#ofc this would imply betas having a scent

[ashercries23]

would HRT affect an alpha, omega, or betas scent based on the hormone being taken???

[manawhaat]

Purr

Title: Purr

Characters: Plus-sized!Reader x Henry Cavill, ofc friends named Ruth and Alexis.

Summary: When you meet Henry, you instantly click and one night promises to turn into more. 

Warnings: One mention of the film 365 Days, drunk!Henry, fluff, mild/implied smut (all smut is sober because consent is a must and this ain’t one of those fics). 

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Commissioned by @dorky-and-i-know-it​ . No beta, just free-ballin’ this one. :)

An old episode of Supernatural plays as you crochet your Saturday night away. The couch is cozy and you’re nestled in for good, ready to enjoy your evening of solitude when your front door starts jiggling.

Alarmed, you jump up from your spot and grab the closest thing you can find to use a weapon, cautiously approaching your door as someone on the outside continues to try and break in. As you inch closer, ready to strike with the lamp from your side-table, the sounds of loud shushing and giggling outside turn your fear to confusion.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna get us caught,” a voice whispers loudly.

Yanking the door open, the would-be intruders scream and jump, stumbling over each other and dropping their ‘lock picks’ as you glare down at them.

“I told you you were gonna get us caught,” Ruth hisses, smacking Alexis.

With a shake of your head, you stand back and let your two best friends into your apartment, asking with a hand on your hip, “So were you trying to break into my apartment or did you felons just get the wrong door?”

Alexis snorts a laugh and grabs the lamp out of your hand. “Um, we’re actually kidnapping you, so don’t go getting any ideas about fighting us off, Rambo.”

“Hmm, if it’s anything like 365 Days then count me in!”

Half an hour later they��ve dressed you in your favorite sexy dress and have you stuck between them in the backseat of a cab.

When you arrive at the bar that Alexis chose, music and chatter fill the room. Country joints just have a certain charm about them that you can never resist. The grumpy attitude you’d started with quickly falls away as you and your friends find a high top table near the old jukebox. You take turns picking songs and ordering drinks for each other, and before you know it, your song starts playing.

“Let’s dance,” Ruth cheers.  

Chris Young croons through the bar and you are dragged to the small wooden dance floor with your friends, singing along and dancing with each other. A pretty boy and a cowboy try to cut in but your girls bat them off, telling you that you can do better. You’re not sure you believe them, but your picked song pulls your attention back into your body. It moves on its own and you surrender to the music and alcohol, enjoying the high.

Alexis takes you in her arms, playfully grinding against you and winking before twirling you around and around. Laughter bubbles out of you as you start getting dizzy, and her hand loses hold of yours, sending you stumbling off your feet and into a large body. Strong arms catch you and pull you close enough to feel the firmness of his body against yours. Whoever he is, he’s warm and solid, and you catch a whiff of sandalwood, beer, and sweat. It shouldn’t smell good, but it makes your eyes flutter and before you can stop yourself, you lean into him, hand pressed to his broad chest, and inhale that intoxicating scent again.

It makes you purr and hum appreciatively, but a deep chuckle snaps you out of it and you jerk back, bewildered eyes open wide as you stare up at the man you’d just sniffed like a fucking creep. Deep blue eyes take you in and his lips quirk up, neon lights playing off his curly hair and the razor sharp line of his strong jaw.

All logic flies from your brain and instead of apologizing, you gasp with mortification. “Oh my god, I just sniffed Superman.”

Henry laughs loud and deep, still holding you upright as you bury your face behind your hands.

His smile lowers and he leans in a little. At first you think he’s trying to kiss you, and the thought inspires equal parts awe and suspense. With an unrestrained drunken giggle, he sniffs near your neck, and then it’s your turn to laugh loudly. The way his body sways slightly into yours tells you he’s already had a couple of drinks, but the humor turns to a buzz when the scent of your perfume draws a groan of approval from his throat.

Before you can even process the inhumanely sexy sound you just heard come from this giant of a man, a shout startles you two apart.

“Oh shit, it’s Superman!”

On instinct, Henry pushes you behind him, shielding you from the several fans that rush forward to greet him. Sending you an apologetic smile, he obliges with a slight mirth in his eyes and the top button of his blue shirt undone.

As celebrities do, Henry inadvertently draws a crowd, and when the few people suddenly turn into a mob, his security ushers him out of the building. Without a thought, your feet push you after him, but you’re unable to get very far with everyone chasing after him.

Two hands land on your shoulders and your friends shoot you half smiles, leading you out to a cab that takes you to the next bar of the night; The Ocean Side. It’s your favorite place and once you settle in, your friends address the elephant in the room.

“Okay, okay, but I can’t believe you sniffed Henry Cavill,” Ruth giggles into her drink.

“I can’t believe Henry Cavill sniffed you back!” Alexis exclaims.

Through the sound of your laughter, a familiar voice carries on the breeze. This time, when your eyes meet Henry’s, there’s a spark behind his smile; one that carries relief and joy and surprise. He beelines across the bar and your heart skips a beat when his hands find yours.

“Hello, again. I think this time I’ll ask before I don’t have the chance… would you like to dance?”

Your friends practically push you out of your seat and into his arms and you hold back laughter as you agree and let him lead you down to the beach. With your feet in the soft sand, Henry pulls you close and sways with you to the live music playing from the bar.  

“You know, it’s not often I run into the same person twice, but I’m glad I found you again. And I’m glad I‘ve got this chance to dance with you.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know what’s happening, but I’m happy you found me, too,” you admit, face warm and heart racing. Having this kind of attention has always been a little awkward for you, but to have Henry looking into your eyes with such blatant attraction leaves you weak in the knees and hoping to never wake up from the dream.

As the song ends, his body moves impossibly closer and when you tip your chin up, his lips are parted and perfectly soft. It’s unconscious, the way you both move closer, but utterly natural. Before his lips meet yours, cool water crashes against the shore and the wave surges up to your knees. The two of you jump in surprise and as quickly as it had come, the moment is gone.

Henry and his guard join your group on the beachfront patio, drinking and enjoying the night before everyone switches to water. Unfortunately, it’s already too late for Henry. There’s two buttons undone on his shirt, exposing a forest of chest hair you shamelessly admire, and his soft curls have come untamed. He’s properly drunk, but he’s utterly adorable and you catch your heart running away from you every time his charming smile is aimed your way.

Neither of you have gone back in for another kiss, but you’ve been drawing closer, and when your laughter rings out again, Henry’s heavy body presses into yours. Eyes catching for just a second, the air shifts and suddenly your mouths finally meet.

The shock of it sends a jolt of electricity through your body, but his large hands on your waist and the small of your back have you melting into him and deepening the kiss. Everything disappears and for a moment it’s just you and Henry, hearts pitter pattering against your chests with the exhilaration of it all.

Whistling and cheering ultimately break you apart, but when his eyes finally open and he takes you in, he’s mortified. With a look, you understand his fear; that he had been drunkenly inappropriate, not that he regrets it. He opens his mouth and you can see the apology on the tip of his tongue.

Before he can say anything, you pull him back and kiss him again. “If you meant it, don’t apologize.”

A wolfish smile tugs at his lips and just like that, your heart is fluttering and his mouth reclaims yours.  

When everyone is ready to call it a night, he shoots you a flirtatious grin and your cheeks warm at the implication. He is a little too drunk for anything physical, but you’ve never felt a kiss as exhilarating as his, so you’re happy to go home with him and keep talking. His cheeks are flushed and he’s adorably disheveled by the time his big body sways out of the car. He leans on you as he leads you into the building, humming into your hair when the elevator carries you up to the penthouse.

When the door closes and locks behind you two, it’s quiet, but comfortable. Kal greets you both, big body wagging back and forth as you make your way into the beautiful space. He sniffs around and follows along as Henry leads you into the kitchen to put a kettle on.  

While the water warms, his hands lay gently on the curves of your body, pulling you close enough to whisper against your hair. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he says, swaying lightly to the sound of water rolling to a boil.

A grin forms on your lips. “I wasn’t gonna go out tonight. My friends basically kidnapped me.”

His chest vibrates against yours with his chuckled reply, “Neither was I… funny how those things happen, hmm?”

You nod and pull back, amazed to find vulnerability staring back at you. Somehow, you can see the center of him, and it warms you to feel the sensual edge of his gaze. It’s a low kindle that simmers through him, but he tames it and shoots you a boyish grin. “Can we cuddle?”

The question comes from left field but makes your heart melt and you run your fingers through his soft, messy curls, watching his mouth crack open into a drunken smile. “We can absolutely cuddle.”

With the magic words said, the whole height of him crumbles into your arms and you stumble back against the counter with a laugh, holding him tight as he buries his face in your neck and growls like the giant teddy bear he is. His weight against you is comforting in a way you didn’t think it would be. His mouth is soft and open against your skin, hot puffs of his breath fanning over your neck. You’re sure he can feel the way it makes your heart tick, but he doesn’t move, just breathes you in and out until the kettle whistles.

Henry groans reluctantly but stands and you wave him off when he reaches for the kettle. “Go sit down, I’ll make it and be right there.”

He drops a kiss to your temple and Kal follows him away. As you make two cups of tea, soft playful sounds float through the air and you find Henry wrestling with Kal when you make it back to the living room. Henry meets your eyes and pushes himself up to his feet, grinning down at you with a devilish smile. “Shall we move this party to the bedroom?” You balk and he laughs, shaking his head. “Not like that. Come on, love. The bed is big enough for the three of us.”

Henry takes the tea and leads you into the bedroom, a gorgeous space with floor-to-ceiling glass; a panoramic view of the Sydney skyline. And he’s right. The bed is probably the biggest you’ve ever seen, and it makes you feel tiny when you’ve crawled in and found a spot nestled against Henry’s side. Kal lays across the foot of the bed and Henry is warm and solid against you. After a few moments in your position, you’d almost gotten totally comfortable, but the band of your bra is digging into your ribs, pinching and making your otherwise magical night very uncomfortable.

He murmurs into your hair when you wiggle and try to delicately adjust.  “Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm.”

Henry pulls back and his brows furrow down at you, not believing your non-answer. “Okay, fine,” you huff.

Sitting up you fiddle around and remove your bra from under your dress, tossing it to the end of the bed before meeting his gaze. Red feathers his cheeks and those cobalt eyes burn as he processes what you just did. A playful growl rumbles in his chest and you squeal when he grabs you tight and pulls you back into him.

Now that you’re totally comfortable, you let out the softest of purrs, and that deep voice echoes against you, dark and amused. “Aww, kitten.”

Heat swells between your legs at the pet name, and the thickness of him presses against your belly. He chuckles softly and you know it’s a promise of what’s to come when the booze wears off.

An hour passes as you and Henry talk and cuddle, warm breaths mingled close as you spill your heart out and let him do the same. It catches you off guard with how naturally you two fit. Something clicked in you the second you landed in his arms, and there’s a mirth in his voice that suggests he feels it too.

The time between every question stretches, eventually giving way to a comfortable silence that lures you both to sleep.

---

Something wet and cold slides along your hand and wrist and you flinch before your bleary eyes make out the source of the touch. Kal licks your hand again and crawls between you and Henry, nose digging into your neck and face. Sleepy laughter bubbles from your throat and the sounds of you and Kal muse Henry from his sleep.

You kiss Kal’s snout and Henry grumbles as he gets up to let him out. When he comes back, there’s a heat in his touch. His fingers slide along your wrist and lift your hand to his mouth, where he places soft kisses on the pads of each of your fingers.

“Good morning,” he drawls, admiring how soft you are in the bed beneath him. “Y/n…” his big body lurks forward, a hand landing on the bed beside your head to support his weight. “I want you.”

Every nerve lights up at his words, at the way his eyes stroke along your face and body with pure desire. It’s morning and he’s hard now that the alcohol is worn off. The heft of him against your inner thigh warms you to your core. This surely must be a dream, and you don’t ever want to wake up. Your fingers trace up his arm to the muscles of his shoulders and back.

“I want you, too.”

Henry smiles, licks his lips and goes in for a kiss that starts out soft and sweet, but soon turns desperate. Grabbing at each other, clothes are tossed away and with every inch of skin exposed, Henry sinks deeper and deeper into his need for you. When all of your clothes are pushed off, he kneels and gazes down at you, mouth softly parted in awe, as if you’re the greatest treasure he’s ever seen.

A shiver works through you at his touch, soft and curious gliding up your body until his mouth meets yours once more. He kisses you deep and strong, enjoying himself as he tastes and feels you wriggle against him with need. His tongue licks your lips and he nips at your jaw and down your chest. Admiration glimmers in his eyes when he looks up at you from between your breasts, those soft lips wet and teasing your sensitive sensitive flesh. “Now, let’s get you purring again, hmm kitten.”

[sillyrabbit81]

The Pull

Summary: Alternative Universe. Vampire Henry. Henry, Crown Prince of the Vampires is avoiding his responsibilities because of his mother's fate. When Henry finds his mate, the circumstances are eerily similar to his mother's. Rather than risking his mate's life, Henry chooses to run, but can he run from his fate?

Pairing: Henry x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.3k

Warnings: mild smut, implied blood play.

Authors Note: Thanks to @henryobsessed for beta reading and support!

Masterlist

Part 9 Part 11

Part 10

Henry

Drawing in ragged breaths, I steadied myself and sat on the sofa waiting for my Little Fawn to come downstairs. The sight of her naked body in the mirror played on an unrelenting loop in my mind.

Oh, Lilith, she was perfection with her pert breasts, pinkish little nipples, her generous hips and narrow waist. It was fortuitous I had only been able to see her bare chest because I did not doubt that if I saw her enticing sex, nothing short of Lilith herself would have stopped me from taking her.

She had bare feet, a sweater but no bra and yoga pants which showed her shapely thighs nicely. I inhaled sharply as I noticed she had ditched the thigh armour. Her breasts bounced slightly, provocatively, as she carefully made her way down the stairs. Her nipples were hard from the chill in the evening air and poked against her thin sweater. Her hair was still up in a messy bun like it had been in the shower, and I longed to see her hair fanned out on a pillow as I took her.

She smelled delicious. The scent of her skin layered beneath her fruity soap made my mouth water, my fangs descended and my Lust rose. I was still quite full from the three men I fed on last night, but I may need to sneak away and feed again early in the morning or first thing tomorrow night. I will probably have to try to sleep in the day tomorrow. I don't need to sleep, but it is enjoyable and helps keep my mind clear.

"I have some chicken and a few steaks. What would you like to eat?" My Little Fawn asked.

Biting back my desire to remind her that I only wanted to drink and from her, I said I'd prefer the steaks. I shadowed her around the kitchen, not wanting to be more than an arms reach away from her. The memory of the Pull was still fresh in my mind, and the urges had not completely abated.

Busying herself about the kitchen, she kept turning from here to there, nearly bumping into me as she gathered her supplies. If I hadn't had a Vampires enhanced reflexes, she would have crashed into me several times. Eventually, she got angry at my loitering.

"Either help me or go and sit and wait," she said, aiming the point of a knife at my chest.

Taken aback by her demand, I sat at the kitchen island. "I don't know how to cook," I admitted. I never had to, I always had servants to do it for me, or I usually stayed with other royal families when I was away. Cooking had never come up.

