Varang would have so much fun with a little human who is ready to go whenever. Just knowing her human mate is just soo needy we couldn't wait for her to return would have her so so so giddy.

But with a raid that sapped all of her energy and Varang just wanting to take a nap it is a combination that could cause such an misunderstanding. But she is always down to see her little mate writhe in pleasure, even if she isn't actively doing anything to help.

Which is where the vibrator becomes rather convenient. Because now she can settle right beside her mate on the messy slick soaked furs, hand the toy back to us and demand we keep going, while internally giggling over our reaction to her storming in.

Varang can just sit back and relax while she listens to our moans and whimpers. Teasingly running her long fingers along the soaked inside of our thighs.

She's cuddling us to her front, just enjoying the view and the feeling of our insides clenching around nothing when she sets the tips of her fingers at our hole.

Varang can't help but litter a couple gentle bites to the parts of us she can easily reach. Her little human's shoulders, breasts, and even ears. Knocking her teeth against the glass of our mask in affection as we keep squirming, chasing our orgasm against the vibrator and trying to coax her fingers inside.

Eventually we cum, and unfortunately for us, turn the toy off. Even if it's only to catch our breath for a moment we can see Varang's ears flick downwards. "Did I say you could stop?"

Our hands are grabbed and pinned as Varang sets about 'disciplining' her human mate. She takes control of the vibrator and meanly won't let us cum. Not until we beg sweetly enough or we look thoroughly wrecked.

Eventually she stops, all tension from the raid having bled out of her body long ago. She gets us some water, helping us drink with the complication of the mask. Gets the furs back in generally one spot and gently licks her little mate's thighs clean before settling down for the night. Curled around us as usual.

Just the thought of Neytiri zeroing in on the tiny human she sees latched onto Varang's back out of pure hatred and the grief still being fresh and fucking up so badly because of it.

Because despite defeating Neytiri and sending her plummeting to the forest floor, Varang keeps recalling her face. The moment she realized we were shot is running in her mind again and again while she waits for her little mate to wake up.

She's cradling our body, finger pressed to a pulse point and hand around our ribs to make sure we are still breathing, still alive. Somebody tries to get her for something, tries to talk to her because she's been sitting there for hours and she hisses so viciously the hardened warrior stumbles backwards.

That wakes us up. The noise her little human makes is tiny and fragile, barely above a shallow breath, but Varang picks up on it. She's cradling our face (as much as she can with the mask) so gently, like we are the most breakable thing she's ever held.

We try to say something, either a question or a quip meant to cheer her up, but it comes out as a cough that is painful because of the freshly bandaged wound in our torso. We feel Varang trembling minutely as she holds us. We don't comment on it.

Recovery is slow. Of course it would be in the ashen wastes. Every breath wracked with a bit of pain, every shift of our body uncomfortable at best and agonizing at worst. But Varang barely leaves our side, at least at the beginning.

When she must leave her human mate alone, she makes sure to make one of her most trustworthy warriors keep an eye on us. It is humiliating in a sense. We came with her to the raid to prove ourselves, not be stuck to bedrest and even more fussed over than before.

One thing that is always at the back of Varang's head during our recovery, aside her worry for her little mate, is that the corpse of that woman wasn't found. There is a chance that our attacked lived.

It causes Varang's skin to crawl, both due to her wounded pride and her worry. So she stays vigilant. If she ever sees that woman again, she's not getting away.

 You don’t know if becoming mates with the Tsahik of the Mangkwan and the Sky Demon Quaritch after barely knowing them for a day was a good idea. But it was thrilling to get to make that choice. You might’ve skipped the entire courting stage but that doesn’t mean your mates are totally disregarding it.

 Instead it seems you three are sort of working backwards through the process. The moment your heat subsided Varang was eager to dress you in the clothing used by the clan, putting a necklace on you that boldly declared you as theirs. As if the numerous bite marks from your alphas and their scent constantly clinging wasn’t enough. 

