Chapter Text
Since Coriolanus was born, his place in society has been carved out for him. As the only male born in his generation, the Snow dynasty fell squarely on his shoulders, even when he was just a boy, clinging to his mother's skirts. His father would point to paintings of proud men, not just men, but Alpha men, and gruffly tell him,
“That will be you one day, son. You must bring pride to the Snow name; keep your chin high, back straight, and stop sniveling! An Alpha, under no circumstances, should ever show weakness. It's just the natural order of things."
The next morning, his father had gotten on a train to District Twelve, where he died. Their last exchange echoed in Coriolanus’s mind throughout the war, during the dark days, when he spent the nights shivering beside Tigris as he watched those same oil paintings burn in the fireplace, the last scraps of fuel they could find, as the proud men’s faces melted into the flames.
And when Coriolanus was fourteen, his place in society had been sealed. He presented on a cool autumn morning. He had woken up uncharacteristically warm. At first, he feared he had a fever, and with Snow’s wealth long depleted since the war, getting sick wasn’t just an inconvenience; it was dangerous. With little money to spend on even the bare necessities, let alone medical care, Coriolanus couldn’t risk letting his health slip. His only chance of seeing a doctor was yearly for vaccines and a check-up, expenses covered by the Capitol government, thankfully. The mandatory, yearly physicals had been implemented two years prior, when the birth rates started declining. He remembered hearing the reports on the radio, and reading the articles in the newspaper, before he’d stuff them under his leaky windowsill:
“Leading Capitol health experts scramble as Panem reports its lowest birthrate in over 50 years.”
However, letting his grades slip was also dangerous, as he needed the top marks to ensure a scholarship to university. So, he pushed himself out of his rickety bed, layered a worn long sleeve undershirt under his uniform, awaiting the impending achy chill soon to come, and pressed onwards.
“Snow lands on top,” he had grumbled sarcastically to himself. Ignoring how strangely his teeth ached, at least he had figured it meant it was just a sinus infection, and not a more severe illness like the swan flu.
If only he’d truly known what type of illness he had been afflicted with.
When he left his room, Tigris immediately knew something was amiss, her nose scrunched as she prepared a meager breakfast for her and the Grandma’am in the kitchen.
“Are you feeling okay? You look flushed, and you smell different today” She pressed her pale, thin hand to his sweaty forehead.
“I’m fine, Tigris.” He swatted her hand away, “and I don’t smell any different than I usually do!” He grumbled, sniffing at his shirt.
“Are you sure? If you're sick then-“
“I’m fine!” He hadn't meant to get cross with her, but between the aching in his joints and teeth, his temper was shorter than usual.
She just huffed and turned away, and he watched her stuff the last bite of a stale piece of bread into her mouth. It had been his turn to skip that morning, and a man kept his word.
And that’s what he was. A man. At least before the events of that day, he was only a man; his primary gender, something he took pride in. He had felt like he was more mature than his classmates, who were at that time, still all simply boys, who knew nothing about the responsibilities of being the sole male of a household. He handled all the household repairs, slept in his father’s old bed in the master bedroom, and was certain he’d need to start shaving any day then. Tigris always told him not to grow up too fast, ruffling his curls and speaking to him like he was still a boy, much to his frustration.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. The last thing he wanted was to make her upset. If he were the man of the house, it was Tigris’s duty to be the caretaker. The last thing he needed was to upset the one in charge of cooking and cleaning. “I just feel…off…today, that’s all.”
She simply hummed, smoothing the shoulder of his uniform jacket fondly, and let him be on his way.
They made the trek to the Academy; the cool autumn air did little to cool his burning skin. But while he still felt feverish, he didn’t feel sluggish. Instead, he felt like he was thrumming with energy.
It was up to the Capitol families to educate their children on these things; discussions of secondary gender in the school curriculum were vague and sanitized. And Coriolanus, not having had a proper discussion of secondary genders on account of his home dynamic consisting of Tigris, his Beta cousin, and his Beta grandmother, who was staunchly conservative when it came to discussions of human physiology, wasn’t fully aware of what was happening to him. In his eyes it was a strange sickness, an amalgamation of unrelated symptoms.
The faint smell of his classmates, many not even on blockers yet, overwhelmed him as he walked into his first class. The noisy buzz of his classmates assaulted his sensitive ears, agitating him more than usual that day, so much so that he nearly felt a low rumble escape his chest when his seatmate jabbed his shoulder,
“What, Clemmie?” He gritted out.
“Nothing… I was just asking if you had finished Professor Blackwell’s assignment already, but you weren’t listening. Sorry I guess.” She spoke the last words with such a childish petulance that Coriolanus felt further agitated. But he’d reminded himself Clemensia was among his closest friends, another child of a prestigious Capitol family.
“Im sorry, Clemmie. I didn’t mean to snap. I think I might be fighting off a little cold. I would have stayed home today but I know we have our rhetoric project coming up,” He smiled at her boyishly, thankful that the feverish flush on his cheeks would make him appear genuinely ashamed, “I didn’t want to put all that work on you.”
Clemensia’s own cheeks flushed at his apology; she always had been sweet on him, clinging to any scrap of affection he showed her. “Oh, Coryo, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to take offense. I hope you feel better soon. If you need me to do your part for you, just let me know.”
It was a nice gesture, and truthfully, even he would admit she was always the better of the two of them in rhetoric, but a Snow didn’t accept handouts.
The rest of the class was spent, with impressive self-control, trying not to scream out loud in frustration as his symptoms worsened. His skin still burned, as he had begun to regret his choice of the thermal as it clung to his sweaty skin uncomfortably, his teeth still ached, and he still felt wildly agitated at every little instance, his hands clenched in frustration and restraint as Arachne smacked her gum in his ears beside him. He had barely managed to get through mathematics without storming out of the classroom.
But it was that smell, that passed his nose as he made his way to the cafeteria that elicited the strongest response from him; that made him realize what the sickness plaguing him truly was.
As he’d walked with Clemensia, a sweet, flowery scent wafted into his nostrils, and he scanned the hallways to track its source, eyes landing on a pretty upperclassman girl, watching as her skirt swished tantalizingly as she walked in the opposite direction. Coriolanus had begun to salivate, so much so that, as his classmates will regale, much to his embarrassment, it began to dribble from his lips. His nose burned as his head grew fuzzy, and his body ached, this time not from a sickness, but from a deep, aching feeling low in his belly.
Coriolanus still cannot discern the difference between sickness and desire.
He stopped in his tracks, causing Festus to slam directly into his back, an action that filled Coriolanus with a strange, territorial rage. His hungry gaze followed the girl’s skirt swishing into the crowd of students, and he felt overwhelmed with a horrible need to follow her.
He made for her, head still swimming, but before he could, he had heard Festus shout from behind him,
“What are you doing, Coriolanus? I ran right into you!” The larger boy grabbed him and spun him around, but the moment he had laid his eyes on him they widened in surprise. Festus, who often boasted that he came from a long line of Alphas and eagerly awaited his own presentation, knew immediately what was afflicting Coriolanus.
The group had stopped by that point, staring at Coriolanus, the usually composed boy, a flushed, sweating, and now slightly drooling mess.
“Is he okay?” Clemmie had asked.
Festus grabbed Coriolanus by the shoulders and steered him away from the crowd, towards the nurse’s office as he called out to them behind his back,
“Coriolanus is fine! Just feeling sick, that’s all. I'll take him to the nurse! Don’t worry about following us!”
