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“Don’t touch that!”
A boy in fine robes says shrilly as a slime covered hand reaches out to touch his face. Playfully squealing, a hand grabs the corner of his cloak to wrap it tightly around his body as he runs around a large tree. Using the bark as a shield from the gross limb, the chaser snorts in amusement, making a show of fake running forward, shifting to swing backwards to catch the other running youth.
The two same height figures bump into each other, tripping over the other’s feet and rolling onto the forest floor. The second boy does not have an ornamented cape instead dressed in simple leathers and a sturdy pair of hunter’s boots.
Finally finished in their rolling and teasing; the finely clothed boy has his back on the lush grass whereas the one dressed as a commoner is on top, staring down at the fragile being. Brown eyes lock with another pair. The same pair of lips are parted to gather breath. Flushing from contentment the identical faces look at each other.
Calloused hands braced on the earth, feeling the delicateness of the strands of grass. The shade of the tree protects them from the unforgiving rays of the sun, pale complexions would burn under the light of midday.
“Black?” The boy on the bottom asks the one on top.
“It’s nothing White.” Black dismisses as he pushes himself off of his younger twin. Boots crunching the leaves under his feet as he marches off. The softness from earlier fades away.
White looks disheartened; missing their prior closeness. In the last few years Black has distanced himself from White, hiding his thoughts and his heart from the other half of his soul. The brothers had been thicker than a cord of rope and now some days White feels as if their cottage is purely his.
Black moving like a spectre, returning with their food but otherwise leaving White alone for long hours. At first the shift had felt dramatic but now he is mostly used to it, but he will never really accept it.
The way they had been forced to leave their old home and make a new one in this large forest, at least a days journey from the nearby village. Black is the one who commands their only horse, White has a vague recognition of how they acquired it. Taking the gentle beast the same night, they had disappeared from their old home, using the shadows to veil their escape.
If White remembers correctly that was also the last time Black let White willingly cling to his back. Black indulges him on the dewy seasons now otherwise the compassionate twin lives in a state of winter.
White’s hand glazes over the dead grass, feeling the crushed blades under his soft skin. Krachiao sprout under his careful touches, after a dutiful rain the blooms would change and grow to support the lovely purple tulips.
He leaves the area to finish his chores, the herbs and vegetables must be readied. Black has most likely set out to capture some meat, their earlier supply is empty. White brushes a few strands of hair from his face, the cloak is removed from around his throat. He is not cold nor does he want it to become tangled in the foliage.
Humming to himself he takes the basket and sets about his task, carefully pulling the herbs he needs and unearthing the food staples. He can hear the sounds of the forest, the birds chattering to each other, the footsteps of the four-legged animals, the familiar scents drifting to his nose. It comforts him. White can pretend he is not completely alone, he has friends.
Pulling at a stubborn stem, he tugs with all his might, ripping it out to the root, the momentum thrusts him backwards, the boy lands on his butt. Head tipped backwards to sigh in annoyance. Holding the plant with the spotted leaves up to see the damage. Thankfully it is intact and now he can begin to grind it down.
“Did the mean plant hurt you?” Black’s voice asks from behind White.
The twin strains his neck and sees his older brother, knelt down on one knee. A little smirk of his face and a fattened hare in his grip. Smiling White waits for the older brother to offer his hand, which is given to him. Black pulling him from the ground. The same faced boys walk off with their spoils, going to where their horse is waiting. Although the pony is not tall, the strong body is powerful enough to hold both their weights. Waking through the uneven terrain without complaint, Black rides in front while White holds his waist loosely. Mindful of how his brother dislikes touch.
“Where’s your cloak?” Black questioned. Taking it as Black making small talk, White tells him where it is hidden. The older guides the horse in the right direction.
The sun is setting when the pair are eating their dinner that night around the campfire; Black is poking at the fire with a sharp stick. White is on the log, the cloak is laying on the ground, Black has spread the heavy scent of Galangal all over the fabric. The strain of ginger is milder to the nose while holding an earthy scent. It is what White now associates to his brother. Even though they both have hints of citrus, each night Black performs this ritual of masking White’s scent. Shielding them from any nose that might cross the forest. In five years, White hasn’t seen anyone other than his brother, no other human.
White picks the fabric from the grass, sitting beside his brother, he drapes it over them. Keeping the chill off their slender shoulders. Black appears lost in thought again, White rolls his head to lay on Black’s shoulder, releasing a low whine. Much like he did when they were merely little boys, playing under their parents eyes.
Black ruffles his hair but gives into his demands. Taking the Khlui from his belt, beginning to play the familiar melody. White shuts his eyes listening to it, the ease of where Black places his fingers and the notes. White who has never touched the instrument believes he too could play this song from how often Black has done so.
The friendly boy can’t remember where they once heard it, deep in his suppressed memories he has some concept of someone using the flute. White gets to his feet, moving like water to take his first position, his arms raising into the air. He dances along to the music, his steps small and subtle.
The memories are more like dreams, since his past visions had shown both Black and White carrying out this dance, but now it is him alone who spins. White recalls how his mother had once held them close as boys, whispering to them about the time of their delivery. She would pull the twins closer as she said who was born first.
Black under the moon’s gaze, the elder sibling pulled tightly to her breast. About her happiness at a strong son, the exhaustion fading in the excitement; to then hours later birthing another smaller child. One blessed by the sun.
Black the child born into the unforgiving night, powerful and healthy. White who was sickly and small entered the world at the safest time, with the life-giving rays chasing away death and their cruelties.
Growing up it had seemed as if Black was the only child who had mattered, as the elder he was the one who held the obligations to grow stronger and smarter, in contrast White was granted the permission to exist, to swim in the water and play in the tall shrubs.
His mother was more likely to call him Black and his father had referred to both twins by the title of boy. Younger they had shared hobbies and mannerisms which were exact, interchangeable to a scary degree, however at nineteen White wouldn’t have been able to play a convincing Black nor would his brother fool anyone in his own disguise.
“Black…” White starts to say but the older holds his hand up.
White strains his ears to hear and for a solid minute he believes the other must have imagined the noise until he too can hear the pounding of hooves. The snapping of twigs and the massacring of the leaves and other shorter plant life.
Panicking he grasps his brother’s wrist tightly. Looking to him for guidance and reassurance, but as the shouting gets louder, he watches the thought pass through his brother’s eyes before it settles into a resolve.
Black brings his fingers to his mouth and whistles. The horse comes at his signal from its feeding place. Black cups his hands to lift White onto the creature’s back, White expects his brother to slide behind him. Instead, the cloak is pulled over his head, covering his form and hiding his face.
There is no time for White to verbalize his confusion at Black’s actions because his twin gives a firm swat to the horse’s rear. Fingers spread wide to cover more surface area, his palm stinging smartly. Causing the beast to race off, leaving the campsite and Black behind. The horse leading where it thinks it will be safest. White wants to scream; to force the steed to turn back; to gather Black up and escape together.