 Quaritch for his part picked out a metal weapon for you. A gun he called it. Its weight surprised you white the shape confused you at first. But him gluing himself to your back so he could show you how to properly aim and shoot with it was delightful. The sound it made not so much. Although your mate did promise to get a ‘suppressor’ for you. 

 The few Sky People Quaritch had apparently brought along with him were odd. Constantly toting their weapons around and startling whenever you or somebody else managed to slip past their dull senses. Some even had the nerve to ‘catcall’ you as your Sky Demon put it.

 At least it was pleasant to watch him put them in their place afterwards. While you have just began getting a grasp on the foreign language it was easy to tell he was intimidating them. And you noticed they started keeping their heads down around you. That was a nice little ego boost.

 One part that you don’t know how to feel about is the way the others in the clan act. You haven’t done anything to them and yet they keep track of your movements with weary glances. That or you feel like they are sizing you up, wondering how easy you would be to take in a fight. 

 It gets under your skin. Not the thought that you might be in danger, you know that they wouldn’t dare to touch you. And if they did they were in for quite the scuffle, you knew how to fight after all. But how the Mangkwan view you as an outsider. You have to come to terms with the fact that you still are. 

 You have enough scars from tussles and accidents that didn’t get properly patched up to sort of look like a Mangkwan. But none of the deliberate and decorative wounds they sported. None of the bone and metal piercings either. You couldn’t even pick a paint pattern that you liked yet. 

 At least Quaritch was odd like you on that front as well. But you have to admit one particular anxiety reared its ugly head every once in a while. That you were just a passing fancy of theirs, that you were just trying to convince yourself this place felt like home when it didn’t. That you’d feel trapped again. 

 But then some things got you to say ‘Maybe, just maybe, this is what home feels like.’ 

 You lazily laying on Quaritch’s chest, him nibbling on some fruit and periodically passing pieces to both you and Varang while she grinds herbs. You stealing away his glowing ‘data pad’ thing and messing with it, forcing him to chase you if he wants it back. Pulling his tail if you want attention. 

 Varang squishing your cheeks when she teases you about something, you lightly biting her fingers in response. Or getting a little peck on the forehead whenever you sharpened or organised her weapons. You playfully pouncing on her when you see she is too deep in thought, leading to a little wrestling match. 

 Although you can’t shake the fear of one thing. You spent your heat with two rutting alphas, who were filling you up over and over again during it. While you weren’t using any herbs that would prevent conception. If you weren’t pregnant you’d consider it some sort of freak accident. 

 And you don’t even know if you want a child right now. You’ve only been with your mates for a short while, and during that entire time you three have been mostly busy with hunting down Jakesulli. You aren’t confident if any of you will be good parents and that thought gnaws at you.

 Only reason you haven’t brought up these concerns yet is because of how Varang’s eyes light up when she nuzzles her face against your abdomen. Because of how you sometimes catch Quaritch looking at your belly longingly, like he is missing something. 

 So you keep quiet. You don’t want to ruin this maybe fragile thing with your internal dilemma. Doesn’t help that even if you aren’t already carrying a baby it seems that Varang is quite set on fixing that issue. 

 Because you waking up to Varang grinding her hard cock on your ass or in between your thighs is becoming quite common. Such is the case this morning. You blearily blink the sleep out of your eyes, your tail flicks and smacks the hand Varang has on your hips.

 Her movements don’t slow, instead when she realises you are awake she starts mouthing at the back of your neck. Shoving her nose right up against your scent glands. Your irritation is already making the scent of you slightly bitter.

- No you cannot. - you reply to Varang’s question before she even asks it. She buries her face in your hair and whines. You don’t budge on your stance. - Varang. Yesterday you fell asleep knotted to me. 

 You can feel the pouty shape of her lips on the back of your neck. You have to suppress a fond huff at her behaviour. It’s almost comedic how your alpha is all bummed out because you won’t let her back in. Then a devious little idea strikes.

- Why not use Quaritch? - you turn your head as you whisper conspiratorially to her. You haven’t seen them go at each other even once during your time together. And despite the idea of two alphas together being odd at first, you have to admit you are curious as to how it works between them. 