Coriolanus had made sure to thank Festus the following week; he admits it was the mark of a good friend to steer Coriolanus out of public before he humiliated himself.
In the cold, clinical office of the school's nurse, a portly woman named Mrs. Simmons, who was kind but often exhausted. Coriolanus couldn’t imagine having to deal with hormonal teenagers all day was easy. After Festus was made to leave the room, she did a brief but awkward check of his scent glands, pricked his finger, and handed him a pamphlet titled: “A Guide to Your Secondary Gender.” Before leaving the room to phone his household. He overheard the conversation as he sat on the cold bench, uncomfortably aroused and buzzing with near-violent energy.
“Yes, Hello? Mrs. Snow? Yes, hello, it’s the academy. Congratulations, Mrs. Snow, your grandson presented as an alpha! He’s currently having a rut; we’ll need you to pick him up immediately. Yes, yes, that’s fine. I’ll have them send her right over. Alright, thank you, have a good day.”
Usually, the students' families caught these sorts of things early enough to prevent it from happening on school grounds, but with Tigris exhausted from school and his elderly grandmother’s nose not what it once was, Coriolanus was out of luck.
“Oh, and please do ask any of your omega staff to avoid Mr. Snow if possible! Yes, yes, well, you know how young Aphas are!”
Coriolanus had felt his face burn; he could not believe this was happening to him. He sat, knees bouncing as his legs shook, hands folded on his lap, as he seethed in humiliation.
He had presented as an Alpha in front of nearly the whole school.
It wasn’t a bad thing to be an Alpha; he’d be respected, even feared. Alphas had started to become as uncommon as Omegas those days, even more so now, so the presentation of one, especially one from such a fine pedigree, was big news. He would be sure the entire Capitol would know soon enough he’d be carrying on his father’s legacy. But the confidence was quickly overshadowed by the memory of how he felt when he smelled the girl's scent
The desire, the carnal need, the hunger. It should have excited him; it certainly did physically, but mentally? It disgusted and terrified him. What would he have done had he caught up to the girl? The thought made him feel sick.
Tigris came in shortly after the call. She signed him out, eyeing him warily as he stood there, flushed and sweating. She thanked the nurse and took him by the hand as they left the school. He tried to pull his sweaty hand from hers, embarrassed that any of the older boys might see, but she tightened her grip.
“Sorry, we don’t have a car, remember? And I need to…keep an eye on you…until we’re home. Just to be safe.”
When they made it back, Coriolanus sped past his grandmother, mortified at the conversation she would try to initiate about his changing body, and retreated into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Usually, Tigris or Grandma’am would scold him for the act, but they thankfully had given him a wide berth that day. He hadn't meant to, but he wasn’t used to the newfound strength of his body.
He had stripped his clothes off, shredding the undershirt, the feeling of it confining his burning skin driving him mad, flung himself on the bed and…
Well, it disgusts him to think about what he did next.
But he did it anyway, again and again and again. And he did not feel any less disgusted each time. But what else could he do? He had no other way of comforting himself, of ridding his body of the disgusting hormones that plagued him, afflicting his body with the most horrific symptoms.
After three days of his affliction, his rut was over. And after a trip to the doctor, where he received suppressants he was to take in the morning before school, a physical where the doctor questioned his famished frame, and the stern warning that, despite his urges, he was to wait until marriage like a good citizen, he was back at the penthouse, now fully prepared for, in another six months, his next rut.
Life had suddenly become different for him. While still considered the most dominant, superior of secondary genders, the title of alpha came with responsibility. The government would require him to be on scent blockers in public for the rest of his life, he would have to be mindful of his newfound strength, if he was actually able to grow into his body, and it would now be considered rude for him to show his teeth when he smiled, as his canines would soon grow into sharp points, more pronounced than both betas and omegas, and would be considered intimidating by many.
Coriolanus supposed it could be worse, he could have been a Beta, though the most common by far, he would have just been another average male. The expectations for Betas were not as strict. Of course there were always the standard way of things, he would still be the only male of his household, but he would have been destined for a life of mediocrity.
And he suposed it could be worse than that, he could be an Omega. His life revolving around being sold off to give heirs to some prominent family. Omegas rarely held any sort of prominent role in the Capitol; he supposed it was natural; Omegas were too emotional and fragile for politics.
Instead, he was an Alpha now, and for the rest of his life, his role determined. It was shocking that he presented before any of his other classmates, considering that it was more likely that he was developmentally behind his classmates due to the lack of proper nutrition in his formative years, but the doctor said that certain stimuli, if strong enough, can trigger an early presentation. And to think, Coriolanus never even learned the girl's name.
But it wasn’t shocking that he was an Alpha. A Snow male, it was only natural. What was shocking, however, was that Festus Creed, with his lineage, never presented as one, neither did Pup Harrington, nor Felix Ravinstill, nor any of the other children of the prominent Alpha families of the Capitol, not even Sejanus Plinth presented as one.
That one was a surprise to Coriolanus.
Sejanus, with his broad shoulders, thick hands, and square jaw, was not an alpha.
Sejanus, with all his reckless outspokenness, his constant need to argue himself into demerit after demerit, because of what? His stubborn desire to protect the integrity of the backwater district where he came? Was not an alpha.
And yet, Sejanus, with all his unwavering empathy, eager gentleness, and infinite sensitivity, was not an Omega either.
He was simply a Beta. Coriolanus found it surprising, his classmates simply ignored him, but he could not help but dwell on the fact that Sejanus, with all his contradictions, was simply nothing. Just a Beta. Just Sejanus.
Perhaps a small piece of him dwelled so heavily on it because of the small, indulgent pride it brought him, that at the very least, this was the one thing he had over the boy who stole everything from him. And yet perhaps, a small piece of him was so fixated on it, because of the anger he felt, that a Beta had usurped his place in society. Coriolanus tried not to dwell on his anger, not for Sejanus, not for anyone; he knew what could happen if he let anger, such a shameful, primal instinct of his, take over.
There was one time he had. Thankfully, the story was a fuzzy memory in his classmate’s minds; Felix Ravinstill had made sure of that. Coriolanus couldn’t blame him; if he had been humiliated in such a way, he would do everything in his power to block it from his classmates' memory. Although Coriolanus supposed he hadn’t come across much better in that story.
It was a humid spring morning, several months after he presented, that Coriolanus had lost control. He remembers walking out of the academy doors dizzy with hunger when he was met with the scene of Felix and Sejanus arguing on the academy steps, as he approached, he caught the end of the argument.
“How could you say that! The capitol preaches respect and integrity and yet hear you are, talking about other human beings like their animals!”
“That’s because they are animals Sejanus, the districts just simply aren’t as evolved as us. Honestly, I’m shocked your father was able to teach you and your mother to walk on two legs.”
A look of hurt and anger passed through Sejanus’s face, and Coriolanus, realizing the two were likely going to be punished had they continued, took it among himself to break up the fight. It’s not like he had any food waiting for him at the penthouse anyway, and perhaps he’d look amiable enough to be rewarded for his actions.
“Now, Felix, don’t you think that’s enough. It's not polite to criticize one’s mother, honestly, were you raised in the districts?”
Sejanus had flinched at that. Good, he had needed to be humbled as well, still did from time to time.
