitely older.”

Suguru and Shoko don’t look particularly happy at his intrusion, but nobody objects. You add it to their profile.

“Any particular scents?” You ask.

“Not too sweet,” Suguru says. “Something more neutral.”

Satoru doesn’t look too interested in this topic. “What he says.”

Shoko is more concrete with her answer.

“Earl Grey.”

You try not to react to that, typing it into their profile with little hesitation.

“I think that’s enough for now.” You hurry along. “Do you have any education or work expectations?”

“Not particularly,” Shoko responds. “I think we’re looking more for a homemaker type– someone willing to settle down for pups.”

You had a feeling. Alpha packs are more interested in being providers, caring for their omega mate who is cuddled in a nest. Most omegas feel the same way. It’s a fairly symbiotic relationship.

“What about you?” Satoru asks.

You look up at him.

“Pardon?”

“Are you thinking of settling down? Having kids and all that?” He continues.

“Satoru.” Suguru chastises, but there’s nothing sharp in his voice. Shoko says nothing. Her warm, honey eyes always felt piercing. You always chalked it up to yet another alphan trait.

You shrug, thinking nothing of the question.

“Quit my job for a mate, you mean?” You ask before you shake your head. “I don’t think I could. I think I’d only be able to do it for a specific person, but I don’t think a person like that exists.”

Besides, you love your job. You love helping people find matches and life-long mates. Why would you ever give that up for children?

“But if that person did exist–”

“Satoru.” You interrupt. “We’re looking for a match for you, not for me.”

He huffs, leaning back in his seat, almost like a scolded child.

“Fine.” It almost sounds like a whine. You try not to laugh.

The rest of the appointment proceeds smoothly. Half an hour later, you’re able to gather additional specifications and preferences. Unlike the first few questions, the three are far more lax with their answers. Typically, after the first session, you’re able to put together matches off the top of your head. For whatever reason, these three were far too vague for you to get a clear idea.

“I think I can figure things out from here.” You tell them when the hour is up. “Would you be ready to meet your potential matches in a week or so?”

Suguru genuinely looks surprised. “I didn’t realize it would be so quick.”

“It’s more for trial than anything else.” You respond. “Don’t feel pressured if you aren’t ready.”

“That’s fine,” Shoko tells you. “Will you be with us when we meet them?”

“Of course not.” You assure. “I’ll just give you their profile. Whatever happens next is entirely up to you.”

You expect her to look relieved. She says nothing. None of them do.

“In any case, it was really nice seeing you three again!” You say when you lead them out to the door. “I wonder why we never met up after high school?”

Satoru frowns as he returns your hug. “It’s ‘cuz you practically ran away from us, remember?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call graduating and moving to college ‘running away’. Still, you laugh.

“I’ll try not to do that from now on.” You tell him. “You still have my number, right?”

Satoru’s still whining as you walk them through shiny glass doors. Suguru offers to buy you lunch, to which you decline. You had another client in a few minutes.

“One more thing before you go.” You call out just before they leave. “I’m a little curious: what made you decide to join the program?”

The three look at eachother. A secret conversation only alphas could ever have.

“We got tired of waiting,” Suguru answers.

Later, you realize that isn’t much of an answer.

☕︎

The three weren’t always this close. You could distinctly remember a time Shoko hated the other two.

Your community was mostly betas, with a small number of omegas. Until then, Shoko lived her school life as the sole alpha for miles around. Being her senior, you constantly worried about her. Alphas weren’t betas. There would always be a missing link between the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to accommodate her. As much as Shoko assured you otherwise, you knew a part of her would always feel that void.

And then, Gojo and Geto came along.

Both alphas. Both in the same year as Shoko. They exemplified the look of Alpha. Both of them towered well over the rest of their peers, already well over six feet despite their ages. When they smiled, you could see glimpses of silvery-white fangs. Being the only alphas in the entire grade, they were extremely interested in Shoko. You were ecstatic, happy to see your friend finally make friends with others.

Shoko was less than enthusiastic.

You didn’t understand why she wasn’t perceptive towards them. When they tried to extend their friendship, she raised her hackles, and her eyes would darken. She was well past her days getting into fights on the playground, but you were sure she was close to snapping on certain occasions.

Gojo and Geto continued to hover around her, despite her hostility. Since you were her friend, they hovered around you, too.

You tried to be a bridge for the three. Shoko hardly ever rejected your invitations to hang out. When the other two tagged along, that fact never changed, but she never seemed happy about it. She’d latch onto your arm, baring her teeth when the other two got a bit too close for her liking. You stopped initiating those hangouts as her clinginess often got far too debilitating.

“You need to be more social.” You finally told her.

“No.” She responded stiffly, her voice muffled by your shoulder.

You two sat on the school rooftop underneath a sunny, cloudless sky. Even on days like these, it was sparsely populated. Most of the student body preferred to have their lunches in the cafeteria or the courtyard.

“They’re being nice.” You urged. “They’re being so nice, and I can’t be your only friend forever.”

“Why not?” She asked.

You rolled your eyes, jostling her ever so slightly.

“I just can’t.” You insisted because you have bigger dreams than being stuck in a tiny town, you know, that has no future. There was a life outside of this place.

Also, you didn’t like being Shoko’s only friend. There’s a reason why she’s so protective of you–possessive at times. It’s an alpha thing: they can’t help but take and keep. Her possessiveness was terrible in her younger years, but at least now she’s a tiny bit better about you having other people to hang out with. Still, she refuses to become closer to anyone but you. Even in middle school, she barely had a handful of acquaintances she was quick to abandon in favor of you. It’s not healthy to be so isolated like that. You worried for her.

She’s about to say something, but then something sour crossed over her face. Shoko hunched over as she melded herself further into your side. You abandoned your chastising and gathered her up in your arms.

Shoko’s ruts were severe. She was almost always out of school those days. Even after her rut passed, she took days to recover. She was weakened and intensely more irritable in the aftermath. The only good part of her ruts was that in the days after, her scent became stronger, even to your weak betan nose. Shoko's scent reminded you of summer turning into fall. A low hill. A grassy plain. A dessert just after a large rainfall. Unlike the few alphas you knew of, her scent wasn't overly invasive. It was clean, and low, and rumbling. 

For Shoko, certain vices eased the agony. Nicotine helped, but you never liked the way the smell of cigarettes clung to her body. You tried to help the best you could, letting her cuddle you in quiet places away from prying eyes, rubbing her scent all over you to self-soothe.

But there was a limit a beta could do.

Her volatile ruts were yet another reason to be closer to Geto and Gojo. Alpha pheremones help other alphas. Just being in proximity to another would be enough to steady herself.

Shoko knew this, and yet she remained stubborn.

“You don’t get it,” she whispered after her episode passed. Her eyes were shut as she leaned further into your space.

“You can’t smell them like I can.”

You tilted your head, about to prod further, when Shoko opened her eyes. Her lips twitched into a frown. Less than a heartbeat later, the rooftop door flung open just as a giddy Gojo called out, ‘Found you!’ with a satisfied Geto trailing just behind him.

Shoko barely held back a growl as you pulled her off her feet to greet the other two, quickly forgetting her words. No matter how resistant she was, your determination to get her closer to the other two never faltered.

But sometimes, even you wondered if they were right for each other.

You never meant to eavesdrop. You and Shoko always walked home together; it’s the only reason you made your way to her homeroom, wondering what the hold-up was. She never made you wait. If anything, you always arrived after her.

It looked like a fight, but why would Gojo and Geto smile if they were fighting?

Shoko sat at her desk. She barely packed. You saw notepads and pencils scattered across her space. Gojo sat backwards on the desk right in front of her, hands crossed on the chair as they stared eachother down. Geto stood a little way away.

They were already in mid-conversation. You barely caught the tail-end of it.

“-Who cares who marked who first?” Gojo said, an overdramatic pout arched over his lips.

“You should really learn how to share, Ieiri.” Geto continued because back then, they weren’t on a first-name basis yet. “It’d be better for all of us if you did.”

“You know that’s not natural, right?” Shoko responded; her honey eyes were no longer rich and warm. “You should give up.”

“Shouldn’t you, too, then?” Geto wondered.

The conversation ended the second Shoko noticed you. She stood up in a rush, barely shoving her things in her backpack before she marched up to you and dragged you away with a harsh grip on your arm. You could barely wave to your other two underclassmen before you were carted away by her.

You never asked, abandoning the curiosity as soon as you saw the expression on her face. You always wondered what would have happened if you had arrived just a bit later.

☕︎

Utahime wrinkles her nose before she enters your apartment.

“You smell like him.” She gripes.

You tilt your head before remembering there’s only one alpha in the world that made her face twist up like that.

Satoru always had a habit of scenting you in high school. You may not be able to smell it, but other omegas and alphas can. You scolding him while he sulked on his desk like a puppy wasn’t an uncommon sight. Obviously, he hadn’t broken the habit.

“I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You frown. “I don’t think omegas will like the idea of him scenting a beta.”

The omega perks up. “Wait, he’s joined the program?”

“All three of them, actually.” You tell her as you both settle down in your kitchen. “I managed to set them up with an omega just a couple of days ago.”

Your omega client seemed absolutely thrilled when you told him. Alpha packs are growing more uncommon by the day, so he was right to be excited about it. You hope it went well. He matched most of the pack's wants, so you don’t think it will end in complete shambles.

Utahime still looks unconvinced. “I didn’t think they went for omegas.”

You understood what she meant. In high school, those three never seemed interested in omegas. Shoko was friendly with Utahime, but Satoru always picked on her, and Suguru occasionally joined in. At first, you assumed it was a ‘pulling on the pigtails of the girl you liked’ situation, but their teasing often felt hostile.

“Maybe they finally grew up.” You tell her. “Do you ever wonder who the pack leader is? I never had the chance to ask them, but I always wondered.”

Asking about that kind of thing is a bit rude, especially if you weren’t a potential omega. You’ve seen other packs before, and it’s typically pretty easy to tell who the pack leader is. It’s usually the one who’s always biting the others down, keeping them in place. Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru aren’t like that. They work so well-together, it gets hard to tell who’s really calling the shots.

Utahime snorts. “It’s obviously Gojo.”

“Obviously?” You echo.

“His scent is the strongest. That’s usually what determines it,” She explains, not sounding too interested. “I bet he whined and whined until the other two gave in.”

You felt bad for laughing, but you could honestly imagine that.

“I’m really surprised Shoko’s still with them.” You continue. “I know they’re all pack, but she’s so different compared to the other two.”

Satoru was the most outgoing, but Suguru had his own quirks. Shoko was the odd one out, you always felt.

Utahime shrugs, rifling through her bag. “Maybe they have more in common with each other than you realize.”

For a bit, the topic of the three is dropped. You let Utahime ramble about her work and how her students are doing as she sets out her newest creation: a chocolate raspberry cake.

Omegas have certain quirks when their heat approaches. Utahime bakes–something you take full advantage of. You would feel bad about begging her to bring over her desserts all the time, but Utahime never seemed to mind your desperation. Like most omegas, Utahime's scent was slightly stronger. Now, even your weak betan nose could catch a whiff of her scent in the air. She smelled gentle, like flowers dancing in the wind on the side of a grassy mountain. 

“This is incredible.” You moan when you take another bite of chocolate goodness. It practically melts on your tongue. “Can you be my mate? I’d make you happy, I swear.”

She looks away. “Shut up.” There’s no heat in her voice.

“Have you considered it, though?” You wonder, inhaling another slice. “Joining the program, I mean. I can think of a few alphas that might interest you.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think my type is in the program, and besides.” Her face turns disgusted. “Now that Gojo’s in it, I’m not taking any chances.”

You laugh. “I’d make sure to never pair you up, I promise!”

She huffs again. Your voice quietens as you remember something.

“Hey, I was wondering…what do I smell like again?”

She frowns. “Why do betas always ask that? You need to get better noses.”

“Just remind me.”

She rolls her eyes, but she acquiesces.

“You smell the same as always,” she tells you. “Like Earl Grey & Cucumbers.”

By the end of the week, you finally get the call you were waiting for.

You pick up on the second ring and immediately press the speaker button.

“Hiro!” You trill, making yourself comfortable on the sofa. “How have you been?”

Your omega client responds in kind. You make small talk until you eventually bring it up.

“So,” you ask, “how did the date go?”

You expect a barrage of excitement and blabbering. Hiro is a sweet guy. You could tell he would mesh well with those three. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for making such a good match.

“It went okay.” His answer stills.

“Okay?” You repeat.

Just okay? You expect something far more than such a simple answer.

At your silence, Hiro continues.

“Maybe okay isn’t the best word. I liked them but…” he trails off. “I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“Huh,” you say, tapping your fingers. “What did they say exactly?”

“Not much, I mean, they were nice. I just don’t think our personalities meshed well. They were all so quiet, I felt like I was doing most of the talking.”

“Quiet? Even Satoru?”

“I don’t even think he spoke,” Hiro confesses.

You do not think the word quiet appeared in Gojo’s dictionary. He constantly chattered, unable to let the world forget he existed for hardly a moment. It was a major reason you paired Hiro with them. He is just as bubbly. You thought he and Satoru would work really well together.

“Wow,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I really thought things would work out between you four.”

“It’s fine,” Hiro responds, just as disappointed. “Plenty more fish in the sea, right?”

You once again tell Hiro your apologies before hanging up. Weird, you usually had more trouble appealing to your omega clients compared to your alpha ones. Maybe this would be a lot harder than you initially assumed.

☕︎

Halfway through your second year, Geto joined the newspaper club.

You were ecstatic when he told you. Shoko couldn’t participate in any early-school activities due to her poor sleep habits, and you doubt Gojo would’ve enjoyed them. Having somebody you knew do an activity you enjoyed was really exciting. It was something you and he bonded over, much to Shoko’s chagrin.

When you had club projects together, it was common to go over to one or the other’s houses. You liked Geto’s house. It wasn’t so large, not like Gojo’s sprawling mansion you’d had the misfortune of getting lost in once or twice. Geto’s home was vibrant and warm, filled with splashes of color and properly decorated furniture.

His parents were nice too. You liked the snacks they brought out, more than happy to indulge in the intricate sweets they prepared.

His parents were a proper alpha-omega pair. His alphan-father was boisterous and hearty in a way that reminded you of Gojo. His voice was loud, and his laugh practically rang through the halls.

His omegan-father was a bit on the meek side. You could count the number of times he’d directly spoken to you. His voice was soft–a complete contrast to his mate. He often resigned himself to quietly nodding along with whatever his husband rambled on. You could count the number of times he’d directly even looked at you.

Once, when Geto was still rummaging upstairs for something or another, you wondered out loud how they met. The alpha was more than happy to tell you the story of how he met his omega. You learned that they were childhood friends before the omega decided to part ways for a bit. Eventually, they reunited and got mated soon after.

“You waited for ten years?” You asked in awe. “Did you ever consider moving on?”

The alpha laughed before shaking his head, “Never.” He told you with a smile. “When alphas find their mate, nothing can keep them away, not even time.”

Geto’s other father stood in the kitchen, dutifully wiping down a counter. He didn’t react when his husband told you about their love story. You could only assume he was used to it.

“That’s beautiful.” You gushed.

There’s a secret smile on the alpha’s lips before Geto marches downstairs, leading you out the door with a glare directed at his father.

“Ignore him,” Geto told you as you trekked to school. “He tells that story to every person he can.” There’s a roll of his eyes, and he failed to hide his embarrassment.

“I think it’s sweet.” You kindly told him as he averted his gaze. “I don’t think I could wait ten years for someone like that.”

Geto considered you for a moment.

“I don’t think I could, either.” He finally admitted. “At the very least, I would get impatient by the end of it.”

You thought you were about to agree when your phone beeped. You glanced at the notification, and your heart skipped a beat.

Takahashi<3: I’m free after school:)

You barely hid your smile. Geto didn’t miss your sudden giddiness as you typed away on your phone.

“Did something happen?” He asked.

You shook your head and placed your phone back into your pocket.

“I think I have a date later.” You told him, oblivious to the twitch on his lips.

“A date?” Geto echoed. You cheerfully nodded.

You liked Takahashi since the start of the school year. He was in your homeroom, and you were already close acquaintances. You wanted to get closer to him, but Shoko often thwarted your plans. She made her distaste in Takahashi extremely clear. You tried not to get too upset by her attitude. She was protective of you and probably thought you could do better. It’s what friends did.

“Maybe we should keep this from Shoko.” You told Geto right before the school gates. “She doesn’t really approve of the guy.”

Geto hummed. “I’m not surprised.”

The day passed on as it normally would. You trudged through your sludge of classes and waited for school to finally be over. When it did, you practically jumped from your seat, barely waving off your friends as you rushed out of the school gates.

Takahashi wasn’t waiting for you, but you didn’t mind. You could take some time to calm your nerves.

You waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

You sent him a text.

Eighteen minutes.

You sent another.

Students filtered past you, eager to abandon their homework in favor of arcades and hanging out with their friends. You remained where you were, feeling your excitement drain the longer Takahashi refused to show his face.

After nearly an hour of waiting, you gave up. He wasn’t coming. You wanted to call him, but you can’t bring yourself to. Embarrassment crept up your shoulders and neck. You felt so stupid for even waiting around for this long.

They caught up to you when you were halfway home, glumly dragging your feet across the pavement. Gojo’s long arm draped over your shoulders as he lightly jostled you in an effort to catch your attention.

“Where are you going?” He cheerfully asked. You frowned.

“Home, obviously.” You told him before glancing further up ahead.

Geto gave a lazy wave. Shoko said nothing. You expected her to be a bit less receptive towards Gojo for putting his hands on you.

She had no reaction.

“So, you’re doing nothing, right?” Gojo asked. Glee radiated from his body. “We should go to the movies!”

“That sounds fun.” Geto agreed, before he gave you a pointed look. “As long as you didn’t have anything planned?”

You appreciated that he wanted to give you an out, but it was for nothing. You planned to spend the entire day with Takahashi. Your afternoon remained empty now that he unceremoniously ghosted you.

“That sounds fun,” You said, “but I’m not in the mood to–”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it isn’t that weird Earthworm movie Gojo kept talking about.” Shoko piped in as she stepped closer.

“But it looks so funny!” Gojo whined as he tugged you in the other direction. The other two followed right behind him. “You should give it a chance.”

Despite your reluctance, you were dragged off to the movies regardless. You couldn’t remember the film. The popcorn tasted buttery and salty in your mouth. Gojo kept disrupting you to talk shit about every character that popped onscreen. You weren’t allowed to go home until hours later, when the three made it their mission to walk you home. By that time, you’d forgotten about your botched date. You were far more interested in how the three had suddenly grown close.

It was as if they’d always been friends. Their conversations with each other felt natural, almost right. Even their bickering no longer held Shoko’s usual hostility. Perhaps you’d been wrong to try to force it. They just needed to find each other in their own way.

That day might not have ended the way you wanted it to, but you were still happy.

The very next day, Takahashi completely ignored you. He no longer smiled or greeted you. He seemed perfectly happy pretending you never existed in the first place.

If you were being honest, you did not mind in the slightest. Over time, you forgot about the guy who ditched you, and life continued on as always.

☕︎

Part of you expects the luxury.

When Suguru extended the invite, you knew he was never one to pull his punches. When he plans something, he goes all out. He adores dramatics and flair. This time was no exception.

The restaurant exuded extravagance the moment you stepped through crystal-clear glass doors. The warm air soothed the goosebumps gathering on your arms– a complete contrast to the chilly wind lingering just outside. The floors and ceilings were perfectly polished to the point where you could almost see your entire reflection. The spiral columns were perfect ivory, perfectly matching the black-and-white theme throughout the floor. Your heels clicked against the tiles as your hostess led you through the restaurant. The sounds of clinking utensils and glassware filtered through your ears.

They were already seated, three pairs of eyes clinging to your figure as you made their entrance. Satoru was more than happy to greet you first. His eyes simmer, but his smile barely falters as you get closer.

“What?” You ask.

Satoru wrinkles his nose.

“You smell like alpha.”

“It’s probably because I work with other alphas,” you say, “You know half of my clients are alphas, right?”

“Ignore him.” Suguru cuts in before Satoru continues to badger you. “He skipped his afternoon nap, so he’s a bit fussy this evening.”

You wave it off. Truthfully, you were used to alphas getting mad over another alpha’s scent. It’s happened to a couple of your omega clients, as well as to you. It’s instinct for alphas to flare up when they smell other alphas. Biological. They can’t help it. You actually expected Shoko to be more hostile because of it, yet as you glanced over, she barely even blinked. She must’ve gotten over her scent possession days from high school.

You adjust yourself in your seat as the waitress strolls over. Food and drinks are ordered. You listen to Satoru whine about work while the other two chastise him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink too much, but barely half an hour in, and you’re already tipsy. You know this was supposed to be a get-together, a high-school reunion of sorts. Work was absolutely not to be discussed, but you couldn’t help getting yourself worked up over it. They might’ve been your old high school friends, but they were also the most difficult clients you’ve ever had.

Shoko notices first.

“Just say it.” She eyes you.

“Say what?” You tilt your head.

“You’re mad, right?” Satoru pipes in, absolutely delighted when you frown in his direction. “It’s all over your face.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Oh, it’s that bad, hm?” Suguru hums, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not mad.” You repeat, before wincing. “I’m…frustrated, I think. You guys are giving me a run for my money.”

After Hiro’s clear rejection, you paired a couple more omegas with the three of them. Each one ended in the same way. You would get a call from a disappointed omega telling you it didn’t really work out. Later that same day, three alphas would innocently seat themselves in your office–ready for another match.

You don’t even know what you’re even mad about. They’re allowed to make rejections; that’s their right. For whatever reason, it oddly felt like they were messing with you.

You could expect that type of behavior from Satoru, maybe even Suguru, but Shoko? You could never see her do something like that for the fun of it.

(Or maybe you were clinging to her high school demeanor–the sweet, quiet girl who used to trail behind you with soft brown eyes and a muted smile)

“At this point, I think you might be doing this on purpose.” Your lips curl up into a smile to indicate how silly you think that is. It’s clearly a joke. Low-hanging fruit, you guide them to so they can quell your worries.

None of them refute it. Eventually, Satoru starts rambling about yet another incident involving the students at his school. Suguru chimes in with his thoughts every now and then. Shoko just berates her packmates for being such nuisances. The topic is carefully avoided for the rest of the night.

With delicious and expensive food carefully stashed into your stomach, the four of you decide to call it a night. When you reveal you took the cab here, the three are quick to invite you into their own car. It doesn’t take you too long to give in.