 Varang’s ears perk at your suggestion, and a grin matching your own appears. Both sets of mischievous eyes slide over to your still sleeping third. Varang easily slips her cock from in-between your pre-cum soaked thighs. You eagerly watch her gently roll him until his front is to the bedding instead of his side. 

 He grumbles something, half sleep, but doesn’t stir beyond that. Varang reaches to the side of the nest and pulls out an unlabelled black bottle, something clearly made by Sky People. 

 You crawl over and curiously watch her pour a generous amount of the clear liquid on her fingers. It looks like slick, just thicker and it doesn’t smell like it. Then her digits dip beneath his tail and in-between Quaritch’s cheeks. You slowly move his tail to the side and spread the fat apart to take a better look. 

 You watch in fascination as her fingers find his hole and slowly start stretching it. There is more resistance to the intrusion than what a pussy would give. Quaritch groans, shuffling around a little bit as he wakes up.

- Really babe? Before I even wake up? - the sleepy growl to his voice adds to the visual in front of you. You have to swallow your spit otherwise it will drip out your mouth.

- Our omega wanted to see you take a knot. - Varang starts fully fingering him when she says that. Two fingers wetly going in and out of his hole, spreading him apart for a third one. Your tail thumps as you slowly feel slick gathering around your folds. 

 Quaritch groans, but doesn’t fight Varang on it. Instead he slightly spreads his legs apart to give her more freedom of movement. His breathing is heavier, hips jolting when Varang finally gets her third finger in him.

 The visual of Varang spreading Quaritch apart and finger fucking him is obscene. And the noises made by the artificial slick make it sounds like she is fingering a cunt and not his ass. Your nails involuntarily dig into his flesh.

- Enjoying the show doll? - Quaritch suddenly growling the words out briefly startles you. Those weird little tufts of hair on his face are screwed together in what could’ve been mistaken as pain. But his eyes are clouded over in a particular way, he is enjoying this as much as you enjoy seeing it. 

- Yes! - your chipper response causes Varang to snort in amusement. You grab both sides of Quaritch’s ass and spread him further. He voluntarily lifts his tail out of your line of sight. 

 Varang slips her fingers out of him and his stretched entrance winks. She covers her cock in more of that liquid. You bite your lip, tail swinging about in excitement when she positions the head of it right over Quaritch’s wet hole. 

 You never thought you’d be getting off at seeing a cock sink into an alpha but here you are, practically drooling at the sight of Varang pushing into your mate. He moans low, tail trembling, Varang isn’t going slow. She hilts herself inside barely a couple seconds after entering Quaritch, he lets out a pained noise.

 You help tug his hips up so Varang can get a better angle to fuck into him. She moves slow at first, getting him used to the motion. But the gentleness doesn’t last long. Soon enough Varang has grabbed his tail and is using it as leverage to ram into Quaritch like she is trying to breed him. 

 And he starts whining. It’s a sound you haven’t heard from him before, and its music to your ears. The wet slap of Varang’s hips to Quaritch’s is a violent sound, but there is an undertone of a softer one. So you look just a little lower from where you can see Varang’s cock plunging into your mate.

 What you see has you licking your lips. Quaritch’s hard and already dripping dick is swinging under him uselessly, slapping against his stomach with every thrust. You settle flat on the bedding, their swinging hips above you. You wrap your hands around Quaritch’s cock and start suckling at his tip. 

 He gave you an almost broken whimper in response. Good. You hold your head in place, letting the force of Varang’s thrusts drive half of his cock in and out of your mouth. Your hand works away at the rest of his shaft, teasing his already forming knot. 

 You can hear Quaritch starting to try and suppress any whines, whimpers or moans. It irritates you. You want to hear how pathetic Varang’s cock is making your mighty Sky Man. How he can’t help but sob when your nails brush against his knot.

 You deliver a mean slap to the meat of his thigh and a light bite to his cock head before slipping it out of your mouth. His yelp is satisfying at least. Varang’s moans hitched at the same time, you presume he tightened around her.

- I want to hear you Quaritch! No hiding! - you hiss out, squeezing him tighter to the point it had to hurt. Varang chuckles in between her moans.