Felix scoffed, stepping back from Sejanus and approaching Coriolanus, clearly trying to intimidate him. It had been a stupid choice, while Coriolanus was not as broad as Felix, he was significantly taller, thanks to his secondary gender, lanky, with awkwardly long limbs, but tall, nonetheless. Felix tipped his chin up at him, “Defending your boy, huh? Honestly, Coriolanus at this rate, I’m starting to think you're fond of district strays.”
Sejanus just scoffed, jutting his strong chin upwards, “He’s right Felix, you’re acting every bit as animal as you say I am.”
Felix made a move towards Sejanus and Coriolanus cut off his movement with a gentle but firm palm to the chest. He pushed him back, straining a bit due to the shakiness of his hungry body, and leaned down to meet Felix’s gaze.
“Felix, Is this really what you want to do right now? You’ll be punished for fighting, you know that. It’s not worth dealing with the aftermath from the school, let alone Strabo Plinth, just let it go.”
Felix contemplated his words for a moment before anger seemed to reignite behind his eyes, he shoved Coriolanus backwards, before he hissing out, just loud enough for the three of them to hear,
“Maybe you're right. Old Strabo would have my ass if I hurt a hair on his precious pup's head. He has the means to, with all those funds he stole from your family's business. Don’t worry Coryo, maybe he’ll let you have a scrap for the times you’ve protected his sniveling son, maybe he’d even let you have his son’s ass- “
Hot anger coursed through Coriolanus’s veins. Perhaps he could have let his words slide off him, but the smug look on Felix’s face, paired with his jabbing finger into his chest, bony from years of hunger, which apparently Felix knew about, was too much for him to handle.
He was thankful that, from an outsider perspective, it appeared that Felix had laid hands on him first, as he grabbed Felix by the suspenders over his academy shirt, and in a shocking display of strength, flung the boy onto the ground. Felix grabbed his collar, bringing Coriolanus down on top of him. Sejanus stepped back, clearly unsure of how to respond to the scene at his feet. Coriolanus pushed his knee into the boy's stomach, pinning him to the ground as Felix writhed helplessly underneath him.
The crowd, including Sejanus, had gone completely silent, all too shocked by the display of savagery in front of them.
“Say that again! Say it, Felix! Lie about my family one more time!”
Coriolanus, even in his rage, had thankfully been smart enough to cover his bases. The crowd of students, except for Sejanus, couldn’t hear what Felix had said, but if Felix was ever to repeat it, they would know Coriolanus had called it for what it was. A lie.
Coriolanus, however, had not been smart enough to quell the growl in his voice, to resist the urge to grind Felix’s face into the dirt, to stop his thumbnail from digging into the side of Felix’s head. He let his mask slip in front of them that day.
He remembers, most clearly of all, looking up to the shocked expression on Sejanus’s face.
Two teachers had snatched him under the armpits and drug him off the boy; he had gone easily. Another helped Felix to his feet, and Coriolanus had just then registered that Sejanus had run off somewhere.
Strabo Plinth, Tacitus Ravinstill, and Gloriam Snow had all been brought into the office, standing behind their children.
Strabo had a hand clasped on his son’s shoulder, whose face was uncharacteristically flushed and sweaty.
Dean Highbottom pushed for detention for Sejanus, suspension for Felix, and expulsion for Coriolanus. When Coriolanus had tried to protest, the dean had stared him down through furrowed eyebrows,
“You could have seriously hurt somebody, Coriolanus. You clearly cannot be trusted to control yourself.”
Shockingly, Strabo and Tacitus had come to his defense. Tacitus clearly attempting to play off his son losing a fight so embarrassingly fast, and Strabo, for reasons Coriolanus still does not know.
In the end, they convinced the Dean it was no big deal, they all shook hands, agreed to handle it like gentlemen next time, and went on their way. Tacitus had slapped his hand on Strabo’s shoulder, who just stared at him blankly, and had laughed out,
“Oh well, boys will be boys!”
Sejanus did not return to school for four days after the incident. Nobody questioned why, nobody really cared.
It would not be the last time Coriolanus defended Sejanus, the boy never knew when to keep his mouth shut. Coriolanus didn’t know why it always fell on him to keep the boy in check. He didn’t even particularly like him, he was district? How could he? Perhaps it was his instincts as an Alpha to try to maintain order among his classmates. To be a leader to them. That was surely the only reason.
By the time his classmates all turned sixteen, the incident had been forgotten completely. Everyone now too wrapped up by what was being discussed widespread across the country, whispered in every class, and the source for ongoing anxiety in the Capitol.
Monday morning Coriolanus and his classmates were ushered into Heavensbee hall for a school-wide assembly. The entire school had filed in as the faculty rolled in a giant projector.
The Epidemic, as they had begun calling it, was something he had been familiar with in the last few years. But it was an afterthought in his mind; now it had become real. Everyone knew what was coming. The problem needed to be addressed. And Coriolanus sat in a folding chair alongside his classmates, feeling like nearly the entire class of third year students was staring at him.
Coriolanus looked around at his anxious peers and began working through the statistics in his head.
Coriolanus was now one of three male Alphas aged sixteen in the entire Capitol. If he wasn’t mistaken, there were two female Alphas, two female Omegas, and no male Omegas.
Of the top students in his class, He and Vipsania were the only two alphas. It was confirmed that Lysistrata was an omega late last year. It was known at birth if a child was an omega, but it was proper for the families to wait for an appropriate age to tell people. The rest were nobodies from lower families that Coriolanus disregarded. But none of his other notable classmates had presented with a secondary gender, whether at birth or otherwise.
A nearly 50 percent drop-off from the average statistic reported in Coriolanus’s health class when he was thirteen.
Perhaps they had all known it for a while, but it seemed this morning, the realization hit everyone:
Something was very wrong.
The projector whirred the life behind him, and a grainy video appeared of President Ravinstill, sitting behind his presidential desk, with his hands folded neatly, as the stern Alpha addressed the country,
“Panem, this is your president speaking. I regret to inform you that our leading experts' efforts to control the nation’s declining birth rates have not been successful. This year, Panem reports the lowest birth rates this country has seen. With our population declining, our country has entered a crisis. Our nation’s military is occupying each district to investigate the possibility of rebel interference…”
Coriolanus knew that the influence of district rebels was unlikely, as, according to the reports he’d caught in the news, the district birth rates were just as low as the Capital. But he supposed everyone needed a scapegoat.
“As you know, our nation also reported the lowest rate of secondary gender presentation in our nation’s history, which we believe to be linked to the current crisis. Experts are unsure of what is causing the issue, but I’m directing the formation of a new medical research program, overseen by Dr. Volumnia Gaul, to research the issue. But for now, the only thing we can do as a country is move forward. New medical and social protocols will be implemented for the betterment of this nation. I assure you that the safety and prosperity of this country is my top priority. No matter what comes next, we will get through this, together, as a country. Thank you Panem.”
Dean Highbottom had barely woken up in time to switch off the projector. Any feelings of patriotism at the President's speech were overshadowed by a feeling of uncertainty. Coriolanus had not felt like this since the very beginning of the war.
Dean Highbottom cleared his throat, glassy eyes reading over a thick stack of papers, outlining the new protocols implemented by the Government.
“As the President said, a series of protocols will be implemented to maintain the structure of our society and, of course, the safety of our Omegas…” He trailed off at the end of the sentence. Scanned the giant stack of papers, and for a brief moment, stared sadly at the podium. He didn’t even bother to read the rest of the papers, just informed the students to wait for further instructions, and walked out.
