Chapter Text
The king is dead.
It doesn’t take long; the people aren’t quiet, and the news spreads like wildfire across the lands.
They spill the news into each other’s ears, the words are sparse and the lack of information is apparent. Though there is one thing that sticks to every string of gossip. It doesn’t ease the worry of the loss of a leader, it increases it.
“The son is next in line.”
“The omega?”
“That boy is going to be the backbone of our kingdom?”
That boy is currently hunched over porcelain and reaching because the loss of his father doesn’t just shake him, it brings him to his knees. There’s tears building in his eyes, and his throat is closing up with choked down emotion. The only thing he can keep down at this point.
Someone is shouting from the other room. He guesses it could be his mother, or his sister.
Most likely leaning against each other for support as they stare down at the body that’s started to stiffen. They are both crying, but his mother sounds beyond wrecked. It is her mate after all, and it sounds like there’s broken glass where her heart should be.
It’s an awful sound, and all Yuuri can do is stare down into the murky toilet water.
Spineless, weak, and incapable are all running through his mind as the priest speaks from the other side of the wall. He’s finishing up with a Corinthians verse while Yuuri stares down at his numb hands. ‘It’s scary,’ he thinks childishly, ‘I’m so scared.’ Another wail from his mother and he’s standing up on legs that threaten to give out.
The bathroom feels so small, it’s too small. He’s gagging on his own pheromones and that’s a first. The smell is making him sick, it clouding his head, and all he can hear is grief and fucking bible verses. So he pushes the door open and runs away.
He escapes and tries not to let the sounds, the scents, the moment swallow him whole.
He knows his sister won’t chase him, neither will his mother. Because they are doing what he should be doing. Facing what needs to be faced. They’re are starting to grieve head first, and Yuuri is running away with his tail between his legs. The nightly air whips his face, and he doesn’t know where he’s going.
There’s no destination in mind, but he likes the fact his heart is pounding. That the blood is pumping. It distracts him, not greatly, but it takes his attention in its hand briefly and that enough for him.
Doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s crossing into unknown territory. Even when the twigs crack under his boots, and his arms shoot up to push away the brush. All he can focus on is running, running, and not letting his emotions spill over. It’s irrational and he knows he’s behaving like a child, but he can’t draw himself back.
He cannot stop his feet from moving beneath him.
“Take care of your mother and sister,” he hears. It’s fresh and rips him wide open and sends him crashing down.
The air ripples and he smacks the ground face first. His nose gushes and it’s a horrid mixture of blood and tears. It dribbles into his mouth and he can taste the iron and salt, but he doesn’t care. His fingers get lost in the dewy grass and he digs his nails into the earth. It’s grounding him best it can, but he can’t stop screaming and sobbing.
It’s messy and loud and for the first time in years he’s praying. Yuuri prays for his father, he prays for his family, and he even prays for himself.
He turns his head and stares numbly at the clearing around him, it’s sideways and his chest rattles with uneven breaths. If he twists his neck just a little more he can see the stars. They are twinkling in a pool of black, and Yuuri oddly envies them. By now his nails are deeply submerged in wet dirt, and his nose has stopped bleeding.
“I let you down.”
There’s nothing, nothing but the sound of his presence and the occasional cricket.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
The tears come again. His emotions aren’t white hot, and he can feel this pain. It isn’t a numbing sensation, it’s sharp and real. Enough to dampen his cheeks and wrap a hand around his heart. It doesn’t crush it, only gives a squeeze now and again. It’s rough, but he lets himself get washed up in it.
He needs to grieve. So he turns on his back and cries into the night with a hand against his aching chest.
He thinks about his father’s kind, tired smile, his gentle words. The way his hand intertwined with his mother’s and how he managed to lift an arm and ruffle Yuuri’s hair with what strength he had left. It hurts, but he grips this memory and pulls for more.
Goes back to when his father gripped his shoulder when he presented as an omega. How he cleaned his tears and told him everything would be fine.
How he held their foreheads together and promised it would be fine.
The smile on Yuuri’s face now is trembling and strained. He laughs, it’s shrill, it’s all going to be fine. His father was never a liar and the look in his eye was so sure, so solid. It was as he got a peek into the future himself.
He promised.
“You’ll catch your death out here.”
The voice elicits a scream from Yuuri and he goes shooting upwards like a corpse resurrecting. Doesn’t face the voice until he’s scrambled to at least sit on his knees. He looks forward and he honestly doesn’t know what he’s seeing.
It’s dark, and the thing that’s speaking to him is standing eerily still. Shadowed by the trees and leaned against the tree beside him as he simply stares. Yuuri knows he’s staring, because even if he can’t make out the face it’s got eyes. It’s like when you’re a child and you press your reddened nose against a frozen lake.
You try to look past the ice, maybe see a bunch of froze over inhabitants, but all you can see is more ice.
Yuuri takes a cautious step back.
“Who are you?”
The man laughs, so Yuuri guesses. The voice is silky, but deep, it’s fairly masculine with its own little charm. Though when he speaks his voice takes on a sharp edge. Hardly noticeable, but gets the point across.
“I live here.”
Yuuri’s mind is working overtime. It’s trying to pull some sort of intelligible response, but all he can think repetitively is, ‘he lives here?’ The shadow gives no time for him to respond as he steps into the clearing. The sight causes him to stop breathing and his eyes are wide with too many emotions to count because he’s nearing.
Tall and with the build of a dancer, Yuuri knows well what this man is. He traces the intricate tattoos on their bare arms, the black swirls and angry red markings that mare the porcelain like skin beneath. They are letters, symbols, and a brand for the worst creatures to roam.
“Demon,” Yuuri whispers.
The creature stops in front of him. It takes the trembling omega’s chin between his fingers and draws his face close. The moonlight washes over them, and Yuuri his heartbeat can be heard for miles. If the way, the demon is smiling gives him any idea. He whines at the sight of those teeth. Two sharp incisors that gleam threateningly.
“Demon,” it confirms; leans a little closer, his nose twitches, and he smiles. “Omega.”
There’s a pause, too long for Yuuri’s liking. Then a little laugh fills what tiny space is between them and a hand lightly traces his bare arm. The skin pebbles under the touch, and he can feel the blade of every nail.
“Why anything could happen.”