- Fuck-! Yes ma’am… - he sounds broken when he utters the words. You grin, giving one last mean squeeze before you settle him back in your mouth. This time he is vocal about his enjoyment.

 You vaguely wonder what kind of face he is making. Does he look as broken as he sounds? You promise yourself to pay attention to that next time Varang has Quaritch under her. Maybe you’ll make him eat you out, that sounds like a fun time. 

 And then you get a wicked little idea for the second time this morning. What if you made him cum before Varang? Made him endure overstimulation while she chases her orgasm? So with a goal in mind you redouble your efforts. 

 It doesn’t take long. Not with Varang’s cock driving into him over and over, like she is furious with him, combined with your nimble fingers and tongue. Soon you squeeze his knot and feel him spill inside your mouth. He sobs in what sounds like defeat. It makes you shiver and Varang hiss in satisfaction.

 You crawl out from beneath your mates, swallowing Quaritch’s cum on the way up. You lean into Varang space and kiss her, teasing her with the left over taste of your shared mate’s release on your tongue. She moans into you, teeth knocking together.

 You lay a hand of Quaritch’s waist for stability, your other hand slipping between your folds to rub your clit. You break the kiss with Varang apart to properly watch her breaking your Sky Man open. 

 He is still whimpering, whining and his breath hitching in-between sobs. His hole stretched taut and flushed with blood as Varang begins trying to force her knot in. Varang growls while she tries to fit, frustrated at the way Quaritch is just barely not opening up enough for the widest part of her knot to slip past the already stretched ring of muscle. 

 You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet outside of your heat before. The sounds of you rubbing and circling your clit are almost as loud as your alphas fucking. Quaritch is clawing at the bed furs, his cries ringing out. 

 Then you finally, finally see Varang manage to knot him. Quaritch shouts in response while Varang gasps so loud you’d think somebody struck her. You enjoy the view of his entrance trying to close around the cock in it, how Varang rocks back and forth slightly while she fills him up. 

 A curious look down lets you see cum lazily dribbling from Quaritch’s forgotten dick. Fuck- she forced another orgasm out of him just by knotting his abused hole. The very thought of that is enough to push you over the edge, your insides clenching around nothing and gushing slick in the process. 

 Your drawn out moan as you ride it out has Varang smirking in your direction, her head thrown back and lazily pumping into Quaritch as much as she can.

- Still sure you do not want us inside? - she teases, gently stroking Quaritch’s tail to soothe the pain from yanking on it. 

- Positive. This is enough for me. - you sass back, sitting down legs crossed. Your next sentence addressed to your other mate. - Are you well? 

- Yup. Just peachy. - you can sense the sarcasm from a mile away. You huff playfully, knowing he is just being dramatic. - Thought I’d get some work done this morning. Not be stuck to a dick. 

 Varang guffaws with surprised laughter. Your own giggles follow. Then you stretch over to the side and fish out the data pad from the backpack Quaritch keeps it in. 

- If you truly want work, not all of it requires using your legs. - you cheekily reply, waving the device in front of his smooshed against the bedding face. He gives you an unimpressed look, but you can see a smidge of humour.

 Varang flops onto his back before he can formulate a reply, nuzzling into the back of his neck and scenting him. It makes a purr rise out of your slightly disgruntled mate. You smile at the sight before getting up and looking for things to help clean up the mess you’ve collectively made. 

 Varang softly pops out of Quaritch and takes over the task halfway through, letting him roll onto his back so she can clean the puddle of cum he had fallen down onto.

 You lazily settle halfway onto Quaritch’s chest and in the crook of his arm, idly scenting him as Varang had done with eyes half lidded while you cozy up to him. You absentmindedly watch him tap away at the data pad while Varang goes about cleaning up the mess in-between his thighs.

 It is oddly entertaining and relaxing to watch him be so focused on it, all those little micro expressions because of a magic rectangle. Up until a certain video popped up on the thin screen. All your muscles locked up the moment you saw it. Scent glands signalling your distress to your alphas with no input from you. 