Casca Highbottom, the first Omega dean of the academy.
His family huddled around the old radio that night to listen to the new protocols, the scratchy voice of some Government official rattle off a series of rules:
Travel to and from the districts, unless for necessary business arrangements, were banned until further notice.
Omegas, and beta women of fertile age, were advised to avoid anything that could alter their fertility. The official named an almost comically long list of things to avoid.
Omegas, and beta women of fertile age were to attend mandatory doctors appointments almost monthly.
Omegas were to register their secondary gender with the government at birth as opposed to when they were adolescents.
It was already highly suggested, but now it was law that Omegas were not to enlist in the military, work in fields that could damage their fertility, or do anything else on a long list of “potentially hazardous actions” until further notice.
Omegas were to remain with a chaperone at all times.
It seemed a lot of the rules affected them more than himself. Alphas were only required to attend two additional annual health check-ups until further notice. Coriolanus supposed it was only natural; it was an Omegas purpose to provide children. It was what they were built to do.
Coriolanus thought bitterly about how his mother had married his father, for the same reason every Omega did, to provide him with children.
And how it was her role in this world, that killed her.
Nowadays, it seemed marriage was all everybody talked about. Every rumor that circulated the rumor mill seemed to be about who was marrying whom and who was potentially pregnant.
Marriage had always been a big deal in the Capitol, but while traditional, serious, courting used to start around eighteen, with marriage coming in the next year or two. But now, most paired couples are urged to wed at eighteen, as soon as they were able. But Coriolanus could see right through the ‘suggestions’ they were orders. The Capitol was desperate.
But to be fair, so was he.
And as uncertain as the times were, he was practical enough to realize the Capitol’s birth crisis, terrifying as it may be, may be incredibly beneficial to him.
Everyone wants an Alpha, no, everyone needs an Alpha. The elite families of the Capitol, desperate to keep their lineages alive, are desperate for the best possible chance they have at heirs. Coriolanus noticed quickly that he’d become a hot commodity, at social events, mothers would nudge their daughters close to him, fathers went out of their way to shake his hand and ask him what his plans after school were.
All eyes were on him, the pressure to maintain his image became constant in his life.
A letter from the Dovecotes came in the mail one morning. The formality shocked him, at first Coriolanus thought somebody had died; a thick envelope stamped with a deep blue wax seal, embossed with the Dovecote’s sigil. Coriolanus ran his fingers along the velvety parchment of the letter as he read,
“Dear Coriolanus,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to formally invite you and your family to a dinner party hosted by the Dovecote family, held at our home tomorrow evening. I do hope you can attend and am eagerly awaiting your presence.
Your dear friend,
Clemensia Dovecote”
A formal invitation to a dinner party hosted by the Dovecotes, from the looks of the letter, just his family was invited. Curious, he brought the letter to his nose,
The faint smell of lilac. Not strong enough to be an omega scent, but still pleasant.
Ah, so Clemmie had handwritten it herself.
He had noticed a change in her recently; how she seemed more conscious of her words and actions, how she flushed deeper than usual when he leaned down to whisper to her in class.
At first, he was annoyed that he’d somehow done something to offend his friend, but as the discussions of courting became increasingly popular, and the letter in the mail, he quickly pieced together what was happening.
The Dovecotes, with Clemensia being an only child, were urging her to get close to him, the boy from the prestigious family who just so happened to be one of the few Alphas in his generation.
He sat in his bedroom, in his father's robe, as he contemplated the letter. Running his finger along the grainy wood of his desk, watching his nails make small indents in the ancient wood, he needed to trim them down again; they grew so fast nowadays.
A marriage offer. From the Dovecotes. He supposed he could certainly do worse than the prettiest girl in the school from one of the richest families in the capital. He brought his nose down to the lilac-scented letter again, breathing it in.
Much, much worse.
Marrying her not only meant he too had the chance to secure his own legacy, but it also meant that there could actually be a legacy. With the Dovecotes' mountainous fortune, getting into university wouldn’t be a problem, especially since, as the man of the household, he would claim Clemensia’s inheritance once they were wed.
But that would be the problem. Clemensia’s family still had their fortune; his didn’t. Eventually, Mr. Dovecote, a charming yet practical man, would realize the Snow’s had nothing to offer, the truth would be out:
The Snows’ were penniless.
They had nothing to offer in exchange for his daughter’s hand- Oh, but wait. They did, didn’t they?
The fortune didn’t even matter; what use was money for a family that had more of it than they knew what to do with?
Coriolanus was the dowry.
The thought made him slightly angry. So, he was what they were after? Was he a prize stallion?
But Coriolanus could understand, as belittling as it felt, that with more young couples struggling to produce heirs, families were desperate for security. And his status as an Alpha granted them a better chance at an heir, especially with Clemensia being a Beta.
Coriolanus wagered they'd been urging Clemensia to get close with him before some Omega caught his eye. And all Coriolanus had to do was agree, and of course, give them the heir. He felt his cheeks flush. Well, he wouldn’t think that far ahead yet. He wasn’t naive; he knew what it entailed; Mostly at least, the general outline; but he wasn’t crass either, he wasn’t going to dwell on the thought longer than was contextually appropriate.
But again, he could do much worse than Clemensia Dovecote.
All he needed to do was go to the dinner and charm her parents, which wouldn’t take too much effort. His biggest concern was finding something to wear.
“There. You look so handsome Coryo!” Tigris gushed, stepping back from his now-straightened tie to admire her handiwork.
He smiled at her, hoping she’d tone it down a notch before dinner. Thankfully, his cousin, despite her tendency to get flustered in long conversation, did well at these things. Just talkative enough to be friendly, just quiet enough to be respectable. She was no great beauty, but he was surprised she didn’t have any offers yet.
Before they rang the doorbell, Coriolanus smoothed the lapel of his deep blue suit jacket one more time. Tigris had done wonders on it, apparently a customer had left it at the shop one day, after an unfortunate wine stain deemed it “unwearable” but Tigris had worked her magic to get the stain out and tailor it too fit him better, the only thing she could not fix was the pants. Which were just barely too short.
His grandmother leaned down and straightened the rose she had pinned on him that morning. The prospect of the dinner seemed to put a spring in her step. He had watched her and Tigris get ready that evening, flitting around the living room with girlish excitement, and felt a fond warmth bloom in his chest, nearly feeling it rumble with happiness.
He rang the doorbell, and an avox let them in, took their coats, and led them to the grand, well-furnished sitting room. Clemensia sat on a velvet loveseat by her mother, and Coriolanus did not think there were two women more beautiful than Ms. Dovecote and her daughter in the Capitol. Her father, also an attractive man, objectively speaking, sat with his ankle crossed over his knee in a leather chair. Coriolanus went to greet the man of the house first, as was customary, extending his hand as Mr. Dovecote pulled attention away from his conversation with Strabo Plinth to spring to his feet and shake Coriolanus’s hand eagerly,
“Coriolanus, my dear boy! How are you? Looking more like your father every day, I see?”
“Thank you, sir, that means a lot. I’m good, my family and I were pleased by your invitation.”
A measured response, a firm but reserved handshake. Coriolanus had known Mr. Dovecote for a long time, he’d been speaking to the man since he could walk really, but while Mr. Dovecote tended to be more casual with all of Clemmie’s friends, gripping Coriolanus’s hand tightly, not out of intimidation but out of enthusiasm, Coriolanus didn’t want to come across too informal, especially given the context of the invite. And he certainly-
Wait a minute, Strabo Plinth?