When you step out into the cold, Shoko offers her jacket. She used to do that back in middle school; smother you with her clothes any time she could. She’d take your clothes too, sometimes. You used to find skirts and shirts missing every time she came over. She never stopped, not even when you scolded her for it over and over again. ‘An alpha thing,’ your parents once told you when you complained, ‘you need to be more considerate of her nature. She can’t help herself. It’s instinct.’.

When she does it now, you don’t think it has anything to do with her instincts. She grew out of it when high school came around. Today, Shoko wraps her jacket around you to protect you from the blistering cold as you follow them outside.

The car belongs to Satoru. You’ve never seen it before in your life, but you can instantly tell. It’s Satoru’s in the way that it’s bright red and sleek. He starts the car with a low rumble. You climb in the back, feeling your seat hum as the car purrs to life.

Suguru settles next to you while Shoko gets into the passenger seat. Your stomach flips when you start to buckle yourself in. You start to remember all the times Satoru nearly killed you with his driving skills back when he first got his license. He’d been so excited back then, constantly offering rides to your house, the arcade, and even to places where there was no need for a car. His need to show off was an ever-present part of his personality back then.

“Did he ever learn to drive properly?” You can’t help lean over and whisper in Suguru’s ear.

He laughs while Satoru puffs from somewhere in front of you.

“I heard that,” Satoru says, “My driving was never that bad. You’re so dramatic.”

It was much worse than bad, but you decided not to bully him about it. Surprisingly, Satoru drives a lot nicer than you expect. He maintains a mostly steady pace, not at all like the sharp halts and breaks his younger self seemed to like so much.

He catches your eye in the rearview mirror.

“See?” He tells you with a proud smile.

You roll your eyes, unamused.

“Honestly, I’d take highschool you’s driving over Utahime’s,” you say, watching the city nightlife as the car speeds up, “she insists on driving fifteen miles below the speed limit. It takes an hour to get anywhere.”

“Utahime?” Suguru echoes, and you remember he probably hadn’t seen her since high school.

“How is she?” Shoko asks.

“She’s doing well.” You respond.

You’re about to offer a reunion before you clamp the urge down. She wasn’t their friend, after all. If anything, she barely tolerated them. Anytime your juniors would crash your hangouts, Utahime’s face would instantly pinch up. For your sake, she remained mostly civil.

“Is she mated?” Shoko asks.

You eye her. It’s a weird question to ask, but you give in anyway, not really seeing the harm.

“No, not that I know of,” you admit, “she’s not a big fan of the matchmaker program, either.”

You’ve tried to convince her numerous times, but Utahime refused to budge. She’d get oddly offended anytime you even broached the topic, so you’ve decided to avoid it.

For a split second, you catch Shoko and Suguru looking at eachother with dark eyes. Secret conversations only alphas could have. You bet their scent was dipping in a way only they could sniff out. A part of you always wondered it was like, but you never wondered for long. It’s not like you’d ever get to experience it.

Were they thinking of Utahime as a potential mate? You didn’t want to burst their bubble, but you highly doubt she’d be happy about that.

“We keep talking about our love lives, but what about you?” Suguru suddenly asks.

You glance at him. “My love life?” You ask.

“Met anyone special lately?” Satoru prods from the front.

You shake your head, watching the scenery pass you by. You remembered them being curious about your dating life back in high school, constantly hounding you the moment you got close to another beta who wasn’t them. It was only natural. Alphas and omegas found lifetime partners in a very different way compared to betas. To you, the idea of talking and going on dates to get to know someone is natural. To alphas, it must sound like an alien concept.

“I’ve got my hands too full of you three to even bother meeting someone.” You tell them with a teasing lilt in your voice before it fades. “Besides, meeting another beta is a lot harder than meeting up with an omega. Everything’s less instinctual, I think.”

“Why would you only restrict yourself to betas?” Shoko asks.

The alcohol was getting to you. Your lips are a bit looser than usual. Your words are cruder. You roll your eyes.

“Who else is there? An omega?” Your voice dipped into a sardonic sneer like you couldn’t even stomach the thought. “An alpha?”

You laugh at the joke. They don’t join in. You don’t notice the darkened tension in the car as you continue to stare out the window, not minding the silence. The evening tired you out. You stifle a yawn, and your eyes drift closed.

Something sharp grazed your neck.

Your eyes snap open. The car has stopped. You glance over to Suguru.

He smiles. There’s a respectful distance between the two of you. He remains a seat apart.

“Did I startle you?” He genuinely asks. “Sorry, I was trying to wake you up.”

“Oh.” You say, calming down your racing heartbeat. “No, it’s okay. Are we here?”

You raise up, trying to peek at the window. Your apartment complex lies just a little way away.

“Home sweet home!” Satoru cheers, his glee having fully returned.

“We’ll walk you up,” Shoko suggests.

“No.” You fumble with your seatbelt. “You’ve done so much already. Thanks for the night. It was fun.”

“It was.” Suguru agrees. “We should do it again, sometime.”

You eye him again. He still hasn’t moved. You resist the urge to touch your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to make your voice sound so clipped. “That would be great.”

You step out into the cool night air, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes that followed you across the sidewalk and up the stairs. As soon as you got out of their eyesight, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Hours later, when you’ve showered and settled into bed, you finally decide to tell yourself there was nothing. You had been half-asleep. You probably dreamed it. You’ve known those three your entire lives; there was no way they could do something like that.

And yet, a part of you could feel it on your neck. You reach up to lightly press on the patch of skin. There was nothing, but a part of you had that feeling memorized. You don’t think you could ever forget that feeling.

Teeth rasping right over your scent gland.

☕︎

You never truly saw Shoko as an alpha until your last year of high school.

You never had the chance to. You’d grown up with her by your side. You saw her every day. You didn’t notice her slowly surpassing you in height. You didn’t notice the way her teeth grew sharper and sharper. To you, she remained as Shoko: your tiny little follower.

In your head, you always put her in a different category than Satoru and Suguru. They were your friends, but they were also alphas. Shoko was your friend. There was a difference, though you weren’t sure what the difference was.

The incident happened sometime toward the end of the school year. By then, the three had formed a true pack. All the bad blood they shared in their first year had completely scattered by the second. They matched eachother well, moving as one coordinated unit. When the four of you hung out, you felt like you were the odd one out. It made you wonder if this was how Shoko felt when you forced her to hang out with your friends, an alpha surrounded by betas.

You weren’t upset at her for finding a friend group she matched with, regardless of how little you fit in. She deserved that.

You appreciated that she tried to incorporate you into her circle, too.

“Are you ignoring us?” Suguru asked.

You gave him a look, already exasperated.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned. “You literally asked me to check your essay. That’s what I’m doing.” You gestured to the paper on your desk.

Technically, it wasn’t your desk. This wasn’t your classroom. The rest of the second year had already left for the day, preferring to spend their time at home or at clubs. These three remained the odd ones out, still lounging on their desks hours after the bell rang.

Since Shoko had this bad habit of refusing to let you walk home alone, you were often forced to sit with them, waiting around until they decided to leave.

You sat just behind Suguru and Shoko. Suguru’s elbows rested on the chair’s back as he watched you work. Shoko mirrored him. Satoru abruptly left a few minutes ago, most likely to get a snack from the vending machine to satisfy his sweet tooth. The only evidence of his presence was his sunglasses and his backpack, hung over his chair.

“I’m starting to think you just gave this to me so I won’t get bored.” You complained. “Your writing’s perfect as always. What am I even looking for?”

“I’m sure you’ll critique it well,” Suguru responded, as an amused smile spread across his lips. “I trust your judgment.”

You rolled your eyes but cast your gaze down on the paper, hoping to find something to nitpick. You knew that was an impossible feat. These three were at the top of their class for a reason.

“I give up.” You told him, handing his paper back. “It’s perfect. I see a 100 in your near future. Stop fishing for compliments.”

He laughed, but he accepted his essay back with fingers ever so gently brushing over yours.

“Besides, I’m not really good at grading.” You continued. “Utahime’s the literature expert.”

“I don’t think she’ll be too happy being asked for a favor like this.” Suguru countered as he tucked away his assignment. His nimble fingers ran across his backpack and tugged the zip shut.

You clicked your tongue. “That’s because you and Satoru are constantly picking on her.”

Your eyes slide to Shoko.

“She likes you at least.” You tell her with a teasing smile.

In that, you mean the two girls are civil to each other. By that time, you gave up on Utahime’s ability to cozy up to these guys. They’re a lost cause–the few omegas in your school already steer clear of them. It’s clear they aren’t looking for anyone to complete their pack.

“I don’t think it’s like that.” She refuted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but then their expressions shifted.

Their hackles raised. They sat up straighter. Alert. You’ve never seen them act like that before. Your smile faded, pulled away from your lips by their sudden behavior.

There’s a soft thump at the classroom entrance. Your eyes landed on Satoru’s body, leaning against the door. His breaths were ragged, shoulders hunched over.

You stood up, making your way towards him. Shoko called your name, but you didn’t stop. You hesitantly reached for your junior. Concern settled at the back of your throat. Was he sick or something? He seemed okay when he left just a few minutes ago.

“Satoru?” You called, watching his shoulders stiffen. “Is everything okay–”

You saw his eyes. There was a flash of blue and teeth before he lunged at you.

Suguru stepped in before he could make contact.

There was a clatter of desks as Suguru pushed his friend to the floor and restrained him. You stumbled back, nearly tripping over on your feet, before your back collided with Shoko. She held you securely in her arms as you watched the struggle.

You couldn’t even recognize your friend as he breathed heavily, still pinned underneath your other friend. His eyes hadn’t left yours. They were clouded, unfocused.

Satoru’s scent was often muted to your beta nose. Sometimes, when he got particularly worked up, you caught a whiff of something deep and almost fruity in the air.

Today, the clear scent of Satoru invaded your senses.

Rut, your brain supplied even when your body remained helpless to do anything but watch. Satoru had gone into rut.

“Should–” Your voice shook. You swallowed down your nerves. “Should we get a teacher–”

Shoko called your name again. This time, you listened.

Your eyes drifted up to meet her own. She stared straight at Satoru’s writhing body.

“You need to go. Now.”

You don’t recognize her tone. You’ve never heard such a voice come from her before. It was deep, almost guttural. Unapologetically alpha.

It was why you obeyed. Silently, you packed up your stuff, putting away your assignments and pens, shoving them into your bag. You avoided the scene of the two alphas calming down their packmate as you fled the classroom. You heard Satoru’s grunts through the hall. They followed you, rang through your ears the entire walk home.

The next day, Satoru wasn’t at school. When he returned the day after, the incident remained unspoken. The three refused to acknowledge it. You did the same, following in their footsteps. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. You wanted to forget the vision of Satoru staring up at you with clouded eyes. You wanted to forget Suguru’s strength as he restrained his friend. You wanted to forget what you heard in Shoko’s voice.

It was easier to pretend.

Around that time, you looked into colleges out of town.

☕︎

You think it’s time you cut Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko off.

Not personally. It’s the first time in a while that the four of you have seen each other since high school. Nostalgia for the good old days clouds your vision. You couldn’t do that to them or to yourself.

But clearly, your services were not working out for them. The many matches and omegas you have set up always ended in rejection. There wasn’t a single omega they liked, and they often had vague reasons for why. Getting a clear answer was like pulling teeth. Maybe they couldn’t be honest with you because of your past with them.

It was not fair to those three. Maybe you were wrong to offer your services. You should have recommended one of your fellow matchmakers instead. A part of you will always feel guilty for jumping the gun like that, far too excited to help your friends find love than being logical.

You’d cut them off professionally. As for personally, you would still keep in touch here and there. Just not as often. You were gradually declining their invitations to hang out. You texted them less and less. You wouldn’t cut them off, but you were slowly starting to remember why you drifted away from those three in the first place.

You agonized over your decision for days, wondering how to break it to them.

When they extend the offer for drinks at their place, you decide to bite the bullet.

One rainy evening, you step out of your car, blinking away the drizzle as you stare up at the mansion. It was large enough to pack ten families into the estate. You knew Satoru’s family was well off, but it always breaks your brain when you try to understand how well off. Satoru offhandedly mentioned he liked the property for how demure it was compared to his childhood home. The front door puts your entire apartment to shame.

You barely wait a second after you knock. The door pulls open, and Shoko invites you in with a smile on her face. You return her hug, feeling her soft cashmere sweater underneath your fingers. She’d been smoking recently. The scent of it was faint but still noticeable in the air. A part of you wonders if you can chastise her as you did back when you two were kids.

You thank her. Thunder rumbles in the distance as you step inside. The rain and wind picked up, swirling angrily outside and pelting the windows.

“How long do you think the rain will last?” You ask her as she leads you further inside.

There’s another boom of thunder and lightning. Shoko glances down at you thoughtfully.

“We’ll definitely be stuck in here for a while.” She tells you.

You nod along. Hopefully, the rain lets up by the time you go home.

Unfortunately for you, the rain poured throughout the evening. Mother Nature refused to let up for even a moment, going on and on.

Compared to the chill of the rain, the house provided bright lights and warmth. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the three chattering about their daily lives. Throughout it all, you smiled and talked when necessary. You didn’t know if they noticed, but you were anxious, your entire body twinged with nerves. Despite the wine swirling in your cup, you refused to take a single drop. It’s best to have this conversation sober.

You wait until there’s a lull in the conversation. You take a deep breath.

“So, I was thinking about transferring you guys to another matchmaker,” you say. “But I want to hear your thoughts first.”

They don’t seem necessarily surprised by your declaration. Satoru adjusts himself on the couch. He props his chin on his hand as he studies you. His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Pretty sapphire eyes stare unwaveringly at you.

“Transfer us?” He echoes. “I thought we were your favorite clients.”

You try to match his lazy grin, but it comes out stilted and wobbly.

“I think it’d be best for you all.” You avert your gaze, fiddling with the cup, almost grateful to have something to keep your fingers busy. It was an expensive-looking cup. When the wine glass caught the light at just the right angle, it sparkled. Translucent glass turned iridescent.

“It’s not fair for me to keep you guys on like this for months,” you continue. “Every omega I’ve matched with you three always ends in rejection. Maybe you’d have better luck with someone else?”

You huff out a laugh.

“At this point, I’m starting to think you don’t want to meet omegas.”

You don’t need to have heightened senses of an alpha to know that was the wrong thing to say.

Immediately, the evening's quiet atmosphere turned heavy and daunting. You felt it in your shoulders as something invisible almost pinned you to the sofa.

Satoru’s smile almost turns feral.

“You’re right.” Shoko says.

You can’t read her expression. Her lips are pulled into a thin line. You think you like the lipstick shade the wears tonight. It compliments her tone well.

You squint at her. A pit forms in your stomach.

“What?”

“We don’t want an omega.” Suguru finishes for her. “And after meeting so many, I’ve never been certain of anything more. We don’t want an omega, we want you. We always have.”

He keeps his tone softing, almost coaxing, like you’re some wild animal. Despite the gentleness of his voice, his words cut deep into your soul. You’re shaking your head before you realize what you were doing.

“I don’t understand.” You repeat his words over and over in your head as you lift yourself from your seat. “I–I don’t understand why–”

“C’mon, you couldn’t have been that oblivious, right?” Satoru slips into the spot next to you. A long arm rests across your shoulders, keeping you in place. “We made things so obvious in high-school. Pretty sure Shoko was pining ever since elementary.”

You wait for Shoko to refute the claim. She doesn’t. Even now, you’re thinking everything they’re telling you is some type of sick joke–something alphas tell to unsuspecting betas to laugh at.

“I’m a beta.” You state the obvious. “You are all alphas. You can’t–you shouldn’t want me–”

“I don’t care.” Shoko says as she stares at you with pretty eyes the color of warm honey. “I never have.”

Satoru hums in agreement. He leans into your side, nuzzling his face into your neck. When he’s close like this, the smell of his scent is stronger. He smells like a Buddhist temple tucked away in the highest mountain peaks, unreachable to all. The wind howls and whisks past ice and rock. The air is freezing and thin, almost suffocating.

You move when he gets uncomfortably close to your nape, right where your scent gland is.

You throw his arm off your shoulders, standing up straight. You keep your eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at any of them. You don’t think you’d be able to look at them for a long time.

“I don’t want to listen to any of this anymore.” You hear yourself speak.

“You three are drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” You step away from the living room. Your movements are robotic. Stiled. Your body is kept on autopilot as your brain tries to keep up with what just happened. You head for the door.

“Sleep it off. We can talk about this later.”

You never reach the exit.

A hand grabs your wrist, keeping you in place. You turn back to see Suguru’s empty expression. His purple eyes are dark. He gives a smile. It looks hollow. Fake. Plastic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, “I just…I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

The words feel familiar. A conversation the two of you had a decade ago.

You open your mouth to ask when his lips swallow yours.

It’s utterly possessive in nature. Suguru’s scent envelopes you whole as he kisses you. He smells like what lurks underneath the roaring sea. You feel like you’re drowning, trapped in underwater caves where your ears pop from the immense pressure of the unwavering ocean.

Your hands press against his chest, urging him off. Even then, he only releases you when he’s had his fill. You stumble back, looking at his reddened lips and dark eyes. He’s breathing heavily, slightly hunched over like he’s ready to pounce. His eyes are wide and completely blown out.

You don’t think you’re looking at a person anymore.

You’re looking at a predator.

“Yeah.” It’s something between a growl and a laugh. “I don’t think I can wait any longer for this.”

Your words are cut off by a scream–your scream. There’s a harsh grip on your wrist before you’re being dragged back to the living room and haphazardly thrown onto the couch. Satoru’s hands keep you down as you struggle fruitlessly against his arms. He laughs somewhere above you as your vision twists and turns in mindless panic.

Satoru’s kiss is a lot more violent. He’s messy, smearing his scent all over your neck, your scent glands, eager to claim. His sharp teeth are more than happy to explore your lips. When he reluctantly pulls away in satisfaction, your lips are left in bloody tatters.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, either.” Satoru agrees with his pack mate. “I’m surprised you were the one who broke first, Suguru. What happened to ‘waiting ‘till everyone’s ready’ and all that bullshit? So desperate.”

Fingers play with the edge of your shirt as Suguru scoffs. “Shut up.”

“Stop.” You’ve never heard your voice sound like this before. “Don’t–don’t–”

“Enough.”

The two freeze. So do you. Something blankets over your body.

Calming pheremones, the last piece of your brain supplies, but who would…?

Shoko’s face enters your vision. You blink helplessly at her.

Her expression is serene and calm as she studies your body. Her hand reaches out, gently caressing your face and tracing the length of your jawline. You feel the scrape of freshly manicured fingers.

On omegas, alpha pheremones help them become more receptive towards their alphan mates. It calms them, makes them feel closer to their chosen mate, and helps the process move along.

On betas, however, alpha pheremones cross wires. You weren’t built to be receptive. It clouds your vision, making your thoughts hazy. The panic remains even as your body slows down.

“Did they scare you?” She asks, voice gentle and dripping with faux innocence.

You can only manage a weak whine. She smiles and leans down to place a delicate kiss on your feverish temple.

“It’s my fault.” The worst part is how honest she sounds. “I should have told you back in high school. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left, and maybe things would’ve been different…” Her voice trails off, and there’s this faraway look in her eyes.

“I meant what I said.” Her eyes focus on you again. “I don’t care that you’re a beta, but I don’t think we can treat you like a beta…not if we want you to understand that you belong with us.”

You look into her eyes, right underneath the bubbling warm honey. You think you see it then. Something rotten that festered there for at least a decade before it climbed its way to the surface. For a moment, you wonder how you hadn’t seen this in high school. You wonder how she tricked you, coerced you into becoming her friend despite the dark depths she held so closely to her heart.

And then, you understand she hadn’t hidden this from you at all.

Until now, you hadn’t seen her as alpha.

“I love you,” Shoko tells you earnestly, brushing away the tears cascading down your face. Then her voice hardens, and she isn’t talking to you anymore.

“I make the first bite.”

Satoru and Suguru don’t argue. Why would they? To alphas, the pack leader’s word is law.

Her kiss is gentle. She’s slow and careful as she carefully glides her lips and tongue against your own. She’s careful of her teeth, savoring your shuddering mouth as she swallows your cries and pleas.

You hate how familiar her scent is. Shoko is the Earth that the mountain rests on, where the oceans rock. She was everything you’ve ever known, and yet there was so much left to uncover. You just didn’t think you could do that before losing yourself.

Someone tugs down at your pants. Your eyes widen, and your panic builds up all over again. Shoko hushes you. Her lips trail to the edge of your jaw.

“He just wants to taste. Don’t mind him.” She tells you as Satoru tugs your pants down your sluggish legs. His fingers itch with eagerness as he squeezes the plush of your thighs.

“Don’t worry.” Shoko continues as Satoru practically rips your panties apart. “We won’t knot you tonight. We know you aren’t ready for that.”

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as he spreads your legs. He leans down to nuzzle your pussy, nose bumping at your clit. “You smell even stronger down here. ‘Can never get enough of your scent, I just wanna drown in it.”

“Who’s the desperate one, now?” Suguru goads as his own fingers explore what’s underneath your shirt. He grabs a fistful of your chest before squeezing. Your back arches up from his movement. He smiles.

Satoru ignores him and buries his face completely into your pussy. His tongue flicks out, eagerly lapping up at your hole. His movements are oddly stilted, almost unsure, mostly driven by instinct rather than anything else. Of course, he wouldn’t have any real sexual experience. Unlike betas, alphas and omegas mate for life.

His eagerness largely makes up for his lack of technique. Within moments, your body responds to him, urged on by his touches even though your mind is clinging on to the last semblance of sanity you have left.

“I love it.” His voice is almost a sob, strangely broken and muffled as his tongue drives deeper into your hole, hoping to drink up the essence of you. “I love this. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so glad we have you again.” His hands reach up to keep your trembling thighs away from his face, opening up more of yourself to his eager mouth.

“Satoru.” You hated how heedy your voice sounded. Your core clenched at the intrusion of him tongue-fucking your sensitive pussy, muscles contracting like they wanted nothing more but to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. Your eyes squeezed shut as he pulled out to nibble on your clit.

“Please–please don’t–I don’t think I can–”

“I know, baby.” He coos from somewhere underneath you. “It hurts, right? I can make it all better, I promise. Just let go, baby. You can do it, I know you can.”

Encouraged by Suguru playing with your tits and the constant pressure of Satoru right at your cunt, you can’t put it off any longer. Shoko licks a stripe across your neck, and you’re gushing all over Satoru’s face as your pussy cums over and over again. Fingers dig into your ass cheeks, keeping your hips from lifting up as Satoru wrings out every last drop you have. He doesn’t stop until you collapse, exhausted underneath the staggering weight of your orgasm.

With bleary eyes, you watch as he rises from your throbbing pussy. His lips are still shiny. He never breaks his gaze from you as he licks his lips, savoring each drop.