"How old are you?" She asked narrowing her eyes.

"180 years."

"And you've never cooked? Ever?"

I shook my head. "I've never needed to."

She looked puzzled then remembered who I was. "Right, prince," she said flatly.

I shrugged, a little offended by her tone. "When we mate, you will be a princess, you know. Queen one day," I reminded her pointedly. She flinched. I wondered which part particularly displeased her, the mating or the titles.

"Want to learn to cook?" She asked, forcing a smile.

"Sure," I said without much enthusiasm.

"Okay," she genuinely grinned then, and for the first time, I felt like she smiled at me with joy in her heart.

We made a greek salad together, standing side by side at the kitchen bench. She showed me how to cut the cucumber, the red onion, the fetta, how to tear the cos lettuce and wash it and then we added the olives and olive oil and lemon.

Despite my earlier lack of interest, I found it enjoyable to do something as mundane as preparing a meal. It gave me a chance to watch my Little Fawn without her becoming self-conscious. I observed her mannerisms, the way her lips pursed when she tried to hold back a smile, how she played with her earlobe when she was impatient and the way her dainty fingers seemed to caress the handle of the knife as she chopped. I found myself distracted several times, lost in her subtle gestures. She was very appealing when she wasn't angry and pointing knives at me. Although, there was something precious about her useless threats.

When it was time for the steaks, she instructed me on how to season them and got me to cook them in the pan. She set the table while I stood over the stove, waiting a couple of minutes before turning them. I was surprised when she came up close to me to peer over my shoulder. She put her hand on my upper back and leaned into my arm. "Ohh, that looks good," she said.

I gasped at her touch, it was so unexpected. Lilith, she was so close. I could feel her body heat against my arm, and her gentle fragrance washed over me. She looked up at me in alarm when she heard my hiss. I watched as her eyes took in how she was standing. She took a step back and muttered a sorry.

"No, Little Fawn," I said. I brought her under my arm and rested it on her shoulders. "Stay," I said, smiling down at her. She smiled back before leaning her head into me and returning her arm to my back. I hummed, contentedly, as I felt her breasts at my side, and with each of her tiny breaths, they pressed temptingly into me. Lilith, it was nice having her close.

When the food was done and plated, we ate. My Little Fawn ate slowly, taking her time. She didn't mix her food, eating her salad and meat separately. I don't know why it was endearing, but I found it so.

While I was content to watch her eat, she had said she wanted to talk. I noticed her brows furrow a few times as she ate, but then her face would relax. It was like she was having an internal dialogue or argument with herself. I decided to help her out and asked, "So, I assume you had questions, Little Fawn. You can ask me anything."

She didn't look at me, but she stooped eating and played with her food, moving it around her plate. "Why did I dream about you?" she asked faintly.

I was surprised by her question. "What do you mean?"

"About six years ago, I started having a dream where I was in my garden, and you walked into the yard then kneeled as you did at Alex's house." She looked at me then, her eyes shone with gathering tears. "Then you're about to say something, and I wake up."

I immediately knew why. I was going to have to do something about Lawrence. He had overstepped his boundaries too many times. How much should I tell her, I wondered. But I deliberated briefly, instinctively knowing that once we consummated the bond, it would be difficult to keep secrets from her. Best to be honest from the outset.

"It's not so much a dream as much as it is a memory." Her eyes widened. "You're remembering the night we first met."

"But I don't remember that. It's a dream," she insisted.

"No, Little Fawn," I said. "Six years ago, I was taking a walk, and I picked up your scent and followed it to you. I knelt like that because it is the traditional way we approach our mates. Our mates are human, and therefore it could be quite frightening the first time you encounter us. So traditionally, we approach in a way to make our mates feel at ease, to show them we aren't a threat."

She huffed at that, "You're about to take a woman away from her family. You're definitely a threat."

I smiled back at her, "Well, usually our mates come willingly."

She snickered, "I suppose I had to be difficult."

I shook my head and smirked at her, "Actually, you were quite willing." Fawn blinked rapidly in shock. "But I smelled your child on you, so I left." My smirk left as I remembered the pain of the moment I smelled the babe and her breasts full of milk. The hurt, the rage, and the fear I felt was raw. Even now, having her here with me, the memory still stung.

"Because of your parents?" she asked.

I nodded. "I sent Lawrence to check that my assumptions were correct, and if you were a mother, he was to Coerce you into forgetting the meeting. I resolved to come back when the child was grown and take you then."

"What if I had married or something?"

"I wasn't going to let that happen. I got Lawrence to check on you frequently. Which incidentally, is how he met your brother."

"Maybe fate did have a hand in it," she said to herself. To me, she asked, "If Lawrence Coerced me, why did I remember you?"

"I think Lawrence did it on purpose. Lawrence is a loyal friend with a good heart, but he is very manipulative when he wants to be. I'd hazard a guess he thought keeping me in your dreams was an easy way for you not to forget me and to make his charge of safeguarding you from other male advances easier."

"Well, it worked," she said. "You were the man in my dreams that no others seemed to match." Quietly, she added, "I couldn't get you off my mind."

"I assure you, Little Fawn, you were always on my mind too." I wanted to go to her then and hold her. But if tonight has taught me anything, it was that I needed to let her come to me. I didn't need to seduce her, I needed to be patient and give her time. However, that was easier said than done.

She blushed, her cheeks filling with blood, and I could hear her raised heartbeat. I caught a faint whiff of arousal tickling my nose, my fangs descend, and my sex grew in my pants. Trying to ignore her signs of desire, I took a drink of wine. Its bold, dry taste was a poor substitute for her veins' sweet nectar.

She stood up and cleared the plates. Instead of coming around near me, she leaned over the table. My gaze was drawn to her loose sweater, which fell forward as she collected my plate, and for a few tantalising moments, Little Fawn briefly displayed her breasts. Groaning internally, I looked away. Restraining myself was not going to be easy. How was I going to let her come to me when every movement she made drove me to distraction?

She cleaned the plates and stacked the dishwasher. Then she filled the basin with water and began to wash up the pan we used. It was strange watching her do domestic tasks. I never thought about my mate doing those kinds of things. My mate was to be a princess, and here I was, letting her clean pans like a commoner. But something about it was nice, wholesome even. Cooking with her was a pleasant experience, not the chore I had always assumed it would be. And she was alluring with her sleeves pushed up and... My body acted before my mind caught up, her sleeves were raised, and she had taken off the silver bracelets.

With my Lust rioting through me, I was on her with supernatural speed. My body pressed hers against the bench, and I lifted her wet wrist to my mouth. My fangs scraped the delicate skin over her pulsing vein. My free hand went around her waist, clutching her unholstered breasts, kneading them over her clothes. My cock throbbed against her lower back, and I bent my knees to rut against her. Grunting with the effort, I tried to gain some control, but the promise of her delectable and unguarded vein was too much temptation. I took in her horrified look, hoping it would calm me.

"My Inamorata," I whispered, "My little Fawn." I inhaled her wrist, seeking the scent of her blood. She trembled in my arms, and I could smell her terror. Her fear no longer held the deterrent it once did. Not now that I knew she wanted me too.

"Please, Henry," Her voice quivered. Was she pleading to be taken or pleading to be let go?

I flicked my tongue out and tasted her skin. Unable to hold it in, I growled, shuddered and pressed myself against her harder. My fangs ached, desperate, the potency of her skin rocked my entire world, nothing had ever tasted so sweet, and I was yet to taste all of her. "Fuck, Little Fawn. Lilith never made anything as delicious as you."

She moaned, rocking her ass back to meet me, but her words didn't match her actions. "Please don't," she softly begged.

I fought myself. I looked into her eyes. I wanted her so much, and she wanted me. I had no doubt I could take her, make her take the necklace off, and she would say yes to me. But I would not have that be the beginning for us. Forcing her would cause her anger to fester. I will not be my father.

Placing a kiss on her wrist, I let her go. The thought of my father was enough for me to get a modicum of control. Smiling at her and trying to allay her fears, I said, "Sorry, Little Fawn, you're just too appealing. I forgot my manners."

She didn't smile, and she turned back to her cleaning. She rinsed the pan with fresh water, dried it off, and put it away. "Thanks for helping," she said finally.

"Helping?" I laughed scornfully. "I wouldn't know where to begin."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, so you can't cook, you can't clean. You can't control yourself. What can you do?" Her eyes flashed with anger. Oh, she wasn't happy. She dried her hands and put the bracelets back on. She didn't pull her sleeves down over them. She stared at me, arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Hmm, this evening was a case of one step forward, two steps back.

Part 11

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh

[princessmisery666]

Sharing Dean Winchester (Dean x OFC) - Chapter 10

Story Summary: Lexie Walker, Sam’s best friend from Stanford use to hunt with the Winchester’s. Fearing she would be the cause of them getting hurt or worse, Lexie left them. Once she had got her revenge, she seeks out the boys only to find Sam living the apple pie life with Amelia and Dean missing. Dean returns from Purgatory and they partner up to hunt. They soon find themselves benefiting from each other’s company in other ways.

Warnings: Smut, language, implied smut, angst, fluff, hurt Dean, Dean being Dean, self-loathing Dean. Usual SPN violence (mentioned), oral sex, confident female (yes that’s a warning!) 

Word Count: 51k (over 11 chapters)

Notes: Set around season 8. Written from Dean POV and OC POV. Story complete.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female OC, Sam Winchester, Benny (tiny part), 

Characters (Mention only): Jody Mills, Charlie Bradbury, Amelia Richardson, Castiel

Pairing: Dean x Female OC.

Beta: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba - thank you for everything and all the ideas. All mistakes are my own. 

Chapter Summary - The consequences of Lexie’s hasty actions catch up to her and the boys.

GIFS NOT MINE

Sharing Dean Winchester - Master List 

Chapter 10

Lexie POV

The crisp morning, autumn air stings my face, but it’s refreshing. It’s nice to breathe in fresh air. The bunkers ventilation system is amazing, but it’s not the same as breathing in lungful’s of pure pine-scented oxygen.

I feel sick, my stomach a little fragile. I guess my lack of sleep, not eating properly and too much whiskey is catching up with me. But I push past it, running will help, exercise and fresh air. 

Running normally helps clear my head, gives me time to get my thoughts in order. Today is an exception, after running for almost thirty minutes, my mind isn’t any clearer. I have no idea what I’m doing with Tyler. I’ve been reading books, researching, and visited a million websites, yet I’m no closer to a cure. I’m struggling to believe there is one.  

Dean and I have agreed to go back to being friends. I want that, I really do, I miss having him as a friend. Although, I’m not sure what that even means for us. I know I’m not going back on the road with the Winchester’s or moving back into the bunker. It worked before Dean and I slept together, but now that line has been crossed, it won’t work. Mainly because I know myself well enough to understand watching Dean hook up with other women is not something I can deal with. 

It’s nice to know if I need the back-up I can call Sam or Dean and it won’t be awkward between us, that assurance will have to be enough. Maybe with a bit more time I will be able to get over him. It took me a while, but I understand now he doesn’t love me. He cares about me, I know he does, but I mistook lust and passion for love. It was wishful thinking, on my part, that he ever loved me as more than a warm body to play with. 

I was drunk the night he threw me in the shower, depressed and guilt ridden because of Tyler. I wanted to feel something other than numb, so I’m glad Dean walked away.  I can’t sleep with him again when it doesn’t mean anything more than sex. Kissing him would have been a death sentence, sleeping with him would have been suicide.

This morning I was having fun teasing him about making him nervous. I was expecting him to stop me, it made me nervous when he didn’t. I know he was going to kiss me, I know his touch too well, his timid fingers under my chin were bringing my head up to kiss him.

Dean may be able to separate sex and emotions, but I can’t, not when it comes to him. 

I hear the crack of a twig breaking, and fallen leaves crunching underfoot. I’m twisting to locate the sound, when the butt of a gun hits my left temple. My vision blurs, white and black spots dance around the trees. I feel the tickle, as blood trickles from the cut above my eye. I stumble but catch myself against a thick pine trunk. 

I find my gun-toting assailant in my blurry vision. A blonde woman, five foot ten, clad in jeans and a leather jacket, points the black, nine millimetre gun in my face. I don’t know who she is. The snarl on her lips tells me she knows exactly who I am, “Where’s Tyler?”  

Dean POV

I take a shower whilst Lexie goes for her run, then head to the kitchen to make breakfast. I’m going to make her pancakes and bacon so crispy it crumbles, her favourite. We’re going to sit in the kitchen and I’m going to tell her I’m stupidly, madly in love with her. That I want her to give me a chance to make up for all the shitty things I’ve done. I want a chance to make her as happy as she makes me. 

The kitchen isn’t the most romantic of locations, although this is where she told me she loved me for the first time. I can’t put off telling her any longer. I need to tell her. After her teasing this morning, my resolve is failing I know I won’t be able to keep my hands off her if she touches me like that again. I need to tell her I love her, so she doesn’t think I just want to screw her again. 

Pancake batter swirls around the large mixing bowl, as I whisk the mixture to the correct consistency. Sam’s greeting bellows through the halls, and I call out to tell him where I am. 

“Oh crap you’re making pancakes,” Sam acknowledges, “what did you do to her?” 

Sam clearly thinks he’s a comedian. I turn to face him, whipping the batter into shape, “I didn’t do anything.” 

His eyebrows practically reach his hairline, “you're making Lexie’s favourite breakfast, and it’s not an apology?” 

“No, it’s not an apology. We’re good, more than good actually.” 

“You finally tell her?”

“No, but I’m going to.” 

“It’s about damn time,” Sam quipps happily. “I’ll give you some space. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

I give him a thankful smile before he turns to leaves me to continue my breakfast preparation. He stops in the doorway, “just remember the kitchen is a communal area. I have to eat here too” he jokes smirking, before ambling off. 

The semi-serious joke makes me somewhat hopeful. Sam’s confident me telling Lexie will result in us ending up naked. I’m not so sure, I don’t know if she can forgive me for everything that’s happened, some of the bad shit I’ve said to her. Will I be able to explain everything in a way to make her believe I really did push her away because I thought it was what was best for her? 

I have no idea what I’m going to say, how to even bring up the subject, but I have to find a way. I want a happily ever after with her, or as much as a hunter ever gets. I guess any time I get to spend with her, that’s a happy ending. 

Lexie POV 

The aroma of pancakes and bacon assaults my nose as I get closer to the kitchen. I slow my pace, I can’t lead the bitch behind me directly to Dean. But what choice do I have? 

“Move!” she prods the gun in between my shoulder blades. 

“Alright!” I growl, continuing to walk.

Dean is pouring pancake batter into the pan, when I take two steps in to the kitchen, and say his name. He lifts his head and his body goes rigid. He knows from my tone something is wrong. He turns none threateningly slow, spatula in hand. His jaw goes taut, the muscles rippling across his aggravated face, as his eyes take in the scene. The gun pointed at my head, my arms held high, the steady flow of blood from the cut above my eye, that is now dripping off my jaw. 

“Dean let me introduce you to Kim. Tyler’s girlfriend.” 