Coriolanus turned his head over to see, none other than the head of the Plinth family sitting stiffly in another fine leather chair.
“Hello Coriolanus, good to see you. Tigris, Mrs. Snow, good to see you ladies as well.” He stood up, extending his hand to Coriolanus, smiling at them beneath his thick, well-groomed beard.
“Hello, sir, good to see you.” Coriolanus clasped his hand in the Alpha’s stony grip. Strabo released his hand and sat back down in his chair. Coriolanus locked eyes with Sejanus, who sat next to his Ma. His usually unruly curls were well groomed, and he wore a crisp, gray suit over a while shirt with a high collar. Sejanus’s brown eyes crinkled as he smiled at him.
What were they doing here? Had Coriolanus truly misread things? If this was meant to be a dinner to let two families, who were intending to become in-laws shortly, become closer to one another, then why the hell were the Plinth’s here?
“Hello, Sejanus.” He hoped he didn’t come across as too surprised. Especially considering Sejanus didn’t look all that surprised to see him, more relieved than anything.
“Hello, Coriolanus. How are you doing?”
Sejanus stood up, clasping a warm hand on his shoulder. If the Plinth’s knew they were invited tonight, why had he been left out of the loop? He wondered if he’d somehow missed something on the invitation, but from what he could recall, there was no mention that anyone else was invited. And with it nearly time for dinner, anyone else should have arrived by now.
“Good. Sejanus, thank you for asking.” Coriolanus bit his cheek in frustration.
Why was Sejanus even here? Had Clemensia personally invited him as well? Was it that she had her eyes set on Sejanus as well? He tried to think back to any time he’d seen them together. Wasn’t he speaking to her after class one day? He thought back to them discussing something once class let out, he couldn’t remember it clearly, probably because he really hadn’t cared, but perhaps they had been friendlier than he remembered. Clemensia was never close to Sejanus, nobody really was, but perhaps he’d missed something? Had she been staring up at him fondly? Letting her hand linger on his briefly as they exchanged a pencil in class? Had Sejanus clasped her shoulder warmly the way he always did with his? Coriolanus wracked his brain as he, much to his confusion and horror, began to feel jealous at the thought of them together.
Coriolanus quelled the feeling. It was preposterous to think he could be jealous at the thought of them together. Who would choose Sejanus over him?
Even as various conversations had begun in the room, his ears were able to pick up the quiet sound of movement behind him.
He turned over his shoulder and looked down to see Clemensia Dovecote herself,
“Hi Coriolanus. Glad you could make it.”
He stepped aside so she could stand next to him, the three of them forming a triangle. She looked beautiful, clad in a deep-blue sleeveless dress, and a thick, silver diamond crested necklace sat on her delicate collarbones. If he had any sort of feelings for her, he’s sure the sight of her would have made his heart skip a beat. Instead, he did feel himself flush a little at the flattering cut of the dress, but he chalked that up to hormones. He smiled down at her,
“Glad to be here. I was happy to see your invitation in the mail. Your penmanship always has been better than mine, don’t you think so, Sejanus?”
Sejanus raised his thick eyebrows in surprise, “Oh, I’m not sure. When I gave it to Pa, it looked like it was typed.”
Oh, he figured. Coriolanus suppressed a smug grin; So, Clemensia had handwritten his personally. He supposed he didn’t have to worry about Sejanus and his rich Pa swooping in and trying for Clemensia’s hand.
Clemensia flushed at the implication of being caught, “Um- yeah! I just…figured I’d do yours personally…” She trailed off, clearly flustered.
Coriolanus figured if he had Clemensia Dovecote saying “Um”, then the cat was already bagged. Or whatever that dreadful district expression Sejanus used was. Unable to help himself, He turned and flashed Sejanus a knowing smirk, but Sejanus only stared at the two of them blankly. Coriolanus tried deciphering the boy's unreadable expression, but before he could, the adults began moving to the dining room.
“Shall we?” He made a sweeping gesture towards the dining room, he would have offered her his arm, but he didn’t want to seem too forward in front of her father.
“Yes. Of course.” She seemed relieved at the distraction.
The menu was every bit as elaborate as he expected from the dovecotes, and yet he found himself shocked at the sheer amount of food piled onto his plate as the avoxes flitted between them all. Coriolanus was thankful nobody would blink twice at his second serving, just assume a young alpha boy would need a higher calorie intake. Coriolanus watched the silent server beside him refill his glass, wondering if he owned anything in his apartment that was more expensive than even a single piece of dinnerware. Ma Plinth’s voice took him out of his thoughts,
“Its scary times indeed. I feel like the whole Capitol is uncertain of what’s going to happen next.” She had never shaken the cloddish twang Sejanus had spoken with when he first arrived in the Capitol.
“Indeed. Our wonderful President is doing everything he can to keep this country together. You all must be very grateful you’re here!” His Grandma’am delicately dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin, he was shocked at how alert she was at dinner. Once a socialite, always a socialite, no matter how ancient you were, he supposed.
“I have a lot of faith in our President,” added Mr. Dovecote, reclining back in his chair, “But these are nerve wracking times, I mean, when I was younger this would have been unheard of, I mean we had the rebels to worry about sure, but a ‘birthing crisis’? Nobody saw this coming.”
“It’s been a thing in the districts for a while now. There was only one Alpha in my whole class back in two.”
Coriolanus wondered if Sejanus was capable of shutting his mouth or if he had some sort of diagnosed condition in which he was physically unable to do so.
“Well, sure…” Mr. Dovecote stammered, “But I mean, here? It’s unbelievable, it seemed growing up every family had at least a handful of presentations a year. Now…” He met Coriolanus’s gaze before clearing his throat awkwardly. “All I’m saying is, I’m glad President Ravinstill is taking action, now that it’s become such a prominent issue.”
“A prominent issue here, you mean.”
Coriolanus wondered if the condition could be medicated.
“Sejanus.” Strabo warned, glaring at his son through his raised glass.
“I think what Sejanus is trying to say, is that the entire country is going through a hard time right now. I agree, I’m thankful our President to guide us. These new measures seem drastic, but I belief the government when they say it’s for the best, I know I’m certainly not suited for politics, that’s all Coriolanus.”
Clemensia Dovecote, tactful as always. Coriolanus was thankful his future wife knew exactly her place.
Mr. Dovecote sat up eagerly in his seat, “Oh? Is that so Coriolanus? Do you have an interest in politics?”
Coriolanus laughed good-naturedly, “Clemensia is being too generous, really. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it though. I just want to make my father proud, he loved this country and I’d like to anything I can to make it better.”
The group nodded thoughtfully at his answer, and the mention of his father. For good measure, Coriolanus added,
“Times like these make me all the more inspired to do so. If not for the leadership of our President who knows what could be happening.”
“Agreed.” Mrs. Dovecote shot her daughter a knowing look, she took a sip of her wine before adding, “Lots of big changes though. You know, I heard from Mrs. Ravinstill there’s talk of cancelling the games this year. I suppose they can’t risk losing anymore of the population.”
The sound of Sejanus’s fork dropping from his hand and clattering against the fine china rang throughout the room.
Coriolanus watched him stare at it, an array of emotions cycled behind his brown eyes, before he looked around at the table, opened his mouth to speak, but instead, for the first time in his life, decided against it. His jaw snapped shut, and he stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor, and hurried out of the dining room.