Suguru takes his place between your trembling thighs. There’s a hiss of a zipper. Your eyes get impossibly wider as his cock pops out from underneath his briefs. It’s already an angry, bright red.

You don’t fight this time, not when Shoko’s pheremones are already starting to drown you again. You watch as Suguru’s cock aligns itself to your battered pussy. The tip taps on your swollen clit as he rocks himself through your plush lips, once, twice, thrice, until his cock finds your hole.

You hate the way his eyes glaze over. He looks down at you with complete adoration.

“I love you.” He tells you. “I can’t wait until you love us, too.”

Shoko’s teeth find your neck at the same time he bottoms out. The pain of the claiming bite somehow overrides the fullness you feel as Suguru ruts into you over and over again, completely giving into instinct.

As you sensed him drawing nearer, you found yourself adjusting your posture, straightening yourself in a subconscious effort to be more presentable. From the corner of your eye, you noted that the others were doing the same.

There was temptation to smooth out a few wrinkles in your maid apron when you glanced down at yourself, but as you heard his footsteps from just beyond the room, you made yourself stay still. That seemed to be a good call, as a mere moment later, the man in question stepped through the open doors of the dining room.

Sakyo.

Standing tall and with his long black hair once again flowing freely over his shoulders, Sakyo entered and walked towards his seat without fanfare or any sort of acknowledgment to the gathered servants. As usual, he was dressed in one of his black suits, but even with his attire that had no doubt been expensive, your gaze only flitted over it briefly before you found yourself looking once again at the thin, angled scar that ran over his right eye and down his cheek.

It brought a certain sense of mystery to him, and no doubt many had wondered how he had gotten such a scar.

Just as they no doubt wondered how Sakyo had gained the power he held within the criminal underworld, all while being an omega.

Most people who took seats in the underworld and criminal organizations like the Black Black Club were alphas – or at least, they made themselves appear to be, generally by dousing themselves in artificial scents and applying blockers to their scent glands, all in the hopes that such efforts would gain them automatic respect. Such a thing was common even outside of the underworld, because if there was one singular fact that was true no matter what the circumstance, it was that alphas were the most respected out of anyone.

No matter what setting, be it within the workplace, the messy world of politics or even in a casual gathering, it was the norm for alphas to be the ones at the center of attention. They were looked upon as leaders, as beacons to guide those around them. That was the way things had been for centuries, after all. The alphas were the leaders, and everyone else – the betas and the omegas – they were expected to go along with what those alphas said.

Yet within the world your employer operated in, a cutthroat environment where flesh was bought and sold and rank was made even more important, causing those who hadn't been lucky enough to be born an alpha did everything to appear that way, Sakyo didn't bother with such things. No blockers, no artificial scents; he simply allowed the fact that he was an omega to be known to any and all.

What the other staff and those in organizations such as the Black Black club felt about the omega and his actions were unknown to you, but whenever you thought about your boss, you found that you were…. Intrigued.

An oddity in of itself, some would say, as you were also an omega.

But it wasn't anything deep, you told yourself; Sakyo himself was simply an intriguing character who carried himself in a way that caught your attention. Nothing more.

Still standing in place with the other servants, you watched as the head butler, Isamu, was quick to materialize at the head of the table and remove the dome off of the plate just as Sakyo took his seat. The butler was just as quick to take a step back when Sakyo nodded at him before he began to partake in his meal. The room was quiet save for the sounds of the cutlery occasionally making contact with the plate while the servants all stood silently should Sakyo need something.

And now that he was sitting in the room, his scent was even clearer than it had been before.

A scent that strongly resembled nicotine.

The tobacco smell was a common one to be found in the home. In part due to your employer's own natural scent that lingered in the areas he frequented the most, and also because of how much the man smoked on any given day.

While you weren't one to comment on the habits of others, the amount of cigarettes he went through was way beyond excessive.

It definitely wasn't your place to voice that opinion, however. You were hired to help maintain the house, not offer health advice, and you weren't about to lose your job because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

Plus, with the sort of business your employer was involved in, you could suffer something much worse than just being fired. One of the other maids, a woman named Miyabi, had mentioned to you of how she had heard that the mob boss Tarukane had been so upset once by a servant of his that he had them fed to one of his hoard of monster pets that he apparently kept in his basement, and he had gotten away with it because no one of importance would ever care about a single servant being viciously torn to pieces.

The thought of being eaten alive was horrifying, and the thought of no one caring about you suffering such a fate was depressing. Regardless of if the story was true or overinflated gossip, it only strengthened your resolve to stay out of trouble and on your employer's good side. Luckily for you, you had never seen your employer genuinely angry over anything. All things considered, he had a pretty mild temperament.

But it didn't hurt to act with caution.

Sakyo's morning meal progressed as it usually did, with him staying largely silent and hardly ever needing anything. All of the servants would stand around and wait for him to be done, and once he had left the room, you would clean up until it was sparkling before you would go on to the rest of your duties for the day.

And you would be fully focusing on your duties and not on your boss.

Or more specifically, his scent.

There was something about it that bothered you. While the nicotine smell was most prominent, there were hints of other scents mixed in that you couldn't identify, all because despite the fact you worked within his home, you had never gotten close to him. All of your normal duties had you working in the wings where he rarely went, and the only times you were physically in his presence was during the mealtimes. So there was always a distance that prevented you from being able to tell what exactly those other notes in his scent were.

The way he smoked like a chimney didn't help with you identifying them, either, which you occasionally found yourself being annoyed with.

Stop that. Things like that don't matter. Just do your job.

Hearing that internal voice of yours was also pretty normal, especially when it came to your boss…… Which some may have thought was strange that thoughts like those happened as often as they did, but it wasn't anything to worry about. Your mind just fixated on things for a while before moving onto something else. This thing with your boss was no different. You weren't interested; two omegas would never be drawn to each other.

You stood silently as you watched Sakyo finish his meal and leave the room soon after, already putting a cigarette into his mouth as he pulled out his lighter. Isamu was following behind him, and you heard them speaking to one another as they went over Sakyo's schedule for the day.

It meant nothing that your gaze stayed on Sakyo's back as he left, and that you kept your gaze on him until he had vanished from view completely. You were the same as the other servants, who only moved once he had gone so you could get on with your work for the day.

Sakyo just happened to be an omega with a charisma that naturally drew in others, no matter what their rank.

That was all.

“You need to change the sheets in the master bedroom; Miyabi was taken to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” you repeated, looking up at Isamu in concern while you asked “what happened?”

“She fell and landed on her wrist wrong. But I doubt it's anything to worry about,” Isamu explained. He then turned on his heel and began to walk away, though not before he called back to you “take care of the bed sheets. You can finish what you're doing later.”

“Yes, sir.”

Placing the silverware you had been polishing back down and removing your rubber gloves, you began to exit the room as well. While unexpected, you didn't mind; changing the bed sheets was at least something of a break from the mountain of silver that still needed to be taken care of.

Though you did worry about Miyabi, but Isamu had said it wasn't anything to worry about, so hopefully it wasn't anything too serious. Regardless, there wasn't anything you could do for her at the moment. As you went to the linen closet to gather up a fresh pair of sheets meant specifically for the bed in Sakyo's bedroom, you hoped she'd be back soon, and that she'd be alright.

As you carried the clean sheets through the halls, it struck you that you'd never been in Sakyo's room before. Miyabi was usually the one to take care of whatever cleaning needed to be done in there, and if not by her, then by one of the other servants.

The others must have been too busy if Isamu needed to go to you for it.

Eh, whatever. It was still nice to get away from the smell of the silver polish,

Upon reaching the double doors of his bedroom, you adjusted your hold on the linens in order to turn the knob on one of them, using your shoulder to push it open after.

As expected, the scent in Sakyo's bedroom was largely that of nicotine. Both from his smoking habit and his own scent.

It was even stronger than you were used to. But that was only normal.

Walking inside, you let the door swing shut on its own, though it came to a stop about halfway as it stood ajar. You barely noted that before turning your attention to what you had come here for: the changing of the bed sheets.

Something that was going to be a lot more tedious than it should've been, as when you looked over to where the bed stood, you found that it was one of those large, four poster beds carved out of dark wood that held an equally large mattress. Again, something that one man likely didn't truly need – though you did need to admit that the bed looked comfortable.

Placing the clean sheets onto a nearby armchair, you then walked over to the bed in order to begin the process of stripping it down. Starting with the covers, you pulled them off completely and set to the side before you turned your attention to the white sheets that had laid underneath and began to remove them as well, starting with the pillowcases.

And as you did so, the remnants of his scent were even stronger as they were almost embedded into the sheets.

It wasn't something you thought about at first. There was an autopilot running in your brain as you went about the task while your mind was a million miles away, thinking of what you wanted to do on your next day off.

You didn't think about his scent until you had taken the fitted sheet off of the mattress and bundled it up together with the others within your arms.

It really hit you then.

Sakyo's scent on the sheets that were now so close to your face snapped you out of your thoughts of leisure, and you stared down at the bunched up fabric that smelled so strongly of him.

His scent….

The tobacco smell, and the something more that you could tell was there but you didn't know what it was. There had never been a time that you were close enough to catch what other notes were mixed in with the prominent scent of nicotine, and the curiosity that had itched at your brain so often awoke once more.

It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. You shouldn't be so interested in the scent of your employer. Not when you were both omegas. By all accounts, there should be nothing to draw you to another of your own rank, you reminded yourself.

But it did bother you.

And you were interested.

Just about his scent, though. You were just curious about it. That was all.

And now that you were there, alone in Sakyo's room with the gathered up bed sheets sitting in a pile in your arms, a singular thought ran through your mind. A realization that you could satiate your curiosity.

It was alright if no one saw you, right? As long as you weren't noticed, none of it would matter.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted.

Pulling up the gathered sheets in your arms, you bent your head ever so slightly –

And then breathed in.

Something warm and sweet, yet spicy. Luxurious, even.

Tobacco. That part wasn't a surprise.

But the other notes were finally a bit more clear.

… Hints of rum? And maybe….. Vanilla.

That seemed correct.

There was another thing, but you stopped yourself as you straightened your head back up. That was enough. You didn't want to take any more risks by taking too long to smell… His sheets…

….. You just smelled your employer's dirty bed sheets.

Jesus fucking Christ when the hell had you turned into that sort of creep?

Frustration and embarrassment over your own actions filled your entire being as you took the gathered sheets and dumped them on the floor. What the hell was wrong with you? Why would you do that? Why had you justified it only moments ago due to curiosity? Actions like that were what would get you fired.

Or worse.

You shook your head as if to shake the memory out of your mind. You weren't going to think about this ever again, you told yourself as you reached for the clean sheets that sat on the chair. Once you were done in here, you were going to purge the memory from your brain completely, and then no one would be the wiser.

Feeling that determination to leave the room as soon as possible had you grabbing at the fitted sheet which sat at the bottom of the pile, pulling it out and quickly approaching the mattress. The sooner this gets done, the sooner you can leave and go back to your normal duties and forget this even happened.

Maybe the chemicals of the silver polish would help in erasing the details of his scent out of your mind, so you'd never need to think again about how much of a fucking weirdo you really were.

For now, focus on the task at hand. Getting the fitted sheet on would be the worst part of this whole chore. The mattress was huge, thus the sheet was just as huge, and you would need to lift up all four corners to make sure that the sheet was fully under before you would be able to move on to the next –

You heard something that came from behind.

The door to the bedroom, the one that had been sitting slightly ajar all this time, slowly creaked open.

You jumped.

Immediately you turned to face the entrance to the room while your heart beat loudly in your chest in a panic, scared of who you would see – scared of who had possibly seen what you had done.

Your anxiety spiked when you saw who it was.

Sakyo.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Sakyo, who's eyes met yours as he entered the room, and who subsequently raised an eyebrow in question as he caught sight of your frozen figure standing next to the bed. You had no doubt that you looked incredibly guilty.

“Did I startle you?” he asked.

“Ah – I'm sorry, sir. I was lost in thought. Hearing the door open like that was unexpected,” you rushed out, folding your hands in front of you with your head turned downward. Your heart was still beating fast and you could feel the sweat building up on your neck while the stress threatened to bleed through the scent blockers on your neck.

Calm down, you told yourself.

Take some deep breaths and calm down.

If you don't, he'll know you were up to something.

“Forgive me, sir,” you added.

He actually seemed somewhat surprised when you said that.

“What's there to forgive? It's hardly something to apologize for,” he said.

To that, you nodded, all the while your mind screamed at your heart to slow down.

Sakyo appeared unbothered as he entered the room fully, making his way to a small table that stood on the other side of the room. Taking a seat on the chair that sat beside the table, Sakyo pulled out two items from his pocket: a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Within a moment, the cigarette he had pulled from the packet was in his mouth and the lighter had been flicked open. The orange flame touched the end of the cigarette, and once it had been lit, the lighter disappeared back into the confines of his jacket pocket.

Taking in a brief inhale while the cigarette glowed, he pulled it away from his mouth to exhale.

He then glanced over in your direction.

“Don't stop on my account.”

Ah. Right.

You bowed your head again before you moved, turning around and walking to one corner of the bed with the fitted sheet in hand. Shaking it out first, you took one corner of the sheet and lifted up a small portion of the mattress to slip it over. Despite your best efforts, however, your movements were robotic and stiff.

You were already dreading this part of the chore, and now, not only did you need to do it with Sakyo in the room, but also while worrying that he had caught what you were doing just before he entered.

But if he had caught you, he would have said something, right?

He wasn't saying anything about it. So maybe he didn't see you.

Maybe you were in the clear.

You hoped – no, you needed that to be the case. Because if it wasn't……

That old gossip you had heard from Miyabi about what Tarukane did to servants who upset him came back to mind, and you needed to suppress a shudder.

Sakyo wouldn't do something like that…. Right? At the very least, he didn't have demonic animals in his basement, so the chances of you being eaten weren't the highest.

…. Though it was possible that he could set those demon brothers on you, the ones who's scents made you feel physically ill. The taller one with sunglasses smelled of sulfur and miasma, while the smaller one who skittered across his brother's shoulders like a fucked up parrot carried an overwhelming scent of soap scum.

The thought of dying at the hands of those two didn't sound much better than being eaten alive.

Calm down, you told yourself again. He hasn't said anything, so there's a good chance he didn't see.

During the process of getting the sheet on the first two corners of the bed, you had your backed turned towards him for most of the time. But now that you needed to walk to the other side in order to take care of the remaining corners, you took the opportunity to glance in his direction.

He was staring at you.

Fuck

Again, you needed to tell yourself to keep calm, that acting guilty would only tip him off that you had done something you shouldn't have.

He hasn't said anything about it so don't give him a reason to ask

Thinking that managed to calm down your nerves, and even though the way he stared at you while you finished tucking in the corners of the sheet made you uneasy, you felt better the longer he went without speaking.

When he did choose to speak again, you were considerably less frazzled.

“This isn't normally one of your duties, is it?” Sakyo asked.

“No, sir,” you answered as you gathered the next sheet in the set, “Miyabi needed to go to the hospital, so I took over for her.”

“Oh? What sent her to the hospital?” Sakyo asked as took another drag of his cigarette.

“I'm afraid I don't know, sir. I was only told that she had suffered an injury.”

“Hm. Well, hopefully it isn't anything too serious.”

He didn't seem genuine when he said that, nor did he seem to care all that much that a member of his staff had been hurt, and you couldn't decide if it was better or worse that he was pretending to be concerned.

But you nodded in response as you said “I hope so too, sir.”

Sakyo replied with a nod of his head as he exhaled more smoke before he brought the cigarette back to his lips.

All the while he continued to watch you.

Yet as the minutes passed and he said nothing more, you started to feel more confident in thinking that he hadn't seen you. Because surely by now, as you were tucking the next sheet into place around the bottom corners of the mattress, something would have been said. Some comment would have been made so you would know that everything was over. As much as Sakyo held an unconcerned air about him at all times, even he would have been put off by the sight of his employee smelling his sheets.

You again fought back a shudder as you the thought of your previous actions. Why the fuck did you do that?

Later. Yell at yourself about it later. Just continue the rest of this task as normal.

Not long after, you had done just that. The bed was neatly made with fresh sheets while the dirty ones sat in a small pile on the floor in front of the nearby armchair. Now all you had to do was take the dirty ones and toss them down to the laundry room.

Except with Sakyo being in the room with you, you weren't allowed to simply leave the presence of the master of the house without speaking to him.

Clasping your hands together as you turned your attention back to him, you asked “was there anything you needed from me before I left, sir?”

He shook his head.

“I'm afraid not,” he answered, blowing out a puff of smoke after.

You nodded as you spoke again, saying “then if you'll excuse me, sir.”

“Of course.”

Fighting against the urge to grab the sheets and sprint out of the room, you forced yourself to move at a normal pace as you gathered up the sheets and made your way towards the double doors.

Almost there. If there was any other time he was going to surprise you with the knowledge that he had seen you, then it would be just before you left, to lull you into a false sense of security that you had gotten away with it. You felt your anxiety spike again, and though he had been able to tell a lot just from your expression, you were thankful for the scent blockers that had kept him from smelling how panicked you truly were, though you would definitely need to rush back to the servant's quarters to change them out before you could go back to your duties.

But you needed to get out of his bedroom first.

Please let me get out of this room without him saying anything.

Please

Upon reaching the room's exit, you turned to him again and gave a small bow of your head.

He still hadn't said anything, and that allowed you to feel hopeful.

Hopeful until you glanced up at him one more time just before you stepped out of the bedroom.

Still sitting in that chair by the table, Sakyo had his eyes on you as you were leaving.

And you caught the way the corners of his lips had turned upwards in a small but noticeable smirk.

….. You didn't like that.

But nothing was said as you fully exited the room and closed the door behind you. And as you walked with the bed sheets while keeping them as far away from your face as you were able to, your heart continued to beat hard in your chest.

You'd gotten away with it. That needed to be the case.

You hoped so, anyway.

Only time would tell.

But for now you remained hopefully optimistic as you promised yourself that you would never do such a stupid action ever again.

It turned out that Miyabi had fractured her wrist after having fallen down the last few steps of a flight of stairs. Not the best injury to deal with, but certainly not the worst, and she was in good spirits when you saw her again the next day despite the cast around her wrist.

But due to the nature of her injury, she was unable to perform her regular tasks to the best of her ability, as the cast around her wrist that extended to a portion of her dominant hand had caused her to slow down.

Just like the previous day, those tasks of hers ended up falling to you. Except now you were taking care of them for the foreseeable future.

You hadn't realized until you had taken them over that nearly all of her tasks brought her into Sakyo's room, and now that you had taken them over while she recovered, you were forced to go in there daily. Suddenly, instead of cleaning the halls or taking care of things in the dining room, you were now taking care changing out his bed sheets, gathering his clothes for washing, ironing his shirts and cleaning up and dusting in his room.

All the while you were still terrified at the thought of what would happen to you if he knew what you had done.

Sakyo's behavior didn't help put you at ease, either. Unless he had left the manor, he was either already in the room or would enter it while you there. Even more unsettling – he always made a point to watch you, no matter what it was that you were doing.

You did your best to keep your face a neutral mask when he was with you, even during the times you could feel his eyes on you when you turned your back to bend down and smooth out the covers of the bed. The scent blockers that were made available to staff were being gone through much faster now, and that was all your fault simply due to the way Sakyo made you panic whenever he watched you or drew near.

Was this the way he acted around Miyabi? She had never mentioned such a thing, but maybe that was because she felt as though she couldn't mention it. You certainly didn't feel that you could say anything to anyone, not with Sakyo's position and the ties he had and the fact that you were a mere servant.

Though even as you assumed that this wasn't unusual behavior for him, there was always a thought at the back of your mind that this was something only you were experiencing, all because of what you had done that first day you took over Miyabi's duties.

But he hadn't said anything.

And you hadn't been reprimanded. Or gotten rid of.

The days immediately following the incident had you waiting with bated breath for when Isamu would approach you and tell you of…. Something that would be bad for you. Hopefully just you getting fired for being a freak. Hopefully not you having a private, impromptu meeting with the Toguro brothers.

But there had been nothing.

Just like that day when you left his bedroom with the sheets, nothing had been said, and in your mind, that meant he hadn't seen you. Because there was simply no way he would just let you get away with that if he had…. Right?

You told yourself that was the case the longer time went on and nothing happened to you. As for the way Sakyo watched you – that was just something he did to any servant in his quarters, you told yourself. Maybe as some sort of intimidation tactic. Why he would do that, you had no clue, but it must have been that he did the same thing to Miyabi and she had never said anything because she felt that doing so was pointless.

While it was creepy, it was ultimately harmless. On the plus side, as time went on and Miyabi's wrist would soon be healed enough to come out of the cast, you felt the stress leave you steadily. Soon enough, she would be able to go back to her duties, and you wouldn't need to enter Sakyo's room anymore. A relief; you'd actually begun to miss the smell of the silver polish.

Yet the day after Miyabi's cast came off, you were told to complete the tasks in Sakyo's bedroom.

And then again the day after.

And again after that.

And on the fourth day when Isamu told you that, once more, you needed to clean Sakyo's room, you asked him why Miyabi wasn't being assigned those tasks.

“Sakyo wants you to do it,” was all he said.

That was the only explanation you got, and your stress levels that had been decreasing slowly began to rise again, because his behavior wasn't stopping and you woke up every day fearing that your actions hadn't gone unseen as you had told yourself. Why else would he be acting like this?

“Maybe he thinks you're an alpha,” Miyabi suggested when you had been venting to her about it one evening, “that might explain why he's staring. Maybe he's about to have a rut and he thinks you'd be a good mate.”

“But I'm not an alpha. And it's not like he can't find that out easily; it'd be written down in whatever file Isamu has on me,” you protested.

Miyabi shrugged as she said “maybe it's just in your head, then. That was what happened to me at first. I was pretty freaked out by him because of the whole 'demon black market' stuff, but I got over it. Maybe you need to mentally get over it, too. It's not like you did anything that would make him act like that, right?”

“Yeah….”

Lying about it didn't feel good, but you didn't have any other option. Even if you trusted Miyabi, you weren't going to admit to her what you had done. Never ever ever would you admit that out loud. But it left you stuck, since you couldn't be fully honest about your worries and therefore couldn't get an answer that would make you feel better – if such an answer even existed.

The only way to know would be to ask Sakyo himself.

And that wasn't going to happen.

You let out a sigh as you then told her “sorry that I took over your duties.”

“It's okay. I like polishing,” Miyabi answered cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that was raging within you.

Wherever the conversation went after that point, you couldn't say. You weren't paying attention to whatever it was that Miyabi so happily chatted on about as the fear of what might happen to you was still at the forefront of your mind.