If it worked once than what was stopping them from doing so again?
But this time Black had made a different decision, let White run to safety while he stood his ground.
White can’t see where he is heading, his face concealed by the horse’s hair and tears falling from his eyes and blurring his vision.
He hears his brother shouting at the unknown marauders. Drawing all eyes and focus on himself to let White disappear in the chaos.
Like a coward, too weak to put up any fight.
POV Change
Black watches the last sights of the gold stitching of the cloak disappear into the darkness. In his soul he knows this is goodbye. He will never see his mirror again. But he has to protect his brother.
Climbing the tree he is waiting, anticipating what is to come. The lone rider who attempts to sneak up on them. Descending onto the man’s horse. He slits the robber’s throat and shoved his body to the ground. Commanding the creature as if it was his own.
Black waits for their home to be raided, little of value inside now that the occupants are separated. The group goes to recircle together, the leader muttering under his breath about this being a waste, under the moon it is hard to distinguish facial features so Black has a few spare seconds to pull the vial from his pocket. The men around him see the imposter at the same time but it is too late for them. Black is standing on the higher metaphoric ground. A great gust of breath leaves his throat to send the crushed powder into the airspace of the bandits.
He lingers to make sure they all are dead. Their black clothing and cheap armor made him think they might have been deserters from an army but that is only a guess. Tawi had been causing unrest in the north, a large army amassing and covering more territory each day or at least that was the gossip amongst the common people.
The northern folk claimed him as a benevolent figurehead, the person who stepped in when the king and queen had been murdered by the captain of the guard. The regent was unforgiving in the annihilation of the guilty parties. Leaving the castle in a bloodbath.
The story was the prince had been taken hostage, nearly executed in a rebel village, thankfully Tawi found him before it could happen. Since then, the uncle had sat on the throne to keep his younger nephew safe. Black saw it for what it was. One royal screwing another over for the throne.
But it wasn’t his problem.
The rich could eat each other for all Black cared.
Kindness was weakness in Black’s mind.
The sharp sting of metal against his neck, paused his movement. A sword ready to sever his connection with the land of the living should Black act foolishly.
A gravelly voice barked out orders in a language Black had no hope of understanding. Judging by the tone, he is being threatened and there is now a group of men unarming him. One jerks the knife from his belt. Black snapping his teeth at the gloved hand. The swordsman yanks Black’s hair back, exposing more of his throat.
The small body is patted down, checked for hidden weapons and unfortunately for Black; he is naked without any other form of steel on him. His arms are bound behind his back, the ropes cutting the tender flesh around his wrists up to his forearms. Black kicks his feet, struggling to harm the larger and more experienced bodies. However, despite his rage and blood lust; he can’t kill anymore people tonight, the tides have shifted. Leaving him stranded in the water. The boy is tossed roughly into a wooden carriage.
He spits at the one guard who attempts to touch him.
Using the only word he knows of the northern language.
“Dog.” Black curses out.
Getting a spike in the man’s scent. Anger clouding around the alpha’s body and he smells the garden of the other men too. Body odours covered by all the men getting angry with him, the hatred they feel for him murdering the other group.
A decoy Black fumes, throwing his body against the carriage walls, doing nothing but bruising his skin. The structure is stronger than Black and like the direction they move in, Black’s fate is unknown.
But it will take time and Black has very little of that. He can already feel the sweat running down his cold back, and the scent of nature is fading faster than Black desired. He can either get himself killed faster or escape.
It would be up to his captors. He has three days before all choice is taken from him.
The first few hours of travel go by rather quickly. Watching the moon shift from behind the paper window. The steady sounds of horses and the nattering of soldiers, the unknown words grade against his mind. Black has no way of knowing the topic, they could be planning his fate or one could be complaining about needing to piss.
It’s frustrating.
The carriage slows to a crawl and the voices get louder and more plentiful. Black’s eyes are heavy, his thoughts are blurring under the heat he feels, the lack of water might be catching up to him and now he is under siege from the many scents.
Beta and alpha scents flood his nostrils. It makes his head swim. He grits his teeth, wiggling his wrists to force the ropes to bite into his skin, the pain gives him a focus point. Keeps the unravelling strings of his thoughts tangled. The door is opened abruptly and Black growls low and dangerously.
Awaiting to see who will attempt to drag him out but after a few seconds no one approaches the doorway. He pushes himself off the ground, hands supporting his weight and legs sprawled out. Not foolish enough to take the bait. To run into the waiting arms of his captors who will grab him once he leaves the tight confines of the carriage.
He is the fisherman holding the net, not the unsuspecting fish swimming around. The youth buzzing as he waits; will fight and bite any soldier who enter this space, will go to war with those supposed holy men who reek of incense. The disgusting mixture of unwashed bodies and perfumed odours fills the space.
Hopefully it will cover his own scent.
However, it is not a burly alpha who grows tired of the waiting game and goes to strongarm Black from the wooden box. Nor is it a priest thinking to instill holy knowledge on Black. In fact, it is not a man at all who comes to remove Black from the man-made cage.
But a tiny little cusp of a girl, her head is meekly bowed and she couldn’t have weight much despite the long flowing robes. The bright colours make her look like a recently bloomed flower, the stem not able yet to support the large, and heavy petals about to come. Her long brown hair is pulled and tightly twisted around her head. Tanned complexion is a healthy caramel hue. Black’s eyes want to soften under the pressure of her doe eyes. The large frighten orbs of a cornered bird. Her hands shake as she inches closer to him but still keeps a healthy distance with his growling. The sound trails off, his ears hear her own pitiful whimpers of fear, the quick heartbeat and underneath the scent of her robes. Black can smell it.
The sweet scent of fresh jasmine.
The trembling hand goes to touch him. Black swings, locking her arm between his legs and catching her completely off guard. She screams in terror, loudly and high pitched. Her scent is stronger around her wrist and Black breathes deeply. Underneath the scent of an alpha, a sibling or parents probably. There is the smell of a newly presented omega.
They sent him a little pup to feast upon.
There is a commotion outside of the carriage. Someone else barks orders but no footsteps. One voice still screams unknown words. The girl’s head tilts to hear the voice better but her large eyes stay on Black unable to break contact. She is petrified and Black uses his larger form to force her to the ground, his legs pining the younger girl. Trapping her.
A sniffle leaves her chest, Black is still a threat even without his hands or a common tongue. Her eyes flood with tears. Black gets off the oversized child. Even if he was hungry, he would want a meal not the scraps this girl would provide. Staggering he gets to his feet. Shoulder hitting the enclosure and the world dances before his eyes. Closing his eyes does nothing to stop the spinning but he pushes forward.