Understanding and fear register in the set of his angry eyes. This is going to end bloody, he knows it as well as I do. There’s no other way for it to go. I just hope it’s Kim’s blood that ends it. 

“Wife!” Kim corrects me, shoving the gun into the base of my skull. 

Dean takes a step toward us, but Kim barks at him to stop. She motions for Dean to come with us, and we lead the way to the dungeon with Kim at our backs.

“Dean I’m sorry,” I tell him as we walk. I’ve bought this on us, this is my fault. If something happens to him, that’s on me. I can take some solace that Sam isn’t here, he isn’t in the line of fire I’ve created. 

Dean sounds confident when he tells me, “It’s fine. We’re going to be fine.” 

“Don’t be so sure pretty.” Kim goads shoving him toward the door. 

Tyler is calling Kim’s name as we open the door, he must be able to smell her. She stays behind us, gun held up and greets my brother with an adoring sigh of his name. She’s smart enough to control her emotions, not rush toward him, because that would give the hunters she’s holding hostage an opportunity to attack her.

“Don’t come too close,” Tyler warns her, “there’s some kind of invisible fire wall keeping me in.” 

Kim doesn’t hesitate, she kicks the back of my legs, making me drop to my knees and simultaneously grabs the back of Dean’s neck. She twists, putting her back to Tyler, kicks Dean to his knees and presses the gun under his chin. 

“Let him out,” she demands of me. 

“Your wasting your time,” Dean explains eyeing her over his shoulder, “he’s locked in with a spell, we don’t know how to break it.” 

It’s the truth. Sam warned me I shouldn’t cast the spell without knowing how to reverse it, but I ignored him. The only way Tyler is walking out of that dungeon is as a human. I’ve completely fucked us over, Kim can’t go to him and Tyler can’t come out to her. If either of them try they will be ignited with a white hot flame. Only humans can pass through the invisible barrier. 

“Then you’re no good to me as leverage, are you?” Kim realises, yanking Dean’s head back with a tug of his hair. She grinds the gun in harder and chambers a round.  

“NO! NO! WAIT.” I plead, rising to my feet, “let me make a call.” Her blood thirsty eyes flick to me, “let me call Sam, he will know what to do. We can figure it out.”

Kim eyes me suspiciously for a second, “make it fast.” 

Kim’s eyes follow my every movement as I slowly reach over and take my phone from the armband wrapped around my left bicep. Sam may know the answer, but I’m not calling him. I drop my gaze to Dean, he dips his head acknowledging our unspoken plan. We’ve been in a similar situation with a shifter. I focus on my phone screen, enter my pass-code, open the recent call list. “Catch!” I yell throwing the phone under arm toward Kim’s face.  

It’s enough to distract her, for Dean to grab her hand. He doesn’t have time to aim, he twists her hand that holds the weapon into her abdomen, and pulls the trigger. The point-blank shot knocks her off balance, and she falls backward into the barrier. The blue flame ignites her body and she’s reduced to ash in a white, hot flash in seconds. 

Tyler’s anguished roar replaces the echo of the gunshot. He grabs Dean dragging him over the barrier, ignoring the sizzle of his own arms, as the spell begins to work its magic. Tyler throws Dean into the brick wall, then stands panting, surveying his charred arm. 

The gun lies at Tyler’s foot and he bends to pick it up, watching Dean climb to his feet quickly. Dean is winded from the blow, and I can tell his right shoulder is dislocated, the way it hangs. 

My brother raises the gun to Dean’s chest, and I yell for Tyler to stop. He keeps his eyes on Dean, turns the gun in my direction and lets off an aimless shot, in the same instant Dean rushes forward knocking the weapon from his hand. The gun falls to the floor sliding out of reach of both men. 

“I don’t need it,” Tyler snarls, “I’d rather kill you with my bare hands.” 

Time freezes. I watch in slow motion, as the man I love and my brother square off ready to fight. A battle that can end only one way, one of them ceasing to exist. 

I have to choose. 

I’m no longer in my body. I’m watching it all unfold like I’m some poor bystander who will forever be traumatized by the horror she is about to witness. 

Sam slides to a halt beside me, I didn’t know he was back. He holds the handle of a long, sharp, silver machete in his hand. 

Tyler’s fist connects with Dean’s mouth and forces him back into the wall. Dean will be no match for the heart broken, grieving vampire that is my brother. Tyler holds Dean against the wall, a vice-like grip on his throat. I’m floating across the floor, and swinging the blade I didn’t even register I had taken from Sam, before Dean can struggle for one breath.

Dean POV. 

The force of Tyler’s right hook knocks me back into the wall, and opens a cut on my cheek. My dislocated shoulder causes a protesting yelp, that’s stolen by Tyler’s hand around my throat, shoving me back into the brick.

My air is cut off, as the red line rings around his neck. His head falls a split second before his body drops. Lexie is stood in her brother’s place. 

She is a picture of glorious beauty, heartbreaking devastation and enraged fierceness holding a fighters stance. Feet shoulder width apart, arms locked in a tight square, blade held ready to continue a fight her brain hasn’t registered is over. 

Her tear swimming eyes cling to mine, as she heaves heavy breaths in and out. Her eyes demand mine, because she’s using all her strength to not look down at the wreckage she has caused.

Sam moves toward her, one long arm outstretched to touch her, and I warn him off shaking my head. I know the frightening, feral look in her ocean blue eyes. Sam’s meant to be comforting hand will startle her, and she will swing the weapon without hesitation. 

I talk slowly, pronouncing every word carefully, “It’s over Lex, it’s done. It’s done.” I step over Tyler’s limp body, and my movement breaks her denial. Her arms go slack, the blade clangs to the concrete floor. I throw myself at her, burying her head into my bad shoulder, to stop her from seeing the damage around us. She crumbles against me crying into my neck. 

I hold her tightly with my good arm, I’m the only thing holding her together. Ignoring the pulsing pain in my shoulder. My bloody nose is dripping down her back, and I can feel the sticky blood of her cut eye against my neck. Neither of us care. I can feel the strength draining from her, she’s going to collapse, and I won’t be able to catch her. “Sam, get her out of here,” I command.

Sam scoops her up in his arms, encloses her head with a large hand against his shoulder, and is out of the room with three long strides. 

I take a minute to get my brain in gear. Lexie really just did that. She really just sliced her brother’s head off, without a second of hesitation for me. To save me. The brother she has spent almost five years grieving for, the brother she thought she could get back by curing him, she just ended him to save my life.

The asshole who can’t admit he loves her. The dickwad who screws with her head. The prick who made her leave her home. If she didn’t before, she’s going to hate me now. 

I make my way slowly to the infirmary. I need Sam and his gigantic hands to force my shoulder back into place, and I know that’s where he will have taken Lexie. Her eye needs stitching.

I enter to see a bitch-faced Sam stood looming over Lexie. She has her left leg stretched out on the metal framed bed, jeans pulled down to her knees, using a pair of tweezers to fish the bullet out of her upper left thigh. Tyler’s aimless shot hit her. 

“Would you let me do it?” Sam demands, making a move to grab the tweezers from Lexie. 

The evil glares she gives him is enough to stop him dead in his tracks. She sees me over his shoulder and offers a tight-lipped, sad smile then goes back to her bullet finding.

Sam understands he’s fighting a losing battle with her, so he positions himself to fix my shoulder. I keep my eyes on Lexie, nothing can hurt me as much as she must be hurting right now. “Ready?” Sam asks.

“Just do it.” 

He unnecessarily starts counting, I know he’s going on two. “One, two-” 

The crunch of my shoulder going back to its rightful location, and my yelp of “son of a bitch” makes Lexie flinch. She freezes, closing her eyes whilst my voice echoes around the tiled room.

I catch my breath, observing her. She composes herself, opening her eyes to continue her work, but her hand is shaking. She spies me watching her, and quickly averts her eyes, forcing her shaking hand to plunge back in to the rounded hole. 

Lexie POV

Sam sets about threading a needle for me, whilst Dean washes the blood from his face. Sam’s phone rings. “Hey Chris,” he answers the hunters call in a tone ready to tell him now really isn’t a good time. “Yeah, okay. I’ll pass it on. Thanks for the call buddy.”

Sam ends the call, awkwardness and unease coat his features as he talks to me. “Um, Tracy is in the hospital. Chris said it was vamps, said she looks like she was tortured. She’s in a bad way, docs aren’t sure if she’ll make it.” 

I concentrate on finding the bullet unable to look Sam in the eye. To see the pity and understanding I don’t deserve. 

I found Tyler in a bar, kidnapped him, without a second thought about his nest missing him, or being able to track him down. I’ve caused all of this. Kim must have tracked his scent as far as she could, then found Tracy and tortured her for information. The hunting community is small, all the monsters know we know each other. So this is on me. Tracy fighting for her life, Dean being hurt, the bullet in my leg. All of this is on me, it’s all my fault. 

Dean tells Sam to call Cas, to ask him to heal Tracy. But what does it matter, she’s already suffered because of my stupidity, and misguided hope of a cure.

“I’ll ask Cas to come heal you after-” Sam suggests, using his phone to call Cas. 

“No!” I tell him sharply. I scrape metal, plunge deeper, and pull the foreign body from my flesh. “I don’t want him to. I was the one being reckless, I deserve to-” 

“Lex, this isn’t-” Sam’s reassuring tone pisses me off. 

I take hold of the needle, and pierce my skin to sew the hole, “Sam I swear if you tell me this isn’t my fault, I’ll stab you in the eye with this needle.” 

Sam makes the smart decision, and doesn’t push the issue of whose fault this whole mess is. 

Dean POV

Cas went to cure Tracy, then came and patched me up. He offered his services to Lexie, and she threatened to kill him if he laid a finger on her. He ignored her threat, tried to persuade her. She paused from stitching the gash above her left brow long enough to throw a glass at him. Cas deflected it at the last second, but he took the hint and left.  

Lexie casually cleared the research materials, whilst Sam and I built a pyre outside, in the woods. I watched her for a minute from the stairs, as she limped around the room, closing the books, putting files back into their rightful boxes, ripping pages of notes she had made from pads. She was so calm and methodical, it was unnerving. 

Sam and I stand a few feet behind Lexie, as she watches Tyler’s body burn. When Tyler’s body is charred and unrecognisable, no longer resembling a person, Sam flashes me a quick, sorrowful smile, and heads back inside. 

I stand beside Lexie and reach to take her hand. She dances her fingers around mine, before pulling away, folding her arms over her chest. “I want to - I’d rather be alone right now,” she tells me firmly. 

She’s shutting me out. Regret for saving me maybe, guilt for killing her brother. Whatever it is, I know I won’t get her to open up to me by force. She will push back, put more stubborn walls up, she needs time to process. So I leave her alone.

Dean POV

It’s been three days since we burnt Tyler’s body. Lexie hasn’t spoken a word to either of us since she threatened to stab Sam in the eye with her needle and asked me to leave her alone. Sam tried speaking to her about everything that went down, and she threw a large, hardback book at him that narrowly missed his head. Since then we’ve decided to give her time, let her come to terms with it all. 

Sam and I have taken turns to take coffee, food, and water to her room where she’s holed up. She never answers to our knocks, so we let ourselves in to give her fresh food and take away the half-eaten stuff. 

I was scared she was going to bail, run off in the middle of the night, so I removed the spark plugs from her car. I’ve hidden them in my sock drawer. She won’t know what’s wrong when it won’t start. She can change a flat tire but that’s as far as her mechanical knowledge goes. If she wants to leave, she will have to ask me or Sam for help.

I’m flat on my stomach on my bed, my arm stretched out on Lexie’s side, when the squeak of my door handle wakes me. I should be reaching for the gun in my nightstand. However, if it were someone coming to kill me, I doubt they would be moving so slowly, as it means they have lost the element of surprise. 

The light from the hallway penetrates my closed eyes, then is blocked when the intruder steps into the room. I open my sleepy eyes to discover Lexie half in the room, her forehead resting on the hand holding the door. She lets out a long-relieved breath and my voice makes her jump, “Lex?” 

“Sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” 

I know it’s not nothing, she wouldn’t be sneaking in to check on me if it were nothing. I prop myself up, switching on the lamp as she turns to leave, “come to bed, please.” 

She debates it for a second, then steps completely into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She climbs under the sheets, gazing up at me. I’m way too familiar with the despairing set of eyes, the worry lines creasing her brow. She’s had a nightmare. I assume it was a nightmare that starred yours truly, that was vivid enough for her to come to my room to make sure I'm okay. 

I switch off the lamp then slide my arm under her neck. She shuffles over, so she’s pressed against me, burying her head in the crook of my neck, her palm flat against my heart. She’s trembling. I would give my soul to take the pain and fear away from her right now. I put my hand over hers, push it deeper into my skin to ensure she can feel the steady beat of my lifeline. “It’s still beating, thanks to you.” 

Thanking her for killing her brother to save me isn’t the best choice of words, but how else do I say it?  

She laughs without humour, her voice muffled against my neck. I inhale deeply, ready to ask her to talk to me. Before I exhale she speaks softly, suppressing tears. “Can I just lie here, pretend everything is how it used to be? Before Tyler, before Sam came home, just for tonight, please?” 

I’ll pretend forever if that’s what she wants. I want it to be like this forever, wrapped up together in our bed, her seeking comfort from me. But now isn’t the right time to tell her. I’m starting to think there won’t ever be a right time. 

I kiss her cheek and she sinks further into me, throwing her leg over my hip to get as close to me as possible. This is enough, for now.

Chapter 11

Tags: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​ @evansrogerskitten​ @the-dead-skwad​ @crashdevlin​ @aingealcethlenn​ @deans-baby-momma​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​ 

[writingfromkitchenator]

The Omega Curse

SPN Kink Bingo fic for @spnkinkbingo

Square filled: ABO Dynamics

Characters: Dean, Sam, brief Castiel x Winchester!OFC, Crowley x Winchester!OFC

Warnings: ABO dynamics, implied smut, swearing, blood, the usual

Words: 5,904 (oops)

Crowley had always thought that dealing with two Winchesters was enough, that they were both a thorn enough in his side that surely there couldn't be anything else out there that was worse.

He hated it when he got proved wrong.

Caroline Winchester had rocked up on the scene, equal in skill and personality to her brothers and just as weary around any sort of supernatural. Crowley couldn't believe his luck and, at first, didn't really know what to do about it, until he saw exactly how protective Sam and Dean were of her.

And he caught the scent of an Omega.

He'd once heard that Sam and Dean had been from two Alpha parents, which, if true, an Omega child was rare.  It was true, she was heavily sedated so it was kept well under control, but it wasn't enough to stop him noticing.

And to stop him thinking.

Caroline distaste was instantly clear of their protectiveness and she soon told them that she was having nothing of it, something Crowley had found most amusing.

That was where he learned her tongue was a lot sharper than her brothers.

He took it all in his stride as he usually did, but something happened in that moment that he had thought impossible.

His Alpha side stirred.

It had taken him back, more than he would have liked, demons, and angels, weren't meant to have those capabilities, and anything they picked up from their vessels, were meant to get instantly pushed down, usually with a bit of training.

Crowley hadn't felt anything in years and, in truth, he couldn't even remember what his vessel had been, it was inconsequential at the time.