Another night would end with you tossing and turning in your bed while you cursed yourself out for making such a stupid, thoughtless action that had led you to be in this situation.

The sleepless nights were quickly becoming the new norm.

It was the day when the sheets in the master bedroom needed to be changed again.

Of all the chores you had come to loathe, this was the one you hated most due to the fact that the most recent embarrassing moment of your life always played in your head throughout the entire process. The one stupid fucking choice you made that you weren't allowed to forget because the scent on the sheets served as a constant reminder of what you did.

Always made worse by Sakyo due to him always being there and always staring at you.

You found yourself stalling briefly outside of his bedroom doors. It seemed like he was in there already, and you knew from the moment you entered to the moment you left, you would be under the constant stress of his scrutiny, and that stress would eat up into your scent blockers again.

Though you hadn't been found out yet, the others were getting annoyed at how fast those supplies were being gone through.

Letting out a soft sigh, you knew you couldn't stay out here forever. Shifting the clean sheets into one arm, you reached forward and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

As you suspected. Sakyo was there.

You turned the knob and pushed the door open, after which you bowed your head in his direction as you greeted him. He was sitting in that chair again, this time with a book in hand. As was usual, he didn't really say much in response, but his blue eyes took in your every move as you made your way over to the bed.

It'll be fine

As much as this made you uncomfortable, you'd be able to get through it.

Just change the sheets and leave.

Though the size of the mattress definitely made that easier said than done, but you were getting faster at it. That was something, at least.

The minutes felt eternal as you went about completing the monotonous work, pulling the sheets up and off of the bed until it was fully bare. With the easier part of the task done, you grabbed at the clean sheets, starting with the fitted one before you made your way to one of the corners.

Despite having that book in hand, it didn't seem like Sakyo was actually reading it. Once again, it was hard to shake off the feeling of how he stared at you, but you urged yourself to pay it no mind. You'd be done with this task soon enough and then you could leave.

….. Except you remembered that you would need to come back later to clean. Ugh.

Just ignore him, you told yourself.

That was the only thing you could do.

When you almost finished putting the fitted sheet on the bed, with your gaze kept firmly on what was in front of you and not where Sakyo sat, you didn't quite catch when he closed his book and set it on the table. You did, however, hear the slight scraping of the feet of the chair move over the floor which caused you to glance back at him. He was standing now, and then moving as he headed for the door.

He was leaving?

Finally

You brought your attention back to the task at hand, fixing the last corner of the fitted sheet over the mattress while you felt some of the tension in your shoulders lessen. Whatever it was that was pulling him away, you had no clue, but you were grateful for it. Maybe his weird behavior would stop now.

The door that had remained ajar when you entered creaked as it slowly shut, and for a second, you wanted to believe that he had left.

Then you heard his footsteps within the room.

You whipped your head around to see him coming towards you, and your confusion turned into worry when you saw that you had heard correctly when it sounded as though the door had been closed.

Not only were you alone with him, but now it felt like you'd been trapped.

He smirked at you, still walking forwards as he asked “are you disappointed I didn't leave?”

“N-no.”

Sakyo chuckled.

“You're not a very good liar, are you?”

You blinked, unable to respond.

What was happening?

Why was he coming towards you?

You found yourself backing up as he walked towards you – a poor decision, as your back quickly hit the wall behind you.

He soon stood right in front of you, and far closer than could ever be deemed acceptable as he was purposefully invading your space. There wasn't any option to create some distance between the two of you, either. With the bed blocking one side, the wall with the bedside table on the other and the way Sakyo was crowding you, you were effectively trapped.

Though if you really wanted to get away from him, there was an option to go over the mattress if you felt that desperate.

But for the moment, you stayed put as you stared at your boss.

“Is something wrong, sir?” you asked.

“Do you think something's wrong?”

Gulping, you glanced over his shoulder at the closed door before you brought your attention back to him.

“You've shut the door and now you're crowding me, sir.”

He blinked.

“I would've thought you'd appreciate the bit of privacy. I'm sure you've wished you had thought to close the door since that first day you took over the tasks in my bedroom.”

You couldn't help the way your eyes widened or the way your pulse began to race. A chorus of swear words rang through your mind while your palms grew sweaty and you stood frozen to the spot.

Lie

Lie about everything

“I don't know what you mean, sir,” you managed to force out.

He smirked.

“Then I'll spell it out for you.”

Sakyo reached out an arm that he placed against the wall, further caging you in as he leaned forward. You felt his hot breath on your ear as he whispered “when you were changing out the bedding, you held my sheets up to your face as you took in my scent. You did that without even closing the door and right as I was returning.”

He leaned back slightly in an attempt to meet your eyes as he asked “do you know what I mean now?”

You didn't answer.

You couldn't answer.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him in the face despite feeling the weight of his expectant gaze on you, instead keeping your attention on the smoothed out sheet that covered the mattress. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you didn't know what to do in this situation that had turned into a worst case scenario. You weren't able to think clearly and the only thing that you felt certain of was your desire to get as far away from this situation as possible.

He then began to bring free hand up to your face, as if he intended to cup your cheek.

You moved.

In an instant you had bolted as you scrambled over the mattress in an effort to run.

Or you tried to.

Because you had barely touched the surface before he grabbed at you.

The next few seconds were a flurry of movement as a brief struggle broke out, one that you ultimately lost. Now your legs hung off the edge of the mattress while you were laid out on top of it, your back being pressed against the soft surface while forced to stay in place by the hands that were now restraining your wrists. The hands that belonged to Sakyo, who was holding you down as he hovered over you, one knee resting on the mattress between your legs, further pinning you down by the skirt of your dress. And no matter how hard you tried to squirm your way out, his hold on you wasn't loosening.

Either he was much stronger than you thought or you were weaker than you realized.

You were left to struggle fruitlessly, breathing hard as you felt the heat grow in your cheeks at the way you had been caught, all the while Sakyo held you there, not saying a word even as you continued your attempt to escape him. Evidently, he was waiting for you to give up, because however many moments later when you finally ceased moving and lay still beneath him, he spoke again.

“Running away is a bit of an overreaction, don't you think?” he asked you, his long hair falling over his shoulder as gravity pulled it down, leaving it to hang by his cheek.

“If you were going to face a punishment, don't you think that would have happened well before now?”

Though you still felt panicked, your brain was somehow able to formulate a response as you asked him “so then what are you doing to me right now?”

“This isn't punishment. This is me expressing my interest in you.”

“… You need to hold people down when you're interested in them?”

“Only the ones that run away. Which, as I said, is an overreaction on your part.”

More strands of his hair fell down over his shoulders when he leaned in closer.

“Especially since you're also interested in me.”

“Th-that… That's not true,” you began, heat filling your cheeks as you forced yourself to admit “I was just curious about your scent. That was all.”

“So you can't smell someone's scent unless it's pressed directly against your face?”

“No, the….. The smaller details of your scent…. I couldn't catch them. That was what bothered me. That was why I did it.”

Admitting it out loud felt so stupid.

Admitting it out loud to Sakyo while he was on top of you felt mortifying.

Which was made worse when Sakyo smirked at you again.

He then released your wrists as he sat up, one knee still on the bed between your legs as he reached up with his hand to loosen his tie, then to undo the buttons at the top of his white shirt.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you asked “what are you doing?”

“Satiating your curiosity,” he answered nonchalantly.

Within a few moments, he had unbuttoned the shirt of his collar and pulled it open, exposing the scent gland that was hidden underneath.

Your eyes widened when you saw him pull his hair out of the way and to the other side of his neck, as what he intended became clear to you. When he reached for you, you again tried to scramble across the mattress, this time by scooting backwards. Again, your attempt fell short, as the knee he had kept on the skirt of your dress prevented you from moving.

“Sir! Wait, I-!”

“Hush.”

Sakyo was on top of you again, bracing one arm on the mattress next to you while his free hand reached out to grab you by the hair at the back of your head. With the strands of your hair firmly locked between his fingers, he pulled you closer while he leaned down further, until he was pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

With the tip of your nose making contact with his bare skin, the individual notes that made up his scent quickly overwhelmed your senses, and they were a hundred times stronger coming directly from him.

Tobacco – as was expected.

Rum.

Vanilla.

Both much clearer than before.

And the last one that you hadn't been able to discern on that day was now identified.

A hint of something metallic.

Blood.

…. It was appropriate for him, for a man who lived in the world that he did. Selling demons, casually tossing aside the lives of those who crossed him – he was a man who was dangerous, who you weren't safe to be around.

And yet…..

When exactly your hands had reached up to grasp at the lapels of his jacket, you hadn't a clue. You simply became aware of that fact around the same time that you realized you were relaxing beneath him, the stress that had been eating at you now ebbing away as you breathed in his scent. And Sakyo noticed, as he had removed the harsh grip on your hair in favor of gently stroking the back of your head.

That felt nice.

Even though you knew it shouldn't.

If you had any sense, you'd be struggling against him still, taking advantage of the fact that he'd released your wrists by pushing him away and then running for the door. You could still get out if you really tried, if you were still as determined to escape him as you had been only moments ago.

…. Had you been trying to run because you really didn't want this, or was it because you were still embarrassed over the fact that Sakyo had caught sight of you acting like a pervert?

If you had any sense, that wouldn't matter; you didn't want to be involved with him in this way, not with a man as dangerous as he was.

Though if you had any sense, you wouldn't have taken this job in the first place.

Sakyo pulled you away from his neck, gently setting your head back down on the mattress. There was a slight flush in his cheeks, you realized. A look you had never seen on his face before, but you found that you liked it. His scent was also heavier, thick and cloying in a way you'd never experienced from him before.

Was he in a rut?

You were distracted from that thought by the way he reached down towards you, this time going for the buttons that held together the high collar of your dress. Just as quickly as he had done with his own, Sakyo had unfastened them and tugged the collar open after. Your neck was now exposed, the only protection your gland had being the rubber latex of the scent blocker.

“Remove it,” he murmured.

You did so without question, though your fingers trembled slightly as you dug the nail of your thumb beneath the edge of the blocker.

An awful thought came to mind: you were both omegas. What if he really did think you were an alpha and this would stop when you revealed your scent to him?

You should've been more alarmed at the way your heart ached at that thought.

With that air of uncertainty surrounding you now, you slowly peeled away the blocker before you pulled it off completely.

Sakyo descended upon you almost immediately, burying his face into the crook of your neck just as he had made you do earlier and breathing in the scent that was now revealed to him.

He groaned.

That noise coming from him was surprising on its own, but even more unexpected was the feeling of his cock against your thigh after he had lowered himself onto you, pressing insistently even through the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. Even though everything had been leading up to what was happening now, it caught you off-guard. You'd never seen your employer in such a state.

Despite the manner in which he carried himself, at the end of the day, Sakyo was just a man.

And there were no signs that he was rejecting you. If anything, the reveal of your scent only seemed to spur him on further as you felt his lips and the edges of his teeth graze against the skin on your neck.

That feeling caused a jolt to run through your body as it ignited a primal reaction within yourself. You realized then just how soaked your underwear had become as your cunt gushed with slickness.

He was affecting you this much?

“S-sir….” you breathed out, your hands having gone back to clench at his jacket. You had no idea why you had spoken, what you wanted to say.

While it had seemed that he was possibly in a trance of lust, Sakyo pulled away only a moment after, his breath hitting your ear again as he asked “what is it?”

“I…… I don't know…..” you admitted.

There was a brief pause of silence.

And then he chuckled.

“Just relax,” he told you, reaching up to caress the side of your cheek as he said “this will be good for both of us.”

Pulling away from your neck fully, he braced himself on the mattress with one arm so he could look down at you again, blue eyes meeting yours while his free hand began to travel down your body. Moving from your cheek down to the exposed area of your neck, his fingers stayed on your skin for as long as they could until they came to the swell of your breasts. They then traveled over your clothing, pressing a bit more insistently as if to make up for the lack of skin on skin contact while his hand continued its descent.

He stopped when he made contact with your thigh, and your breath hitched when you felt him reach down and pull at the skirt of your dress, slowly tugging the fabric up your legs.

A flurry of concerns and questions whirled about in your mind – mostly in regards to what would happen after this, what the other servants would think when they smelled Sakyo's scent coming off of your uniform, and just what you were getting yourself into by allowing this to happen.

Those fears were pushed aside when Sakyo leaned back down and locked his lips with yours, and the scent of nicotine became overwhelming once more as it mixed in with your own. You felt his fingers boldly press against your cunt through your panties, and your moan was muffled by the kiss while you angled your hips to encourage him to touch you more, staining his surprisingly calloused fingers with your juices.

It didn't stay that way for long, because he pulled his lips off of yours just as he pushed your panties to the side in favor of slipping two of his fingers into your folds, an action that caused you to squeal loudly and made you grip at him harder.

Then in a bold move, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you drew him back in, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his scent once more, even daring to place your lips on his scent gland.

He seemed amused.

“Needy thing,” Sakyo whispered while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your soft, clenching walls.

An odd flicker of happiness ran through you when you heard the slightest hint of breathlessness in his voice.

He continued to fuck you with his digits, soon after using his thumb to press against your clit to add to your stimulation. Once again, another squeal of yours echoed in the room while he spread his fingers inside of you, stretching you out while he drove you closer to an impending climax.

You heard his breath in your ear, coming out harsh as his own arousal continued to strain against his pants, still pressing hard against you. Finding that you wanted to see the blush on his face again, you began to pull away.

Sakyo's head dipped back down, his mouth returning to your scent gland.

This time, he bit down.

That was when you reached your peak.

Your walls clamped down on his fingers while you cried out even louder than before and your vision went white. Even when you felt the blood trickling down your neck and some distant part of you recognized what that meant now that he had done that, instinct had you holding him as close as you possibly could.

You were breathing hard when you settled back down, part of you feeling exhausted and slightly horrified at the current situation – this is your boss and he's marked you permanently what the fuck are you doing – but once again, those worries were pushed away by the feeling of Sakyo lapping at the bite mark on your neck, soothing it over even as it stained your open collar and even the sheet on the bed beneath the both of you.

After taking in a deep breath, Sakyo used his free hand to brace himself as he pulled himself up once more. He met your gaze again, and though he was keeping his expression level even now, you were able to catch sight of a hunger within his blue eyes that took in the sight of you splayed out beneath him.

His lips were still red with your blood, you noted.

You moaned when he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive walls, squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation.

“Look at me.”

His softly spoken order was instantly followed, as you snapped your eyes back open, only to find him holding the fingers he had used to fuck you over your lips.

“Clean them,” Sakyo told you simply.

You obeyed, opening your lips while you reached out with one hand to pull his fingers into your mouth, and then you began to lick them clean, tasting your own essence while he watched you, his lips curled up into a satisfied smirk once more.

Not long after, you watched as Sakyo reached down to set free his erection, now fully hard and weeping as he pressed the tip against your slit. He braced himself on top of you while he told you to hold onto him. As with his other orders, you did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his neck while your legs did the same around his waist.

Then he began to fuck you.

He took you in a steady rhythm, moving smoothly through your wet walls as the tip of his cock brushed up against that sensitive spot within you over and over again. Though his pace was nowhere near as punishing and brutal as some alphas would have been, the feel of him sent shivers down your spine nonetheless, leaving you mewling beneath him while you felt your toes curl.

He sounded pleased when he chuckled at you, and once again you felt his lips at your bloody neck.

You mewled again.

The mattress creaked softly as he took you, the clean sheet beneath you now wrinkled and stained with your blood and body fluids.

You can't hide this. The others will know what happened.

But you found that you didn't care. Not right now.

Right now all that mattered was being here in this moment with Sakyo.

Everything else could wait.

Time lost all meaning; you had no idea just how long it had been since this had started, since you had even entered the room. All you knew was that your throat was starting to grow hoarse while your skin grew even more hot.

Sakyo seemed to be the same, his breathing becoming harsh once again while keeping his face buried in your neck.

He faltered for a brief moment, and then his thrusts began to grow harsher, the sound of his skin slapping against your own became more audible. You felt your second climax coming on, your walls beginning to flutter as they prepared to clench down, this time on his cock that you could feel twitching inside of you while he began to approach his own orgasm.

When he did finally cum, he bit down on your scent gland for a second time, and you both heard and felt the muffled the groan that sounded from his mouth as his teeth sank into your flesh and drew fresh blood. All the while his cock spurted long, hot ropes of white seed into you.

That triggered your own orgasm as your pussy clenched down on him, squeezing him tight while your fluids mixed together inside of you, both of your bodies twitching while you felt your climax be prolonged.

It felt good.

Once the two of you came down, there was a sense of stillness after with Sakyo laying on top of you, his weight pressing you down onto the bed while he kept his cock inside of you. You were still trembling from the aftershocks beneath him, still holding him, but more gently now, and you felt compelled to reach up and caress his shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

The familiar sound of his chuckle sounded in your ear.

Whether Sakyo had lost just as much control as you had or this was somehow a calculated move on his end for a scheme you couldn't fathom, you had no clue. You only cared that it felt good for you. Just as he had said it would.

Through it all, the scent of tobacco remained, as if it was now wrapped around you.

Watching you daze in and out of conversation, he thought you were as air-headed as you were beautiful.

You were.... how should he put it?

Asymmetrical.

An unbalanced problem where you could've been perfect, but you lacked the right components to be a coherent equation.

Of course, before welcoming you and your father, Lahan did his research. You were a widowed bride, returned to your family as a burden. Not someone worthy of his attention.

So why was it that his eyes couldn't help but come back to you? You who sat idly, sipping tea from afar. You who smelt like warm sunlight on a breezy day. Like fresh lemons laying await on the branches. You, the daughter of a complete imbecile of man sitting in front of him.

He nearly groans as he snaps back into the bland conversation he was forced to partake in. Seated beside his own father, he would roll his eyes if he wasn't so vigilant of his image.

Your father, master Jiawei, was the head of one of the top clans. He was the man who supposedly revived his fallen clan back into a powerhouse. He was the strategist who managed to rebuild his territory into an economic stronghold.

And, he is the same man dodging every question thrown his way.

"Ah, today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Is this seriously the same guy? Lakan thinks as he feels a vein pop on his forehead.

"That it is, Jiawei-dono!" Lakan responds cheerily, entertaining who Lahan can only describe as a senile old man.

"I would also love to simply stroll around the garden," he drawls on, raising his cup to his lips. "But," a coldness seeps into his voice, "business calls, right?"

A tense pause stretches through the air. Even Lahan can feel the chill of his adoptive father's calculative stare.

"Bahhhh, don't be so stiff, Jiawei-dono. Relax!" Lakan breaks the silence, his carefree demeanour slipping back on as quickly as it fell. "Let's play go after we finish our discussion," he exclaims with a tight-lipped smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Oh no, father's agitated.

Glancing over at Jiawei-dono, he looks taken aback from Lakan's bipolar behaviour. The hand holding his cup of tea shakes slightly, and Lahan can see a bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Jiawei laughs awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Ah yes, of course. We were talking about...uh"

"Opening a trade route between our territories." Lakan finishes for him, the corner of his smile twitching.

Exasperated from the conversation, Lahan unconsciously glances towards the area where you were sitting, only for his eyes to catch yours. You were sitting across the garden, far away from the business talk, underneath a tree with your own tea and snacks. He wonders why you insist on following your father when all you do during these meetings is sit and wait.

You would be better off staying at home, he thinks absentmindedly as he tries to shrug off the weird ache in his chest as your gaze leaves his for the clouds.

"How about we continue this tomorrow?" His father's voice brings him back into the conversation, annoyance now fully seeping out of him.

Smiling in perhaps relief, Jiawei agrees immediately before settling his cup of tea down.

It's not until Jiawei leaves that Lahan lets out a heavy sigh. "What was that?" He huffs.

Running a hand over his face, "god, if I know," Lakan responds. "It's like he's a completely different person from the reports."

Getting up from his spot, Lahan has no doubts his father was going to go laze off somewhere.

"Hey, maybe it'll be better tomorrow," Lakan says with a final dismissive wave.

Yeah, right.

What the hell.

The next day, Jiawei was like a completely different person. His observations were astute, his suggestions were well thought out, and his reasonings sound.

"Yes, your proposal to construct the route here is quite reasonable. However, keeping in mind the geographical terrain and the rising tension between the towns-"

There is no way this is the same idiot as before, Lahan thinks as he wills his jaw to not drop in disbelief.

And yet, the next day and the day after that, Jiawei was acting how Lahan always pictured him to be.

Lahan would've genuinely believed he made up the first interaction if Jiawei didn't slip up every once in a while.

The only moments where Lahan would realize he didn't make things up was when there was a shift in subject. Then, Jiawei would be the same evasive, clueless idiot as before.

"Father, I heard you invited Jiawei-sama to the general's meeting," Lahan says, returning to his father's office after attending to other matters. "Why would you do that?"

Yawning lazily, Lakan responds, "eh, it could be interesting." His father toys with the edge of his paper. "Who knows if the genius will attend or the bumbling bee."

Eyes narrowing, Lahan was trying to understand his father's game. What was he trying to get at? What was his objective?

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud voice. "Sir, permission to enter?" It calls out from behind the doors.

"Yes, enter," Lakan's authoritative voice rings out in response.

A guard enters the room, bowing in respect to the two clan members. "I am here to report the same findings as the previous nights."

Giving his father a questioning look, Lakan ignores him and gets up from where he's slouched. "I see. Let's pay them a visit, shall we?"

Nodding his head, the guard led them out. Following his father, Lahan soon realizes the direction they were heading in. "Father, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well," Lakan began with mischief shimmering in his eyes, "I had our little friend here keep an eye on our guests. And turns out, they've been having nightly tea parties without us."

Nightly? Lakan raises his eyebrows, "has Jiawei-sama been meeting with someone every night? Is it with an informant?"

Him having help every night would explain how he would become so learned. But that would also mean that he was exposing confidential information to an outsider...

Lost in thought at the various implications of the nightly rendezvous, they reach their destination before he even knew it.

"No, no," Lakan chuckles, "it's someone far more impressive."

Opening the door into the guest's chambers, Lakan's guard announces their presence.

"Ah, Jiawei-dono and Lady y/n. What a lovely night for tea."

Sitting across each other at the table, both seem to freeze at their hosts' sudden arrival. Although, Lahan couldn't tell who was more caught off guard. Them, or him at seeing that you were the secret guest in question.

"Oh my, good evening, Lakan-dono and Lahan. What brings you two here so late at night?" Jiawei begins, setting down his cup.

"Ah, I apologize," Lakan says. "I had just come by hoping to play go with you. I had no idea that I would be intruding on your tea time with your daughter."

"Ah, please, no worries. You are not intruding at all," you say with a quaint smile. "If you wish to speak with my father, I can leave." You begin getting up but not before Lakan waves at you to stay where you are.