The child in his shadow. His next tumble is prevented by her grasping his larger form, letting him lean against her. Her body can barely keep them both from falling and her soft voice calls for aid. The few steps to get to the entrance of the waggon. Heavy boot stomp to the sides and blinking under the sun’s rays, Black sees the men dressed under a coat of arms. The family house Black has some tidbits of but otherwise is green.
He sees the faces of young and elderly. The experienced and the learning; religious and militant; the large number of alphas in the courtyard with a smaller number of betas. What he does not expect is the sprinkling of omegas. Females but still the weaker dynamic. One maid comes to Black’s side, well the side held by the girl. Given the shared features Black was willing to bet this was an elder sibling. An older solider with a straight back is the one to hold his other upper arm. Tearing him away from the girls. Black flashes his fangs and gets a pair shown to him in return.
A slow clap defuses the situation. Black’s eyes track to follow the sound and see a taller boy around his own age sitting on a throne. The man is dripping in wealth, jewels and gold are stitched into the silk fabric, the fine sword on his hip. The crown around the twisted face’s head. The royal is smirking at Black, laughing at his plight.
Black bares his teeth at the audacious figure, struggling to get away from the grunt holding him. Kicking and hissing, sees the way the northerns view him as a rabid animal, little intelligence and correspondingly filthy. Black hadn’t noticed in the woods, the way dirt clings to his clothing or has made itself at home under his nails, the flecks of blood hidden in the curves of his body.
Here the royals are spotless and smell of soaps, the cleanness is another sign of corruption, wasted funds on frivolous baths. People were starving and this puppet is mocking him. Walking closer to him without a hint of fear, only amusement.
Black is the captured tiger, who might be turned into a cape or worse, a mounted head. A display of an imaginary battle, in reality the grounds had been closed off and Black was brought forth for the royal to slaughter. An unfair fight, but a wonderful tale to spin at future events.
Pale hand lifts into the air and everyone sinks to the ground, kneeling and bowing out of respect. Black’s own weaken body can’t force his knees not to buckle and bend. He is able to keep his head up, not cowering like the others, Prideful and defiant eyes stab into the taller man, the foil to Black’s soul.
The king walks calmly to Black, his cloak floats over the cobblestones, the gold in the dyed fabric reflects under the sun’s rays, making the man look as if he departed from the eternal realm, the fragrance on the superior silk is that of muted ginger, the material brushes Black’s face as the other bends down to him. Crouching down on one knee to see Black.
The dark eyes devour his body, a hand reaches out to touch his face and Black breaks, head jutting forward to bite the hand, it recoils and the smirk grows bolder. Black doesn’t blink as he watches the other get to his feet. There is a sword dangling from his hip. The jewelled handle is for show rather than combat but with enough force anything can be drove through tender flesh. Black is a ball of ever-growing rage on a good day and at this moment not even an immortal can escape his wrath.
Smooth hand pulls the sword from its sheath. Black braces himself for the swing, it does not come. Instead, the other walks in the opposite direction. Coming farther away from the masses of devotees.
He thrusts the thin blade into the fertile soil, the lush dirt spilling over the sides. Garnets and Rubies are embossed on the hilt. He tracks the other’s actions, waiting to see what the sword is to be used for. However, the rich youth doesn’t give any words to the onlookers. Coming back to stand in front of Black. A quick motion has Black flinch and the gleam of a blade comes to strike him. Black’s eyes have neither time to widen nor to shut. With a rapid flash Black’s bindings are cut, the sharp metal slicing through them like wet parchment.
The man barks out an order and the guard releases Black’s arm, letting the boy fall forward, the rogue uses his weak arms to stop his tumble. His arms shake under the strain but he refuses to act like a weaken puppy.
The royal surveys Black, leaning back on his haunches, relaxed. Pushing himself up, Black levels him a glare and his imprisoner laughs. It’s a pleasant sound to the ears, he sounds youthful and content.
The plump lips part and one word escapes the rich man’s mouth, a finger used to give context.
“Race.”
Black blinks at him in surprise, not knowing how the other could know his tongue let alone such a word. A finger extended to point to the blade. The end of where the race would be.
Black sees how the crowd moves away to give them space, fearful of being involved in whatever farse this is. However, Black does not have that luxury.
He takes one last look at the spoiled youth, fingers curling into the ground. Throwing a fistful of dirt, he hurls it in the royal man’s face, blinding him for an instant. Black races off, unexpecting to be tackled within the next moment; He rolls under the added weight, snarling at the man above him. He punches the other boy, feeling his knuckles break. The soft cheek fattens under the force.
The alpha above him growls, with his own roll. Black knees him to get back to his feet. But the larger figure is fast and not effected from the growing heat in Black’s body. Tripping over an uneven part of the trail, Black falls to his knees. The alpha kicking him sharply in the ribs. Black goes farther down. The robe is wrapped around Black’s fist and the monarch claws at the ties, feeling himself be choked. People gasp in horror and it makes Black proud to force the other into the ground. But his target is fighting dirty. Biting Black’s arm, making him give up his hold. The alpha rolls them and pins Black’s arms down. Black howls, the last slamming of his back had hurt, he knows he is bruised, maybe even bleeding. The man above him doesn’t pause and Black knows he has lost.
Glaring he awaits his fate.
The alpha brings his nose close to Black’s hair, disgusted Black shifts away from the other. Wiggling his wrists and trying to break the hold of the bigger hands. A deep purr comes from the victor’s chest, which causes Black to stop moving.
He doesn’t think he’s heard such a sound before but something about it calls to the boy, the vibrations in his own chest which echo the noise. The way the dictator’s scent thickens the air. Makes it harder for Black to breathe and he has to open his mouth to get air.
The alpha’s eyes grow heavy and they half close as his face gets closer to Black. The pressing of lips takes Black for a shock, freezing him for a second before his brain realizes what is happening.
An alpha is kissing him.
Pinned and poached him.
Again.
Black bites the lips harshly, tearing the fragile skin. There is no weapon handy this time but Black sharp teeth should send a message.
But instead of rage, the man smiles joyfully.
A sting of words is uttered and Black is lost until he hears one, the last word.
“Black.”
His name said with confidence and almost companionship. As if the two have met before and share a bond.
He says nothing more as Black shouts out insults and curses. Black stops in one instant.
Fangs bite into the tender skin of his collar. Breaking the flesh, blood pours from the wound, and a female voice screams in fright. Black is rendered immobile. Instinct of the claim, rippling through his body, slackened and mouth open. He is kissed again, his own blood coats his tongue mixed with the alpha’s.
When the other releases his lips.
A hand points to the broad chest.
“Todd.”
Todd stands and Black is tugged along, a cape, Todd’s cloak is swung around Black’s shoulders and the ties are knotted around his throat. The scent covers Black’s.