No, the stirring had been his own side, which only peaked his interest more for Caroline Winchester.

For Caroline's part, she refused to tell Sam and Dean why she'd tracked them down and asked to stay with them.  They hadn't parted on the best of terms years earlier after a particularly bad incident with an Alpha that had been interested in her.

Sam and Dean had tried to intervene, but there was no stopping Caroline as she put a bullet through his knee cap.

She kept to herself except for when it came to hunting, in fact, the only person she talked to was Castiel, who didn't treat her as just another Omega.

“I don't get it and I don't like it,” Dean grumbled one day. “She just rocks up out of the blue, only joins us for hunts, and hardly says shit otherwise.  We're her brothers dammit.”

Sam gives him a small smile.  “Yeah, but we do get a bit protective on her, not to mention several words said the last time we saw her.”

“She shot a guy!  A human! What did she expect us to say?”

“You could have beat his arse senseless before I got the chance.” She said, walking into the kitchen. “I thought Dad had ingrained that in you enough.”

“He did,” Dean said hotly.  “But then he also taught us to grow up, to deal with situations calmly.”

Caroline snorts as she takes a sip of coffee, raising an eyebrow at Dean.  “Calmly. Sure.”

She gives a short laugh and leaves, Sam and Dean staring after her.

“You know, I really do wonder how she didn't present as Alpha.” Sam said, shaking his head so Dean didn't see his smile.  “She certainly never acts like an Omega.”

“That's an understatement.” Dean growls.  “I'd like to see an Alpha tame her pain in the arse.”

Sam grimaces and after a moment, so does Dean, the two sitting in silence for a moment.

“You know,” Sam said.  “We could always just try and treat her as an Alpha.”

Dean gives him an odd look.

“Come on Dean, we get protective still, around any guy, let alone other Alpha’s.  If we just, let her take of herself, maybe she'll open up enough to let us know what is going on?”

Dean thinks and slowly nods.  “Sure, I can't think of anything else besides torture.”

“Dean.”

“I’m joking.” Then he muttered under his breath.  “Although I can’t say she wouldn’t deserve it.”

Much to both Sam and Dean’s surprise, it worked and Caroline started to open up to them a bit more, eventually relaxing into a flow that the three of them hadn’t had since she presented.

Which was when they found out what was wrong.

The door to the bunker slammed hard, making both boys look up as Caroline marched furiously down the stairs, her skin clammy and eyes furious.

“Caroline?”  Sam was on his feet first, but she continued past.

“Drop it.”  She snapped, heading for the door.  “I don’t want to answer.”

“Are you still in heat?”  Dean asked, not listening.

She blanched, her step faltering.  “On the downward, nothing an ice cold shower won’t fix.”

The boys stare after her as she disappears through the door and they hear another door slam.

“That’s not good,” Dean said, frowning.  “Something bad must have happened to whoever she picked up.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Sam sat back down. “Caroline’s does generally have better control than that.”

Castiel entered from the hallway, his nose screwed up.  “Is there a reason she’s come home still in heat?”

Both of them shrugged.

“There could be a lot of reasons, but we’ll have to ask her to find out the truth.”

It took a little while, but eventually Caroline reappeared, looking better, although no less furious.

Sam was first to clear his throat after a nudge from Dean.  “Is everything alright?”

Her expression remained stoic for a single moment before it crumbled and she sighed heavily, her head resting in her hands.  “No Sam, it’s not.”

The brothers shared a look but then waited for her to answer.

Caroline looks up.  “Where’s Cas?”

“He had to go,” Sam said.  “What was left of your heat was getting to him.”

She swallows.  “Oh…I thought angels didn’t feel that?”

“Not normally, but Cas has been through some things that’s made it a little harder to control.”  Dean said. “He’s fine though, he still keeps it well under wraps, but he prefers not to push it.”  He shakes his head.  “But he’s not the problem here, what’s going on.”

Caroline sighs, carding her fingers through her hair.  “I…I…look, things have been hard lately, my heats have been getting worse.  Normally…the Betas I’m with are enough, they can take care of it, but it’s been getting worse and worse, my control during heats is slipping and I’m…well, craving more.”

Both of them blanch but look at her concerned.

“I…you both know how I feel about Alpha’s, at least when it comes to this side of things, but I have the feeling that I’m quickly running out of options.  Not even toys are doing the trick.”  She winces and holds her stomach, letting out a slow breath.  “And the pain is starting to last longer.”

“When did you first notice this?”  Sam asked.

Caroline sighs.  “A while. I didn’t know how to approach you guys about this, so I just hoped it went away.”

Sam and Dean weren’t happy, but they made their concern clear to her and the promise that they were going to help her sought this out, not wanting her to deal with this on her own.

After a few hours of research, Dean closed his laptop with a frustrated sigh.  “I’m learning stuff that I really didn’t want to know.”  He thinks for a moment, even as Caroline gives a small smile.  “You know…I hate to say this Carol, but…you could just ask an Alpha to help you through it, one you trust I mean, not just some stranger.”

Sam shoots a glare at Dean.  “Dude.”

“What?”  Dean asked. “She gets along well enough with Cas, and it might help him work through some of his stuff too, it could be a win win.”

“You can’t just option Cas out for sex Dean,” Sam said, although he was fighting off a grin.  “And I’m a little stunned your just thinking of letting our sister do that.”

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve heard Sam,” Caroline said with a dry, tired chuckle.  “Certainly a lot better than what some of these books have been saying.”

Sam looks surprised.  “You’re willing to ask him?”

Her gaze is reaching on desperate as she looks at him.  “You guys have no idea what I’ve been through and sex with strangers gets real tiring after a while, heat or no.”

It was a few days before they raised the idea with Castiel, who very quickly raised his reservations about such a thing, knowing that it wasn’t as small a deal as what they were trying to say.

“I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with Cas,” She said.  “And trust me, I grew up with three Alpha’s, I know full well what could be the consequences with what I’m asking.”

“You’re asking it of an angel Caroline.”  Castiel said.  “I can assure the consequences would be much worse, should they happen.”

She shrugs.  “The way I see it, things can’t be much more messed up.  But as I said, at the moment, this is all just a suggestion.”

“We wouldn’t ask if we didn’t think it was serious Cas,” Dean said. “And the way that Carol’s described it, it’s getting very serious.”

It was clear that Castiel wasn’t overly happy about it, but he eventually agreed, as long they took every precaution possible during her next heat.

Her heat hit much too quickly for either of their liking, Sam and Dean quickly heading out of the bunker, not having time to do much else.

It was awkward at first, Castiel unsure, but as her heat got worse and worse, and she started to plead with him, they eventually worked it out.

It was a few days before Sam and Dean got the all clear to come back and they were happy to see that Caroline was in a much happier mood, as was Castiel, but he was doing everything possible to hide it.

“I’m still not sure about this,” Castiel eventually said.  “I know it’s worked this time, but there’s no guarantee that it’ll keep it in control.”

Caroline shrugs.  “More time is all I need to come up with something else Cas, so thank you, again, for helping with this.”

Crowley had been doing his best to avoid the Winchester’s, no matter his curiosity, he couldn’t have himself getting distracted at the moment by Caroline, although in quieter times, his mind wondered back to that moment.

However, he had little choice when a situation called for it and the he hated that the first thing he noticed was the angels scent on her.

Crowley screwed up his nose, an unfamiliar feeling curling in his stomach.  “You know, I always expected it from a particular Winchester, but definitely not the newest one.”

Dean rolled his eyes, even as she flushed slightly.  “Cute Crowley, don’t you have somewhere else to stick your business?”

He raised an eyebrow.  “It’s a bit hard when she reeks of angel.”

“Dude, seriously, don’t you have something better to do than annoy us?” Dean asked, cutting Caroline off. “You’re lucky we don’t just shoot you on sight.”

Crowley went to argue, went to make a snarky comment, but it was then that he caught Castiel’s eye, Castiel, who was looking at him suspiciously and Crowley knew he quickly had to change the subject.

He wasn’t going to lie, it bothered him, and he hated it.

After that day was over, Crowley had never been more relieved to be away, finding himself more and more agitated the longer that he’d spent around Caroline, his Alpha side being drawn out more and more, to the point that he’d growled at Castiel.

Castiel had stared at him.  “There’s something else at work here.”

It was all that he’d said on the matter, but it was enough for Crowley.

He had to avoid her no matter what.

Several months later, Crowley stared at his drink, trying to ignore wanting to think about it, trying to drown it from his mind, it seeming to linger more and more these days.  He had no idea what was going on, didn’t want to know, at least, that was what he told himself.

His head snapped up as he felt himself being summoned, frowning, knowing that only three people knew how to do so.  With a huff, he snapped himself there, a gripe ready on his tongue, only to have himself falter as his gaze lands on a very weary looking Caroline.

“Remind me to find a way of changing how I’m summoned,” Crowley bit. “I can’t keep having everyone knowing.”

Caroline snorts.  “Please, if I thought it was safer to text, I would’ve done so.”

Crowley frowns at her, she was armed, but at that moment, it wasn’t directed at him.  “And how am I supposed to react to that darling?”

She lets out a slow breath and Crowley can practically smell the desperation coming off her.  “I want to make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yes,” She snapped.  “Or is that something you no longer handle as the king?”

He chuckles.  “Oh no, I handle them, but I’m a little surprised that a Winchester is trying to make one, especially when your brothers, from what I last heard, are alive and well.”

Caroline tuts.  “This doesn’t have anything to do with them and as far as they know, this conversation isn’t happening, but I’m desperate, I know you can see that.”

Crowley watches her, her agitation, and without meaning to scents the air slightly, causing him to frown.

“Is Feather’s no longer sating those urges?”

She blanches and he can’t help but notice the curl of her arm around her stomach, as if a cramp was rushing through her.  “Cas…Cas is no longer compatible it seems, hence why I’m here.”

He raises an eyebrow.  “What could you possibly-”

“Change what I am,” She pleaded.  “I don’t care to what, but I need these urges gone, I can’t take it anymore Crowley, I don’t want this to be the way that I die.”

Crowley blinks.  “That’s a lot to give up Caroline, are you-”

“I will gladly take ten years over this.”  She hissed.  “If I don’t have to go another day without another cramp or pain or heat of some sort, I’ll take it.  Damn consequence.”

He was taken back by this.  “So…why come to me with this?”

She gives a bitter laugh.  “Because I know you’ll at least play somewhat fair, trust me, it’s not my most ideal situation either.”

He looks at her thoughtfully.  “You know no demon in their right mind would accept ten years for a Winchester, that’s much too valuable.”

Caroline rolls her eyes and huffs, her arms wrapping around herself. “Then what would you accept?  I’m not playing around with this.  I’m tired Crowley and, whatever is going on with my body right now, I can’t deal with it anymore.  You’re my last change to be able to fix it.”

Of that, Crowley had little doubt, but his mind was currently working fast on what to do about it.

He could take the deal and walk away, leave her to her fate, be the talk of Hell for being able to get a Winchester’s soul.  It would have its draw backs of course, especially if the brothers found out.

But then, so would the second option.

Yet again, he found himself questioning his instincts, wondering what it was that was drawing her to him, awakening the long forgotten part of himself.  He knew that if gave in and both the demons and the brothers found out, there’d be no where he could hide.

So maybe it was best to walk away.

“Sorry darling,” He said as lightly as he could.  “There’s too much at stake for my liking.  You’ll have to find someone else to-”

Crowley had turned to walk away, but as he did, she rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Please don’t make me beg Crowley,” She said quietly.  “Don’t make me degrade myself more than what I already am every day.”

A tenseness filled the air between the two of them and although her gaze was scared, Caroline found herself reluctant to let go of his arm.

“You can’t be,” She said quietly.  “It’s not possible.”

“Hence my reluctance,” Crowley said slowly, turning to face her, keeping his expression blank.  “I’m sure you can imagine how this looks.”

Caroline’s eyes are wide as she looks at him.  “That’s why you were always quiet around me, why you had an issue with Cas.”

Crowley screws his nose up briefly.  “Yes, well, let’s not mention that, shall we?”

“Why would you never say anything?”  She asked softly, blinking furiously as her eyes welled up, causing her to shake her head to try and hide it.  “Why…why would you just-”

“Because you know as well as I do that this would never work.” Crowley said sadly.  “You know as well as I do the dangers that would be involved.  Not to mention, if it had been brought up straight away, what would have been your likely reaction?”

Caroline remains silent.

Crowley sighs, fighting against the guilt at the defeated and exhausted set in her shoulders, he wanted to help, he did, but-

“I know how this all looks Crowley,” Caroline’s voice was quite, her arms wrapped around herself.  “I know that you are worried about-about Sam and Dean, about running Hell, about the consequences of it all but…”  She falls silent and after a moment, shakes her head, turning away. “You know what, don’t worry about it. You’re right, it’s never going to work.”

She started walking away before he could say anything and fear unlike anything he’d felt before gripped him.

“Caroline-”

Crowley stepped forward, to follow her, to stop her, to do something, he wasn’t sure himself, but he just knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Caroline rounded on him, gun drawn, fury and pain burning away in her eyes.  “Don’t. Don’t do this to me Crowley.”

He gives a small smile.  “Darling, we both know that that little gun won’t do anything to me.”

She draws in a shuddering breath.  “I know it’ll still hurt.”

“A slight sting, but not much else.”  Crowley takes a step closer.  “I’m sure we can still talk about this reasonably.”

“There’s no point.”  She said angrily.  “We can’t do this!  I can’t do this!  I won’t…I won’t…”

Slowly, Crowley reached for the gun, moving it away from him. “There’s no point in ruining a good suit Caroline, now, let’s just talk about this.”

Caroline’s face crumbled then, a whimper leaving her as she buckles over, her hand wrapping around her stomach, Crowley quickly grabbing her before she hits the ground, keeping her up.

Her scent overwhelmed him them, causing Crowley to groan as his Alpha side almost overrode his senses, his grip tightening on her for a moment before he gets control of himself and manages to focus.

“Crowley…”  Caroline’s gaze is tired and he realizes for the first time just how dire her situation is, making him frown.

“Why have you put this off for so long darling?”  He asked quietly, brushing tears from her cheeks. “Why would you not seek help earlier?”

“Because it feels wrong,” She said earnestly, leaning into his hand, her eyes closing.  “And no one…no one I talked to could ever understand, or explain it…you…this…was all I had left.”

His chest ached as he looked at her and he knew that this decision was quickly becoming out of his hand, he knew that there was no way that he could just let her walk away.

Crowley sighed heavily, resting his head against hers, making her shiver slightly.  “Darling…we have two options here.  I go ahead with this deal, which I will admit, I do not like the idea of doing…” He was losing against himself the longer he was standing there with her, trying to ignore the fact that she was pressing herself closer.  “Or…we…go somewhere quiet…”

Caroline’s hands curled tightly in the front of his jacket.  “I don’t care.  Just make it stop.”

Crowley grits his teeth, letting out a short breath. “We’ll have to do this right later.”

His hand buries in her hair and without a second thought, he presses his lips to hers.

 Sam, Dean and Castiel were worried, no one having heard from Caroline in almost a week and she wasn’t answering any calls or messages.