“Sejanus!” Strabo hissed, throwing his napkin onto the table, “I’m so sorry, please excuse us.” And followed his son out of the room. Ma stared at her empty plate hollowly, before looking at Mrs. Dovecote, cheeks flushed red,
“I’m sorry. The food was lovely, you’ll have to send me the recipe. I should… attend to my husband.”
She left quietly.
The rest of them sat in silence for a moment. He caught Tigris’s stunned face across the table, before he was pulled away by the sound of Mr. Dovecote’s hands clapping together,
“Clemensia! Didn’t you want to show Coriolanus that book we got in? The one for your history project?”
“Oh, yeah, remember Coriolanus, I had mentioned it in class the other day.”
“Yes, that’s the one! Why don’t you kids go check it out the library! The rest of us… there’s cake…I almost forgot the cake!” He leaned down to his wife, “There is cake right sweetie?” She nodded,
“Yes perfect!” He waved him and Clemensia off, “Go have fun you two! Not too much fun though!” His wife kicked his leg under the table, “Sorry, sorry…Just kidding around.”
They left the dining room, and briefly, Coriolanus caught a glimpse of Strabo and Sejanus in a dimly lit hallway. The two seemed locked into a heated debate, Strabo harshly whispering to his son while Sejanus, arms crossed, glared back at his father, Ma stood behind him, clearly upset. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but figured to leave the situation alone.
He followed Clemensia to the library; he made it a point to leave the heavy door open. The last thing he needed was Mr. Dovecote thinking ill of Coriolanus’s intentions.
The library was gorgeous. Coriolanus felt something stab in his chest as he stared around the room. Glossed hardwood floors, giant plush chairs, tall ornate bookshelves filled with books lining the dark green walls. He would have loved to have something like this. Did they? Before the dark days? Had he just forgotten?
Clemensia walked over to one of the shelves, scanned the titles, and pointed to a large, red book pressed between so many others.
She turned back to him sheepishly, “Sorry, would you mind?”
“Not at all. Here,” He reached over her and plucked the book off the shelf with ease. “Thanks. I can't believe how tall you’ve gotten, Coryo.”
“Well, my father was tall,” He handed her the book, “and it's just been growth spurt after growth spurt after I presented. You know, I just had this suit tailored?”
Clemensia’s high cheekbones grew a shade of pink at the mention of his secondary gender. They hadn't really discussed it much; nobody at school did with him, it was rude to ask questions about such a thing.
She gestured towards two chairs at a fine wooden table, “Shall we?”. He took his seat next to her, she looked at the book thoughtfully, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ears, “I think it would be perfect, it's also just a really good book.”
“I'll have to borrow it from you sometime.”
They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, that was one thing he did like about Clemensia, she never felt the need to fill silence with needless chatter. He found himself wondering how Sejanus was faring downstairs. He looked up and met Clemensia’s gaze, she smiled at him, before her shoulders began to shake gently, before Coriolanus could realize what was going on, she was laughing.
“What's so funny?” He quirked his eyebrow, hoping he didn’t look too lost.
“Nothing, nothing.” She sighed, catching her breath. She looked away from him, dark eyes staring out the window for a moment, before she realized he was still staring and caught his eyes once again.
“It's just…This is all so strange.”
Now he was genuinely confused, and little frustrated. What did she mean strange?
“Oh? What is?”
“This. I mean, don’t tell me you haven’t figured out what's happening,” Her cheeks flushed.
Ah, that.
“What’s that?” He teased.
She smacked his arm lightly, “Don’t be coy!” Realizing her hand was lingering on his forearm she pulled it back,
“My parents want us to marry, Coryo.” She sighed, “That’s why I invited you over tonight.”
“I figured. I will admit though, I was confused when I saw the Plinth’s here as well.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, Mr. Plinth and my father are doing business, they were going to have a dinner to talk over some stuff and my mom wanted you and I to have dinner at some point,” She licked her lips nervously,“ and I asked if they could do it on the same day because…”
“Because?” He hoped she wouldn’t be so confusing when they were married. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with this for the rest of his life.
“Because I just feel really weird about this whole thing!” She blurted out.
“Well I get it. I am weird.”
“No, no! I didn’t mean that you're weird! Just…this,” Coriolanus couldn’t remember a time he ever Clemensia Dovecote so flustered. She trailed of, staring at the ceiling before continuing, “I feel like so much is happening right now…and my mom really wanting me to marry you? We’ve known each other our whole lives, and you’re a dear friend to me but…It’s just a lot.”
He knew what she meant. He had been so wrapped up at the thought of finally gaining the security his family needed that he had forgotten the logistics of it all. He’d known Clemensia since before he could even walk, and the idea of marrying someone who you went to primary school with can bring about strange emotions. He just hoped she wasn’t getting cold feet; he really would like to go to university.
“Do you want to marry me?” He kicked himself mentally. Great, know she would think he was desperate.
“I think I would…Do you?”
He mulled it over in his head for a moment, as she stared at him anxiously.
“Clemmie, I know that we’ve been friends for a long time, and that makes it awkward but You’re very important to me Clem, I consider you my closest friend. And I won’t lie to you and say that I’m not nervous, but they always say your spouse should be your partner and your best friend, and I think I may have to agree with that.”
Her blush spread across her face, and she blinked her brown eyes rapidly. She looked away from him clearly too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “Thank you, Coriolanus. That means a lot.” She rasped out.
He had hoped it would. He had carefully curated each word, and he was glad they achieved their desired effect. He supposed that marriage, despite what old men at dinner parties harped about, would be easy. His lack of actual romantic attachment to her would be no problem, all he had to do was choose the right words to appeal to her, and she would be happy. It was like a game, and Coriolanus had always loved puzzles.
But for a brief moment, he felt a twinge of doubt. They would be the perfect pair, but would she be nervous to marry an Alpha? With Omega’s becoming rarer and rarer, it was more common now than in the past. But he still occasionally heard the whispers among his female beta classmates, of how they hoped for Beta’s instead of Alphas. Clemensia had said she was concerned because they were friends, but could there be another reason?
She had been there that day, when he ground Felix's face into the dirt.
“You're not…?” he trailed off, looking for the right words. But Clemensia was his friend, wasn’t she? Perhaps he didn’t always need the right words with her, “Scared of me, are you? I know Alphas can be intimidating, and I can imagine that as a Beta, the idea of being married to one might be… nerve-racking.”
“What, no. Don’t say that!” Clemensia went to defend him but lost the words, “Well, I won’t lie to you and say I’m not, not nervous. But not because I’m afraid of you! I trust you, Coryo. I just… don’t know a lot about Alphas. Look, marriage in general is nerve-racking, the last few years have been nerve-racking, all these new rules have been nerve-racking… I just-“
He cut her off by placing his hand over her own, running his thumb over the expanse of her knuckles soothingly, he gave her a polite, tight-lipped smile, “We’ll get through this together, Clem.”
She smiled at him, “Together. Agreed.”
He didn’t pull his hand away, instead continuing to run his thumb along her knuckles. His hand dwarfed her own, large fingers, thick, slightly pointed fingernails contrasting her smooth, painted ones.
She broke the silence with a quiet whisper, “I just have one request.”
He hummed. Unsure of what she was going to say next.
Surprisingly, she grinned at him cheekily, “Can I see the fangs?”