The scent is familiar, as it should be because Black has spent nearly half a decade mimicking it. The stitching is the same as well. Black brings the fabric to his nose to check again. It is the same scent.
But that is impossible.
“He is mine.” Todd announced. Voice loud and domineering. Talons burrow into the skin around Black’s wrist, not unlike a tick; going under the skin and straight to his bloodstream to contaminate his body. Will make its way to his brain.
Black can already feel the effects of the bite; the way his body relaxes in Todd’s hold, allowing the other to guide him away without a fight. Even his aching wounds do not hurt as greatly as they should.
It’s an emotional manipulation instance, the alpha is using Black’s heat idled mind and nose to get what he wants. One more way to get his desires, Black falling into line like an addition of his minions.
Black growls and brings his free arm up again to strike at Todd’s unsuspecting face. A scream echoes through the courtyard but his fist does not make contact. Todd catching the weakened limb, it is in reality not even close to his target, brain fogged and obstructing his vision.
His sight swimming before his eyes. The shade of night covering more space with each blink, the courtyard disappears and his knees buckle. Todd caught him, embracing him tightly. Possessively, squeezing the air from his lungs. A cobra to Black’s mongoose.
The omega can’t escape the hold, with closed eyes, his head rests on Todd’s boney shoulder; teeth inches away from the vital veins. However, he knows the bite would be a fool’s endeavor, sharp as his teeth were, his body was soft to swords or spears.
Killing a king would get him a much worse fate.
Todd muttered something softly into Black’s hair but he can only really make out the word dog.
Was the man calling him a mutt? Insinuating Black as some flea-bitten thing, pathetic and in need of a protector, someone to provide for him. As if Black is incapable of doing so himself and have done so, for both him and White.
What purpose did an alpha serve if Black could do the same things faster?
A heavy pendant is placed around Black’s neck, the alpha shifting his position to carry the other. The omega’s feet not making contact with the ground and his arms placed to hold Todd’s body. He feels like a helpless pup. Relying on another for protection and safety. He has not done this since that night, before he presented.
He swore to never do so again.
Todd marches out of the courtyard to the beautiful palace; the architecture is breath-taking and the colours are vibrant. The carvings and statues, tapestries. All held a precise skill and beauty, Black had not seen before, unlikely would have seen. His village while rich in resources, had little in terms of riches or superficial decorations. Heavy unnecessary items built purely for selfish reasons. It made sense for so many to be gathered in this building of opulence and laziness.
Black can feel the stares upon his back as he is carried, like a conquered bride. The humiliating label thrusted upon him by the unknown servants who scurry away the second they realize they are not wanted or needed.
Little rats in fine clothes.
The doors are held open, Todd waltzing into the space which was covered in his scent, filled with material goods chosen by the young ruler. Black feels the hairs on his body stand up while being in the center of what is essentially Todd’s den. The doors closed behind them, sealing them in the space.
Black digs his nails into the taller man’s clothes. Todd places Black on the one low bench, letting the other recline in comfort. Black runs his tongue over his cut lip, tasting the copper. Todd bops his nose with a single finger, that cursed smirk still on his features. Staring down at Black, a hand blindly grasps a stray piece of cloth off the table and secures a single piece of ice in the silk fold. Pressing it carefully to the bruises on Black’s face.
The cold is soothing and shocking on his heated skin but fortunately he can contain his flinch from the temperature change. Ripping the fabric from the other man’s hold, he presses it to his own skin. Todd saunters away with all the grace of a butterfly.
With a small twirl Todd’s back falls onto the humongous bed, dead center with his arms spread wide. Wiggling to get further up the mountain of blankets and cloud pillows, the space so large it could house an entire family and still have more room to boast of.
Eyes closed; Todd leaves himself vulnerable to Black. The omega could beat him to death, pierce him with a number of items, or smother him in the very bed he lays on. However, the alpha shows no signs of caring. Content in the cushions.
Black staggers to his feet, the ice has melted and left his face with a dampness he wishes to wipe away. The small omega gets to the alpha but the man doesn’t stand, he puts his arms behind his head and gazes up at Black.
Challenging and taunting him.
Black climbs over him. Pelvis to hips, Black slithers up, seeing the injuries he has left on Todd, can smell his own scent on the alpha. They keep eye contact despite Black wrapping his clammy hands around the alpha’s throat. Ready to take the breath from his body.
Todd’s eyes show no mark of fear if anything they challenge him to do more, to finish him off. Waiting to see if Black will kill him.
Black sees the heal scar in his eyebrow. One might claim it to be the only flaw on the perfect face, the mystery around how it could have happened but Black knows.
Dirty, uneducated and foreign little Black.
Knows it wasn’t the blunt handle of a blade, the corner of a shield or any form of a real weapon. It did not happen on a battle field nor in a training circle.
It happened in a secluded corner of a now burned down village under the moon’s enigmatic protection. Two boys who are more children than youths but it does not stop them. Todd is not the one who had pulled the other to the secret corner with the idea of seeing the moon. Leaving White behind in the house, for once the elder twin wanted one private memory and who better than the boy they had pulled from the water?
Todd as Black has now discovered was the fleeing half drowned boy, the two had found floating in the water. Both jumping in to save him, Black recalls the way Todd’s head rested on his shoulder as they swam to shore. The twins share his weight between their bodies, swimming against the tide. Black can hear the way White struggles under the added weight and that is why Black carries the unknown boy’s head. Should he cling to anyone it will be Black, leaving White a chance to get away.
When they reach the shore, the half-drowned boy is dropped and the figure rolls to his side, hacking up a pitcher’s worth of water, his breathing still sounds bad but death appears to have left the youth. The twins realize as the other hacks; about how he is dressed, torn clothing aside, he wears nothing of their people, he has the markings of a northerner. Made clearer by the words dripping from his lips.
Black wants to abandon him, they saved him. It was enough let the boy survive on his own merits but White is soft hearted. Begging his twin for help, together they nurse the boy back to health. Pretty pendant and heavy cloak aside. The boy is charming.
With his limited tongue he observes more than he speaks but Black can remember the ringing of his laughter, the weight in his smiles. The way Todd fit between the pair as they walked through the forests, the times they would race each other in the water. The soft hands Todd used while interacting with White.
All of it endeared Black to his enemy, the horse had followed the sound of its master’s music. Todd had played the Khlui for them at night, around the fires, the twins would dance or listen but they were there.
The trio trying to teach their language to their friends.
Names had been the only clear knowledge passed on; however, the joys and happiness didn’t need words to experience. Black felt a connection when his eyes met Todd’s, the way the two could see the world around them.
Black thought they were the same.
Two nobodies existing in a world set to make life challenging.
Poor people who wouldn’t be missed if the moon hid the sun.
Black had cherished those moments and memories more than he would ever say aloud.