“Dammit Cas, run through it again.”  Dean asked.

“There’s no point Dean,” Castiel said, frowning at him. “The story hasn’t changed from the last twelve time that I’ve told you.”

“He’s right Dean,” Sam said as Dean went to argue.  “We’re just going to have to wait until she makes contact.”

“For all we know, she’s dead in a ditch somewhere Sam,” Dean said hotly.  “Considering it was a lot worse than what she let on-”

“That seems to be a trait all of you share.”  They all turned to look at Crowley who looked…rather a mess, his hair ruffled, suit and tie askew and, if they weren’t mistaken, there were a mix of fading bruises and bites marks in varying places they could see.

Dean looks him up and down.  “What the hell happened to you?”

Crowley lets out an impatient sigh and attempts to straighten himself out.  “Well,” He flinches a little.  “Look, I need you to do something for me and I need you to-”

“You’ve been with Caroline.”  Castiel said, frowning at him.  “Why would she go to you?”

Crowley gives an unimpressed look as Sam and Dean take a moment to have that sink in.  “Not ask questions; honestly Castiel, have you no respect for a man’s dignity?”

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean growled, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Crowley, who rolls his eyes. “What the hell have you done with her?”

“Saved her life, actually.”  Crowley clipped, noting Sam raising his gun too.  “At least for the moment.”

“What’s that-”

“If you actually let me finish, I’d be able to tell you.”  He looked between all three of them seriously. “Believe it or not I’m actually trying to look out for her wellbeing.”

“You’re her Alpha.”  Castiel said simply, earning a stunned look from Sam and Dean.

Crowley finishes straightening his suit.  “Yes, however, she is not my Omega, in fact, she’s not even an Omega at all.”

Sam and Dean’s guns lower slightly.  “What?  We were both there when she presented Crowley, I think we know what our sister is.”

He shakes his head though.  “And I’m telling you she’s not.  My guess is, is that your father, or even one of you, pissed off a very powerful witch before she presented.  The witch obviously saw the best way of taking out their revenge on you was to affect her with a curse, one that has been slowly getting worse the older she’s got.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Dean sighed, putting his gun away.  “But how do you know this?”

Crowley smirks.  “Because I know magic Squirrel, and I’ve been closer to her in the last week than I’m sure anyone ever has been before.”

“Son of a-” Sam grips Dean’s hand before he can pull out his gun again, frowning at Crowley.

“How come Cas didn’t pick this up?”

“Because Castiel isn’t her Alpha.”  Crowley said with a shrug.

“But you said-”

“That she isn’t my Omega, yes, but that doesn’t mean she’s not my Alpha too.”

There is a moment of silence.

“I had questioned why my own side had reacted in such a way,” Crowley continued, not hiding his amusement at their reactions.  “And while I was sure that an Omega could indeed draw something like that out, what I wasn’t sure of was why I could hold it off, for the most part, so well.  The last week has given me the insight to that, mostly because I tried to change what she was, but the magic at play is…stronger than what I’ve encountered before. Which is why I was here to ask for your help.”

“You…tried to change her?”  Sam asked, confused.

Crowley nods.  “It wasn’t my finest moment, but when it seemed that nothing else was helping…” He leave it open with a shrug. “Look, Caroline has been suffering for a long time, and the only way out of it, besides finding the witch that did it, is finding one as equally as powerful.”

Sam and Dean groan.  “Please don’t say it.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do.”  Crowley said bluntly, rolling his eyes.  “But I can’t leave Carol alone for too long-”

Dean holds up his hand.  “Don’t-don’t say anymore.  We’ll find your stupid mother, you just keep Caroline from doing-from getting-” He waves his hands.  “Whatever man, you know what I’m trying to say!”

Crowley smirks and turns away, but Castiel cut him off.

“Have you claimed her yet?”

Dean groans even as Crowley raises an eyebrow back at him. “Why?  Are you getting jealous now Castiel?”

Castiel frowns.  “No, we did not have that sort of connection.  I’m merely wondering if you have and whether it would affect the reversal of such a spell.”

Crowley shakes his head.  “No, I tried, but it’s not her body’s natural state.”

Dean didn’t even curse this time, pulling his gun free and firing, but Crowley was already gone.  “Bastard.”

Castiel was already walking away.

“Cas, what are you doing?”  Dean called after him.

“You two might have missed it, but Crowley was worried,” Castiel said, not looking back.  “Meaning that Carol is in real danger if we don’t do something quickly.”

 Rowena was surprisingly easy to find, but convincing her to help was another task entirely.  It was only after they mentioned that there was a powerful spell that they were sure that she couldn’t break, did she roll her eyes and agree.

When Crowley arrived with Caroline in tow, a lot of silent worry went around the room.

Caroline was a mess, her eyes gaunt and her body slumped in exhaustion, Crowley the only thing keeping her up as he looked at her worriedly, a thick sheen of sweat covering her forehead.

She was struggling to breathe too, her voice hoarse.  “I hope you guys have a plan because I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.”

“Don’t speak like that darling,” Crowley said softly.  “We’re going to get you fixed up.”

Her smile is strained.  “Heh, I thought we tried that already.”

He gives a chuckle, even as the brother blanch, getting her seated in a chair.

“You guys always were too easy,” Caroline said with a small huff of a laugh.  “But let’s just get this show on the road, my life’s not worth a cheap laughs.”

“And yet you are still talking,” Rowena said boredly.  “Is that a Winchester trait or just something that you’ve picked up from my son?”

“Don’t get me started,” Caroline growled.  “I might be almost down and out but it doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to take you down with me.”

“I’d like to see you try dear.”  Rowena said sweetly.  “So aggressive for an Omega, I’m surprised that you’re handling her at all dear.”

“Mother,” Crowley growled.  “I suggest holding your tongue and helping, least I make you can never use it again.”

“Yes, yes, more veiled threats.”  She throws a handful of ingredients into a bowl, a thick blue smoke rising that trails towards Caroline, who tenses in her chair as it circles her head.  “Hold still dear, this won’t take a moment.”

Caroline’s eyes droop and her head falls to her chest.

“What are you doing to her?”  Sam asked nervously, watching her breathing deepen.

Rowena’s eyes shift purple and the smoke changes to a steadily lighter blue.  “Finding out the roots of the spell and what exact spell was used.  Now be quiet.”

The spell shifted red and then vanished, Rowena letting out a slow breath.  “Well, I’ve been after that hag for a long time.”  She looks happily at the four of them, Caroline remaining slumped in the chair. “Give me a few hours and I’ll be back.”

“A few hours?”  Castiel asked.  “Caroline could-”

“She’ll be unconscious dear.”  Rowena said, waving her hands.  “And considering allowing me to hunt this one down as payment for helping.”

“Leave it Castiel,” Crowley said rather calmly.  “She knows what she is doing.”

Rowena passes a smug smile to them before leaving.

They waited nervously for Rowena to get back, hardly saying much to each other, but checking on Caroline in turns, making sure that her state hadn’t changed.

“This is ridiculous,” Dean said finally.  “We’re seriously relying on a witch, who hates us all by the way, to cure Caroline of this-this-Omega curse thing?  Why can’t we just go and hunt this one down ourselves? I’m sure there’s ways that we can track them down?”

“No need dear.”  Rowena walked back in, a cage in her hands.  “I have her right here.”

They all stared at her.

“That’s a hamster.”  Sam said a little incredulously.

“Yes, well, she would hardly come willing now, would she?” Rowena said, placing the cage down. “But it’s a good thing that she doesn’t need to be human to sort out this little mess.”

They all stared at her as she reached into the cage and cut off a clump of fur from the hamster, the hamster squeaking indignantly.

“Hush dear, it’s not like I’m letting you out of that form anytime soon anyway.”  Rowena said casually, pulling out a small bag of ingredients and taking them all back to the bowl she’d used earlier.  “Alright, now, I just need some of her blood and some family blood.”

Crowley pulled out a needle filled with blood, causing a few odd looks.  “What? Like we wouldn’t assume that spells need this by now?  Certainly saves cutting into yourself every time.”

Sam and Dean share a look, Dean already having a knife in hand.

Dean cleared his throat.  “Alright, well, let’s get this over with.  I don’t suppose you have another one of those?”

Crowley smirks as he hands the needle to Rowena.  “No, can’t be prepared for everyone now, can I?”

Dean scowls at him and cuts his hand over the bowl.

They step back as magic crackled through the air, the hamster squeaking angrily.

“Why was the spell put on her exactly?”  Castiel asked.

“It appears that Daddy Winchester tried to kill her,” Rowena said, pouring a liquid into the bowl.  “Killed her coven but then couldn’t get to her, she wanted to give him a distraction to try and stop him hunting, which obviously never worked.  For any of them.”

“She clearly didn’t know our story too well.”  Dean growled.  “How long will this take?”

There is a loud bang and an acrid smell fills the space followed by white smoke that has them all coughing and trying to clear the air around them.

“Bloody hell that’s awful.”  Dean coughed.  “What the hell was that?”

There is a snap and the smoke clears, Rowena and the cage having vanished, leaving only the five of them in the room.

Caroline was stirring, her eyes opening slowly.  “Why does it smell like curdled milk?”

Crowley crouched by her side.  “Wonders of magic love, how are you feeling?”

She stared at him, her eyes clear.  “Better than I have in a long time, that’s for sure.”  She tilts her head and then smiles.  “Anyone would think that you're a little fucked out Crowley.”

“Jesus Christ Caroline,” Dean sighed even as Crowley chuckled.  “That's the first thing you are out with?”

“What would you prefer I say?” She asked as Crowley helped her to her feet.  “That I was happy he was keeping me alive by-”

“You finish that sentence kid, you’re dead.”  Dean growled, an Alpha note coming out in his tone, making her grin.

“Bite me Dean, you can’t do squat to me now.”  Caroline leans against Crowley, still a little unsteady on her feet.  “Hell, if I wasn’t so in need of about a months worth of sleep, I’d be on your arse, especially if you keep calling me kid again.  There’s not that many years between us buddy.”

“I still might have something to say about that.”  Crowley clipped in before Dean could keep arguing, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“Don’t think this is going to change the fact that you slept with our sister Crowley.”  Sam said. “No matter the circumstances.”

“Well, I did already say she’s my Alpha.”  Crowley grinned and then looked at Caroline.  “You smell divine by the way darling.”

Caroline laughs as Sam and Dean blanch, Castiel shaking his head. “I’m glad you are better Caroline.”

“Me too Cas,” She smiles warmly at him.  “And thanks for your help during all that.”

Crowley pulled her a little closer against him.  “Yes, well, let’s not talk about that, shall we?  Let’s get you somewhere comfortable so you can rest.”

“Wait-” Whoever said it was cut of as Crowley and Caroline vanished.

Caroline sunk heavily into the large bed, Crowley watching her, more than a little amused.

“Realistically love, this hasn’t changed much.”  He said as lightly as he could.  “We’re both still in a lot danger.”

She hums in agreement, the smile not leaving her face and Crowley wondered whether she heard.  He went to ask again when she spoke.

“You know what Crowley?”

He raises an eyebrow as she beckons a finger at him, getting him to lay on the bed next to her.

She looks at him, eyes tired but clear, no longer fighting waves of pain.  “I don’t really give a damn what anyone else thinks.  I’d like to see them even try and come after me, or you for that matter.  I think between us we’ve got a very good chance of surviving whatever comes our way.”

Crowley goes to argue, but she presses a finger to his lips before following it with her own in gentle, testing kiss, one that he responds to eagerly.

Pulling away, she smiles softly at him.  “We have a lot to work out, but right now, I really need some sleep.”

He sighs through a smile and presses his lips to the top of her forehead.  “Of course, love, no one is getting in here, you can sleep as long as you need to.”

Crowley gets back up as she gets herself settled on the bed.

“Crowley?”  She asked through a yawn, causing to him to glance back as he reached the door.  “You know magic right?”

He raises an eyebrow.  “Some.”

Caroline hums, her eyes drifting shut.  “Think you can help me out with hunting down and cursing a certain witch?”

Crowley stares for a moment before he chuckles, shaking his head. “It would be my pleasure darling.”

“Thank you.”  She said sleepily.

“You’re welcome.”

“For everything.”

Crowley went to answer again, but a soft snore reached him, causing him to smile and sigh, wondering, amusedly, just how he kept getting tied up with the Winchesters more and more.

[waywardrose13]

Running With Wolves- Chapter Two

Chapter One // My Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Feral!Omega!Reader (eventually)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, A/B/O dynamics, disownment of a child, abusive relationship (briefly), heat, angry!reader, possessive!Dean, mild smut, virgin!reader (implied), implied past attempted assault, and more angst

Series Warnings: Language, A/B/O dynamics, graphic violence, Feral!Reader, harassment, attempted physical assault, cheating, graphic murder, age-gap, more warnings TBD

Word count: 4421

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eleanor (OFC), Alaric Y/L/N, Eliza Y/L/N

Synopsis: She’s never been your typical omega. She’s never fit the stereotypical soft spoken and submissive role. Instead, she’s hot-headed and aggressive, leading people to believe her to be an alpha. “Borderline feral,” she’s called, and she can’t help but wonder if that’s what she’s been battling against her whole life. Being disowned by her own father and looked down upon by society for her biology kept her from allowing people to know she’s an omega. But when she meets her true mate, her secret is revealed, and she no longer feels safe inside her own home. Fast forward a year, Y/N Y/L/N is living peacefully with her alpha and his brother. Her temper had been kept at bay since being mated, and Dean Winchester never expected her to be the omega most alphas saw them to be. But when he breaks her trust, and her heart, she snaps, and the inner ferocity she fought so hard against for years comes to light, and the only thing that can save her from herself is her alpha, the one who betrayed her in the first place.

A/N- Chapter two! Thank you for all the feedback on chapter one! It helped motivate me to write the next chapter quickly:) I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and next chapter, we’re going to start seeing some serious borderline feral-ness from the reader;)

Feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated! It’s what keeps me motivated and it always makes me smile:)

I clung to the alpha’s jacket, sweat beading on my forehead as fire erupted from under my skin. He hadn’t said a word, swiftly carrying me through the parking lot and to a car. I was too dazed and wrapped up in my own heat to get a good look at it, or even protest to being put into a stranger’s car, and curled up in the front seat he place me in. I could vaguely hear shouting outside the car, my eyes fluttering a bit to catch a glimpse of the alpha and an even taller man yelling at each other outside, the alpha growling and pushing the other man back as he opened the driver’s door.

“Mine,” he snarled, shutting the door quickly in the man’s face and peeling out of the parking lot. Another forceful cramp hit me, and I groaned, my arms wrapping around my torso as pain ripped through my body. My clothes clung to my damp skin, making me even more uncomfortable than I already was. I could feel the alpha’s eyes glance at me periodically, but I barely noticed. My hands fumbled with my flannel, buttons being clumsily slipped out of their holes and the fabric was slipped from my shoulders. I wasn’t thinking much as the heat drove me mad, my hands stripping my undershirt off to leave me in a bra and jeans. The alpha finally placed a hand over my fumbling fingers as they messed with the button of my jeans. I whined at the contact, my body reacting to his touch on its own accord.