 It was footage of Ye’tsa. He was stalking about in Mangkwan territory. Seems like one of Quaritch’s Sky People troops had managed to get video of him slinking around. 

 You can feel Quaritch lightly shaking you, you hear him ask what’s wrong. Varang has crouched over you and is carefully observing every tiny twitch, trying to see why you are worried. But you can’t respond to their concern.

 He followed you. Your betrothed was hunting you down. This entire time. And you didn’t even know. 

 What would’ve happened if your mates hadn’t found you that day? Would Ye’tsa have found you instead? Who are you kidding- you knew he would’ve found you. He would’ve forced you down and taken you right then and there. And then once he was done with claiming you, he would’ve dragged you back into a life you hated. 

 Your tail curls protectively around your midsection, right over where you should be carrying the first of your cubs. If Ye’tsa got to you now, would he try and beat that child out of you? Even if you aren’t sure you want a kid, the thought makes bile rise in the back of your throat.

- Is he a threat sugar? - Quaritch’s words finally get through to you. Varang is reassuringly stroking your abdomen while glaring daggers at the image of your former friend. 

- …yes… - you speak quietly. Eyes glued to the screen as if Ye’tsa would spring out of it you didn’t pay close enough attention.

- Who is he? - Varang, ever possessive, hisses. Her tail lashes behind her, you can already tell she is thinking about how exactly to cut him up. How to make him suffer.

- My betrothed. - the confession is filled with shame and guilt. Shame for even being promised to him and guilt that you didn’t tell your mates you ran from the arrangement.

 Both Varang and Quaritch still. You are anxious to see their reactions, your ears lower involuntarily.

- Then we kill him. - Varang finally spits out with malice, the very idea that you could’ve been somebody else’s infuriating to her. As well as the fact that your betrothed is now daring to try and take you back.

- Agreed. - Quaritch’s anger is less explosive than your other alpha’s. But you can see it in the set of his jaw, how his fingers tap just slightly harder at the screen. His tail still lashes the same as Varang’s.

- I want to be the one to kill him. - the conviction with which you say that startles you. But you feel like you need to do it. You don’t want to run from your past, especially when it’s come to your home, to your mates to hunt you. 

 Quaritch looks surprised, ears perked in your direction as if he’ll get an explanation of your thought process that way. It takes Varang a second, but a grin spreads over her face. You expected her to pleased with this decision. 

- Then his last breath is yours. Our brave omega. - she nuzzles her forehead against yours. Quaritch pats your hip in reassurance. You set your jaw, hoping you’ll actually be able to do what you promised. 

 The following days are ridden with anxiety. You walk around the still unfamiliar volcanic wastes of your new home, searching for a familiar face. Varang or Quaritch, sometimes both, practically glued to your side. The rest of the Mangkwan keep their eyes and ears peeled. Yet you find no traces of your betrothed. 

 He still shows up on the ‘security cameras’ Quaritch had insisted be set around the perimeter of the burnt down hometree. But you feel like that was only because Ye’tsa didn’t know what they were. You gritted your teeth. It seems that hiding away was not a skill that your old friend had lost. 

- He hasn’t shown himself because of you two. - you mutter to your mates while dissecting another video of Ye’tsa. - You hover. He is not stupid enough to fight two or three on one. 

- So what? You want us to let you go off on your own searching for this maniac? - Quaritch seems offended at the very idea of it. Varang bares her teeth, her tail lashing. 

- No. I want to plan an ambush. You stay far enough behind me for Ye’tsa to get bold, then strike at my call. - you offer your plan, unfortunately you can see your mates still apprehensive at the idea. Both glancing briefly to your belly, the unspoken implication bruises your pride. - I can hold him off! I am not weak!

- Never said you were, babe. But just…ya sure this is what you wanna do? - Quaritch’s current worry for you gets on your nerves, and his knit together eyebrows make you want to rip them off his stupidly concerned face. 

- Yes! - you hiss the words out with malice. - And if you do not agree, I will do it anyway! By myself!