It was what compelled him to tug the boy into a corner. To have them standing an inch apart, scandalously close, on the edge of impropriety but in the shadows, right and wrong are so hard to discern.
Black can say he was foolish not to know the signs, but being so young, he had yet to actively know what heat drove him to do. To seek out touch of those who made him safe and loved.
Todd?
Did Black feel loved by Todd?
The pair of lips on his own was a shock to the system but the scent of alpha had been a bigger betrayal. Todd must have been a few months older than Black because his scent was not that of a surprise rut, no this was a natural musk. One based on an emotional change. It made sense why Todd liked the water more than normal and bathed so often. He was washing away his scent.
Black has his lips pressed against Todd’s, with the other boy’s hand caressing his face. It should be a sweet moment and it would have been had not a few factors happen at the exact time.
One he can smell a sweetness linked to the fresh scent of omega.
Two he hears the panicked screams of his fellow villagers.
Three the shouts of northerner riders.
Four the smells of burning buildings.
Fifth he has no idea where his brother is.
Black has one thought after this string. Grabbing the musical instrument tucked into Todd’s belt. He smacks the boy in the face, a little over dramatic but he doesn’t ponder over it. Running away to find his brother in the chaos. The horse is in White’s clutches and Black makes his brother get on it. Hours later, he realizes the cloak is in his hold. Slung around his lap, he had slipped the Khlui into his own belt.
Black had all but robbed Todd.
But once the cloak is brought to his nose. It stills his racing heart.
His heat started a few hours after the twins fled into the night, White’s started two days after that.
Twins share everything.
“I’ll kill you.” Black tells him.
Todd won’t understand his words but the meaning is there. Todd still seems unbothered, no shifting of emotions.
“Black.” Todd purrs, his chest rumbling.
Black rolls off Todd, landing on his side. He is too tired for Todd’s shit. He just wants to sleep. The pillows are his sirens of the waves of sleep. Black drifts off to the ghost feeling of someone brushing his hair.
When Black awakes, he is in the middle of heat and his head is resting on Todd’s naked chest. His own body is nearly unclothed, top removed and leathers discarded for comfort. A part of Black wants to close his eyes and go back to sleep but the larger part is awake and in need of violence.
Acting on that urge; he shoves Todd down and tries to smother him with a pillow. Guards burst in when Todd has gotten out of his hold and is the one restraining him. Todd wearing only his small clothes and Black matches him in terms of undress. The soldiers divert their eyes so as not to gaze upon their ruler’s omega. Black curses the other man out.
Todd smiling fondly at him, turning his head to bark out orders.
Food arriving shortly after.
Black eats and sees Todd get dressed. Black waiting for the man to leave, will barricade the door or stab the other man if he tries to take liberties with his body. Black is not helpless, nor is he an idiot about the wants of alphas.
Black will kill before he lets the other force him into a marriage bed. He is no flower to be plucked.
For two days Black is left alone in the bed chamber. Food delivered to the door but no alpha enters the space. The heat getting stronger, the symptoms driving him mad, the urges to be filled, to be bred.
It had never felt like this before.
If he had White than Black had thoughts of protecting his weaker twin, seeing to his comfort. The twins could sleep through it, cuddling and sharing their scented furs. But in Todd’s bedding he feels nothing but empty. Cold and unwanted as the hours go by.
The little omega maid comes to bring him water and draw a bath. He nearly rips her arms off as he threatens her. Calling Todd’s name over and over for her to get the message. In a frighten scramble she goes, leaving him beside the bed.
Dripping and dying.
Todd comes into the room a while later, stalking the area like a bird of prey. Circling around Black and evading his hands when the omega goes to him. It started to get annoying when he bangs his hip against the desk. Collapsing to the ground the omega pretends to be distraught whining pitifully.
The alpha pauses long enough for Black to jump him. Securing his form to the ground. The smaller boy pins the alpha down, the pendant hanging between their faces.
“Alpha asshole.” Black curses under his breath.
Threading his fingers in Todd’s hair he kisses the alpha. Violently shoving his tongue into the man’s mouth. Niceties are for those not dying of lust.
Todd laughs at his desperation but picks the boy off the ground and tosses him in to the messy sheets. The bed starts to smell of their combined scents and sweat.
But the intense heat ends and for that Black will not slit Todd’s throat but he doesn’t have to like the shameless bastard.
POV Change
Sean is with his friends planning what to do about Tawi and his people. The rumors were that the monarch was hidden away on his sickbed, leaving his heir in charge. The heir in question was the one whose throne Tawi had sat his lazy ass on and refused to move. The last five years had his handwriting all over it, the decrees and pillaging which his subjects were forced to endure so this royal could enlarge his treasure hall.
People were punished for speaking out against him, for voicing doubts or concerns about the poverty in the society. Beheaded or imprisoned for a string of words, the rare show of defiance. But Sean and the gang were going to overthrow him. Regardless of the ruler’s health, it was time to slice the diseased limb from the body. The rhetoric might have been about how Tawi was the essential hand but the gang saw him for what he really was, a parasite.
Leeching off the works and deeds of others, gorging himself and those in his inner circle. There was no guarantee of the prince being a better figurehead but hopefully the people would be more willing to fight if they saw one successful dethroning. To see the power in numbers and the unwillingness to allow some rich person to grind them into the soil.
They met in a secluded part of the forest, stowed away by the thick branches of the trees and the dense shrubs, voices hushed and faces covered by fabric. Another tool to protect their identities; they had all sworn to suicide should they be captured, averse to exposing their friends. Their families were also at risk, but Sean had no one left. Tawi had seen to that five years ago.
Without an item to his name, Sean had walked in his cinder covered clothing; his feet blistering and his body covered in scratches from the terrain. In his delirious state he was discovered by Yok, another boy who was practicing his hunting skills. Foraging for a meal, the winter had taken Yok’s father and left his mother mute. The poor woman had been pitied by the other villagers but no one was willing to give her aid. Focusing on their own situations and families.
The pair had taken Sean in, nursing him through the grief-stricken fever and his mad ramblings. It forged a bond that blood could not compete with. They unified over their situations and along the way Gram and Gumpa had joined them. The once scholar and the disheartened soldier.
Gumpa had left his position of command due to the cruelty he had seen, the once passing man had stopped once he realized there were others who shared his thoughts. Gram had come by later, a failed scholar, not because he lacked the brain to be one but as a young man who had no connections to the upper crust, he had no web to travel on. Left to scurry amongst the earth to be stomped on. He saw how the hypocrisy was rampant and the injustice of the law.
The three young men burned with rage at the failings of their world, the uneven scale in which they are judged by. Willing to be the ones to question the truthfulness of the feather, the purity of human hearts.
Tonight, they would strike one of Tawi’s places of tax collection. Burn the building down; to leave their marks on the extravagant structure. A huge waste of the funds; the loot would then be hidden and distributed in four different directions, slowly dispersing the funds throughout the areas but not in a big show as that would leave evidence of the missing money, could get the innocent convicted.