“Patience, omega,” he said softly, voice husky and warm like whiskey. His voice now a stark contrast from the bar, slow and soft; kind and gentle as he shushed me. I whimpered, crying out as a cramp hit me hard.

“Please, alpha,” I panted, writhing on the leather. “It hurts.”

“I know, omega. I know. We’re almost there,” he assured me, his hand moving back to the steering wheel. His body was tense, his self control amazing. An omega, his omega, in heat beside him, and he was keeping himself together rather well. I, on the other hand, felt as though I was going to burst into flames, my thighs rubbing together to try and soothe the growing ache between them.

After what felt like hours, the alpha stopped the car, getting out quickly and rounding to my side, lifting me with ease and stalked across the parking lot, pushing open a door and walking into a room.

He placed me on to a bed. It wasn’t overly comfortable, but it was good enough that I could stretch out on, my body twitching and writhing in discomfort. I could hear the door lock and the deadbolt be put into place, the distinct sound of a belt being undone making me realize that the alpha was a stranger, anxiety bubbling deep within me. The thought that I have never done this hadn’t crossed my mind yet, and I debated on whether or not to tell him. If I did, he may stop, and I fucking needed this. But the nerves were undeniable, and as I heard him take off his shoes and jeans, the reality of it all set in. I had never wanted to do this before now, the fear of an alpha claiming me or a beta spilling the beans that I was an omega too strong. But this was the strongest heat I’d ever had, and the fucking adonis undressing mere five feet from me made me want it now more than ever. There were questions, sure, but luckily I knew the aspects of it. I knew he was my true mate, and even though I was buzzing with nerves, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

He crawled up the bed, aiding in my fruitless attempts to get my jeans off. He took off my shoes and socks, slipping the denim over my ankles and tossing it behind him. I panted and squirmed, my hand traveling unconsciously down, fingers beginning to poke under my panties when a hand caught mine.

“I’ve got you, ‘mega,” the alpha whispered, bringing my hand up to kiss my fingertips, one by one. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N,” I said breathlessly. He hummed, his other hand running up my side with the touch of a feather, making me shiver.  

“I’m Dean,” he said slowly, knowing I wasn’t quite in the right headspace to listen. My eyes were closed, hands blindly reaching out for him.

“Alpha,” I pleaded.

“What’s your last name?” He murmured. I groaned in frustration.

“Y/L/N,” I said.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he said slowly, testing it on his tongue. He bent down again, scenting my neck. He moaned, hands tightening a bit on my waist as he placed a kiss to my neck.

“How old are you, ‘mega?” He asked, fingertips running over my cheek as he pulled back. I nuzzled his hand, leg lifting to wrap around his waist, hips bucking to rub against him.

“Please.”

“Answer the question,” he said.

“Twenty-three,” I grunted, impatient. I felt him stiffen for a moment, relaxing as I ran my hand up the side of his neck. “Now please… Take the pain away.”

His hand cupped my cheek, my eyes opening to lock with his emerald ones. He gave me a gentle smile, leaning down and pressing his lips softly to mine.

Seven Years Ago

I packed quickly, taking the absolute necessities. Clothes, my money stash, medicine and some of my favorite books. I picked up the thin rope bracelet on my dresser, enclosing it in my fist before taking a glance around my room. It wasn’t completely bare, but it was plain. Simple paintings inhabiting the cream walls, a black and white floral bedspread the only truly decorative thing in the room. My father never allowed such things like posters and colored walls. He wanted simple and elegant, a room that could fit a beta. A beta who never came to be.

I distinctly heard my father’s voice, loud and angry down the hallway. I gently shut my door behind me, looking to my right at my parent’s room.

“She’s a fucking omega! Do you know how this will affect me? Us? We’ll be the laughing stock of the town!” Dad yelled.

“She’s our daughter, Alaric. How can you throw her out on the street? An omega… alone. What the hell is wrong with you?”

I flinched at the sound of skin hitting skin. Closing my eyes, I wavered on my feet, teetering on the edge of running outside, and running to my mother. I clenched my jaw as a sudden burst of anger surged through me. A rage that unbeknownst to me, sparked a growing rage that would lead to future consequences.

“You will not speak to me that way,” he hissed. My mother didn’t reply, the lock on their door echoing softly as it turned, the knob jiggling. Swallowing hard, I sprinted down the stairs, knowing my father was expecting me gone. Dashing towards the front door, I bent down and picked up my tennis shoes, slipping them on as quickly as I could, dad’s steps down the stairs matching my crashing heart in my chest.

His eyes met mine as I stood up from tying my second shoe, both frozen in our places. His jaw ticked, the creak on the stairs letting us both know my mother has joined us.

“Can I say goodbye to her?” I asked. His lip twitched.

“No,” he said slowly. “You’re supposed to be gone already.”

“Right.” I nodded bitterly, giving him a smirk. “Because my presence will affect you, right? I’ll cause you to be the laughing stock of the town?” I chuckled darkly, eyes narrowing. He almost flinched at the look I was giving him, confusion and utter fear crossing his face. My eyes flickered to the stairs briefly before meeting his again. “I’m not sure I want to be living under the roof of an alpha who’s too wrapped up in his own self image and egotistical mind to care about his own daughter.” His bows raised. “An alpha more concerned with himself than his pack isn’t fit to be, well… the alpha.”

“What did you just say?” He asked lowly, stalking towards me slowly. I stood my ground, not fazed by his angered look, or the way his hand raised in preparation to strike me.

My eyes looked down at his hand, another dour chuckle slipping past my lips, making him stop in his tracks. I locked eyes with him once more, shoulders straightening as I said my final words to my father.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” I said, head tilting a bit. “I wouldn’t be afraid to fight back. I’m not your daughter anymore, remember?” I felt my nails sharpen a bit at my words, a threatening scent spilling from me, my father stiffening at the sudden change. He could feel it, feel my anger and the strange energy rolling off me. An energy and rage omegas didn’t have, something that scared him. “So hit me, I strike. Unlike Ma, I ain’t your bitch.”

And with that, I opened the door, stepping out into the sunlight, leaving my parents behind without another look.

Present Day

I felt heavy.

I was naked, my hands braced on the dingy motel room bathroom sink, head down and eyes closed. Waking up next to a body- a stranger- for the first time in my life was beyond nerve racking. Finding my true mate was even more so. My eyes flickered up to the mirror, locking on the claim that had been laid less than ten hours ago.  

I growled lowly, fist raising and punching the glass with such ferocity, it cracked and shattered, little shards raining down on the ceramic. I never wanted to be claimed. I never wanted an alpha. My mother’s words had rung in my head since I presented, the constant warning of alphas keeping me wary and distant. I refused to even get close to betas. But now I was tied to an alpha whom I just met, one I knew nothing about. I had already given a piece of myself to him, but I didn’t think he’d fucking claim me.

The door burst open, the alpha’s eyes wide and searching, a gun in his hand. I cringed away from it, scrunching up my face at the intrusion. I grabbed the robe hanging on the rack, slipping into it as he simply stared at the mirror.

“What the fuck?” He asked, looking down at me. My face was blank, but my eyes were hard, staring into emerald ones filled with confusion. “I thought you were hurt.”

“Nope,” I said. He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

“Why… Why did you break the mirror?” He asked. It was then that I noticed he was still bare, his fucking junk out for me to see in the morning light. He didn’t seem fazed by that fact, obviously very comfortable around me already. I, however, wasn’t.

“I was angry,” I said simply. I moved around him, doing the best I could not to touch him. He watched me, a puzzled expression on his face. I looked around the room for my clothes, finding them and picking them up, realizing my flannel and undershirt were still in his car.

And then another cramp hit.

I grunted, hand flying out to land on the headboard of the bed, eyes closing as I took a deep breath. I had been fine this morning, last night’s events keeping my heat at bay. But now the wave was coming back.

“Hey, hey,” Dean said softly, rushing to my side. I flinched as he got closer, and he recoiled immediately.

“Don’t… don’t touch me,” I said.

“What is going on?” He asked. “You were so… different last night.”

“Yeah, heat does that to you,” I snapped.

“The fuck is your problem?” He asked harshly.

I winced as I stood up straight, hand flying to my abdomen as another cramp hit. “You fucking claimed me last night.”

“Okay… and?” He raised a brow.

“You don’t see the problem with that?” I yelled. “We don’t know each other!”

“You’re my true mate!” He said. “Who the fuck else would claim you? Do you have someone else?”

“I… No,” I said.

“So what’s the problem?” He shook his head. He smiled a bit, walking forward again. He reached for me, and this time I let him take my hands in his, fingers gently lacing with mine. “Look, I never wanted to claim anyone. Ever. But I never thought I’d meet my true mate. The person I was supposed to be with. And last night, I swear, I wanted to wait. But the time came and I couldn’t help myself.” His eyes locked on the mark on my neck, his fingers reaching up to brush over it softly. “The life I live… It’s a dangerous one and I never would want to drag anyone into it. But if you’re my true mate, it means someone thinks you’re strong enough to handle it. And honestly, I could use something good in my life right now.”

I bit my lip, mulling over his words. He was right. I didn’t have anyone else, nor have I ever. Last night was the first glimpse I’ve ever had at the passion and emotions between two people. And even though I had just met Dean, I knew I wouldn’t want to leave him, even if he hadn’t claimed me. Being in his presence, I felt complete, like a part of me had been filled that I had been missing. I had been angry, furious, about being claimed. But his words had reassured me, made my heart swell just a bit. I smiled smally at him, embarrassed about how I had acted earlier. But I couldn’t control myself; the anger I seemed to always have. It seemed I was never able to.

I cringed and moaned in discomfort as the pain grew in my belly, my skin starting to itch and sweat. I lifted my chin, tilting my head a bit so my mark was clearer. I pressed myself against Dean, hands running up his bare chest to lock around his neck, my nose reaching to press against his throat.

“Alpha,” I whispered. He growled at his title, his arms wrapping tightly around me, lifting me up until my lips met his. He carried me to the bed, tongue licking into my mouth, lips soft but harsh against mine. Dropping me onto the mattress, he broke away, unceremoniously ripping the robe open to expose me. I writhed on the bed with need, skin flushing both from the heat and embarrassment from being so… bare. He could feel the uneasiness rolling off me, his lips dipping to kiss my stomach, moving up to the canal between my breasts, finally landing on his claim mark.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He said lowly, hands running down my sides to rest on my waist. He rolled his hips against mine, his hot member heavy and hard, making me gasp as it bumped my core.

“I… I don’t think so,” I said honestly, barely remembering anything from last night. He chuckled, pressing his lips to mine again, one of his hands traveling further south. His fingers danced across my pelvic bone for a moment, the increasing nerves bubbling inside me once more, worse than last night, not as delirious from heat now. They dipped lower, running up and down, pressing on the small bundle of nerves, making me jerk in his hold.

“Well then,” he whispered. He shuffled down the bed, giving me a lewd smile before pressing a kiss to my hip. “I guess I’m just going to hafta show you, hm?”

Seven Years Ago

My feet were killing me.

I was nearly across town now, halfway through the thicket of woods. It was the only place I could think of to go. The only place that I wouldn’t be kicked out of.

When the house finally came into view, I nearly sobbed with joy. Ignoring my aching feet, I ran, hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder. Just the mere sight of it brought a wash of calm and relief over me.

It was older. A southern farmhouse in a field past the woods of my small hometown. It was white with black shutters, a wrap around porch decorated with hanging pots of yellow and pink flowers. The steps leading up to the porch were old and cracked in places, much like the rest of the house, but it still had the familiar smell and feel of home and love.

I raised my fist and knocked on the door, hoping she hadn’t already gone to her Thursday meetings at the church. The cool wind blew my hair over my shoulder, the small swinging bench rocking lightly, the old chains squeaking loudly. I sighed, moving to peer into one of the windows. I could see the lowly lit sitting room and its hideously floral decorated walls, the open book and glass of water on the small table beside the ottoman chair.

I moved back to the door, about to knock, when it opened. The salt and pepper haired woman I was dying to open the door smiled warmly at me, her gray eyes kind.

“Why, Y/N,” she said, a hint of a laugh in her words. “What brings you out here?”

My smile faltered, brows furrowing. “He kicked me out, Ellie-” her eyes widened- “because I’m an omega.”

She swallowed thickly, pushing open the screen door and beckoning me inside. Sympathy was written across her face, her arms instantly wrapping themselves around me.

“Oh, my dear,” she said sadly. “My poor dear.”

I hugged her tightly, the familiar lemongrass and chamomile scent washing over me. She patted my back, pulling away to guide me into the kitchen.

“Won’t you have a slice of pie, Y/N?” She asked, motioning for me to sit at the breakfast table. I laughed softly, dropping my bag and complying, smiling at her as she set a plate with a slice of cherry pie in front of me.

“You don’t care that I’m… I’m an omega?” I asked, picking up my fork. She sat in the chair beside me, smoothing the tablecloth over round wood.

“No,” she said after a moment. She looked up at me, giving me a smile. “You know I wouldn’t. That’s why you came here.”

I let a short breath out of my nose, my lip twitching. Her hand landed on my knee, patting it gently.

“I’ll always be here, Y/N,” she said.

“I can’t stay here, Eleanor,” I said slowly. “It’s dangerous for you.”

“That’s rubbish,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve lived a full life, Y/N. I’m nearly eighty years old now. I don’t want you worrying about me.”

“If someone catches a whiff of me when my heat hits-”

“We’re too far away for that,” she said.

“God forbid someone sees me and tells my father.” I ignored her. “It’s just not safe, Ellie. Besides, you know how omegas are seen. What happens when people in town find out you’re housing one? Not only will they think less of you, but alphas could come here. And then you’d be caught in the crossfire.”

“Then why’d you come here?” She asked. There wasn’t a hint of anger or annoyance, simply curiosity.

“I dunno,” I said. I furrowed my brows, eyes trained on the table. “I guess I needed some place to regroup. To think things through. I needed somewhere safe.”

“Well,” she said, standing up. “You’re always safe here.” She got up to cover the pie, her lips pursed in thought. “I know you won’t stay long, but whenever you need somewhere to go, somewhere to feel safe again.” She looked back at me, a gentle smile gracing her features again. “You always will be welcomed here.”

Present Day

It was mid day when I woke again.

A fist was pounding at the door, annoyed huffs coming from outside. I lifted my head, confused.

“Dean!” A voice called. It was male, deep but not as deep as Dean’s. I looked over my shoulder at the alpha sleeping behind me, his arm still draped across my waist. I sniffed the air, smelling the scent I had been drawn to just two nights ago, and another, more unfamiliar one. It was similar to Dean’s, but wasn’t as attractive. It was slightly bitter and smelled more like any other alpha I had come across.

Sighing, I rolled out of bed, the alpha grunting at the loss of me under his arm. I smiled a bit at that, picking up his discarded flannel and my jeans. I slipped them on quickly, finishing up the buttons on the flannel as I unlocked the door, opening it a crack.

“De- oh.” The man took a step back, blinking a few times and looking down awkwardly. He was tall, even taller than Dean. His hair was a darker brown than my alpha’s, longer too, nearly to his shoulders. He looked intimidating with his width and height, but his hazel eyes were soft. “Is uh… Is Dean in there?”