- Do not be stupid! You will not go without us! - Varang gets in your face, ears facing backwards. You can see panic in her gaze, but it’s mostly covered up with anger.

- I will not if you agree to the plan. - you stand your ground, jaw set and back straight. You see your alphas give into you slowly. Quaritch hangs his head and shoulders lower, while Varang’s ears twitch as she slowly backs away.

 And that’s how you end up trekking through the ash covered expanse of Mangkwan territory alone. A ‘com unit’ sits and your neck and in your ear. Quaritch checks in periodically, but there isn’t much to update him on.

 What are you supposed to say? ‘Hey, just walked over another pile of ash.’, ‘Hopped down from a rock because of boredom and ended up sneezing up a storm.’, ‘Found more nothing.’. Seriously, what did he expect? You probably wouldn’t find your betrothed on the first day of looking. 

 And you didn’t. The gun your Sky Man gave you sat heavy and un-used the entire time you were looking. It seems either you were unlucky or Ye’tsa had managed to figure out how these weapons work and didn’t dare approach you even if your alphas were nowhere to be seen. 

 Your frustration builds the more days pass. How hard is it to locate one man in a volcanic wasteland? Your anger and anxiety involuntarily spring out at your mates. Teeth snapping at Quaritch when he tries to suggest something, tail smacking Varang when she tries to feel up your still flat stomach. 

 You see the slight hurt in their eyes whenever you push them away. But it’s hard to verbally apologise to them. So instead you nuzzle into their necks and purr as you scent them, hoping they get the message. Relief floods you every time they nuzzle back.

 One day you decide to leave the gun, grabbing a razor sharp blade in its stead. You can tell Quaritch wants to protest your decision when you begin heading out, a light hiss from Varang is enough to shut him up. 

 You set off in the direction the cameras spotted your betrothed last. Your ears twitch and perk at every little sound. At the wind moving through, at ash settling, the light tap of rocks under your feet. 

 Your spine straightens involuntarily when you feel eyes on your back. You slowly look around, trying to spot your observer. You have a white knuckled grip on the obsidian knife Varang gifted you. 

 You spot the almost familiar eyes peeking at you from behind a rock. He was trying to get the jump on you but with Ye’tsa’s cover blown he springs forth. You hold up the blade defensively, finger holding down the button of the coms as a half yell half growl escapes you.

 Your old friend tries to bowl you over using his weight while gripping your wrist. You spin around letting his own momentum send him crashing to the volcanic rock below. You purposefully aim your knee to hit him in the stomach as his hold on you forces you down him with. It knocks the wind out of Ye’tsa as he hits the ground. 

 You hear Quaritch reassuring you that they are on their way but you can’t focus on the words. Not when Ye’tsa squeezes your wrist so tight you can’t keep ahold of your weapon. You hiss violently in his face, free hand on its way to wrap around his throat. 

 You can only scratch at the skin of his neck before he snatches that hand too. Your betrothed uses his greater weight to switch your positions, pinning your hips to the ground by pushing his knee into your abdomen. 

 You instinctively try to bite him in response, hissing and growling like a wild animal as you thrash in his grip. He barely keeps his hold on you, but barely is enough.

- How dare you! - he finally hisses out. Ye’tsa’s voice startles you, it is far deeper than you remember. - I had to track you so far only for you to go and join some freaks? 

- So you have not gone mute! What a shame! - you openly and loudly mock his silence up until now. He hadn’t even spoken to you when your mother presented him as your betrothed. He grits his teeth and presses down harder at your stomach, your blood goes cold. 

- Do not mock me you little whore! - he growls, saliva dripping from his teeth like he is some wild beast. - I can smell those two all over you. Probably had them both filling you up this morning!

- And so what? Mad I went and found somebody better? Going to cry about it little Ye’tsa? - you admit that reminding him of how much of a crybaby he was when you were younger was a low blow. But so was calling you a whore. And your fear has only sharpened your words. 

- You need to be reminded of your place. - his eyes narrow, ears pin back and tail lashes when he hisses the words out. There is sadism in his gaze, he lifts up his knee. You know he is going to bring it down on your stomach. You violently jab him in the side with a leg, briefly knocking the air from him. 