"No, no, please! I wouldn't want you to leave just because of us!"

"Ah," you begin, hand covering your mouth in a chaste manner, "if you'll have me, then I'd love to stay," you respond, sitting back down.

"Yes, yes, it's not every night that a father can bond with his children," Lakan says slyly. "Although you two seem to be especially close."

Lahan's eyes focus on the way Jiawei's grip around his cup falters slightly before tightening. "You can say that, but my daughter has only come to drink tea and bid me a good night." Jiawei laughs lightly, "it's nothing exceptional, truly."

"Oh, but I see she also brought you some paper!"

At that, Lahan notices the stack of paper on the table beside their tea set. Papers that are not provided by the La estate.

Lakan continues in a jovial manner. "To go out of her way for her pops when servants could easily deliver the paper," his observant eyes turn to Jiawei, "that is truly one devoted daughter."

Jiawei chuckles nervously. "Thank you for the compliments. But, really, she does so only because she's already on the way."

Although you appear to be zoning out of the conversation, Lahan can tell Jiawei was bristling. There was definitely something suspicious happening.

How interesting.

The first page of the stack is blank, but there might be text hidden in the rest of the papers.

Deciding to make his move, Lahan decides to take a play from his father's books.

Rushing closer to the table, "father, please! We've interrupted them long enough! Let's bid them farewell and be on our way," Lahan pleas, getting in between his father and the table.

It would be a simple mistake. A hurried and reckless swing of an arm sending the tea onto the paper. He would apologize and say how they're ruined, but, of course, he will send for new ones. New ones that wouldn't have been tampered with.

If ruining the papers results in Jiawei bumbling in the next meeting, then that confirms the connection. If it doesn't change anything, then that can rest the theory that you play some sort of role in this.

But as Lahan feels his hand graze the cup, tipping it backward, he never feels it fall.

"Oh dear, do be careful, Lahan-sama," a deceptively gentle voice intercedes.

He turns towards the voice, but his hands feel yours first. He feels how soft they are as they touch his. He thinks about how contrasting it is that these soft hands are also the ones firmly rooting him, the cup, and his plan in place.

However, when his eyes finally look towards you, he thinks nothing could beat the sight before him. You, sitting there with your full attention on him for the first time. Your cunning eyes peer into his soul as if hungrily searching for something. A look so hypnotizing it raises the hair on the back of his neck.

What was it that you were so desperately grasping for? Were you calculating his value? Sizing him up? Looking for what he can do for you? It was like you could see right through him and all his motives.

But in less than a second, those sharp calculating eyes blink back into a clueless look.

You dawn a mask of stupor again as you mutter some excuse that falls on his deaf ears.

In an instant, a flood of possibilities races through his mind. The small fall of your façade has entered so many new possibilities in his calculations.

But more than that, you, in that split instance, were absolutely perfect. The epitome of beauty. The most mathematically ideal.

He wonders if he can see that captivating look again.

He wonders how he'll get to see it again.

The meek smile gracing your features now brings doubts into his mind. "Well, it is getting late. I should retire to my chambers." You say getting up, taking the stacks of paper with you. "I will put these on your desk, father."

Wait.

Not yet. Don't go.

Not until he can wrap his head about what just happened.

Yet, before he could even think of an idea to prolong the interaction, you seemingly trip on thin air, papers flying onto the floor.

Rushing out an apology, you go to pick up all the papers. Lahan crouches down as well, remembering his mission to look at the papers. Taking the chance to look closely in the guise of helping you, he picks up the papers.

They were all blank.

Every page, every side, every corner.

Nothing is adding up, Lahan thinks to himself. This goes against his entire theory. He takes a chance and looks up to read your expression.

Your eyes stay on the papers, collecting them. You appear embarassed, anxious even, at causing the scene.

Was that really a mistake? As he goes to look away before he's found staring, he could've sworn he caught a twinkle of triumph in those eyes and a growing smirk.

Well, that was a bust, Lahan almost says outloud as he and his father make it back to his office.

"Now don't look so disgruntled," Lakan's voice rings out. "We got what we needed."

"What do you mean, father?"

"Well, we got the fox to come out of hiding, didn't we?" He said with a devious grin, eyes dark yet satisfied.

"But that doesn't explain how that bumbling idiot manages to find his words after the meetings."

The guard had confirmed that your tea time with your father were always silent, save for the occasional small talk. So there is no way you could've known what was spoken in the meetings—let alone coach your father on how to speak in them.

"Lahan," his father says with a voice that makes his posture straighten. "What do we know now?"

"We know that the papers are blank?"

"And?"

"And that they were still important enough for Lady y/n to protect it?"

Lakan drawls out a tired sigh as he rolls his eyes at his adoptive son.

"What was the quality of the paper?"

Lahan closes his mouth. He places his hand under his chin and he ponders. The paper did look of high quality, seemingly thicker than normal, and thus more expensive. Why did they pay to use such expensive paper? Especially when paper is becoming much more expensive...

Ah.

"A heavy weight paper, more resistant to tears and more able to withstand liquids and ink without tearing or warping." Lahan thinks out loud.

"Paper that is always delivered by Lady y/n. Even if it is someone else who delivers the papers, it comes from Lady y/n's chamber. Lady y/n who smells of citrus and lemons..."

And at that moment, he remembers what his brat of his sister was muttering about. Something about invisible ink and a source of heat.

If only he could get his hands on those papers again....

"Now, don't get too ahead of yourself," his dad interrupts his thoughts with a stern look. "Everything so far is only conjecture. To make any conclusion of this nature is to accuse Jiawei-dono of depending on his daughter." Lakan continues raising his glass to his lips. "It would be dishonouring and discreditting his intellect and work up until now."

Looking at his father, Lahan decides to finally ask the question that's been plaguing his mind. "Why did you invite them, father?" Few, if not any, families were invited to the La estate. There was no way his father invited them to discuss something as menial as trade routes.

"No reason!" Lakan says in his annoying 'I'm hiding something' tone.

Huh.

Lahan guesses he'll have to find the answers himself.

*Your POV*

Planning to fortify the borders in the North, huh?

You raise your cup of tea to your lips, blowing lightly at the surface. Like the previous days, you're sitting at the table underneath the plum tree. Despite the servants' pleas for you to go explore the estate or enjoy the other views, you always decline saying that you loved this spot the most.

But that couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, this was the best vantage point to observe the meetings. Sitting out of ear shot under the pavilion is your father, Lakan, and other notable clan members.

The meeting location is truly the most strategic. It is visible enough to quell any suspicions of secrecy or corruption and yet private enough that no one would be able to listen in without being seen.

But, you didn't need to listen to know what's going on. No, you only needed to see.

You picked up the habit of reading lips from a young age. You grew up in a tense environment filled with political unrest and turmoil. A house full of hushed whispers, double meanings, and concealed conspiracies.

It was in that house that your mother went insane. She was a victim of your clan's schemes. Being ousted as a social piranha, she desperately tried to prove herself but was never able to grasp the realities of the situation.

It horrified you. The lengths your mother would go to just to survive in this household. And when she died, you thought it might've been for the best. From that day on, you vowed that you would never end up like her.

So when they would conspire to each other in the dark of the night behind closed doors, you'd press your ear against the wall and listen. When they'd whisper under their breath, you'd watch from afar, piecing together their words like a puzzle.

Watching. Waiting. You lived like a ghost. Slipping through the seams and living as under the radar as possible. You needed to know who to avoid, and who to suck up to. Who to trust and who to keep at arms length. Because of this, you became highly observant.

You also made sure to weaponize yourself as much as possible. From reading books on business strategies to learning noble etiquette to even learning the language of fans, you desperately grasped at ways to protect yourself.

And maybe that's why, somewhere along the line, you donned a mask. A mask of oblivion and stupor all in the name of security. Maybe you did it so that if anyone caught you overhearing or watching, they'd dismiss you as nothing more than a naive fool. You can't exactly pin when you started to play a role, but it's been so long that sometimes, you don't even remember who you really are anymore.

But does that really matter?

You would always play with that question in the back of your mind.

Your father's movement catches your eye. You see his body shake from laughter as he talks to Lakan.

Although your father wasn't the brightest, he had a kind heart. He was your best shot to a happy, secure life. And because of that, you had to make sure he was untouchable. So you cleansed your clan of all the parasites that threatened your father's position. You implemented Western agricultural techniques to rejuvenate your territories. And, you even got married to bring honour to your family's name. To be the perfect man, leader, and father, he needed to have the perfect daughter. For you, that meant fulfilling the role society believes you should fulfill.

But unlike most elite daughters, you had full control over who you got to marry. With your observant eyes, you chose the one who hid his sickness under layers of powder. You played it coy, wailing about needing to fall in love before getting married. So you spread out your meetings over the course of months. Then your engagement dragged on for over half a year. And by the time you had finally wed, he was nothing more than an empty husk, a pliant doll.

Dying without an heir, you were returned to your family without question. And knowing how nobles thought, you knew no one would be willing to re-marry you lest they wanted a soiled bride or bride who brought bad fortune. As such, you continued to live in your clan without any suspicions. You were seen as a pious but unfortunate girl. The type of girl that will never be able to leave her home.

It was perfect.

Yet, there was a bump in the road. And that bump was none other than the La clan.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off when Lakan-sama and Lahan interupted your time with your father. You knew there were eyes and ears everywhere in the estate but to think they'd make a move themselves. Hopefully you steered them away from thinking too deeply about your involvement by showing them the contents of the paper.

You made sure to research the La clan before accepting their invitation. You knew that they were a skulk of cunning foxes that you had to be cautious around.

The one you're most worried about, however, is Lahan. He was the one who exposed his own father to place his adoptive father as the head of the clan. In a way, he was very much the same as you. Except he lived in the limelight. He took his rightful credit and stood proudly beside Lakan as his right hand man.

Your brief moment with Lahan confirmed to you how dangerous he was. Remembering the way he looked at you made your face feel warm. It was a mix of awe, curiosity and something else you couldn't quite pin.

You wonder if he saw it. Saw you. The real you.

But there's no way. You might've slipped up for a second, but that's all that was. There's no way he could've unraveled everything with only one glance. The fact that he didn't seem to question your excuse means that he probably didn't put too much weight onto your actions.

You rub your temple to try to soothe all the thoughts running rampant through your head.

Now is not the time. You look towards your father again, and he appears to be struggling judging by his stiff posture.

I'll have to include a page about the militia in the north-

"Why, hello there, Lady y/n."

Had you not grown up so focused on controlling your features, you would've jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice in your ear.

Turning your head away from the meeting, you almost come nose to nose with Lahan. He's standing beside you, bent down to speak to you with his arms behind his back. His presence envelops all your senses as he towers over you.

His eyes ever fox-like gleam mischievously as he straightens back up. "Ah, apologies. I called out to you, but you didn't seem to hear me." He says with a slanted smile. "Are you that engrossed in the meeting?"

Setting your cup down, you try to regain your composure. "Ah, not really. My head must've been in the clouds," you respond with a polite smile. He turns to the direction you had been looking at, almost as if to try to see what you were seeing.

"Are you not joining them today, Lahan-sama?" You ask attempting to block his train of thought.

He shakes his head. "No, I have other plans today." He gazes towards your tea set.

You wait patiently to see what he'll do next but he doesn't do or say anything. He doesn't even give any indication that he wants to leave. He's just waiting.

Does this basta- guy want me to invite him? Didn't he just say he had plans?

Holding in a sigh, you raise your hand to indicate to the seat across from you.

"Well, if you're in no rush, you may join me if it please you."

He shines a small smile. "Gladly."

Although you had pointed to the chair across the table, he decides to sit in the chair closest to you. So close that if he wants to, his knees could touch yours.

You're taken aback by his forward nature. Nothing in the report said anything about him being a womanizer. The report said that he usually likes to watch his prey squirm before he goes to attack, but you haven't done anything yet?

"So," he continues, resting his chin on his hand with his elbow propped onto the table. "Is this how you like to spend your day?"

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly before becoming doe-like again. "Ah, well, I like to stroll in the garden as well. The La estate is very beautiful."

"I see," he says pensively. "A walk in the garden would be nice."

"But you choose to sit here," he continues, keen eyes watching your reaction. "I can show you many other places that may suit your taste, Lady y/n."

You let out a soft giggle. "Ah, thank you but I'm good here."

"Is it because of your father?" His questioning eyes narrow slightly.

You place both your hands in your lap, clasping them softly together. "I like to see him work."

"Right," Lahan responds quietly, his focus training on the men at the table again. "Seeing. That's all you can really do from this distance, isn't it?" He asks almost rhetorically.

"How about a change of scenery?" He continues as if snapping out of his thoughts.

"To where?"

He turns his full focus to you, his relaxed demeanour turning into something more playful. "My office for a game of go, Perhaps?" He says with his canines flashing.

This...could be dangerous.

You try to reject him. "Sorry, Lahan-sama. I don't know how to play."

"I'm sure you'll learn fast," he returns quickly, already extending his hand out towards you in invitation. It's a presumptuous act. One that radiates with confidence that you won't reject him.

And he'd be right. Because you can't.

You know this is a trap. A clever trap that forces you to become a pawn in his game.

You don't know what he knows about you, but based on the fact he decided to approach you right after the tea incident—this invitation is definitely not innocent. No, you know it's not based on the fact that prior to the incident, he never made any moves to interact with you.

This man is not the sporadic, live in the moment type. No, his actions are always imbued with meaning.

Reject him or accept him, he'll mostly likely gain two insights.

Rejecting him confirms that you're tied to this location. You, the air-headed girl, pitifully waiting for her father, have no reason to deny his invitation. If not for the fact that you are seemingly doing nothing at the moment, social conventions would also force you to accept. After all, he is your host—one courteous enough to house you and your father—so you had the social expectations to repay him with a simple game.

You also couldn't use the excuse of the implications of being alone with him. You were a widowed woman. No one cares about your chastity anymore.

So to reject him based on these facts would raise serious flags.

Accepting him would be less dangerous if you play your cards right. Lahan is most likely trying to remove you from the equation to see if your disappearance impacts your father's behaviour in the next meeting. But unlucky for him, you already have a good understanding of the content of the meeting. Even if you aren't able to guide your father on every issue, his incomprehension can be blamed on being burnt out from the long meeting.

Plus, you can simply lose in go. The game itself won't be able to reveal anything about you if you lose on purpose.

Deciding to entertain his plans, you gracefully place your hand on top of his and he helps you stand up from where you're seated. Keeping one hand on his arm, he guides you through the courtyard back into the corridors.

Once inside his office, you see the go board already set up.

This cunning fox, the corner of your mouth almost lifts up at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Ah, my father and I always play so we like to keep it set up," he explains sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Liar.

You can see the warmth of the tea fog the table beside the go board. He had to have prepared this before coming to see you. You said you had other plans, you wanted to accuse but kept it to yourself.

Fine, you'll entertain him.

You allow him to guide you to your seat. "Thank you for inviting me into your office. It is as meticulous as the rumours say."

Looking around the room, it really is hard to believe that this room is used as an office. Shelves with books perfectly aligned, abacus placed perfectly spaced away from the papers and brushes on the table. It looks too tidy to actually be used.

He fills both of your cups with tea. He's treating you with much more reverence than needed. Usually, it should be you, the guest, the woman, to pour the tea. And yet he's been nothing but gentlemanly to you.

Buttering me up, huh? You use your hand to block the smile that threatens to spill on your lips. Too bad for him, your tongue won't loosen that easily.

"I hope it's to your liking," Lahan says as he takes a sip from his own cup.

To your surprise, it is. It's your favourite type of tea. The one you drink to relieve the stress from reviewing all the paper work for your father. Did he know or was it a mere coincidence?

"Yes, it is, thank you."

He offers a satisfied smile before going into the rules. If you didn't know any better, it would appear as if he was setting you up for failure. When he said he'd keep his explanation brief, you didn't think he'd just skim over everything completely. Even a child could explain this better, you think as you watch him place the pieces down on the board as examples.

"Well, it's something you'll learn as you go," he says, placing the pieces back at your respective sides.

You experimentally pick up a stone to examine it. "I-I see, I hope I won't bore you too much with my playing."

"No, I don't think you'll bore me at all," he replies with his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the table, staring intently at you.

You take the time to absorb him fully for the first time. Handsome is the first word that pops into your head. But willing that thought away, your second thought was that when he's sitting like that, he really does resemble a sly fox. His eyes have a scheming look to them. They seem to catch in the light in a way that makes them look like they're glowing.

He places the first stone onto the board. "How about we make things interesting?"

You raise a brow. "Interesting?"

"Yes," he eyes the piece you place down. "If you win, I'll grant you any wish you'd like."

Looking at him cautiously, you ask "and if you win?"

"Well, of course you'll do the same for me," he responds as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You couldn't say you weren't intrigued. What did Lahan wish for that only you could give him? Though, no matter how curious you were, you couldn't let things go too far.

Watching him tactfully place his stone, you don't lift your eyes off the board. "But I have no wish to ask for. Also it would be unfair, wouldn't it?" You say, puffing your cheeks as you pretend to deliberate hard on your next move.

Lahan lets out a low chuckle. "I'll go easy on you." He picks up a stone from his pile. "And the wish can be anything you want. Like a certain dish for dinner or a tea set. It doesn't have to be grand."

You watch as he absentmindedly twirls the stone between his fingers, showing off his comfort with the pieces, the game, and this situation.

He continues, "this can be the practice match." His amused eyes are crescent-like when they meet yours. "We'll play the real match after."

Despite every fiber of your being telling you this is a bad idea—that you should high tail it and leave before it is too late—a more reckless part of you is saying that it's too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You could wish for you and your father to go home. It would be a wish coming from a home sick girl who misses spending time with your father. You can accidentally win, or play in a way that ends in a tie. Staying here any longer would risk unraveling all your work until now.

You can even ask him to forget playing go with you if need be. To forget about you.

Although that thought makes your heart clench for some reason.

Losing would also fit in your character. The only problem now is that it presents an incalculable risk—an unforeseeable consequence. He could ask for something as unimportant as your household records or something more pernicious...

In the end, you let your intuition guide you.

"Well, if you go easy on me," you agree with a smile.

The smile on his face softens into something more genuine. You can't take your eyes off the gentleness of his expression.

"Of course, my lady."

You two continue taking turns placing your stones. You would purposefully place it in spots where he would have to correct you. You even try to move a stone that is already placed on the grid. And it continued like that for a while. Perhaps this will make him pity you and reconsider his bet, you think hopefully.

"Say are you interested in medicine by any chance?" His voice spears through the peaceful silence.

"Well, not particularly, no," you respond.

He shifts his eyes to yours. "Well, I learnt something really interesting recently, care to learn?"

No, not really. "Oh, do please share!"

"You know how alcohol is used to sanitize items?"

Where's he going with this? You nod along slowly.

"Well, alcohol has a lot of different functions based on how it's distilled. It can be something that can get you drunk. Something that can clean your wounds. And something that can be used to write."

Your cup halts before it could reach your lips. Did he know? How?

Gaze flickering to your hand before going back to your face, he continues. "Yes, if you write using alcohol on paper, you won't see anything under the naked eye. But place it against a flame, the paper will burn at a different heat level, and you'll be able to see the hidden words." He leans slightly closer to you. "Isn't that fascinating?"

You keep your cool. "Wow, that's so amazing! You think I can write something with my father's sake?"

Play dumb. Play dumb. Play dumb.

He moves to capture your stones. "Maybe! Who knows, I have never tested it out myself." He responds. "Maybe there are other things that can make invisible texts as well"

He knows. No doubt.

"Maybe."

You play in silence for a while. Neither of you fully taking the slow game seriously. He places the stones in winning spots, and you would mostly defend and misplace stones in worse spots.

Without glancing up from the board, Lahan hums to himself.

Your eyes flicker up to him, but he seems to be too deep in thought to notice.

"Is something on your mind, Lahan-sama?" You ask as you sip your drink.

Lahan glances up at you as he fiddles with the stone in hand. "I was just thinking about making you my wife."

You spit out your tea and cough as your throat burns from swallowing it incorrectly. Eyes almost popping out of your head, you look incredulously at the fox like man in front of you.

He dons a bemused borderline annoying expression as a crooked smile grows on his face. He looks like he's reveling in your reaction.

"Just kidding," he practically beams. "I'd like to see you a couple more times before that."

This man must be insane you think to yourself.

Is that what he'll ask for if he wins? That thought alone drives you to unconsciously place your stone in a strategic position.

"Ooh, excellent move, Lady y/n," he says excitedly as he moves to capture some pieces. "And here I was thinking you were going to fool around for a while longer."

Huh?

Did he just trick you? Is that not actually his wish?

That must be it. It must be a lie he made up to force you to take the game seriously. But if he really did that for this reason, then you've dug yourself into a hole.

"Was that a good spot?" You say trying to salvage what you could. "I just placed it down randomly."

"Oh? The same way how you'd randomly avoid strategic spots?" He says with a smirk. " You know, first time go players act more recklessly than you do."

You feel your face reddening at his assertion. You swear you were being a mix of reckless and meek. It shouldn't have raised any suspicions.

Oh.

Now that you think about it, his explanations of the game focused only on reckless and aggressive tactics.

"I wonder if anyone will object if I were to propose," he says, interrupting the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Do you think I'll seriously marry you over a game of go?" You scoff before you could control yourself.

"No, but do you think I won't seriously try to if I win?"

"You..."

You're completely scandalized, and no doubt it shows on your face. Somehow, in a manner of a couple of minutes, he's gotten under your skin in a way no one else could. You couldn't tell if it was because of his brazenness or the way he seems so pleased with himself that you just want to knock him off his high horse.

That conniving bastard.

It's too late to turn the tides now in this game. Even if you use the most efficient moves, you've dug yourself too deep of a hole.

As if knowing what you're thinking, Lahan laughs. "Don't worry, this is only the practice match, remember?" He says placing down his stone. You didn't need to fill out the rest of the board to know the ending. With new heat in your veins, your determined eyes lock onto his.

"Then shall we start a new game?"

This game is a lot slower and more meticulous. For the first time ever, you're being driven into a corner. Both with his promise and the game. In order to beat him, you knew you had to genuinely try. You couldn't afford to play it dumb or else his threat of his wish will ruin your plans of living peacefully. Whether you win or lose, it's a lose-lose situation. Either you expose yourself and ruin your plans for your future or ruin your plans for your future.

His stupid bet you accepted on a whim will change everything.

And yet deep down, it excites you. This feeling of being driven to the edge, forced to take action. To be intellectually challenged.

Looking up into his eyes that seem to peer into your soul, the heat behind them stirs something in you. Your once frozen heart quickly beats in your chest. Even you can admit that he intrigues you like none other.