I narrowed my eyes, tilting my head a bit. “Who are you?”

“His brother,” he said. “Sam.”

Dean hadn’t mentioned a brother, but now that I thought about it, the alpha in front of me sounded much like the man who Dean had been arguing with at the bar the night before. I swallowed thickly, glancing over my shoulder at the man who was beginning to rouse.

“Oh,” I said turning back to the tall alpha. I looked up to meet his eyes, but they were looking down at me, or rather, my neck. His brows were shot up, eyes wide as they stared at my skin where my hair had fallen away from. My hand automatically raised to hide it, his eyes then flickering to me.

“I… Dean… What…” He stuttered, trying to come up with words. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, eyes blinking rapidly.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice said behind me. His body pressed into my back, his arm curling around my waist. Sam’s eyes flickered down to where he held me, and then to Dean, and then back to me.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Sam blurted. Dean let out a long sigh, stepping out of the way. He brought me with him, pushing open the door enough for the newcomer to step in.

“Come on, Sam,” Dean said. “We’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Yeah, you think?” Sam asked walking into the room. He automatically flinched, nostrils flaring at the smell of sex and an omega in heat. His head snapped to me, Dean’s arm tightening as a growl ripped from his chest.

“Mine,” Dean snarled, Sam taking a few steps back with his hands outstretched in defense.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said. “Calm down. I’m not going to do anything.”

Dean’s arm tightened even more, his thumb rubbing slow circles on my torso. He stood tall, eyeing Sam warily.

“She’s mine, Sam,” he said.

Sam nodded slowly, giving Dean a confused look. “Yeah, you said that.”

“No. I mean, she’s mine, Sam.” I glanced up at Dean, watching as he tilted his head a bit, pursing his lips.

Sam was puzzled, his face scrunching up. His eyes looked between the two of us, eyes widening when he understood. “Oh, oh. So, like… You mean, she’s your…”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Sam smiled. He raised his hands a bit, letting them fall back to his sides. “This… This is awesome, Dean! Congratulations!” He looked down at me. “And you, too…”

“Y/N,” I said. His smile widened.

“Y/N.” He took a few steps forward, gauging Dean’s reaction before holding out his hand. “I’m Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger brother.”

I shook his hand, giving him a smile of my own. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Sam took a few steps back, his nose wrinkling again. I bit my lip to hold back my laugh as he glanced around the room for a moment.

“Look, how about we pack up and we can get back to the bunker,” Dean said. “We’ll meet you at the diner a few blocks down.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, good idea. I’ll see you guys later.” He gave us both another smile, giving the room one last look and bolted from the room, no doubt uncomfortable with the scent of an omega in heat.

“How’re you feeling?” Dean asked, turning to me. His hands cupped my waist, eyes sincere.

“I’m okay,” I said honestly. “A bit dizzy but no pain yet.”

“We don’t have to go eat if you don’t want to. There’ll probably be other alphas there and I don’t want you to be afraid. But, I’ll be there obviously. I’ll protect you.”

I smirked. “I’ve been alone for the past seven and a half years as an omega, Dean. I’ve never needed protecting before.”

“Have you ever been out alone while in heat?” He asked, raising a brow.

“I… Once.” I furrowed my brows, looking away. “Wasn’t a great experience.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, hand tightening. “Did someone…”

“No,” I said looking back at him. “They tried.”

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Well, you’ve got me now, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you, even if you don’t need my protection.”

I cupped his cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “What’s the bunker?”

He smiled. “It’s where Sam and I live. It’s like the bat cave.” His lip twisted up into a sour look. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to tell you that you just gotta trust me on.”

I raised a brow. “Okay?” He backed away and turned, picking up his discarded clothes and headed towards the small table where a duffel bag sat. “You said ‘we’. Does that mean I’m coming too?”

He stopped what he was doing, turning his head a bit. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I do. I just… where exactly are we going? Where are you taking me?” He turned to face me fully, a warm, gentle smile on his face.

“Home,” he said. “I’m taking you home, Y/N.”

>> Chapter Three

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Painter’s Embrace*

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC  |  Word Count: 3228 Warnings: Angst, hurt, fluff, smexy bordering on smut

Constance tried not to sigh loudly in the face of Mister George Bailey. A nice enough alpha, he danced attendance along with the others, but Constance had grown weary of his company.

She'd grown weary of all their company. Grown weary of the pretense. None of these males did for her what the Colonel had for Lizzy.

And she wanted that. She wanted heat and fire. Wanted uncontrollable desire. Wanted a male who looked at her like she was everything: the beginning and the end of all things. She was not that for these men. She was a prize to be won. Nothing more.

“Jarvis.”

Her father’s beta arrived instantly at her side. “Miss?”

“I am tired, Jarvis.”

“Gentlemen.” Jarvis’s wings, a deep russet and black swept up. “The lady is retiring. I shall see you out.”

There were six males in attendance today. All of which sought her hand for their own personal reasons. In other words, they were after her fortune.

Constance wasn't stupid. She knew that was her major draw. Her last name and the fortune attached to it had become a beacon causing every alpha with even a modicum of pedigree to pant at her wing tips. But she didn't want just any alpha; she wanted her alpha.

She wanted what her parents had. She wanted what Lizzy had.

Quietly bidding her suitors farewell, Constance stood and brushed past Mister Bailey to go and look out the window. Even know she knew Lizzy was upstairs with her prospective mate, likely getting into who knew what kind of trouble.

Well, not trouble per se, but a modicum of fun Constance envied. What she wouldn't give to have an alpha sweep her off her feet. What she wouldn't do to have one stroke her wings.

She would love to get her hands on those midnight feathers or into those raven locks. Feel the rough stubble of his unshaven face against her palm. Breathe in the scent of his skin once she’d divested him of the cravat which hid his scent-

Her thoughts came to a grinding halt.

What in the world are you thinking, fool? Constance berated herself.

Lord Barnes was nothing but a rake in a uniform. He’d made his opinion of her blatantly obvious, and to let herself daydream down that folly of a road would only lead to disaster.

Still, a quiet voice inside her whispered, he has magnificent wings.

She sighed softly and stretched her own out behind her to their full extent. It had been too long since she'd taken to the sky and let the air fill her feathers.

“What? Chase them all out already?”

Constance yelped and jerked her wings in. Pain tore it's way up her shoulder, and she grabbed for it when her wing drooped toward the floor. “Was that truly necessary?” she snapped, turning to face the man most prevalent in her thoughts.

He gazed at her without comprehension. “It was only a query. Not that I care about the males you bat your eyes at.”

“Not that, you ignoramus! You startled me, and now I have pulled something in my shoulder!”

He came to attention so swiftly it gave Constance pause. His entire remember changed, going from petulant ass to concerned Alpha so quickly it left her breathless when he cleared the room in five long strides.

“Show me,” he demanded.

“I'm well able to care for myself!” she snapped defensively.

He turned eyes of silver blue to hers. “I did not say you couldn't, but an injury of any kind to the wing muscles is not something to ignore. Now show me.”

This time the demand was accompanied by a brush of Will, firm but warm, which saw her submitting before she'd fully comprehended what was happening as she turned to give him her back. Gentle prodding of a rough hand had her standing very still until he found the sore spot and she hissed in pain.

“It's a flight muscle. You're grounded for two weeks.”

Constance gritted her teeth together and stepped away from him. “I shall take your opinion under advisement, Lord Barnes.”

“It's not an opinion. It's a statement of fact. If you try and fly with that muscle acting up, you could do permanent damage!”

“And I said I would take your opinion under advisement!” she huffed. “I'm not a child, sir. I can care for myself.”

He took a step closer. “Now you listen here you little fool! I'm trying to help you!”

“By ordering me grounded?” she gasped. “Who died and made you my alpha?”

Red tinted his eyes. “Do not sass me, omega.”

Constance’s wings slowly lifted, the one drooping when her muscles gave out, but the other lifted high and spread with her anger. “Do not speak to me like that again! Alpha or not, Lord or not, you have no right to speak to me like I'm yours! Not after last night and what you said. I am not some village girl you can treat with contempt one moment and order around the next! I am a Stark, Lord of Winterborne, and you will show respect to me in my own home or I will have you tossed out on your ass.  Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” he snarled. “But let me explain something to you, omega. I'm here at the behest of your father.” He stepped closer and locked his fingers around her wrist. “You can spit, and you can snarl all you like, but I'm not going anywhere until the Colonel tells me it's time to go.” The arm he had in the sling slowly pulled free of it as he backed her into the wall and closed his left hand around her throat.

He didn't squeeze but brushed his thumb over her scent gland and made her shake. Then, without warning, he laid the full weight of his Will against her.

Constance whined as her knees gave out.

“Make no mistake, my pretty omega. No one will make this Warlord Alpha leave before he's damn good and ready. Not you, not your threats about your father, nothing!” he hissed harshly, continuing to massage her throat.

“Alpha,” Constance whimpered, only for him to release her roughly and step away. She looked at him for one long, heated moment before rushing from the room, unwilling to allow her tears to fall in front of him.

It wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

She'd found him, her alpha, but he didn't want her.

***

Lizzy lay on Steve’s chest, her head pillowed over his heart. She felt… floaty, like when a strong updraft held one aloft without the need to work one’s wings.

Her dress had long ago pooled around her waist, though her stays and soft blue slip remained in place. His shirt was open to the navel, and her hand rested on warm, toned, ridiculously sculpted muscle. He liked her touch, had in fact, encouraged her to touch more; such was the reason for their scandalous lack of dress.

She smiled and rubbed her cheek on his chest. Not so scandalous, she supposed. They were courting, his offer of mating accepted, and if what Aunt Pepper had told her was true, her Aunt and Uncle’s interactions had been even more risqué during their initial encounters.

His hand had yet to leave the skin between her wings, his fingers tracing and dancing patterns on her flesh. The passionate kissing, touching, wandering of hands had pushed her farther than she was ready, but her alpha had known instantly and slowed down, bringing them to this position of comfort.

“I could sleep here,” Lizzy sighed. Never had she felt so warm or safe as she did in his arms.

He caressed her cheek, trailing his fingers down to her chin which he lifted so she could see his intense eyes. “You could if you wished it,” he offered quietly. “No one would think anything of it if you came to my bed, omega.”

Butterflies jumped in her stomach. Could she? Did she dare?

“I’m… not ready,” she whispered, looking away.

“Elizabeth Heartright,” he huffed teasingly, “I was only offering myself as your pillow. That you would imply I meant something nefarious,” he gasped and placed his hand on his chest, “I am shocked and appalled!”

She’d started to giggle long before he finished and wriggled around until her chin could rest on the back of her hand while she peered up at him. His eyes twinkled, his smile was full and genuine, and she smiled coyly. “Isn’t the Golden Devil known for his devious nature? A girl must protect her virtue from those who would seek to snatch it away, after all.”

He sat up slowly, all power and grace, forcing her thighs to part over his when he shifted their positions and laid her back on the seat. He was so gentle, tucking her wing, careful of her feathers, seeing each one lay flat and straight on the wing stuck between her body and the back of the settee. The other, he ran his fingers through, stretching it out long into the room, sending the pastel rainbows shimmering through the plumage.

Then, his began to lift, big and beautiful and golden, gleaming in the daylight streaming into the room. They went higher and higher, curved out slowly, then snapped outward, quick and sharp, cracking loudly in the silent room when the air was cut by his feathers.

Lizzy gasped, her heart pounding. He hovered over her, like a dragon who’d caught his prey, glinting fangs, red-rimmed eyes, and flexing muscle. His Will washed over her, caused her to quake and moan with the tender brushing. Heat built in her abdomen. Need hummed on the air. And when he lowered his head to lave his tongue along the edge of her stays, press beneath, and slide over the hard bud of her nipple, Lizzy growled.

“I assure you, Miss Heartright,” he rumbled, treating the other breast to the same attention, “if I wished it, I could be most nefarious. But,” he brought his mouth to the gland on the side of her throat, “I gave my word. At the Queen’s pleasure.”

His words whispered over her skin before his mouth latched down and pulled on the tender flesh. She gave a soft cry, the pleasure intense, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him down until his big frame pressed against hers. She needed the weight, craved it like she craved his scent. Craved the way he made her feel. Safe. Desired. Adored. Protected.

“Alpha! Please!” she begged, her legs falling farther apart, the fabric of her dress pinned beneath his hips. A surge of heat shot through her body when his ground down, giving her only some of what she needed. Still, the pleasure was beyond what she’d yet experienced, exciting her omega, and leading her down a dangerous path when she rumbled a purr, soft and low, meant to entice and invite her alpha to continue.

He rutted against her slowly, pushing, grinding, pressing the hard length of his arousal into her, soaking her pantaloons in seconds when heat began to build there. There, where before she’d only felt pain and discomfort, aching for something she had failed to find when each heat had torn through her body.

He collected her hands one at a time, drawing them up, linking their fingers together and holding them above her head. The rumble of his purr was nearly a growl when he bit lightly at her throat, nipped and sucked and licked her skin, leaving marks behind she was certain, but Lizzy found herself unable to care.

He was calling to her base self, stoking her instincts into a raging fire. She wanted him. She lusted for him. She was desperate to release the pressure building in her belly and heard her dress tear when she jerked her knee up to feel him better.

“‘mega,” he purred and it was an avalanche falling, a cascade of boulders tumbling through her body. “Lizzy,” he whispered, soft and sweet, barely audible above her harsh breathing. “Tell me you want me.”

“Oh, gods,” she whimpered, nearly screaming when his teeth scraped her skin.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Yes!” she cried, her hands clenching in his. “But I’ve never felt…”

“I know, my sweet dove,” he purred, kissing her tenderly, still rutting, still rocking into her aching center. “I could show you pleasure unimagined, Elizabeth.” She stiffened, but he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Completely clothed, my darling. Just like this. I could give you a taste, Lizzy. A taste of what being mine would entail.”

His eyes were heavily shuttered when she managed to bring her gaze to his, but there was enough room to see the bright sky blue swimming in a sea of red.

It gave her pause for only a second before she nodded slowly, giving permission. He hadn’t tried to force her, or coax her with his Will, only waited for her agreement.

Once she gave it, he settled further into her, adding more weight, shocking her that he’d held back, to begin with. Then his wings came down, covering them completely, closing them in a haven of darkness and heat, need, desire, and excitement swiftly suffusing the air. She tasted them on her tongue, just like she could practically taste her own arousal, so thick was the moist heat between her legs.

Again he began to grind his hips into hers, rut against her, but this time there seemed to be a purpose to it as the heat built swiftly in Lizzy’s belly. Her breasts burned, ached and tingled, then his mouth was there, hot tongue stroking, teeth nipping, sneaking beneath the edge of her stays again to curl and flick and worry her nipple. Her heavy breathing eventually worked to his advantage when the flesh worked its way upward with the assistance of his mouth. His lips closed over the entire bud and pulled.

Lizzy growled, excitement pulsing with the pleasure searing her veins. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. Not even flying filled her with such freedom as the attention of her alpha’s mouth on her body. When his hips connected the next time a shock ran through her, driving her head back into the settee in bliss, her throat arched, nose fogged with the intensity of the scents surrounding her.