 Before he can get his bearings you headbutt him, it makes your skull ring and him gasp in pain. His grip loosens, allowing you to grab his kuru, yanking at it painfully and causing his muscles to spasm, his hands instinctively flying up to try and pry your fingers off. 

- My place is where I choose! - spittle flies onto his grimacing face as you yell in barely held back rage. Your free hand comes down on his throat, squeezing with all your strength, your nails drawing blood from Ye’tsa’s skin. 

 One of his hands flies down to try and ease your grip on his neck, uselessly clawing at your wrist. You don’t let up. Seeing his struggle against you, how he can’t escape your grip or even properly kick out at you with how close your bodies are, is satisfying. 

 Seeing the supposedly skilled warrior at your mercy is delightful. He is desperately gasping for air. But then, unexpectedly, the hand that was trying to get yours away from his neck, goes for your own throat. Ye’tsa squeezes down with the same force you do. 

 Neither of you let up, no matter how painfully you twist, tug or dig your nails into his braid, he doesn’t give you an inch. You hear a yell and rapid footsteps closing in on you, you don’t really register them over trying to breathe.

 Then the stock of a rifle hits Ye’tsa in the temple and his hands drop. Five fingered hands tug you to your feet as Quaritch kicks your former friend backward. You greedily gulp in air, your body dropping backwards slightly, trusting that your alpha would support your weight. 

 Varang is already upon your former friend, one hand restraining his arms to his back while the other replaces the painful grip you had on his braid, keeping him on his knees. Both of your mates are absolutely furious, you can see it in Varang’s stance and feel it in how stiff Quaritch is against your back. 

 You lightly cough, running your fingers along your throat to feel the damage. You feel the mirrored marks from Ye’tsa’s nails. Varang hisses down at your betrothed, yanking his kuru back until his head is sat at a painful angle. Quaritch’s grip on your shoulder is steady, finger already on the trigger of his weapon. 

 You see the bastard opening his mouth, you can practically already hear the insults on his tongue. About how you still needed somebody to save you from him after all, about how in the end you are just a weak omega. You grit your teeth.

 The sound of the slap rings out before you even register you’ve moved your arm. Ye’tsa’s head already knocked to the side as you feel the sting of it. You grab his shocked face, nails digging into his already bruising cheek. Varang’s tail flicks behind her in delight.

- Knife. - you hiss the word out and hold your palm up, expecting for Quaritch to put one in your hand. You hear him pick up the dropped blade.

- Sure you don’t wanna use a gun babe? - your mate asks. Holding up the rifle within your life of sight. It takes only a scowl for Quaritch to relent and deposit the requested weapon in your palm.

 Your fingers wrap around the handle tightly. You eye your betrothed’s neck.

 You think it will be easy. Quick and impersonal, like killing an animal. You think you can do it as you press the knife against Ye’tsa's neck. 

 But then for a moment he trembles. Your eyes flick up to his, and you see him again. Not your betrothed, not a manic alpha hunting you down, not someone who wants to drag you back.

 Just...Ye’tsa. That frightful little kid who used to jump if a twig snapped anywhere near him, who flinched when he got scolded. The same boy who you used to tease for all of these traits, not knowing how much you would miss them. 

 You almost pull the knife away. Almost offer for him to join the Mangkwan, like you did. The words are right behind your teeth. 

 But you don't. You know if he did join you would never feel safe within your own nest again, even with your mates wrapped around you. Not that he even had a chance of joining, you are sure Varang would just take the opportunity to torture him. Maybe Quaritch would toss him to those ‘white coats’ he told you about after Varang was done.

 Even if you just let Ye’tsa go, scare him enough to go running back to your home clan with his tail between his legs, you would still fear for your safety. For the safety of the life growing within you. In Ye’tsa’s eyes, and those of your mother and birth clan, this child wasn’t meant to be. They’d kill it. 

 Killing him is both mercy and guaranteed safety. You know it isn't very Mangkwan of you, or very logical after what you went through because of that goddess. But you silently hope Ye’tsa finds peace with Eywa.