This time it was his turn to blush. That was a bit of a forward question, especially for such a proper girl. And yet, he huffed fondly and turned to face her.
For the first time in a long time, he smiled; fully, large enough so Clemensia could clearly see the pronounced points of his canines.
“Wow, that's actually really cool.” She caught herself, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to be forward or anything…Its just interesting, you know? One more question, do you bite your lip a lot?”
He laughed at that, genuinely, “When they first came in, all the time! I’m used to them now, though.”
She giggled at that. “Sorry again, I know tonight's been weird.”
“I’m just thankful my grandmother hasn’t asked me if I want the family ring in front of everyone.”
“I’m thankful my mom hasn’t had too much posca and said out loud she wishes she had grandchildren!”
That made them both flush. The thought caught up with them at the same time.
That was the intention of their soon-to-be union after all: Heirs. Coriolanus found himself eager to avoid that train of thought. He broke the silence,
“Speaking of too much posca, is your restroom still down the hall?”
“Yeah, to the right.”
Coriolanus opened the door to the guest bathroom. The bright, almost fluorescent lights stung his sensitive eyes. The rest of the Dovecote house was dimly lit; it wasn’t dissimilar to his own penthouse, but their rooms were dimly lit due to the ancient lighting and the fact that they had sold their lamps years ago. The Dovecotes willingly lived like this.
He shook his head as he unfastened his trousers. He’d never understand some of these wealthy families. Oh well, perhaps when he had the Dovecote's money, he could do whatever he wanted with it. It's not like the Dovecotes didn’t have taste; everything in their house was beautifully decorated, oozing class from every corner of their mansion. Even their upstairs guest bathroom was so stunning, Coriolanus wondered if he was worthy enough to be pissing in it.
The sound of someone sniffling jolted him out of his thoughts.
“I-hello?” He asked.
“Hi Coryo.”
“Sejanus? What are you doing here?”
“Hiding from my dad. I thought you were him at first, so I hid in the bathtub, and then I smelled roses and knew it was you, and then, yeah- “ His voice was raw, as if he’d been crying.
“Did you guys get into a fight? Either way, you shouldn’t be hiding out in here; you should be conversing with your hosts. It’s not polite to hide in social gatherings.” He scolded him.
“No, I know! It's just…We got into it really bad. Because of…earlier… and Ma’s upset too now. It's just been kind of a rough few weeks.”
“It's been hard for everyone, Sejanus, not just you. The entire country is struggling right now, and- Actually, you know what, I’m kind of in the middle of something here, can you just let me-“
“Yeah, yeah, I can hear that. Sorry, go ahead.”
The next few seconds were painfully silent, except for the now-painfully loud sound of Coriolanus relieving himself. He really regretted that extra glass at dinner. When he was finally finished and zipped back up, he flung open the shower curtain to reveal a sad-looking Sejanus. Staring up at him with those kicked puppy eyes, his broad arms wrapped around his large legs.
“Shouldn’t you wash your hands?”
Coriolanus felt himself flush, “Well, I was going to, but you distracted me.” He grumbled, walking to the sink and flicking the golden handle.
Sejanus lumbered out of the bathtub, his puffy, red-rimmed eyes not quite meeting Coriolanus’s. Sejanus had always been a dramatic boy, but this was a little much.
Coriolanus finished scrubbing his hands and began to dry them on the hand towel,
“Sejanus- ” he began.
“I know, I know! I shouldn’t be hiding out in here. But I don’t know what else to do! I didn’t mean to shut down at dinner, I just…”
Coriolanus suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, he placed a now-washed hand on Sejanus’s shoulder, “You can start by apologizing to Clemensia. She’s in the library waiting for me. You can sit with us until the adults are done, and then you need to apologize to them to.”
It wasn’t the first time Coriolanus had advised Sejanus in the aftermath of a social blunder. Or the second, or the third, or who knows how often he did this. He really needed to stop bailing Sejanus out of these things.
“Right.” Sejanus sounded a little dejected. Coriolanus tried not to let it anger him, but he couldn’t help but feel Sejanus should sound a little more grateful.
The two made their way down the hallway, as they entered the ajar door to the library, Coriolanus shut it behind them and noticed Clemensia was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Clemensia?”
“No idea, probably downstairs with her mother, let’s go downstairs and check.”
Sejanus bristled, “Ugh, Pa’s probably still livid. I really, really don’t want to face him right now.”
Coriolanus sighed, once again quelling the mounting urge of frustration. He was here to secure a marriage contract, not babysit a dramatic Sejanus. But he figured Clemensia would likely be back shortly, and with the men most likely preoccupied with talks of business, he figured he and Sejanus were fine to stay put for a moment.
“Okay, we’ll stay here until she comes back. I don’t want to wait around too long, though. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but It’s important for me to leave a good impression on Mr. Dovecote tonight.”
Sejanus’s brown eyes widened as his cheeks flushed a shade of ruddy red. At least he had the nerve to look ashamed,
“Oh, right.” He spoke sheepishly, “I’m sorry Coriolanus, I promise I wasn’t trying to get in the way tonight. I know this is probably important to you. If it makes you feel any better, because of me, you looked great in comparison, Mr. Dovecote would probably be pleased if you asked for his daughter’s hand,” he barked out a laugh, “me on the other hand…”
Coriolanus didn’t even get the chance to dwell on Sejanus’s shockingly good point as the thought of him in a wedding tuxedo holding the hands Clemensia, clad in a pure white dress, flashed into his mind. The idea made Coriolanus feel sick for a reason he could not place.
His mood soured and he couldn’t help but snap at Sejanus,
“Well, it’s not like you left a good impression on the man. Sejanus, I understand that times are hard and this whole thing is upsetting, but really? Storming out on dinner?”
Sejanus looked taken aback, thick eyebrows raising in confusion, he straightened before snapping back,
“It’s not just upsetting Coriolanus. Don’t you see what’s happening right now? The government isn’t just trying to maintain order; they’re trying to control the population. I can see right through all these new ‘protocols’, their taking rights away from their own people.”
Sejanus grew angrier, and Coriolanus winced as he raised his voice, “They’re treating omegas like cattle! And beta women are next! And maybe you don’t know because you haven’t bothered to read into it, but things are getting bad in the districts, martial law, mandated curfews, people are losing their rights! And you lot don’t even care, your all just worried about your precious lineages!” Sejanus gestured wildly, a bad habit he never could shake.
“We do care Sejanus! The population is declining, the doctors are saying that more women and omegas are infertile by the day, secondary genders are becoming a rarity, and nobody knows why! The Capitol is doing everything they can to fix it!”
“Fix it? That’s what you call this?”
“Yes, Sejanus!” Coriolanus was at his wits end, “Honestly, I thought you’d be happy, didn’t you hear? They’re ending the games!”
Sejanus glowered at him, “And why are they banning them Coriolanus?” his voice had become icy,
“Because-“
“Because of the population crisis! Because they’re worried they’re not going to have enough children to shove in their precious factories, their mines, and their farms! They’re worried they’re not going to have enough children to exploit to keep you lot comfortable!”
He flung his hands up in frustration, running them through his curls, before he began once again, “Not because watching twenty-three children die and one become traumatized forever is sickening! Not because it’s wrong!”