They were thinking of burning down the structure or bashing the support beams, the longest part was getting information on when it would be empty. The less people who were inside; meant fewer would be injured or killed.
Then Gram asked if they should wait until the moon festival. The one was coming up, a single night where the sun would eclipse the moon. Once every ten years this festival was celebrated, people gathering around to watch and party under the extra rays and warmth. It was a highly spiritual time.
The only other celebration with the same regard was the red moon.
However, where the eclipse was seen as a holy and pure time. The red moon could not boast the same. The blood moon was a time of depravity, whispered to be when ghosts and ghouls walked amongst the people. Stealing the living away to the underworld or eating them in the land of the living. Ripping and destroying all the ties of human life. Crimes increased, people lost their inhibitions and the lucky locked themselves in thick-walled houses. Holding their loved ones close, prayers and charms lined the area. A paltry attempt to ward off the demons.
Red moons were seen as an act against nature, a way to break the natural flow. But nature fought against the wickedness, and there is one fact that can not be changed even by the gods. Just as death is inevitable, the cycle must start.
Birth can not be controlled by will nor order.
Children were born during the red moon, brought into the world. The common belief being that by giving a newborn to the world, it gave the ghouls a form to inhabit. The child was no longer part of this domain. The soul devoured and the body stolen.
If one might get lucky than some traces could remain for a few hours but then they were lost. The beasts would contort the child’s body, making them ugly and deformed. To protect the people, there was a blanket command. Passed down for centuries. Kill all those born under the red moon.
The bodies could not be burned but left to decompose on the earth; letting the ghost and monsters return to the pits where they belonged. No names were to be given nor was the unfortunate birth to be spoken of. Parents denied the right to grieve but nothing else was permissible.
Thankfully Sean had yet to encounter any who were killed by the crime of birth. He can recall the tales of his half-crazed grandmother. Who spoke of a babe born in a castle during the night. Others had ordered her to seal her lips, lest someone hear her words.
The elderly woman was convinced that there was a nobleman whose mother had sold them to the creatures for youth. Or power. Whatever the nobility desired in their materialistic hearts.
Sean thought it was superstitious nonsense but he saw others take it for fact.
Nevertheless, it was a powerful time. Religious ceremonies were spoken in all corners of the country, it was the perfect time to send their signal.
Sean listens to Yok and Gram argue when he thinks he hears a sound. Straining his ears, nothing stands out against the wood noise. The birds and bugs are the loudest. The absence of human activity made them feel bolder but there it was again.
The feeling of anticipation.
The smell of longing.
Sean’s brows furrow. A frown covers his normally blank face. His back straightens. Holding up a hand the group falls silent. Gumpa pulls the sword from his waist and Sean does the same as seconds later the leisurely pace sound of hooves can be heard. The two alphas are the ones who stand in the front, making their way to the source of the noise. The two betas take up the rear carrying their own weapons at the ready.
Sean has yet to see the source of the sound and while his ears are strong; it is his nose that is leading the party, Gumpa lets him take the charge, following his steps, trusting the younger alpha.
He uses the limited shades to his advantage, sticking close to the trees until he can see the direction of the horse, find out if a sneak attack is about to happen or if the horse belongs to a merchant.
Sean can smell a hint of sweetness to the air and it makes his stomach flutter but not in dread or nerves, there is excitement in the pit of his stomach and the closer he gets to the source his feelings get stronger.
The alpha in his soul readies itself.
The horse is making a trail for itself, carelessly strolling at an unhurried speed, slowing on occasion to feast upon the greenery. The hooves are heavy but uncontrolled. At first Sean doubts it has an owner, the reins are falling loosely around the huge shoulders. A cloak is on the beast’s back, covering the horse’s coat. Sean breathes deeply and thinks it could be an alpha’s scent.
Meaning the horse could have been a mount of an alpha’s soldier or maybe a spoiled youth? The stallion had escaped its master and is making its way to freedom. Sean inches close and holds back a gasp as he breathes the strongest scent on the beast. The heady scent of an omega floods his senses and he covers the lower half of his face, trying to stem the scent from reaching him.
Yok’s eyes grow large and the artist is the crazy one who calls the beast over with an apple. Mindlessly the horse goes to the offered food, taking large bits and the beta’s scent floods with worry.
Sean rushes over to see the trigger.
There on the beast’s back, underneath the cloak.
Are limp pale arms.
Slender twigs which connect to the unbelievably tiny body.
Sean can’t breathe as Yok checks for a pulse. Verbalizing when he finds one. Ruling the omega as suffering from dehydration and a heat. The beta calls Gram to his side to pull the small frame to the ground.
A boy.
A pretty boy with long lashes and flustered cheeks. With dew drop lips and the scent of home.
Sean’s body moves without his mind ordering it to do so. Cradling the boy’s upper body over his knelt knees. Sean takes in his being, the omega’s eyes flutter half lidded, he is gaze up at.
A weak string of words.
The group comes to one realization.
The boy is a northerner.
An enemy.
Gumpa steps close to the pair, Sean holds the omega against his chest growling at the man he admires and respects. Ready to tear out his throat should the older alpha try to touch the boy. However the posturing is unneeded, the soldier runs his thumb over the fabric of the cloak. Pensive and lost in thought.
Gram and Yok are unaffected by the omega’s pheromones.
The scholar holds out his water skin and Sean places the rim to the parched lips. Carefully dripping in the liquid.
The boy drinks but remains out of the present. Lost under the in toxification of heat and fever. The elements have left their marks.
“He needs a safe place to rest.” Sean said.
The two young men look apprehensive but his glare silences their voices.
Gumpa remains quiet on the journey back home. Sean lays the omega in his bed, watching the omega cocoon himself in the scented bed. Yok’s mother checks on the youth, wiping his brow and to Sean’s embarrassment, stripping him.
The alpha averts his gaze.
Around the table the gang waits to form a decision.
Gumpa is the one they all turn to. He still holds the cloak.
“I served…” Gumpa begins.
“In the military, we already know.” Gram interrupts, a hand slams the wooden surface and then he looks sheepish by the sharp gaze Gumpa gives him.
“Yes, I was in the army, that was true but I didn’t say where I was stationed.” Gumpa said with a heavy heart. His face appeared aged and haunted. “I originally joined because I believed I knew who our enemy was. The war against the north, the killers of our king and queen. People who had no principles. But I was quickly corrected.”
Gumpa closed his eyes.
The group waited for him.
“I was tasked with guarding the prisoners. Not unusual until I saw a pattern. The captives were all northerners, none of them were southerners like us. But unlike enemy spies or soldiers, these people merely shared a language. They had no similarity in standing or profession.” He seemed unnerved by his memories. “The battered people and scared voices I heard during my hours there. The door I stood in front of as I heard nothing but screams, I know they were begging. Because over time I learned their language but not because I wanted to.”