 You allow yourself only a brief moment to mourn and regret this moment. This didn’t have to happen. If you and your friend weren’t forced onto paths you didn’t want this wouldn’t have happened. You can almost see a hypothetical life where it didn’t.

 One where Ye’tsa is still a flighty and sensitive soul, one where you were allowed to be the warrior you’ve always wished to be. You can see yourself becoming mates with Ye’tsa in that sort of life. But that didn’t happen. And even if it did, you are sure some part of your soul would miss Varang and Quaritch, even if you never met them.

 So you take a deep breath, steady your blade, and remind yourself that this Ye’tsa isn’t somebody you can afford to mourn. Especially with your current circumstances.

 You slit his throat violently.

 A guttural yell escapes you, his blood sprays both you and the hard ashen ground. It feels cathartic, like cutting invisible ropes binding you. Varang's grip on his arms relents and he drops forward, uselessly clutching at the wound. 

 He gurgles on the blood. You can hear him trying to breathe through it. You wait for him to die. You shouldn't be waiting, this should've killed him quickly. It was supposed to.

 Instead now you're watching your childhood friend die slowly, choking on his own blood right in front of you. The red slips through his fingers slowly.

 No...no no no...this was supposed to be as quick and painless as possible... Did you fuck up the cut? Miss the artery? You should’ve taken up Quaritch’s offer of the gun. A bullet to the head would’ve guaranteed a quick death.

 You can't move. Can't help. Can't put him out of his misery. Despite how much you want to try and staunch the blood yourself, or grab the rifle from Quaritch and put an end to this. You just watch Ye’tsa writhe and tremble. He looks betrayed and absolutely terrified. Terrified of you.

 You don't react as Varang brings your hands to his kuru and positions your blade to sever it. She is praising you for killing him, for making him suffer. You don’t know how to feel in response to that.

- Cut it off. Take your first trophy. - Varang's encouragement makes your ears ring. This is what being part of the Mangkwan means. Every true Mangkwan has cut off at least one braid. You shouldn’t be an outsider after this.

 You look down at the scared boy, no longer a warrior in your eyes. You hope this stops his misery as you force your blade through the hair, flesh and nerves. 

 He can't scream. 

 You convince yourself it's because there was no need to. His body twitches upon the rock. You convince yourself it's just death throes, that you haven’t made his suffering worse. That you didn’t just condemn him to a fate worse than death.

 Varang tosses the still gushing blood braid over you like it's a cape or a necklace. Her smile is bright and beaming. A similar one twitches onto your face despite the maelstrom of differing emotions.

 Part of you is happy. Happy that your past won’t be hunting you down anymore. Happy that you found a place that fits you. The other is horrified at what you just did to your friend. You try to remind yourself your friend died a long time ago, that who you fought today wasn’t the Ye’tsa you remember.

 Quaritch pats you on the back, one hand settling on your hip and squeezing in reassurance. You grab Varang's elbow and pull her closer, until you can hide your head under her chin, trying to keep the twitching corpse out of your sight.

 Your other hand pulls Quaritch into your back. His arms wraps around the both of you when he settles his head on your shoulder. 

- It...it is finally over... - you whisper, a hint of a manic giggle gracing the edges of your sentence. - I am...free...

- Yes, you are. - Varang reassures you, scratching behind your ears and laying a gentle kiss on your forehead.

- Sure are babe, sure are. - Quaritch echoes Varang's words in his own way. A cautious purr rises from you. The sound strengthening as its echoed by your mates.

 Your hand softly settles on your lower abdomen. For the first time, the idea that there is something growing there is comforting to you. Your mates have your back. Now you can only hope that you can continue being strong enough to protect the fragile little thing like you did today.

 Maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright. 

_______________

And here is part 2! This is not usually how I write the order of things, as my usual readers probably noticed, but I couldn’t fit the smut at the end like usual. It just made Ye’tsa’s death feel…un-impactful. So I swapped some parts around. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this continuation! P.S. I don't think the title makes more sense in this part.

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