He had inched closer to Coriolanus, his wildly gesturing hand now pointing directly at him, a single, dark curl broke loose, hanging over his brown eyes, now dark with anger,
“Not because you see us as human beings. You never have, and you never will. We’re just animals to you all, cattle you can breed to keep your sick machine running. But honestly, Coriolanus,” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper,
“You all are the animals, and you know that more than anybody.”
Coriolanus’s hands clenched in rage, his nails digging into his palms. How dare he?
How dare he call Coriolanus an animal?
Sejanus, who strut around with his Pa’s fortune, the fortune Coriolanus was owed. How dare Sejanus, with his filthy backwater district blood, call him an animal. Hot, visceral anger coursed through Coriolanus, rumbling through his chest and escaping his throat in the form of a low growl.
Sejanus’s eyes widened in shocked fear. “I-I didn’t mean it like that Coriolanus, I meant that-“ He raised his palms up, backing away slowly.
Coriolanus did not let him, instead he grasped the boy’s thick wrists letting his nails dig into his skin. Every bit of shame Coriolanus ever felt from his instincts faded away. Sejanus wanted him to be an animal. Fine, he’ll show him an animal.
Capitol Alphas were meant to civilized, much more domesticated than the barbaric district alphas, but all sense left Coriolanus’s mind as he brought their chests together, twisted Sejanus wrists back hard so he could stand over him, they only had the difference of an inch between their heights, but now, Sejanus seemed much, much smaller than him.
He opened his mouth to speak, which he had only then realized was bared to show his fangs, he was unsure if he could even speak with how much he was growling, and if he could, he wasn’t sure what he would even say. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss for words. He had never been this angry before, not with Felix, not during the war, not ever. He felt sick with it.
Instead, he just stared into Sejanus’s deep brown eyes, which suddenly went wide with realization. His mouth twisted into a grimace opened, and behind Sejanus plush lips, Coriolanus realized his canines were fairly pronounced, for a Beta. Like an animal’s.
“Coriolanus, I need you to let go.”
Always the victim, Sejanus Plinth. Coriolanus tightened his grasp. Sejanus began to plead with him,
“I’m being serious, please let go. I’m –“
Sejanus’s face went uncharacteristically pale as the scent of cinnamon drifted into his senses.
Cinnamon.
When was the last time he smelled cinnamon?
Before the war, his mother sitting in a soft chair in the garden. Him perched in her lap as she ran her hand through his curls. She was reading him a story, what it was about, he could not remember, but he remembers the plate of cinnamon crumb cake sitting next to her. He remembered himself bringing bite of it into his mouth with a clumsy, chubby hand. She wiped his mouth and giggled, kissing the top of his head. It was his fifth birthday. He had felt his baby sister kick in his mother’s belly.
It was his earliest memory. He had completely forgotten it.
The anger left Coriolanus. Becoming replaced with a confused, steadily mounting feeling sitting low in his belly.
He let go of Sejanus’s wrists who clamored backwards into the table he and Clemensia sat at earlier. One hand clenched his stomach, the other gripped the table so tight his tan knuckles were nearly white.
“I-I you can’t tell anyone. In fact, you need to leave right now!” Sejanus stammered out, the color returned to his face, this time, in the form of a red, ruddy blush spread across his cheeks. Sweat beaded at his forehead as the scent of Cinnamon grew stronger.
Oh.
OH.
“Sejanus…” he began, head now swimming, he felt his legs were going to give out underneath him, “Are you…?”
He stared at Sejanus, and was reminded of another memory, the video they watched in class once, the grainy cartoon of a cornered rabbit. Trembling with fear before it was snapped up in the jaws of a hungry fox. They had been shown the video by Dr. Gaul in their middle school biology class. The class had been horrified, especially Sejanus, but Doctor Gaul had simply switched the video off and explained,
“Now, now. Don’t feel sorry for the wretched creature, see class, the world belongs to the strong, and the strong feed on the weak, don’t they? It’s simply the natural order of things.”
Sejanus shook just like the rabbit, and the sight of him, paired with the smell assaulting Coriolanus’s senses, brought him to the dawning realization,
“An Omega?”
Sejanus stared at him with wide eyes, before shaking his head up and down frantically, and then gasped out,
“Pa wanted me to keep it a secret. I was their only son… and an Omega can’t run the family business.”
Coriolanus stepped closer, and closer, until he was once again, a hair’s length away from him. This time, he was not driven by anger, instead a deeper urge compelled him, overpowering any sense of rational thought left in his brain.
“I need you to leave Coriolanus’s, I don’t know what’s happening. Well, I do… I just don’t know why now. Even after I took my suppressants right before this.” He panted chest, rising and falling rapidly,
“God,” That was not the first time Coriolanus heard him say that word. He had never heard it before, just assumed it was some silly district thing. “God, this cant be happening. Not again.” He gasped.
Not again?
Oh, OH. The day with Felix. Sejanus had the same expression on his face when Coriolanus looked up at him, had it happened then too? Had Sejanus run off to choke down enough suppressants so he could sit in the same room with Coriolanus without losing control?
The average heat lasted four days. Sejanus was gone for the same amount of time.
“You need to go Coriolanus. Tell Pa I’m not feeling well, he’ll know what it means.”
He could not understand it, but he could not leave. He needed to, Sejanus was right. But the overwhelming, confusing desire overtook him. He remembered one final memory, the morning of his presentation, the girl’s scent, his sickness, his desire to follow that girl.
Coriolanus still cannot discern the difference between sickness and desire.
Sejanus hot breath fanned against his neck and Coriolanus felt himself pulse with hot, sick, need. He only then realized his fangs were still bared, as a drop of saliva fell from his lips, and landed against Sejanus’s cheek.He followed it with his eyes, then, with his face, as he brought his nose to the side of Sejanus’s neck, right by his scent gland. Tugged down the high collar of his shirt, And inhaled deeply.
Cinnamon.
The crumb cake. His mother. His fortune. The comfort and prosperity of his life.
All things he was owed.
And Sejanus, was he not owed him as well?
All the years of saving him, of guiding him, the boy, whom he thought was a Beta, had been an Omega this whole time. A rare prize, especially in this day and age. Sejanus the Omega, whom Coriolanus had been protecting his whole life.
The boy who had gone into heat because of him.
And after that day, clung to him even more than he ever had. Waiting for him after every class, staring at him longingly across the lunchroom, giving him baskets of his Ma’s fresh bread when he knew he was hungry.
Sejanus whined, the sound making Coriolanus shiver as the scent of cinnamon grew stronger.
Was Sejanus not his? Didn’t every Omega need an Alpha? Was that not the natural order of things.
Sejanus trembled beside him. He brought his arms up, at first Coriolanus thought to push him away, that would have been the rational thing to do. But instead, Sejanus wrapped his thick arms around Coriolanus’s frame.
Warmth bloomed in Coriolanus’s chest. He wanted him. He wanted his alpha.
The rabbit, baring itself for the fox’s jaws.
In one motion, Coriolanus spun Sejanus around, draped himself over his back, and sank his fangs into the back of Sejanus’s neck.
Euphoria overcame him, and Sejanus choked out a broken moan. Sejanus was his, and only his. Always had been.
And now, his place in society had been sealed. Him above Sejanus, Sejanus underneath him.
Coriolanus’s ears picked up the sound of the door opening,
“Sejanus, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. It’s time to- My God.”
Coriolanus retracted his fangs from the boy’s neck, and shot up, still clinging to Sejanus. And he felt his stomach drop as he made eye contact with Strabo Plinth.