If you're going down, you're going to go down in a fiery blaze. You will not lose this game. And perhaps, he knows this because he plays as if he also has something to lose. Taking his sweet time to deliberate his moves, your game lasts for so long the sun sets.

In the end, you lose by only two measly points. It was a close match and if you could do it again, you know that'll you'll win next time.

Even so, there's a kind of satisfaction that seeps into your bones. One that makes you crave another match with him. Another conversation. Another anything.

Letting out a long sigh in defeat, your words feel heavy yet exciting on your tongue. "So...are you actually going to make me marry you?"

"Hmm? Oh, that?" He says so casually as if that singular idea didn't turn your whole world upside down. "I was just thinking about it. I haven't decided on my wish yet," he says with a boyish grin.

-

Lord Basilius kept his spawn on a tight leash, and had never once doubted that sparing the rod would spoil the child. 

“You will try again. Do not return, if it is as a failure,” he drawled, clawed hands swiping gently along your scalp. You shuddered instinctively, as though it were bugs trailing down your spine instead of his cold, grey limbs. His unconcerned demeanour fooled no one: the vampires in front of him shook where they stood, eyes unfocused. 

They refused to look at him, and you understood why. His piercing red gaze made you feel how truly worthless you really were. Lord Basilius preferred the lack of eye contact, anyway. 

The vampires stared at their lord’s wooden desk: letters to aristocrats and contracts with locals organized in neat piles. An ink and quill and a half-empty wine glass to the right. Candied green grapes in an ornate bowl on the left; your master kept your treats close by when he held you. 

Duran’s hands curled ever so slightly, barely avoiding piercing his taupe skin. His sire had little patience for protest, even silent ones. The vampiric transformation had left the scent of his blood foul to his kin, and Basilius would no doubt be further angered by even the smell of pinpricks. 

Still, the vampire could barely contain himself: Duran was not a child. He hadn’t been for years before his sire had turned him, stealing away his former life. 

His sister fared better. Elia had been here longer, after all. Lord Basilius allowed them to go on missions together. Whether kindness or salt in the wound, you did not know. 

“Yes, my lord,” she spoke quietly from beside him. Her dark brown hair curled around her cheeks and hid her face: she’d confessed to you once how thankful she was that it was long when she was turned.

Elia had never been hostile to you, not like the others. Cold, maybe, but that was more her apathy than anything. You suspected she’d given up long before your arrival, broken by Basilius’ greatest punishment. 

Duran had told you that she wasn’t always like this. His memories of before he was taken were few and far between, but he remembered his sister. You thought you still saw shards of the woman he described when you held Elia: sometimes she seemed to come back to herself, even briefly, when you stroked her cheek.  

You winced as Lord Basilius’ grip tightened around you as you squirmed on his lap. The action commanded you to stop. He liked it when you sat with him while he worked, warming his lap. 

Did he miss the comfort of hot flesh, now that he was forever cold to the touch? 

The vampire had shown restraint, thus far. You couldn’t help but wonder when he might, just for a moment, forget himself and allow his instincts to take over, cracking your bones rather than cradling your cheek. 

The carpets were a swirling red velvet for a reason, spilling onto black marble. Lord Basilius was not so gaudy as to have a real throne, but his office invoked a similar sentiment regardless. It mattered not that he sat and they stood: they always trembled anyway. 

Lord Basilius waved them away without even looking up, too busy stroking your neck, admiring the damage he’d done this morning. Beautiful blooms of deep red and purple tarnishing your skin, painting a picture of his bloodlust. 

His black coat brushes against your back, the fur deceptively soft and comforting. Your eyes flickered to his spawn, drawn to the cheap cotton he provides them. Another way of demeaning them, you suppose; dressing them in rags while his vaults overflow with coin. 

The siblings nodded wordlessly before fleeing to their chambers. You tried to catch Duran’s eyes on the way out, wanting to calm him down, but he only winced when he saw you in Basilius’ grip, eyes flaring with a newfound disgust. You didn’t bother looking at Elia: she preferred to ignore your presence where her lord was concerned. You only wished her brother could deal with things similarly, lest his wrath get the best of him someday. 

The thought of what kind of punishment he would face made your heart clench. You were sure Lord Basilius would enjoy thinking of something truly horrid for his spawn. Perhaps leaving him chained and starving for weeks in the dungeons again, or testing the limits of a lesser vampire’s immortality with some of his favourite toys. 

You hoped to see them off before they leave, but Lord Basilius seemed to have other plans for you. You shivered when the vampire leaned down far enough for his light hair to tickle your cheek. Your master contented himself to ignore your signs of hesitation, inhaling deeply into your neck. 

If he considered you anything more than a pet, he might have been offended by your rejection. Instead, he found it endearing how you instinctively drew away from him, cooing at you how he might a cat for shying away from his touch. As though he were not a predator, and you not his prey. 

He brushed his hand against your bare skin, his thumb catching on the strap of your black nightgown and letting it fall down your shoulder, exposing more of the dark bruising. He liked keeping you in silks or lace, and he liked taking it off of you even more. 

You craved his touch, to your dismay. Only his warmth, you told yourself. The vampires run cold, so they have no need to concern themselves with keeping the castle warm.

Lord Basilius’ hands never wandered beyond what interested him. Perhaps your human nature was off-putting enough that the thought never crossed his mind. He was a full vampire, devoid of any humanity he may have once had. Maybe having relations with a human seemed degrading to him, or maybe he simply wasn’t attracted to you. 

The thought bothered you more than it should. You should be thankful he doesn’t desire your flesh, and yet, you can’t pretend the thought hasn’t crossed your mind. 

Was he capable of desire? 

The lesser vampires certainly were, but Basilius was different. He lusted for your blood, not your body. You weren’t even sure that he cared for your blood in some special way; perhaps it was a matter of convenience, rather than preference. 

That was the way he had gotten you, after all. When your parents had offered you to him, he had sampled your blood, and decided to allow their debt to be forgiven. It had happened so quickly, he must have chosen on a whim.

Perhaps he had been in a good mood that day. Seleucus had been the only one there when you arrived, and he hardly ever let his lord down. 

Would he tire of you someday? 

When your blood wasn’t as novel or sweet as it once was? 

His spawn might give him grief, but they were as powerless as you to stop it, should he desire to rid himself of you. 

You supposed you were lucky, in some ways. Lord Basilius had generously allowed you to keep your humanity, a fate not shared by his spawn. You weren’t exactly sure what about you amused him so much, but he was content to treat you like a cherished pet, one that just happened to be both friend and food. 

If he wasn’t so unconcerned with the feelings of his spawn, you might have been tempted to wonder if it was all a game to rile them up with such envy that they would be driven to kill you out of their own will and not his command, to finally embrace the natures he had bestowed upon them all those years ago. 

But the truth was, the thought would hardly cross his mind. You were a pet, a cute thing made to be doted on and nothing more. They were vampires: not quite his equals, but something close. He wanted more for them, almost like a real father. Only his ‘more,’ seemed to involve his own ambitions, rather than anything else. 

Still, that did not stop their indignation. It was hard to blame Duran for his glares or Seleucus for his biting words. Not when the same hands which carefully stroked your hair were so eager to strike them across the cheek for failing a difficult mission. Perhaps you would have been more upset were their hands not stayed by the threat of their lord’s retaliation. 

Lord Basilius’ tongue dragged across your exposed shoulder, over the marks he had left earlier. You withheld a shudder at the feeling, his hot breath a warning to brace yourself. 

But just as the vampire doled out harsh punishments, he was not so despotic as to not reward his spawn. 

A pet was a thing to be treasured, and he was content to place you into the arms of his ‘children,’ despite the fact that they were woefully unprepared to care for one. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t,” he mused, as though speaking of denying himself a most delectable dessert. “Ren returned yesterday with the Florent artifact, and he did request your company as his prize. Helena should return shortly as well, although it remains to be seen whether her performance is adequate.” 

Lord Basilius suddenly gripped your face, his clawed fingers digging in but not quite piercing the skin. A warning. 

“You will be good for him, won’t you?” he said, eyes peering into your own. His gaze was unblinking and empty, staring at you like one might look at a brewing potion. Waiting to see if you need to be discarded. 

You nodded. You might’ve thought about objecting, back when you first arrived. When you still mistook his gaze for something capable of caring. You’d learned better now. 

Humans were meant to be seen, not heard. Be good, and he might not get rid of you. 

Where else would you go, after all? 

Your parents had abandoned you. No, worse, they had sold you off to pay for their own mistakes. Lord Basilius was all you had, in a way. Him and his spawn had become your new home. The only place that would have you. 

You had grown attached to Elia’s comfort, Duran’s passion, and Ren’s sweetness. Even Seleucus and Helena had their charms, despite their disagreeableness. 

You could admit, you longed for even the touch of your master, sometimes. Loneliness was a curse that had infested your heart, and even the most unusual source of solace seemed to help. 

You had to be good. Not more trouble than you were worth. Smile when he asks. Throw your arms around him and thank him for treating you so well. Entice him with your neck or wrist, your scent. 

His lip twitched at your obedience, and he dropped a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl.” As he released your face, Basilius’ claw grazed past your neck. You gasped suddenly at the sharp pain. 

The three in front of you wore no more than training armor and pelt. You were envious of their enhanced thermo-regulation as you flexed your fingers to stave off the chill that had seeped through your thick mittens.

“Here,” the venerable veteran, Ægir, announced, stabbing his chainsword into the ice.

You slowed as you caught up to the group and looked about. You were the only thing besides flat ice for several kilometers in any direction.

“Finally!”

The youngest, Asmundr, was not known to keep his opinions to himself at the best of times. He was brash and stubborn in every aspect of his life. He was the one that insisted you join them on this venture.

The company and ship’s crew were trapped on Silġ until the warp storm passed. You had already been stuck more than several weeks and many of the younger warriors were antsy for activity beyond their regular training. And, while rations were not depleted, it did no harm to secure supplementary provisions while they were available. Ergo, the Wolf Lord had allowed the formation of a few small hunting parties.

While you assisted the entire pack as your services were needed, Asmundr had all but named you as his personal serf. Not that he had asked anyone in particular, nor would he ever be granted a personal serf given his rank and status if he had. He was simply dogged in requesting your time, specifically. Not that you minded spending so much time with him; he had grown on you quite a bit, and you enjoyed the stories he would regale you with as you cared for his armor.

And so, here you were. Accompanying the small expedition on their fishing trip. You had given up on getting an explanation for exactly what you were meant to do beyond ferry equipment or attend to whatever unfavorable task may arise. Frankly, it was simply a nice change of pace from the monotony of the last few weeks, nice to be away from the stagnant air of the ship, and you were thankful to have been allowed to attend.

Hodr swiped his boot along the ground to disturb the thick layers of snow and reveal the solid ice beneath. Though not as old as Ægir, the scars upon his face told a story of numerous battles fought with unfettered ferocity. He was cold, stoic, but on occasion you glimpsed something wild lurking deep within his eye.

After stomping solidly on the ice without so much as a crack, Hodr gave a nod to Ægir, who activated his chainsword.

Still stuck in the ice, the blade began throwing up shards of ice and compact snow. You turned slightly and covered your face with a mitten to prevent anything from lodging in your eyes. You felt the pitter patter of debris against your form suddenly disappear. Looking up, it seemed Asmundr unthinkingly shifted his position to effectively shield you from the onslaught.

“Mortal,” Hodr called, as the roar of the sword died down. “Bring the pick and shovel.”

You pulled the tools from the sled and made your way to the hole-in-progress. In order to support the weight of three space marines (and especially the earlier stomping), the ice was undoubtedly thick. This pass with the chainsword had not even been close to reaching the water below. Hodr reached down to grapple with the large slab of ice that had been cut away while you worked on extricating the smaller shards. Once the site was cleared, Asmundr gently pulled you a step back as Ægir began his next series of cuts. This process repeated three times before a sufficient opening was formed.

Standing, you wiped the snow off of your knees and pushed the ice shards nearest the opening away with your boot. Suddenly, you felt something thick and heavy land across your back and weigh down on your shoulders. You were almost embarrassed about the surprised yelp you let out, but it was worth it to hear the youngest of the wolves let out a full bellied laugh.

“I trust you to keep this warm for me, vennen min!” Asmundr’s voice bounced with mirth behind you. You rearranged the large pelt he had thrown on you as you turned to face him. And quickly decided to look anywhere else as he undressed to the fullest extent possible.

“O-Of course, my lord.” You elected to keep your head pointed towards the sky as you extended your hands to take the remainder of his clothes. You could clearly hear the other two wolves snickering behind the sound of blood rushing through your ears. It did not seem nearly as cold out as it did just a few minutes ago.

Asmundr placed the wad of clothes in your hands with a smirk before leaning into the sled to fetch his polespear.

“Be ready, brother,” Ægir said as he nudged Hodr bodily. “You’ll have to make up the pup’s slack.”

The young pup bristled in agitation before he sharply pivoted on his brothers with a note of forced laughter. Coincidentally, you suddenly received a full view of all his glory.

“Ha! Afraid you’re not gonna be able to keep up, old man?”

You forced your eyes not to wander below his ribs, which was very difficult as he stood with his chest puffed out and fists confidently resting on his hips. Your face felt so hot that you thought the ice would melt under your feet and swallow you whole.

Despite your years in service to the Vlka Fenryka, you doubted that you’d ever understand just how…comfortable they seemed to be in their plain skin. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact they were Astartes, specifically. You’d imagine it would be difficult to feel vulnerable in any state with the physique of one of the Emperor’s Angels.

“Worried that you’ll drive the best game away in your haste.” Hodr’s voice sounded suddenly closer than you anticipated. Your heart jumped when you felt his hand reach around from behind you, lifting your chin to look Asmundr in the eyes and gently squishing your cheeks together. “It just won’t do if there isn’t enough to go around.” The narrowing of the younger wolf’s pupils was almost hidden by the steam billowing from his flared nostrils. “We can’t have thralls of skin and bone.” His whisper tickled your ear, sending a shiver shooting up your spine.

“I do not leave her wanting,” Asmundr snarled, closing the distance and gripping Hodr’s wrist tightly. You could hear something creak beneath your chin, but the grip on your face never tightened.

“Prove it.” You could hear Hodr’s grin as he finally released you.

Oh, something in Asmundr’s eyes sparked as he threw his brother’s hand away. He spared you a brief glance as he squared his shoulders and quickly cracked his neck.

“Time me!” Asmundr yelled back to Ægir as he raced to the opening and jumped into the abyss.

The air was pregnant with silence for a moment.

“Well,” Ægir laughed, rough and gravelly, “He should be plenty motivated now!”

Ten minutes. It had already been ten minutes.

A space marine could hold his breath for approximately twenty-five minutes, or so you’d been told.

You had heard from one of the company’s Kaerls that she had once heard a story of a chapter that regularly held their breath for the better part of a standard hour. You thought it sounded a bit outlandish, but you prayed now it was true as the minutes continued ticking on.

The first several minutes were spent in a bit of an awkward silence. Or, at least, you felt it was awkward. You busied yourself by meticulously folding Asmundr’s clothes and running an inventory of the little equipment in the sled before cleaning the hole of any lingering debris. You noted that Hodr’s gaze seemed to return the distant tree line frequently while Ægir whittled away on a piece of bone.

“It’s been ten minutes.” The booming voice of the veteran seemed to rattle through your chest, and you nearly lost your footing at the sudden announcement.

 The undignified sound you made as you recovered your stance drew a chuckle from the eldest wolf.

“I’m curious,” Ægir said, pointing his knife in your direction. “What do you suppose the pup’s hunting for right now?”

You stared blankly at him.

“Fish, my lord?”

That veteran laughed, tried to control himself, and began laughing some more before he started coughing.

“You’re not wrong, thrall,” he conceded. You watched a flock of dark birds chitter and flee their roost in the distance. So far away they were like a smear against the sky.

“You know,” he started back up, dropping his gaze to return to the bone figure he was making. “I was out on campaign with the pup.” A thin flake fell away from his hands. “And it was fierce, to be sure. Well, while we were holed up in some throne-forsaken pit, the daft boy starts singing. Badly, mind you, and quiet, but singing nonetheless. And so, I ask him ‘Boy, what do you think you’re doing?’” Ægir looked up and you realized that you’d thoughtlessly drifted closer as the veteran continued. “And do you know what he tells me?”

“No, my lord.”

“He says, ‘Well, that little serf sings this when she’s in the armory, and I thought maybe it would help me focus.’” Another flake fell from his hand as he scoffs, “Focus, my missing big toe.”

Ægir looked like he was about to continue, loudly, but shut his mouth and looked past you a moment before you heard it.

A loud wet thwacking noise echoed across the empty plane and time seemed to pass slower than usual as you saw a vibrant, gleaming, blue fish that could rival the stature of terminator power armor surge out of the icy depths and caress the grey sky, before making its arched decent like an angry torpedo with needlepoint teeth.

You hadn’t survived this long in such a cruel galaxy without any wits at all, and ran to give the beast a wide berth upon its impact with the surface. Its furiously flailing body splashed little droplets of water against your form, which froze solid in the cold air.

“Ha! No wonder he likes you so much,” Ægir ribbed at you, as he seamlessly stabbed the wriggling thing through the back of its head, piercing whatever brain it could have. “You scurry about like ei lita kanin!”

The burning retort that had definitely been on the tip of your tongue was tragically cut short by a sudden series of muted vibrations that traveled up your legs. Something was hitting the ice…

Your feet were moving before you could think. What help could you realistically offer Asmundr from here? You could not dive into the freezing water, you could not drag him back to safety, you could not even pull his body up onto shore without dislocating your shoulder in the attempt. But you knelt stupidly by the hole anyways; you had to be as close to his side as possible, in case he needed you. Because you would do all those useless things if he so much as hesitated in telling you not to.

Not long after, the surface of the water began bursting with bubbles of air from the depths, bringing with them deep oily blood. You called out to him, as if he would be able to hear you meters away and underwater.

“Mundi! Are you okay?!”

Time seemed to drag on for an eternity as the bubbling died down and the water remained still.

You had just started to loosen the straps of your outermost layers to dive in yourself when a crimson streak began racing towards the surface. You could feel your heart fall back into place.

Asmundr’s red hair clung to his forehead and neck as he beamed at you in pride. Or, as best he could.

The spear he lifted out of the water held four native fish, each easily as long as your arm and thicker around than both of your thighs. A massive bony fish with pearlescent armor still wiggled in his maw, cracked where his fangs dug tightly into its flesh. He threw the spear up onto the ice before hefting his bulk out of the hole.

Sitting on the ledge of the ice beside you, he pulled the fish from his teeth. His smug smile showcased the gleaming red that clung to his canines and dripped down his chin. He glanced about briefly before his expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Where’s Hodr?”

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left.

“Not far,” Ægir said. “He picked up a scent while you were out.”

“Are you okay, Mundi?” You had been keenly looking him over for any obvious injuries he may have sustained since he surfaced. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, but maybe he just rammed the ice with his thick head. You stood up to get a better look. “It sounded like you hit the ice pretty hard.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t near the ice at all.” Rivulets of water trickled down Asmundr’s body, his core temperature just enough to keep the water from freezing against his skin in the cold air. “Are you sure you’re not the one that hit the ice?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by his teasing tone. You were just relieved that he was okay.

Asmundr’s gaze turned sharply from you to the horizon at a noise you could not hear.

“Finally done batting that pest around, Hodr?”

You turned towards Ægir’s call and watched as Hodr dragged along an enormous, white-feathered land-shark behind him.

“Six minutes,” the wolf bellowed, shaking the leg of his kill. “How long was the pup?”

“Thirteen minutes!”

Something rumbled deep in Asmundr’s chest at the veteran’s announcement and he huffed in irritation. If you hadn’t just been willing to throw yourself into the icy void after your companion out of shear worry, you would have found his pouting cute.

“Mundi,” you started softly as he plopped himself away from his brothers to work on his kills. He did not look up. He was still wet and bare and the wind was still so cold and you did not think you could handle the implausible thought of him catching a chill.

“Mundi, you need to dry off,” you chided as you unwrapped the outermost fur you wore from your waist. It would be warmer and drier than the one he placed on your shoulders, which had kept you plenty warm, but also collected a non-insignificant amount of flurries.

He grumbled something as he continued to work on dislodging his kills from the spear.

You pursed your lips before running the fur across his shoulders and up his neck, before tousling his hair the best you could. You left the fur draped across his shoulders, which he gripped closed across his chest with one hand. He remained incredibly tense before in-taking sharply and shaking his upper body vigorously. You did not escape the resulting splatter.

He tilted his head back to look you in the eyes, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you recognized amusement and joy in them.

“I’m keeping this!” Asmundr announced, sounding very pleased. “But you have to hold onto this,” he tugged slightly at the pelt that still engulfed the entirety of your upper body, “for me, in return.”

The request turned something in your chest.

“Of course,” you agreed, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

 He smiled up at you in turn, his eyes softening as his gaze lingered. In that moment, it felt as if something in the universe had clicked into place. After a few seconds, he abruptly looked back down and dragged the armored fish over to him.

“Oh? You haven’t heard of it?” Countess Tièna said, a faint and disarmingly patient smile tugging at her lips. “An alchemist from the west has made a special type of paint that is safe for the human skin and holds pigment within nails for quite a long time. I was simply too curious not to try it out, and I must say, I am not disappointed.”

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady.” The new wife of the earl added, nipping her floral tea delicately, taking only the tiniest of sips. “I’m sure you must have garnered many suitors for such a well-decorated hand.”

It was presumably said as a light attempt at humor, but every eye snapped towards Tièna, gathering her reaction to such a comment. The countess’ marriage prospects were, after all these years, still a subject of interest. Both because of the power she held in her territories, the rumors regarding her late husband's death, as well as the mature beauty she’d turned into. 

The countess’ smile faltered for a single second. Another lady coughed slightly, having covered her mouth even before any sound came out. You were staring blankly at the wall with your back straightened, keeping your peripherals on the table to check if everyone was still well. As a servant, you had a basic understanding of the politics that went on in this place. One had to, when every conversation you overheard during work was between high-ranking nobility.

She couldn’t be seen faltering as a host, which was as far as you could guess her current motivation, so the countess pretended to burst out in giggles before studying her own hand. “It must be so. Well-decorated it is most certainly.” 

Her attempts at tying off the subject were ignored, as the second question rose up immediately.

It was, unsurprisingly, one of the older, more conniving ladies that spoke up. “I have even heard the esteemed captain has visited here a few times. It might be presumptuous of me, but might he be after said hand?”

You side-eyed the countess, reading her reaction. An insinuation that she’d even humour the captain’s possible affections was preposterous, and raising it as an actual possibility of marriage was an insult to the countess at best. 