“I learned it since the one I took orders from desired that knowledge.”
“Tawi?” Gram questioned.
The three looked at the fine material, aged perhaps but the quality could not be disputed. It was also the intricate pattern of the royal family.
Gumpa shook his head.
“No, the prince hungered for this information. Cutting it out of his victims, torturing them until they sung a song for him.” Gumpa shivers. “Countless people died in that cell. But he learned it well. The last three victims could have believed him to be one of their country men. That was when he started hunting and not merely poaching.”
“What happened? Is it revenge?” Sean asked in a hushed voice.
“He asked about the same person each time. Describing them but I still don’t know who they are. Tawi held a firm hold over the young prince but as time went on. Our fish grew bigger, and a minnow like Tawi looks tasty.”
“I thought the northerners being involved in the regicide was an inside job. Did Tawi have no part in it or was he pulling the strings?” Yok barked annoyed.
“It was all Tawi’s doing. That nonsense with the captain of the guard and his village was a bold face lie.” Sean raised his voice, emotion flooding his voice and scent. Impassioned.
“Sean is correct. Tawi killed them. The prince witnessed his mother’s death. I do not know the whole truth, only a fraction of it. The prince did go missing but closer to the boarder, he escaped on horse back and then a group of loyal soldiers found him. That part is truth, as I was there when he returned. I was the one he picked. I came from a poor background and the prince asked me many questions.”
They nod, wondering what the prince was conspiring.
“It was often the two of us and the captive, but over time I saw how the prince got his way if not by action than by word.” Gumpa revealed.
Sean wanted to snort; this was no great truth. Rich people unfairly hurt the underprivileged and used hierarchy as their justification.
“You miss understood.” Gumpa chuckles. “When I say by word, I truly mean it. His orders could sway the strongest of hearts.”
In spite of the probing Gumpa said that was all he was able to say. Ordered to hold his silence.
“But the boy?” Sean said.
“He fits the description. I think this is the Black, the prince was searching for.” Gumpa said.
“He should help him.” Gram said.
Sean nodded. His brain might argue otherwise but his heart, the atoms in his body all wanted to protect the omega.
Within two days Black heal and stay awake long enough to be questioned.
Gumpa acting as a translator. The boy while scared is brave. He is searching for his brother. It’s noble if not foolish. An alpha would be killed on site.
Black stays in the cottage, helping with the garden, it flourishing under his tender hands. They have never eaten such good food, nor as plentiful.
Sean sees Black is a fast study as he has broken conversations with the other gang members. The omega keeps his distance but Sean is the one to track his movements. To watch his habits and to hear the way he cries when he thinks everyone is asleep.
Sean spends nearly a day searching for a way to cheer Black up. The dagger seemed like a good idea, a tool to make the omega feel safer and to show Sean was not a threat. However, finding the omega struggling to breath on the ground was not how he envisioned this moment. Pleading with the other to regain his breath and calling for aid.
Black chokes out the word for brother. Calling for his elder brother in his dying breath.
Then as if fate had changed its mind, Black’s lungs begin to work a new. The boy growing healthier and stronger with each second, the spell an unpleasant illusion.
The two don’t speak of it but Black proudly wears his dagger.
In the market place they overhear the announcement, the prince has taken a mate. The ceremony will be held on the eclipse and it will also mark the burning of Tawi’s body. The news being he passed from illness.
Black is the one to beg to see the castle. To sneak inside, believing his brother is trapped within. How he came to this conclusion no one understands but Sean agreed. Which meant the others did as well.
So here Sean was sitting in front of Black, acting elusive as the horse walked into the castle, placing them above the people on foot. The omega hides his face in Sean’s back and the alpha acts like they are freshly mated when a guard tries to make Black speak. The alpha growls the reaching hand and the armored man flinches letting them pass through.
Sean is not unconcerned by the many moving bodies, the different scents and dynamics make his nose itch but with Black holding him like a starving snake, the alpha is willing to be his fat hare. Because he can tell where the other boy is. The unknowing is a terrible feeling; and the northerner might be able to have broken conversations but his mind is mostly trapped in his own head. Body doing the talking for his bound tongue.
The omega uses Sean’s borrowed traveler’s cloak, it is worn and patched but the fabric is dark enough to conceal the omega’s face when it is held; the action is taken as a freshly mated omega soothing himself with the alpha’s scent.
The alpha in the rues knows Black is hiding his features but still the primal part of his brain struts. Sitting straight and imposing on those who look up at them.
Black snuggles closer to his back, pressing his chest to the warm upper body. A pair of lips tickled his ears. The hot breath makes goosebumps form on his body.
“Left.” Black orders.
Sean directing the gentle mannerisms of the beast made Sean feel more assured. He goes in the direction and keeps his eyes on where his friends had stationed themselves.
The omega gasps and before Sean has a chance to ask what is wrong. The loss of arms makes Sean alert and almost swerve off the saddle. He barely sees Black slip off the back of the horse and disappear into the crowd, the cloak floating in the wind around a corner.
He brings his fingers to his lips and whistles.
POV Change
White suffers under the knowledge of his half truths. The gang doesn’t know his real name, thinking he is Black. Which is to the omega’s benefit in this moment but once he reconnects with his brother, then they can disappear and his impression of the elder will end. In the future they may have to pretend to be White.
The younger twin had worked hard to earn his keep and using his talents to supply the food, to make up for using the limited resources of medicine. Talking to the plants to grow and flourish. The borrowed cloak drags on the ground as White glides to his target. The plan was to enter the unfamiliar fortress, sneak to the prison cell where Black could have been hidden and then abscond away without leaving any traces.
Or die trying.
White was leaning more towards the direction of death.
He thinks his new…not yet friends but not good strangers either are under the misconception that Black is an alpha and for now that is the safest option. One little lie amongst a hundred. They don’t know what he looks like, barely knows they share a similar scent. But White refuses to abandon his brother.
For a large portion of his life, he depended on Black for protection but that left Black in danger as seen by his imprisonment. Just two days ago, White almost drowned. In the middle of open airspace. Not a drop for miles. Black…these southerners were hurting him. Killing him slowly for who knows what reason.
In a land of strangers, there are few people White can trust.
To see the memorable face in a crowd was startling. Like a key turning the lock, a memory was opened. The alpha who had stood so rightly between the twins, who raced them in the water and who patted White on the head whenever the omega got teary eyed.
Todd.
His friend from the dark past. Their lost friend, he had survived the fire. Was making his way through the castle grounds. A person White could rely on.
Without a thought he goes to the other. His brain follows the scent of his old friend. Amidst the others this one is unmistakable, despite the many years White can still remember it. He doesn’t yet question why. Thinking it belongs to another buried memory.
“Todd.” White gasps out. His voice breathy and floating on the breeze.
Traveling to Todd’s ear, the taller man turns. His eyes are content and a smile on his features.
“Black what are you doing here?” The man asks as White gets closer.
The finely dressed man stands against White’s less than regal robes. However, Todd does not hesitate to throw his arm over White’s form. Pulling the omega close to the alpha’s slim build. That was a surprise but not unpleasant in White’s mind.
Todd could help them even if he had mistaken White for Black.
“I was…” White doesn’t know what to say.
The phrasing of his words is unnecessary as Todd speaks over him. Voice conspiring. There is a roguish look on his face and it is then White knows he made the right choice.
“You were escaping. I’ll show you a secret pathway.” Todd says.
Leading White away from the festive people. The bustle can not disguise their walking sounds, nor is their scents masked but White does not fear the journey. Todd is taking him towards one of the tall walls. He must know a hidden way, a crack within the structure.
It doesn’t cross his mind how Todd speaks his tongue, thinking the other could have travelled before coming to this castle. He might be a scholar or a missionary. The finery could be due to striking it big as a merchant.
Todd was always a fast talker.
The once friends are passing by a grand fountain. A golden dragon which spouts water from its mouth. Ruby eyes and the snake like body is curled to an impressive height. The thing is huge and while breathtaking is not really functional. The large pool ripples from the water but it is mostly shallow. If one was laying on their back than yes, they could drown but standing on their knees would keep themselves safe.
White’s fingers scarcely make contact with the crystal water when he hears an order. His head snapping up to see Sean’s panicked face rapidly approaching them.
“Get away from him!” Sean shouts.
White can see the fear in his eyes. Looking around for the cause he sees the rest of the gang wearing the same expression.
“I thought this would take longer.” Todd said with a disappointed sigh.
A blade is thrusted against the soft skin of White’s throat. White’s mouth opens in alarm as he is enveloped by Todd’s scent. The alpha is the one who has him as a detainee. The omega used as a shield to ward off the other men.
“Sorry for the scare White.” Todd said, displaying the fact he knew exactly who White was from the start.
“White?” Sean asks in doubt.
White’s eyes fall to the ground in shame. The scarf of lies is untangling before his eyes.
“Captain.” Todd said with a smirk and he sees the way Gumpa glares defiantly.
“Your highness.” The lawbreaker said back icily.
“It’s now my king.” Todd cheerfully announced.
The group looks horrified. This is the heir of Tawi, the prince who tortured and sought out a southerner for an unknown vendetta. White struggles to free himself from Todd’s iron embrace, ignoring the way the alpha smells his hair.
“You two are almost identical. Looks and spirit but underneath at the heart. It’s easy to tell you apart.” Todd coos into White’s ear. “You don’t have the same scent of death that Black has.”
White flinches, eyes wide.
Todd did he know?
“Get away from him.” Sean orders again. Growling low in his throat at Todd. The other alpha laughs in amusement, finding humor at being commanded in his own lands.
“Where’s Black?” White said, his nails clawing at Todd’s arm.
He can smell the fresh blood.
“Black is…resting. He’s had a tough time adjusting. What with his season and then the little dip in the fountain, two days ago. While I do miss the freedom of swimming with you two. The fountain is a sad replacement.”
“You tried to drown him.” White accuses. Growling.
“I give what I get from him.” Todd said dismissively.
“You tried to kill him.”
“No, I refused to let him kill only me. If we are to parish than it will be together.”
“Killer.” Gram curses.
“What alpha would let his omega die alone?” Todd said with a hint of madness.
“This needs to end.” Yok muttered in horror.
“You will not take a single step towards me.” Todd ordered.
White’s body twists in an unnatural way. His feet turning to stone on the cobble. He sees the effects on his friends. Then Gumpa’s words flood back into his mind. The prince and his lethal words. The one born under a blood moon.
Myths are often based on reality.
White should have known that all too well.
“Play nice little brother.” Todd tells him.
White turns pale at the words.
“I’m not mad about you trying to steal my bride, nor for the havoc it might have caused. But to come into my home without a single blessing on your tongue. I would think you hate me.” Todd pouts in an extravagant manner.
“You hurt my brother.” White hurls the words at him.
“I gave him aid; I protected him.” Todd said sharply, words cutting. “I returned what he gave me, all those years ago.”
“What did we give you? Prince of the south.” White curses him, reverting back to his mother tongue.
“Safety, a home and compassion.” Todd said back in the language.
White had nothing else to say to those words. Unnerved by the conviction, he had no idea Todd had those thoughts about his brother, nor Black’s own musings.
“I kissed him the night your village went up in flames. I swore under the moon he would be mine. Under that very moon I took him back, and under its light I will wed him.”
“What if he doesn’t want you?” White inquires.
“Then I’ll see how my nightshade plans to do away with me. Physical fights are not to his advantage, maybe he will try to poison me?” Todd does not sound scared, instead he is buzzing with excitement.
“I’ll kill you right fucking now.”
Black promises, throwing himself at Todd’s body. His brother must have come from the castle, smelt White’s scent or their connection as twins had activated, regardless Black was ready to kill.
Todd spins, his arm letting White free and the omega almost tumbles into the water in the violent dance. Sean saves him from the impact of the fountain. Holding the boy close to his chest and using his feet to brace them.
White thanks him. Shifting to see what has happened to his brother.
Black is tearing at Todd’s neck; the collar of his shirt is exposed. Jagged teeth marks, show that Todd is claimed, and White can see a cleaner set of fangs on Black’s own neck. Black fights with his fists but Todd is quicker.
He latches his teeth into the omega’s neck, paralysing the fighter. The omega goes limp and Todd purrs. Petting the shiny hair and pushing himself up with his free hand. Slowly getting to his feet. The king’s men assemble to aid the monarch. Sean uses his larger hand on the back of White’s head to push his face into the alpha’s chest. To shield him from the swords and arms posed to take them out. White longs to get his brother.
Todd looks at White and then to Black.
“I have a poisoner, maybe a healer could be useful as well. After all I have always loved pairs.” Todd caresses Black’s face and the omega sleepily glares at him.
“Touch my brother and I’ll skin you alive.” Black vows.
“What a fierce guard dog I’ve claimed. I can’t wait.” Todd says smugly.
Waving a hand to his guards.
“Our honored guests should be fed.” Todd walks with Black in his arms.
The servants and those who lived within the protective walls are mystified to see the two copies of the new queen. Twins are a rarity most will go their entire lives without encountering.
Sean holds his hand tighter but follows the omega after the alpha ruler and the aggressive twin.
The sun eclipses the moon and it’s rays cast shadows on the ground as the group walks in to the castle. To the dining hall, into the fortress of wealth.