It wasn’t a nobility thing, the ladies’ dislike for the captain. He was born from a high enough station and had been majorly successful in his position. It was rather that despite his noble birth and many military accomplishments, he seemed utterly uninterested in the subtleties of the court, instead relying on his rank to make sure no indiscretions ever affected his station. 

He was absolutely hated among lower nobility, and even high nobles seemed wary even associating with him, despite his influence. The captain ruled with brute force, and at times seemed more akin to a barbarian than a high lord of the court. Returning his affections would mean social death in the countess’ eyes, even if it’d lean her a great deal more power to associate closely with the military. 

“It is quite presumptuous of you, I am afraid.” The earl’s wife gasped, the hard choice of words surely testing her constitution. “There is a bit of business with which he needed my approval, and I aided him in his endeavors.”

Your face did not move an inch, your gaze settling firmly on the curtains, but inside your mind, your head was whirring. 

That was a lie. 

The countess had no idea why the captain had visited so often lately, but there was no way she could ever tell the other noble ladies that. It would be too easily reconstructed as romantic interest, despite the fact that all the times the man had visited her, he’d barely stayed for more than a few minutes, saying little each time. His silence was worse, as he was not known as a bashful man, meaning there had to be something she was missing. 

Telling the others he’d needed her aid with military business was a fair move, since it implied her own influence in those kinds of matters. Despite this, you knew from the moderate reaction and the soft ‘oh’s that not everyone believed this. 

One of the newer ladies, who’s names you’d stopped trying to remember after your countess’ sixth move (she couldn’t seem to decide whether country-life or city-life suited her more), lifted a dainty finger. “How intriguing. I’ve yet to meet the captain. From what I’ve heard he is a valiant warrior and brilliant strategist. I am most certain he is quite busy, since of course protecting a country leaves much work to be done, but I am curious whether or not he will attend the celebration of the Third next week.”

An older woman shook her head and placed her hands atop one another on her legs. “I would not count on it. Captain Kenpachi is known for being a bit of a truant with such occasions. Perhaps the socializing is not to his liking.” 

They all laughed as if a joke had been told. 

You could tell that the ladies here were in leagues above the countryside nobility. There they still let personality shine through, messy hair days and muffled curses when things went wrong, while here every movement seemed studied. None of their backs touched the leaning. Drinking the expensive tea that had been laid out occured in slow bouts of minimal sips. None of the food that was present had been touched, but everyone had something on their plate. None of them spoke with accents, even the lady you knew to be from the south speaking the language like she’d never spoken anything else. Eyecontact was short and divided between the most important players, the countess in particular having the privilege as host to decide whom she’d meet halfway. They all smiled, though the subject matter was not nearly as innocent as they were making it seem. 

If others were able to see the cards in your hand, it meant you were either stupid or unwilling to play the game, and these women were playing. This was as close to outright gossiping they could get in this group without shifting power in any direction. For the countess, allowing clear insults to the captain at her party would be something the rest could hold against her and use later, but changing the subject would make the ladies presume the countess did hold some affection, and they would force that rumor to fly until it became a problem. 

Or at least, this is what you presumed. Once you’d spoken to Natlan, a clerk, and he’d held theories of social standing shifts and codes hiding within the colours of the dresses that had made your head boggle. You kept it simple. It was hard keeping up with professionals.

The viscountess, a black-haired woman with very sharp eyes, delicately pushed a non-offending hair strand over her shoulder. This lady in particular wore a blue dress fitted to perfection, and sat perfectly upright and slightly diagonally on the chaise she’d been assigned, to make her dress fall perfectly, hovering barely over the floor. “Do you know the reasons for his absence, lady Tièna? Perhaps having discussed military strategy with him has given you some insight on his personal reasons for staying outside of the court proceedings?”

You sucked on your cheek as you heard the question, feeling in your stomach the direction this conversation would take. 

“Sadly, I do not know him that well.” The countess diverted, before pointing towards you, to which you just stood up straighter, cursing your own existence. "But perhaps she can clue us in.”

“The help?” Came the soft question of the earl’s wife, looking at you as if she’d just noticed your very physical presence in this room.

Tièna nodded in your direction, allowing you to speak.

You bowed your head. “I was temporarily traveling with the captain’s entourage from Sitsum to Tserk and back.”

“That is quite a distance.” The viscountess stated dryly, having dropped her smile for once, forgetting her decorum when addressing the staff. “What reason could you possibly have had to travel all that way?”

The countess held up her hand, motioning towards her painted nails, not yet wanting to give up the adoration they had afforded her. “I couldn’t just send a coachman, could I! When I heard of its existence, I simply had to make certain the boxes would arrive safely.”

While the viscountess opened her mouth to reply, the earl’s wife cut in between with barely hidden excitement, her tea cup even being placed back on the saucer so she could clasp her hands. “Boxes? There are more?”

“Oh my sweet ladies,” the countess nearly sang. “Of course I brought you all some as well, how vain do you think me? I simply had to test it before giving you all such a rarity, since I did not want to accidentally gift something subpar. The restraint in time due to the distance meant I had little choice.”

They all cooed and started heaping words of praise and thanks onto the countess, some of the younger ladies even whispering among themselves in excitement. During the trip, you’d become very acquainted with the bottles, and you knew that none of the colors meant for others were quite as shiny and full as the one meant for the countess. It was a childish move, but a welcome one, as you hoped it had changed the subject successfully. 

“I do not mean to cut our excitement short, and we can certainly revisit the subject of the beautiful lacque later, since I am sure we are all quite curious as to how it’s made and what brilliant alchemist could have made such a thing, but the captains constitution interests me a little bit more at the moment.” Lady Babette was unperturbed by the gift, and was eager to return to the gossip, quite possibly because it was the more fruitful information. Some seemed disappointed at the change of subject, but the more experienced ladies all seemed eager to continue a truly worthwhile conversation. Lady Babette turned to you and her smile fell. “So, could you perhaps tell us how the captain seemed to you?”

You smiled and hoped it didn’t seem too forced.

“As there were quite a number of people traveling with the entourage, I did not see the captain often.” You hesitantly started, picking your words very carefully, lest you get berated at the end of the party. “The few times I did see him, he was traveling at the back of the caravan. I did not recognize him as the captain at first.”

The memories swirled inside your head, even as you forced them away. You’d not speak them aloud, and no one here would learn of what had actually taken place during the trip. 

After weeks on the road, one's day to day thoughts become little else but varying desires. Wishing for a soft bed, for a full meal, for a small break to refill your waterskin and rest your legs, for the journey to be over already. 

The way to, you’d still been filled with adrenaline and excitement at going to Tserk, the port city being known for its beautiful lights and amazing food. You were so curious to see the city square, where you’d been told there were more stalls than in the entire capital. Merchants selling their goods, bars filled with jolly people eager to make a quick buck off of travelers. You’d saved your money for months, really wanting to bring back some sweets for your family, and maybe a new coat if there were nice ones. 

This excitement kept you from growing tired when the missed sleep started adding up, the carriages filled to the brim and the ground hard and cold to sleep on. The third night, you were gifted a bedroll by a soldier who’d seen you struggling, and you’d thanked him profusely. When he’d started insinuating that you needed to repay him with sexual favors, you’d excused yourself and slept in a different part of the caravan. There were more people sitting around a campfire at this new section, and you were sure that if the soldier found you here, you could yell for help. That big guy in particular would be a useful ally, if he was a tad more heroic than he seemed.

After three hard weeks of walking through rough terrain and arriving in Tserk, you realized you’d forgotten along the way that you were traveling with a militant company, and cities did not particularly enjoy having foreign armies conducting business. The vice-captain, the one who’d held contact with Lady Tiena about you accompanying them, had informed you to go about your business and then return to the camp, since staying in the city would be dangerous.

So no fresh eel, tuna and salmon on your plate. No exciting nights spent talking to people in the bars, or hours spent exploring the markets. Just a quick trip to the alchemist, who of course didn’t even live in the city. You couldn’t even see a glimpse of it. The alchemist was a stoic man who preferred his silence, so instead you were forced to undergo another four hour hike up to his house, at which you were given the boxes and sent right back down, the man not even offering you some water or food. 

Disappointment and all out exhaustion were the themes of the way back. 

The military campaign had been short, and while some soldiers were left behind to ‘protect the peace’, most would return back, though the caravan was significantly shorter. The first day traveling again, after a mere two days of respite, had been spent trying to get back into the rhythm, to no avail, but at least you were among people you recognized from the way to, your eyes now sleepily following the big guy you’d seen before, his black hair swaying side to say in a hypnotizing way. 

But his hair wasn’t necessarily what had caught your initial attention.

He’d dropped a knife. For miles you’d noticed the dingy string swing back and forth, barely holding onto the weapon anymore. How he didn’t find the constant tapping of the sheath against his hips annoying, you couldn’t fathom, but you also couldn’t tell him, the few feet you’d have to sprint to catch up too much to ask of your poor legs. The bottles had taken up your space in the carriages, meaning all that was left for you to do was walk, a terrifying realization knowing you were weeks off from the mansion. Without even the quietest snaps, you saw the metal disappear into the snowy road and knew it wouldn’t have made loud enough a sound to be noticed.

You curled your coat tighter around your body and sighed, pushing yourself to close the distance.

Reaching the location of the knife, you stopped walking and picked up the weapon. After a while you reached the man, and you tapped his arm. He stopped walking and faced you, and you completely froze beyond the cold already seeping through your bones. You’d known he was massive, but how could a man look this angry? He looked like he’d tear you limb to limb for just having touched his arm. 

You held out the knife with a small smile. “You dropped this.”

His eyes went towards the knife and he took it from your hands, flipping it in the air once before throwing it in a nearby random carriage, the soft thunk making you feel quite silly for having gone through the effort of retrieving something that was probably worthless. 

“So I did.” He grumbled, casting you a single glance more before turning around and continuing to walk, the caravan moving continually. It’d be hours before camp would be made, and you yearned for even a glimmer of warmth and sleep.

For now, the relief regarding the lack of wind reaching you behind the back of this monster of a man was enough.

None of these resurfacing memories were part of your description to the ladies. You kept your story short and to the point, trying not to say anything that would lead them to suspect you of withholding information. Technically you did not lie. You hadn’t known. You still could barely believe it. 

Your anxiety was probably still shining through, as several more experienced attendees of the tea party visibly frowned, though you felt hesitant to call it such. Just the barest raise of the eyebrows, a hint of distrust in their eyes. Even if you’d told the entire tale, including every single detail, you were sure that would still be the case. Maids were known to lie every now and again, as they’d all be dead if they didn’t. The difference between a good maid and a bad one was the timing. 

“Since you state you only saw him a few times, the odds of you two having spoken must be quite small.” Lady Babette said with a sigh, clearly having hoped for some more direct information on the captain's personality. “But the entourage must be quite familiar with him, how did they talk about him?”

“As they are a wartime outfit, things could be quite militant,” you said, the words rushing across your tongue. “Most did not want to acquaint themselves with me.” 

“Hey! Girl!” Someone shouted, and by the grit underlying the voice, you recognized it as the one who’d dropped the knife earlier that day. You looked up, not yet realizing he was calling you, but the second you made direct eye contact, you were fully awake. “Come here.”

Not really knowing the chain of command, and kind of curious as to why he was calling you over to the much more lively campfire, you crawled out of your bedroll and walked over, just a few steps shy of the entire group. To be put on the spot so heavily was a bit embarrassing, but you were here now. Nothing to do but endure, as the hole in your left shoe had taught you today.

“Is there something?” You resisted the urge to rub sleep out of your eyes and tried to look agreeable. No servant of Lady Tièna would continue to be in her employ if she found out you’d behaved discourteously during your travels. The group soldiers all regarded you curiously as the big man had addressed you. A small smile tugged at your lips. “You found a knife?”

He scoffed and instead waved over to a free spot next to the fire. You blinked, but your feet were already moving and sitting yourself down next to some people you recognized during the day, not really feeling up to questioning anything.

Despite the big man not having said a word, the others all seemed humored, to various degrees, and quickly the silence stopped. At first you were completely overwhelmed, but grateful to sit beside the warm fire, but soon several people asked you why you were traveling with the group and what your name was. After the introduction, things went easier. They were all nice, and you’d sorely missed some livelihood during your travels. 

Food was passed around, though the amount was nothing in comparison to the gallons and gallons of alcohol doing the rounds. Compared to the dutiful stride during the day, every single one of them seemed eager to let a little loose now. Tales were being swapped, drinking games played, and when it was your turn to tell a dirty joke, you visibly surprised them all with the most vulgar one you’d ever been told, a bald soldier sitting right across from you spitting out his ale at the punchline while the rest burst out in laughter. 

It reminded you of the time you’d broken your leg and were sent home a while. You hadn’t wanted to sit at home the entire time, so after a week, you’d asked your neighbor to just help you get to the nearest pub so you could spend your time people-watching. You made sure to pay the bartender for a drink every so often, and while those were the most expensive few days of your life, you regarded them dearly.

A drunk soldier had tripped over the back end of your dress and spilled some drink on the big man and you by proxy, and quite immediately a fight broke loose. Just like in the bar, it’d seemed more like a play than an actual fight. Sure, at the end the offender held a broken arm and a bruised nose while his opponent just laughed, but instead of complaining, he doused himself in ale and loudly declared himself a repentant sinner, causing another wave of cheers and lively chatter.

When most of the conversations had died out, and the vast majority had gone to sleep, you were still sitting next to the smoldering ashes, not yet ready to let the evening slip by. The big guy had also stayed, though he looked tired and kind of pissed, even if you had learned that it was probably his set expression. Eager to immediately prove you wrong, his expression shifted to a wide grin and he turned to you, holding out his hand. 

“I’m Zaraki.” 

You smiled and introduced yourself as well, feeling the happiest you’d felt in a while.

“Come on, girl.” Said a woman who was probably the same age as you. “You can tell us everything! I can see that you are nervous, but there is no need to. What you say will not leave this room.”

Resisting the urge to laugh nervously, you instead just nodded. Seems like they didn’t buy the idea that you were just anxious from speaking so much in front of nobility. Lady Tièna smiled her usual patient and loving smile, but you saw by the tightness of her lips that she’d be angry with you if your story did not entertain her guests sufficiently. It didn’t matter. You’d rather be hit by her for such a minor offense than deal with the consequences of the truth. 

She’d kill you, if she knew.

“Ah, well. That is really all.” You lied. “I don’t think I saw him at all after we passed the mountains. It was only after arriving at the capital that I recognized him again and identified him as the captain of the eleventh.”

“Eleventh division.” Tièna corrected.

“Yes. The eleventh division, my apologies.” Only referring to the numbers was the modern way of saying it, something that had certainly not reached this place yet. “But I promise, that is all.”

“Are you sure?” Another lady drawled, disappointed at the anticlimactic story.

“I promise.” You repeated, more firmly this time.

It was not all. Definitely not.

“Please-please-please-” You chanted, head thrown back as your chest rose off the ground against his skin. Sadly, your pleading found no willing listener as his hips slowly came to a halt, again, and you wondered why a brute of a man such as him would be so incredibly cruel, not just to you, but to himself. “Nooooo...”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re acting like I’m hurting you.” 

“You’re being an asshole.” You slapped his chest in mild indignation, the sweat on your skin heating and cooling in cycles for what felt like forever now. Your legs were aching, his body so big you couldn’t wrap your legs around him, leading to him having put one of them on his shoulder. When he thrust in, a heavy slap resounding through the forest, you could feel your body folding. “Don’t tease so much.”

“I’m not teasing, I’m just getting the most out of this.” With any other man, in any other case, you would’ve been uncomfortable. The forest floor wasn’t the best place to fuck on, and there were people waking up just a bit out of sight. If even one of them walked out into the forest to piss, you’d be caught. Regardless, you wanted him with every fiber of your being, the predatory look in his eyes sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve got a twelve hour march after this, so I’m getting my fill.”

“Don’t talk about walking.” You moaned, your lust addled brain now making room for how little you looked forward to making it even worse through the course of the day. God, why were you letting yourself be fucked by quite nearly the biggest man in the entire caravan? What was wrong with you? You’d probably not even last an hour before collapsing. “Not looking forward to it.”

“Pfft. I’m not that cruel.” He pushed his hair back, and you wondered if he knew how attractive the motion was, or if he could feel you tighten up on him in response. You couldn’t tell, but he did start moving his hips again, and you were sure that if he didn’t let you come this time, you’d cry. “If you can hold out for just a bit longer, how about I put you on my spot on one of the carriages so you can rest a bit. I’m not usin’ it anyway.”

You hummed and decided that such a deal would definitely make this giddy feeling last a bit longer, the flutters in your stomach not killed the day after by another harsh day. You coyly looked up at him and wondered if you’d ever found something so simple so romantic. “Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

“Fine.” You smiled widely and raised your hands to his face, cupping his harsh features and imagining what could possibly be going on inside his head. You two were no longer strangers, having made this entire affair way more intimate than it had any right to be, but he still felt miles away. “But only if you kiss me.”

“A hard bargain.” He said, but he immediately bent down, letting your leg fall into the damp grass. At first you’d used the bedroll, but after the third position he’d wanted to try, it’d been discarded somewhere. You’d look for it later. There was only one thing you wanted now. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, your tongues interlacing while your lips glided over his. Heavy balls slapped against your ass and despite already being firmly attached to one another, his hands grabbed your waist, forcing your lower body a bit up into the air so he could thrust faster. You broke the kiss to whimper against him, your entire body lifting off the ground to chase the pleasure he was giving you. 

His face disappeared into your neck, and as you felt him suck a hickey into your neck, you looked up into the bright blue sky, trying to keep yourself from screaming his name as his cock pummeled into you, twitching when he felt you clamp down on him. Digging your nails into his back, you closed your eyes and heard your whimpers become more and more desperate until pleasure finally shook through your entire body, your head thrown back in utter rapture.

He moaned, a low and masculine sound, and you felt cum fill you up, waves of warmth being thrust inside you while you were barely coming down from your own high. Sitting upright, not yet pulling out, he regarded you with a bit of amusement. You were still panting, lying completely defeated on the forest floor. 

“And here I was trying to spend more time with you.” A large hand went toward your boobs, and he started to firmly massage one of them, a lazy smirk on his face. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” You actually didn’t, but you were sure the tired smile you had on your face made you seem much more mischievous than you really were. As if you’d been in the state of mind to do anything but chase after pleasure when you were being fucked like that. “Do I need to do it again?”

He bent forward and placed his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you completely. Slowly, he moved his hips against yours a few times, experimentally, to see if he could go another round. You got your answer through a dangerous sounding chuckle. “I think you might have to.”

--

All in all, the rest of the way back had been interesting. When you returned to your lady, having gone away from the caravan on the last night to avoid having to say goodbye, you wondered if you’d ever again experience such a romance. Sure, there were servants that married outside of work, but such matters were often more about convenience than passion. Nothing like what this had been. You’d even had dreams of leaving with him, of grabbing his hands and going across the sea, but thoughts of your responsibilities and the people depending on your paycheck had made you dutifully pack your bags and return. 

You delivered the lacque to your lady, were hit once for one box that had been damaged during the way, and then dismissed to return to the normal day-to-day tasks. Nothing had changed. 

And nothing would change, you thought, your period returning two weeks later leading you to believe you’d truly gotten away with the entire thing. When you’d been ordered to accompany Lady Tièna to the capital to tend to her chamber whilst she was gone, you went along, sad you couldn’t even visit home before being brought along to another trip. You just sent a letter with a few weeks worth of pay to your family, and hoped everyone was okay. 

It only took a few days to arrive at the capital, which had been an easier journey since you were allowed to sit front of the carriage next to the driver, a seat that only became cumbersome when it started raining. The capital was a beautiful city, though you didn’t look forward to it much, knowing the beauty was only there if one kept to the the main roads. Any detour and being accosted or swindled were par for the course.

The destination was, of course, the castle, but to get there, every noble had to get through the entirety of the capital.

The city center had been destroyed so many times the houses were various eras of architecture, modern white brick interlaced with the bygone popular red clay bricks. You were not a fan of it, though you couldn’t tell whether that was because of the people or the city itself.

There were people swarming the streets everywhere, but the gate to the castle was especially busy, a lot of nobles arriving for the ceremony, though you’d still not been told what exactly was going on. There were enough balls and occasions for them to all blur, and as long as you did your job well, no one would care if you didn’t know what exactly was going on. Even one noble had several guards and maids surrounding them at all times, so for there to be a lot of nobles, it also meant there was a great deal of personnel.

At this giant crowd, you merely looked over the uncountable number of heads, trying to spot anything interesting. Mostly, you were just relieved the cart ride would be over soon, your hips aching after having sat on a hobbly surface for the last ten hours. You cracked your neck and took another quick glance, determining whether it was necessary for you to sit upright and act professional yet. 

And then you’d seen him. 

It was almost impossible to miss him, his head sticking far out in the crowds, though several spears obstructed the view. The same black hair, the same glare, though his clothes were leagues more expensive, an odd mix of the standard neat vest and pants mixed with heavy set boots, silver shoulder pauldrons and a wide belt around his waist. 

You didn’t want to point, but still turned to the driver. “That’s-”

“Who?” The driver said, looking at the crowd to find who you’d been so shocked by. “Ah. Captain Kenpachi? It’s pretty rare to see him here, I guess.”

To say your blood ran cold was an understatement.

“Captain?!”

He blinked. “Yeah? You mean the big fellow, right?”

Every last bit of air seemed to escape your lungs at a snail's pace, and you found it difficult to fit this bit of knowledge into your world view. “Isn’t his name... Zaraki?”

“Kenpachi Zaraki, yeah.” The driver focused more on the road now that the crowd was getting thicker, yelling out in front of him on multiple occasions to get people to move to the side whilst you were desperately waiting for him to continue speaking. “I knew it was something with a Z.”

“Oh.” You breathed out.

It took about a day after finding out you’d had an affair with one of the most powerful men in the country before you’d gathered your sensibilities again. At first you kept tripping, distracted by your newfound knowledge, but after a quick slap by Tièna after you asked her to repeat herself, the rhythm of work brought you back, though even now the thoughts were waiting at your peripheral. 

Your mistress at her entrance to the proceedings had done swimmingly and, at the very least, you’d not lost focus, even when Zaraki had been right there in the crowd, talking to someone. Your eyes had been fixated on him, but the second he turned even slightly in your direction, you’d looked away. Well, it wasn’t your direction. It was Lady Tièna’s. 

And yet… he’d shown up a few days later. You’d nearly gotten a heart attack as you’d walked in with tea, and he’d sat on the chaise. He’d not fit in with the feminine style your lady preferred, and when you sat down the cups, he threw you a mean-looking grin that assured you he remembered you clearly. Lady Tièna had been unsure how to deal with him, especially since he didn’t give a clear reason for his presence. You knew what he was there for, the slightly manic eyes he held whenever you two made eye contact making you foolishly imagine that the late night talks and moments of passion had actually meant something to him. 

Another week, and you’d realized they’d meant nothing. He just saw you as an easily accessible whore, conveniently here in the capital while he did some business. The first moment he’d gotten you alone, he’d made this clear, shushing you whenever you tried to speak up and pressing your face in a pillow while he made use of you. Despite the more comfortable setting, the soft cushions and the feathers beneath you, it was a lot more uncomfortable and painful compared to the hard and wet forest floor.  

It had broken your heart a little, despite how you knew it was foolish to even let it surprise you. You tried to get used to the new set of circumstances, despite knowing how close to execution and betrayal you were. Just a single glance from someone who would tell, a single word spread too far, a single meaningful sigh the ladies would hear from your lips. 

Again, it was the rhythm of work that brought you back. It would always be like that, the clear structure of Lady Tièna’s care making your own life fade to the background. You washed, bathed, cleaned, refreshed, and maybe at the end of the day, you would not think too long about your situation. You had more important things to think of. The celebration of the Third. The entire reason for coming here. The one’s dependant on your pay.

You lived towards the festivities, hoping it would rid your mind of all these thoughts, and when the celebration did arrive, you were disappointed it did not consume you as much as you’d promised yourself it would. The ceremony lasted the entire day and night, but your presence was not required after the garden luncheon. Desperately trying to find something to pass the time with, you sneaked away towards the staff rooms, hopefully getting in a nap before your late shift. You’d have to clean Tièna’s room, empty her bedchamber pot, ready her late night tea, remove her laundry and notify the other staff of whatever she wished to eat tomorrow. 

Close to your destination, you locked eyes with a rather nervous looking guard whose eyes were darting between you and something behind you. Paying a little more attention, you suddenly heard some boots behind you, heavy-set, and at a pace you’d recognize in your dreams. 

“You certainly walk faster when it’s on marble.” The new arrival said. You turned around and saw Zaraki, and immediately bowed deeply, feeling the guard's gaze burn into your back. Despite your fears for Zaraki- captain Kenpachi acting improperly with an audience, he seemed to agree that an extra set of eyes was unwanted. With a quick look toward the guard, the man was dismissed, and somehow the realization that it was now just the two of you was neither better nor worse. The captain looked you over. “How’re you doing?”

You took a shaky breath

“I am doing fine.” Slightly unsure how to carry yourself in this situation, you just clasped your hands in front of your body and wiggled back and forth on the heel of your feet. “Is there... any reason you stopped me?”

“Do I need a reason?” He took a step forward and placed a finger under your chin, a low noise escaping him as he got a good look at you. “If I want to see my woman, I will.”

You interrupted his reveling by taking a step back. 

“My lord, that’s not something-” To say you were at a loss for words would be a lie, since you knew exactly what you needed to say, but did not dare phrase it the way your heart wanted to. “That’s not something that’s proper.”

His brows furrowed and he crossed his arms, and you would’ve accused him of pouting if he did not seem so incredibly scary doing so. He was big, and everytime you looked at him, at his bulging arms and struggling clothes, you believed the rumors you’d been told about him since arriving here a little more. How he’d halved a man wearing armor with a practice sword on the battlefield, how he’d punched an iron gate open, how he’d ripped off a head clean using only his thumb and index finger. Rumors. Scary stories. Tales that felt more real with each second you spent in his vicinity.

“Proper? I don’t think a maid who let’s herself get fucked in someone else’s bed can talk about being proper.” He grumbled, his voice raspy and low, making you need to focus to catch some of his sentence. 

“I hardly let you.” You argued, before catching yourself in your rudeness. You’d basically implied he’d raped you, a harsh accusation to throw, despite not being completely untrue. He’d cornered you after meeting him again in the halls of the castle and had barely spoken before dragging you into an unused room meant as a secondary room for your employer, undressing himself before you’d even gathered what was happening. Still, he was more powerful than you could even fathom, both in strength and status, and using the staff was only customary in some houses. Perhaps you’d believed for too long that the castle was different. You cleared your throat. “My apologies. I meant to say that I appreciate your kindness, but there is no need for you to concern yourself with me.”

“Stop being so uptight.”

“I do not mean to be.” 

“Well, you are.” He crossed his arms. “You were a lot more fun while traveling.’

A livid feeling bubbled at the base of your neck and for a second, you saw actual red. It took a deep breath and a full ten seconds of re-composing yourself before you opened your mouth to speak again, hoping the time had been enough to wash away the bitter and angry tone you wanted to place on your words so badly. “Captain Zaraki, whilst traveling I was unaware of who you were, and I’m sure you were unaware of my position.”

“Nah, I knew you were working for that Tièna woman. I asked Madarame while we were in Lippenfield.” 

“If you knew then why would you-?” You cut yourself off and found a wholely dehumanizing reason for it. Ah. He’d really let you whisper confessions of your feelings all the while knowing it was nothing but a fling for him. A fun distraction before he settled down with one of those ladies who wouldn’t even make eye contact with you. 

If anyone knew what had happened, they wouldn’t put any sort of blame on his end, while you’d most certainly be sent home for disgracing your employer. Even if he had any sort of feelings toward you, which you doubted, the only one at risk here during this conversation was you. You needed to remain poised, and show no sign of weakness or anger. The same as usual.

“I see. I apologize for my insolent behavior then, but I must still ask you to forget about me, since I neither want to cause trouble for my lady, nor be an issue for a more suitable match.” Footsteps in the distance were a lot louder when you didn’t want to be caught. You turned around to see who approached and blanched when you noticed it was the second in command to Za- captain Kenpachi.  The last thing you needed was any more eyes. “If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I will take my leave now.”

Risking decorum, you just walked away, gripping the fabric of your dress tightly. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you would surely start bawling if you heard even one thing they said, no matter the subject. To avoid losing yourself like that, you hurried to the chambers of your mistress. The staff chambers would be too full at a time like this, so behind the curtains of your ladies bedchamber would certainly be a better place to cry until you stopped feeling so goddamn desolate. 

The two men you left behind watched as you left, and the second you got out of earshot, Madarame turned to his captain, his arms crossed. 

“How’d it go, cap’?”

Kenpachi Zaraki sighed deeply, before turning around and heading the other direction. Madarame followed suit, suppressing the slight amusement he felt at seeing his captain so out of sorts.

“I have no idea.” He shrugged, deciding to go to the training fields to find some poor chums to work off some energy, since his plan A for that purpose had promptly backfired. Zaraki glowered as he walked through the halls, many people flinching at the sight of him. Madarame only sighed and tried to save face by smiling at the passerby. The captain sighed deeply. What had changed here? She’d been blabbering about love before they’d split and now she could barely look at him without looking half out of her mind with anger. So she hadn’t expected him to be a captain, what did that matter? Was she angry he didn’t say anything about that or something? Ugh. “Women are way too complicated.”

“Hear hear.” His second in command agreed. 

“What’s your take on it?’ Kenpachi asked, feeling a bit disgruntled he had to ask for advice on the topic, but he was getting tired of seeing you dart around so skittishly. He wanted you back, the wide-smiling beauty that had trailed behind him and gripped him by both his body and mind in the span of two weeks, but all he saw now was a ghost of you, bruises, polite words and dark circles hiding you from him. “My main idea now is to just kill that countess.”

Madarame sputtered and looked around to see if anyone had overheard that. “What would that fix? I know it’s my job to get you out of political messes, but don’t just charge into them!”

“Do you have anything better?”

“Anything! Anything is better!” 

“Hmm.” He considered some alternatives for a second. If killing that cunt of a countess would create too much of a fuss, surely he could just take you for his wife? There’d be bitching about that surely too, but at least he wouldn’t need to apologize to any of the other captains that way. A dark voice within him said that you’d probably be too loyal to that woman to just leave with him after this entire fiasco was over, or you’d have sixty other objections, like women were prone to have. He’d need to be your only right option, and make you certain that that was the case. “I think I have an idea.”

“Please don’t tell me about it. It’ll only ruin my evening.”

It didn’t sound that dramatic in his own mind. He just needed to ruin you for anything else. If one of those uptight ladies, preferably that Tièna woman, would walk in on him fucking you, you’d probably get fired, and you’d be ripe for the taking. If anything, he was saving you from a long time of being a servant, since Zaraki for one, was quite interested in what you’d look like taken care of. The stench of nobility and servitude had to be washed off of you, and he could once again smell and touch you, in all your natural glory.

“Your call.” Zaraki shrugged, rolling his shoulders as he walked further down the halls, his mind shortly remembering how you’d looked while he had followed you, the sight of your back one he missed already. Quickly pushing away the sentimentality, he readied himself to bash some faces in, the training grounds surely lessening some of the aggression he felt. 

You can just go to the mess hall and get something to eat, and rush back to your quarters. It's not as if you have other options in the matter; He surely hadn't expected you to just starve, or get someone to wait on your hand and foot.

You had your fill of that on Terra. You can get your own food, you aren't a child anymore. And this ship is alive and well, you aren't going to let yourself fear some invisible terror in the dark.

Having your fill of hermitry you get up from your desk chair, leaving the small quarters that have been designated as your own. It has only the basics; A bed, a desk and chair, and a few other basics for a human to live. Perhaps it isn't as grandiose as a study in your highrise on Terra, in the shadow of the gilded Imperium palace, but it is far more freeing.

Upon leaving hall was relatively empty; They hadn't felt content to put you in quarters with other baseline humans, but you were still far away from the Salamanders own barracks. You were sure Ralkan had a say in this intentional placement as your guardian.

Down adjacent halls you can sometimes see a hint of dark blue armor pass the corner of your eye as you walk, but by the time you go to look, it’s gone. You've seen glimpses of the Night Lords now that they're aboard the ship, but you've avoided a full confrontation as of yet.

Ralkan's suffocating protection has done a good job of it. However he has his duties and cannot be around you always, and you’ll take the moment to take a deep breath free of him for just a little while.

You would never say you dispised him, but his aggravating behavior has begun to make your quarters feel like a cage. You cant stay in there forever, you have to eat. You doubt he would scold you for such a thing.

When you reach the mess hall you quickly grab a heaping portion of food- anyone who notices pays no heed to the amount- and sit to quickly shovel it all down. It's less than appealing taste is like nothing else now, with how hungry you are, and you find it gone within minutes. Only crumbs are left, and finally you're full again.

You quickly get up and move to shuffle back to your quarters not moments after the last bit of food hits your belly. If you're quick and avoid too many eyes he'll never know, and you two can both continue being sweet on one another with him being none the wiser.

His heart is in the right place; It's just that his grip is far too tight.

Your feet hit the floor at a quick place, walking as fast as you can go. The halls are a bit emptier than they were earlier, but you notice your door is within sight after what feels like only a few minute trek. When you get in, you can continue to write about Commander Artellius, and your time with the Salamanders. Being in travel has made things largely uneventful, other than the edition of the new temporary allies.

You reach towards the door open it, when a voice cuts the air and nearly startles you into to the ceiling.

“Well, what is this?”

The voice is loud, with an odd accent that warps his words ever so slightly. The shadows overtaking you are massive, and they almost seem to have appeared out of nowhere.

Maybe they had been following you. You were too busy staring at your own feet to notice, worried about making it back before a fellow of Ralkan spotted you out and out.

With no other option you turn and look up, gazing over dark blue armor with dents and scratches, marked with brass edging and red accents.

Only one had spoke, but there's three here; The middle is the tallest, but the one to his right is the most scarred; And the one that spoke, judging by the way he's smiling. He's the cockiest one, clearly.

The one in the middle has skin pallid and marked, a massive, jagged scar cutting across the bridge of his nose and brow. You think his irises might be a color, brown or grey, but there’s something in them that almost seems to suck the light out of everything around him and make them almost as black as his hair. But unlike his brother, he's yet to speak a word.

Your hand hovers over the handle of your door, frozen. You've barely even looked to the third Night Lord to your right.

Stuck like prey, you jolt as you spot an armored hand begins to reach towards your face from the corner of your eye, towards your jaw, and you yelp as it clamps around your jawline. Instantly your own hands try to pull at his armored fingers, teeth gritting as he holds far too tight. The cocky one steps a bit closer and turns your face as if examining a curious trinket, before he notices something.

“She’s all bruised,” He says, his thumb shoving your cheek and pushing it.

You were? When Ralkan grabbed you last you saw him he must’ve done so too hard. You can’t feel it hurting, but you are more than used to the smattering of bruises across your skin from him. Even at his most gentle, it’s obvious he isn’t made with it in mind.

You look up at the one gripping you, watching his eyes rake over you. He laughs, a gravely chuckle that you can feel in your chest as his own rumbles. The third one simply watches, body blocking the only escape path away from the other two. He's watching, like the act of doing so is more amusing that actually joining in.

“I thought the Salamanders were supposed to be altruistic.”

The Night Lord turns your face harder, and you gasp trying to pull at his gauntlet to free yourself even a minutia. Your muscles ache, jaw yelling in pain as his gauntlet is like a vice grip around the bottom half of your face.

“Hey, careful.”

The one in the middle finally speaks up for the first time, and the one grabbing you turns to him and scowls, clicking his tongue. His nose wrinkles but he doesn't let go of you, goading his taller brother.

“What, you suddenly care? We don’t feed other people's pets.”

Reaching forward he tugs one of your hands away from your captor's gauntlet, raising it for your captor to easily see.

“Look at the clothes. I think she’s important.”

The one grabbing you scoffs and turns away, pulling you around again. His other gauntlet grabs at your other arm, and looks at your hand. His face perks considerably, and the jolt of fear it sends through you beats all others.

"Ink stains. You don't work. You're soft."

Something on his face and in his voice changes, and you try to dig your heels into the ground in some fruitless effort to stay put.

"Volya." The middle one says as your capture seems to be readying to pick you up. You can barely open your jaw to speak let alone yell, unless someone spots you, you stand no chance of getting out of where ever he's planning on taking you.

"Yeah yeah, she's important; What important person is shoved back here by all the serfs and storage? They won't notice."

You yelp digging your heels deeper, and briefly look at the one who has voiced even the tiniest bit of concern for you. He catches your gaze, and something changes in his eyes as your hands pull at the fingers that hold you.

Moments later he grabs at his battle brother’s gauntlet, the ceramite clanking against each other as armor plates collide. Your captor looks at the taller one like he's furious at just being touched.

“We’re already far out-numbered on this ship. Just leave it. Find a less important one to toy with.”

He looks at his brother for a moment, nose wrinkled and teeth barred, and you can feel the air change like a fight is brewing; But he lets you go.

“Fine.”

Taking his fellow with him the two Night Lords leave you and the tallest of the three, the one who stood up for you, alone. You rub your jaw and look up at him. He watches with an unreadable expression on his unkempt face.

“...Thank you,”

You say, and you’re surprised by the way he reacts to it. Though his surprise fades away, as he smiles. It feels like his teeth are too big for his mouth, his two sharp fangs press against the inside of his upper lip.

“It talks? A surprise.”

Whereas Ralkan is stoic and mindful, this man is the opposite; His smile is cocky and posture relaxed even in his hulking armor. His arms cross, but given the size of his chestplate, the closest he can get to fully doing so is gripping his forearms with the opposite hand.

You swallow the knot in your throat. You know that while he did chase the other two away, it's very well possible it's only because he wanted you to himself.

Though maybe it's that curiosity in you- the thing that Ralkan seems so irritated by- that has you prying for answers rather than just crying and pleading for him to let you leave.

“What is your name? You’re the first of your Legion I’ve met.” 

That wasn’t the question he expected to hear, you suppose. His face perks with surprise and curiosity not unlike a child.

“Lev.”

Ralkan told you they enjoy terrorizing the weak, only picking fights that they know they can win by overwhelming odds. You'd say if you didn't cower like prey maybe he would leave you alone, but that's impossible when Lev is a terrifying example of just how little of a thing you are, in comparison to these giants.

But he doesn't seem like how Ralkan described them on first impression, however. Perhaps he’s just hiding it so you let your guard down. Though why would he risk a fight with his battle brothers if that was the case?

“We didn't know they had any of you studious types on board. Do they keep you all locked up?” 

You're sure Ralkan would like to, if he had his way with it. Had he been less inclined to take your opinion seriously, you'd probably be chained somewhere in your quarters, right about now.

"I was, informed, to stay in my quarters until you all left the ship."

Lev snorts, his smirk lopsided. Before he has a chance to say anything more, you notice that he has blood coming from one nostril, down his lip. It’s dry, but you wonder if he was in a fight and broke his nose not long ago. The bruising around it and dipping underneath his eyes adds to the theory.

“You’re bleeding…”

You say, gesturing to your own nose. He brushes his gauntlet against his upper lip, and watches dried blood fall to the ground. He licks his upper lip, and more of the blood wipes away. You find yourself more distracted by the gesture than one would like.

“Ahh, one of your Salamanders saying things he shouldn’t have; He could throw a punch, but couldn’t take one.” He smiles at you again.

“I didn’t kill him, if you’re worried about him.” "Believe me, I wanted to. All these overgrown lot are a bunch of stuck up types. You think they'd learn to keep their mouths shut before I take something from it."

You get the hint that he's joking, as odd as that is; Salamanders don't often joke. But you also get the hint that the only reason he didn't kill the man, was that as he mentioned before, he's greatly outnumbered on the Flamewrought.

You hadn't been thinking about the Salamander oddly enough however, too focused on the purple and blue bruising scattered across the hump of his nose. Your eyebrows raise, back still pressed against the wall.

“But, are you ok?”

You mumble, watching his eyes look over you. It almost looks like he thinks you're messing with him, until he seems to realize you were serious, and his expression mellows a bit. He uncrosses his arms and reaches a hand for you, and unlike his battle brother, you don't shirk away from his gauntlet nearly as much.

He grabs your jaw much in the same way his battle brother had earlier, but soft enough that it doesn't hurt.

"You stink like one of them," He remarks, and you assume he's referring to the Salamanders. His fingers grip your chin and pull it upward, exposing more of your neck.

He looked as if he was going to open his mouth and speak more, but a voice cuts through the air and stops him dead.

“Do you not have somewhere to be, Night Lord?”

Ralkan's voice makes your heart nearly stop, though you can’t manage to pull your eyes away from the Night Lord even as he approaches with thundering footfall. Lev however does, and looks towards the Salamander who stands no more than a meter to his right. You can see his face sour as he’s forced to drop his hand.

“Perhaps. But I believe on our arrival you said we were welcome guests, can I not wander?”

Ralkan steps forward, just short of trying to shove his slightly larger body between the both of you. He reaches for you, a massive green gauntlet landing on your shoulder.

“Move along, Son of Curze.”

He gives Ralkan a look. One that while irritated, is pleased that he managed to get under the Salamander’s skin.

But the Night Lord still hesitates to leave, watching as you shrink under the shadow of your returned guardian. For a moment you fear he might start something, with the way he looks at you and follows the arm trailing up your shoulder to Ralkan.

But recognizing the fight isn't one that he's sure he'll be able to win, Lev turns away from your overbearing knight to look down at you with the same smirk he'd given you earlier.

"Another time, little Salamander."

Lev leaves. He walks past the Salamander with not even a look, and just barely they manage to not slam pauldrons as he turns away. 

When he is safely out of earshot, Ralkan looks down at you; His expression is still stoic, but you can see the anger hidden beneath it.

“I told you to stay out of their sight,” He says, gripping your shoulder tight. You attempt lightly to pull away, his grip painful, but make little progress.

“I, I’m sorry Ralkan but I had to eat. Did you want me to just starve in there?”

His gaze softens ever so slightly, but you can still tell he’s more than a little bit angry. At you, and himself. Even if he wasn’t at all angry at you, his emotions weigh still on you like lead. He takes this whole protecting you duty that he has been given so incredibly seriously, you wonder how much worse it's going to get until someone else might have to protect you from him.

Ralkan takes a kneel, coming eye to eye with you. Both of his hands now cup the sides of your shoulders, and he looks at you like he's almost pleading at you.

“Now that he has his sights on you there’s nothing that’s going to stop him until he has you.” 

Despite his unnerving look, the blood on his face from a fight that put a Salamander on an apothecary table, he didn’t seem to be the way that Ralkan had described them. 

Maybe he's lying, maybe Lev is faking it.

“It wasn't like he was going to carve me up; By the Throne, Ralkan he saved me. There was more of them, but he chased them off.” Ralkan lightly shakes you.

“They enjoy toying with things like you. Don’t assume anything.”

You take in a deep breath, your face beginning to get hot with anger. You'd said earlier that this ship was more freeing than Terra, but not that's beginning to not be the case.

“He didn’t do anything, just-“ Ralkan’s brow knits in anger and he cuts you off, speaking angrier than you think you've ever heard him. Astartes voices are booming, and his hits you in the chest as he raises his voice.

“There are Salamanders already injured because of them. I asked you to stay here because I trusted you to heed my warning, if you won’t, then I can bring you to my own quarters and lock you inside.”

You look at him surprised at his anger, and your mouth clamps shut. You're angry at him for threatening such a thing, as much as your not surprised by it, but you can't fight him. Not realistically. You look away from him and try to swallow a knot in your throat at suddenly appeared.

Ralkan, realizing he’s upset you, softens his expression and sighs. His hands slide down from your shoulders to hold your hands in his massive gauntlets. The gesture doesn't go unseen, as you look down at them for a moment. The ceramite is cold and rough on your skin.

“I want you safe. It is my duty now yes, but,”

He hesitates for a moment, before removing one of his hands from your own and cupping the side of your face. You hate that the gesture melts away some of the anger you have welled inside of you.

“I would be beside myself if anything were to happen to you. I want you to be safe for your sake and my own.”

He leans closer. In your personal space, breath fanning across your skin, he closes the gap and presses his lips against yours. You don't move for a moment, before you gently exhale and lean closer to him. His nose presses against your cheek, and you can feel the small scars of his skin brush against yours. With him so close you realizes just how warm he is, astartes always run hot but it's like his blood is fire, your lips and face feel so warm. Though it could be your own flush, body heating up.

When he pulls away from you lips separating with a soft pop, you feel some of that stuffy heat dissipate, but the burn over your face remains.

“I must remove my armor first but, will you return to my quarters with me? I will tell you all about Nocturne. You can rest there as well, if you’d like.”

He’s trying to make it up to you, you can tell. He may not be directly apologizing, but he's trying to give you something he knows you want in an attempt to be sweet on you again. You hate how well it works. If only it didn't feel like he had you trapped in a cage, bars getting tighter and tighter.

With the warmth of his lips still on your own, you nod.

“Alright. Let’s go.”