She could smell him laced through them all, musk and pine and a sharp spice like cinnamon suddenly joining the bouquet. Lizzy knew instantly it was the scent of his arousal. Hot and sexy and she lost herself in the haze of instincts pounding through her blood when she twisted one hand free of his and buried it in his golden curls to pull his head up. He moaned, deep and throaty, and she tugged further, lifting her head to latch her mouth to his throat and suck hard.

His teeth snapped together, and he snarled, his now free hand sinking into her hair to hold her to him. The rutting of his hips became frantic, pulsing in time with the beat of her heart until the tight coiling the heat in her middle had been doing snapped, and she wailed, her cry cutting off under the onslaught of his mouth swallowing her scream.

He thrust gently twice more, sending her body reeling before going still above her. He continued to kiss her though. Long, drugging kisses, pulling every ounce of pleasure out of the action he could before letting his forehead rest against hers as he sucked in air.

“Thank you, omega,” he sighed, a smile curling his lips.

A blush coated her cheeks, and Lizzy looked shyly away. “That was… incredible.”

“Come to my bed,” he coaxed, placing soft kisses on her cheek and jaw. “I can show you more. So much more, Elizabeth.”

“Steven…” she hesitated, knowing just how easy it would be to give in and mate the Warlord Alpha.

“I give you my word, my dove, as a Colonel and an Alpha, I will not mate with you until you agree to it. Until you ask me to before a heated moment happening in my bed. I would never take advantage,” he promised, truth resonating in the words.

Lizzy bit her lip, wanting to give agreement, but hesitant toward the unknown. Could she trust herself with him? Could she keep her hands to herself when all she wanted to do was submit?

A pounding on the door had his eyes flashing instantly red right before he leapt to his feet, his leg giving out before a sweep of wings steadied him. He dragged Lizzy to her feet, had her dress up and refastened in an instant, his shirt buttoned, and was striding with his cane toward the door before she’d fully registered the intrusion.

Steve wrenched the door open. “Who the bloody hell interrupts a courting…” his voice trailed off.

The distress hit her but a second later and sent Lizzy stumbling forward. “Constance?” The woman’s face crumbled, but it was the abject despair which hung on her like a cloud which broke Lizzy’s heart. “Oh, Constance! What happened?”

“He… he… he,” she tried, only to shake her head when the crying wouldn’t stop.

“She smells like…” Steve’s nostrils flared, and his brows pulled together. Then, anger coated his face, followed swiftly by rage when red ran through his eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

He was gone out the door before Lizzy could ask, slamming it loudly behind him. Constance jumped and hunched in on herself at the noise, her wings snapping down as she bawled into her hands.

Lizzy rushed forward and hugged her friend. “Whatever has happened? Constance, please! You’re scaring me!”

She looked up, her face blotchy and eyes devastated. “He’s mine. He’s mine, and he doesn’t want me.”

It took a moment for what she was saying to make sense, but when it did, Lizzy felt all the blood rush from her head. “Lord Barnes? Lord Barnes is your alpha?”

She burst back into tears and nodded.

“How? Are you sure?” Lizzy asked, leading Constance toward the settee before changing her mind and taking her to the window seat instead.

A frantic nod was all Constance could manage for a few minutes as she sobbed against Lizzy’s shoulder. Finally, after soft coos and soothing pets, she calmed enough to give a coherent answer.

“He’s not wearing a glove on his left hand. I knew it the second I smelled him. He’s mine, Lizzy… and he doesn’t want me.” Constance closed her eyes and curled in on herself, her head landing against the window pane. Her wings lay limp behind her, the picture of pain.

Lizzy stared in disbelief. It wasn’t possible. It didn’t happen. Alphas didn’t reject their omegas. Ever.

She took Constance’s hand and held it tightly between her own, silent tears now falling down her face.

Whatever were they going to do?

Next Chapter

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Painter’s Embrace

Chapter One

Introduction (Read Me First)

Summary: Set in the Regency Period, this is my submission for @yourtropegirl ‘s Historical AU Challenge (and it’s been a bitch to write. I created a world for you, woman. There had better be cookies!) Please note this is an ABO fic, but it is not your regular ABO style of dynamic. For more information read the Introduction first. Also, this fic will be slower to update as the research takes longer. It will not update weekly!

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x OFC  | Word Count: 5276 Warnings: None

Lady Elizabeth Heartright, the darling of the Ton - the high society set of stuffy and rather tedious people she socialized with - was standing in the ballroom of Iron Court, doing her best to ward off the unwanted advances of many a suitor. She had only just managed to escape out from under the attention of Lord Davenport, the overbearing alpha who seemed unable - or more likely unwilling - to take no for an answer, and she was desperately thirsty.

Just because she was an omega did not mean she would roll over for the first male who snarled at her, and this male had been snarling for quite some time. However, having been raised by an alpha father and a beta mother, and being the Omega Queen she was, she had far more backbone than most women of her type.

It was off-putting to some, but, all in all, she had decided if the males who came calling could not handle a little bite in their omega, she did not want them for an alpha. As she was also the heir to the Heartright fortune, every male with even a modicum of pedigree was hanging off her primaries. Weeding out a few of the less desirable set, those who could not tolerate her… quirks made her life easier.

She shook her wings to free the tension in her shoulders. They’d been held in a defensive position for so long Lizzy was certain she would have a headache to contend with the next day thanks to her tight back muscles.

“Lady Heartright, you are most fortunate to have caught the eye of Lord Davenport. He is a fine alpha,” Martha Winthrop said, swooning slightly at Lizzy’s side.

She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “I would rather have caught the eye of a mallard,” she muttered, tugging her glove up her elbow and taking the cup of punch offered her by the servant at the refreshment table. Martin’s eyes twinkled merrily, apparently enjoying her pronouncement, but she did not hold it against him. The landed servants of this house all knew they could trust her to keep her mouth shut when it came to their amusements and entertainments.

“Lady Heartright!” Martha gasped, her blue eyes wide in shock and dowdy grey wings fluttering in distress. “Hush yourself. Whatever would your mother say?”

“She would say Lizzy had every right to choose her mate, Miss Winthrop. Now, go away and let Lizzy be.”

Lizzy smiled past the rim of her cup at the approaching woman in sky blue silk. The high waist of her gown was patterned with loops of pearls and heavy embroidery, mimicked on the short, puffy sleeve. Wings of black and grey swept out behind her, a startling contrast to Constance’s bright red hair. Had it been anyone else to speak so to Martha there would have been hell to pay, but, as it was Constance Stark, daughter and heir to Lord Stark the Earl of Iron and host for the evening, Martha bobbed a curtsey and hurried off, her wings folded tightly to her spine.

“Thank you, Constance,” Lizzy said, linking her arm through the proffered one after returning her cup to the servant.

She smiled and led Lizzy away from the refreshments to take a slow turn around the room. “I was actually coming to save you from the advances of Lord Davenport when father waylaid me.” An omega herself, she lifted her wings high and wrapped one around the back of Lizzy, indicating their desire for privacy when the males looked to advance upon them.

Lizzy and Constance had been friends from birth, the Starks and the Heartrights close in both age and distance, so when at the tender age of ten both of Lizzy’s parents were killed in a carriage accident, it had been to the Starks she had gone.

Her father’s will had made it quite clear Lizzy was to be allowed to choose her own path in life and love, as her parents had before her, and Lord Stark had been most accommodating. Yes, it was an oddity in this age, a woman, an Omega Queen at that, being allowed to rule her own life, but Anthony Edward Stark was an eccentric man himself.

An inventor, he had created many a unique trinket. Some of which had gone to help the war effort against Napoleon and his army. Lord Stark was an oddity, but then his wife, Lady Pepper was no better. An alpha and an omega who fit so perfectly their love was blinding, but Lord help anyone who tried to intimidate Lady Pepper.

The woman was as fiery as her hair and wings implied. A vibrant red, Lizzy had heard her take many an overbearing alpha or beta to task with the sharpness of her tongue. Was it any wonder the Ton knew both Lizzy and Constance as spirited women?

Stubborn was the word used by polite company. Pigheaded was the one used behind closed doors. Unseemly most likely as well.

Such was the reason that at twenty and one summer’s Lizzy was still unmated and unwed. She had yet to find a mate to suit her. One for whom she could love and be loved without the restrictions of society. One who could tolerate her strong-headed ways, silly quirks, and stubborn qualities. She would not be meek. She would not simper and cower and walk two steps behind her alpha. She would be his partner in life. Not just a body he could breed his offspring on.

“Take a breath, Lizzy. Your irritation is spiking,” Constance murmured, curling her wing tighter around them.

“My apologies. I was woolgathering again,” she sighed softly.

“You worry you will never find an alpha worthy of you. I understand, Lizzy. I have the same fear.”

It was too dower a subject for such a splendid fête, and Lizzy pushed the distressing thoughts to the side. “Tell me what your father wanted?”

“It appears his honoured guests have arrived. He was going to greet them personally before bringing them into the ball and was stepping away for a moment.”

“This is the Earl of Denton and his friend? The ones from the war effort?” Lizzy asked curiously.

The Earl was spoken of frequently and with great admiration by Lord Stark. He had been a staunch supporter of Tony’s weapons and gadgets, using many of them himself on the front lines of the battle.

“Indeed,” Constance giggled softly, her excitement clear in her scent. “Father is most pleased to meet them after corresponding with them for so long. Tis a shame it is injury which has returned them to us from France, but good fortune the Earl lives only a short flight away.”

Lizzy wondered if some of Constance’s excitement was due to how both males were unknown to them. Perhaps one would make a fitting mate for her friend. For Lizzy herself, she simply hoped neither would chase after her like a hawk after a sparrow. She was tired of the constant barrage of suitors, almost ready to place herself squarely off the market simply to have a break from the incessant banter.

She knew as all omegas did, she was a highly desirable commodity. She was also not blind to the image of herself in the mirror. Her hair had been likened to a raven’s feathers so many times; she often wished she could change it if only to hear a different remark. Her wings, a swans crowning glory dipped in the moon’s shining beams was enough to make her gag. Her eyes like storm-swept skies… Please! She’d read better prose in the trashy novels smuggled in by the landed servants.

“How nice for them,” she commented absently.

“Lizzy, darling, are you feeling alright?” Constance asked, giving the air a surreptitious sniff.

“Stop it, Constance. You know you and I… do that at the same time.” She blushed, refusing to speak about heats in public.

“You appeared so sad, Lizzy. I was worried about you,” Constance murmured, coming to a stop in a slightly secluded corner of the ballroom.

Lizzy sighed and leaned her head against Constance’s shoulder, her best friend’s wings now hiding them fully from view. “I have grown weary of the pretense. At times I think I should simply become the maiden aunt to your offspring and spend father’s fortune on frivolous things. Perhaps I should become an eccentric cat collector.”

“Perish the thought!” Constance scoffed, not a cat person herself. “But I know, love.” She smiled gently, cupping Lizzy’s cheeks. “Do not give up hope just yet. I truly believe something good is about to happen.”

“If you say so.” Lizzy wiped the lone tear from her cheek. “I will forever be grateful to your father for never once pushing me to choose.”

“Mother would pluck his feathers if he tried,” she giggled, returning them to their leisurely strolling.

“Uncle Stark is most vain about his feathers.” The man had large wings of black and red and gold. They were quite stunning and most intimidating when he was in a mood. “At times I think he spends more time preening than even you, dear Const…” Her voice trailed off when the hullabaloo erupted near the entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stark called out, his wings lifted high as he stood atop the stairs. “It is my great honour and privilege to present to you, Colonel Rogers, the Earl of Denton, and Lieutenant Colonel Barnes, Lord of Winterborne.”

The alpha’s wings swept down, and Lizzy’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh… my,” she whispered, unable to pull her eyes from the blond man in the red military uniform with ropes of gold braiding and lapels of navy. He stood tall and regal at the top of the stairs in breeches of white silk and high boots. Though impeccably dressed, he was outfitted so differently from the rest of the men in the room he quite stood out from the others.

His short cropped hair curled ever so slightly at his ears and over his forehead, while eyes of crystalline blue could be seen even at a distance. When he stepped forward and bowed to the room, she felt a blossom of heat curl in her core for he had the most beautiful golden wings she’d ever seen.

They lifted up, high and wide, spreading out behind him magnificently. Lizzy had never seen so many shades of gold. Everything from deep, rich antique to bright and shiny as a newly minted coin. It wasn’t until his primaries fanned out she noted the shocking touch of bronze along the tips.

Her heart fairly pounded, and she lifted a hand to her throat to contain the flutter. “Constance…” she whispered.

“Oh… my,” her friend sighed.

Lizzy felt a moment of panic. Certainly, Constance couldn’t be as entranced by the alpha - and an alpha he must be with those wings - as she was. When she darted a glance her way, Lizzy nearly sobbed in relief for Constance’s gaze was not on the golden one, but rather the rougher looking dark male at his side.

Lord Barnes appeared the quintessential rake in his red uniform and breeches of black highlighting his thick muscles. He was dressed as the Earl in high boots though his hair was a touch too long to be fashionable. When his wings lifted, brushing along the edge of the Earl’s in a move born of familiarity, Constance sighed at their grandeur. They were the deepest, purest black Lizzy had ever seen. They appeared to absorb the light around him until he was wreathed in shadow and proclaimed him an alpha as well.

In truth, he scared Lizzy a little. There was a hardness to him she was disinclined to be acquainted with. But Constance, her much more adventurous friend, appeared wholly enamoured of the dark soldier.

It was not until the two men made to descend the stairs that Lizzy became aware of the injuries which had seen them returning home. The Colonel leaned heavily on a silver-headed cane, his limp pronounced, while a sling tied across his body hindered the Lieutenant's left arm.  

“Come, Lizzy dear. We should make our presence known to them before they are encumbered by any number of fawning females.”

She eyed Constance with amusement. “Are you not simply adding yourself the mix of fawning females?”

“What? No!” she huffed. “As a Stark myself, and you as father’s ward, it is only correct we introduce ourselves.”

Lizzy detached her arm from Constance with a small smile. “You go on. I am going to take in the air on the terrace. It is far too stuffy in here for me.” And with everyone flocking to the newcomers, perhaps she could find a moments peace and a welcome touch of privacy.

“Are you certain you are alright?” Constance asked, torn between coming with her and inserting herself into the growing circle of simpering omegas.

“Go. I will be fine.” She smiled, patted Constance’s hand, and shooed her away.

Once her friend was off in a flutter of feathers, Lizzy turned to the exterior doors and made her way outside to stand in the shadows along the railing.

It was a soft night in the English countryside. The air was fresh and clean, the stars were bright, and she inhaled the satisfaction of it. But it was a short-lived peace for, when she lifted her wings high and wide behind her, letting them stretch after the tightness induced by Lord Davenport’s presence, a hand, big and rough and unwanted, landed on the bare flesh between them.

Her shriek of fear ripped through the night as she spun to face the intruder, snapping her wings around herself protectively to glare at the man for whom she held only contempt.

“Come now, darling. Is that any way to treat your alpha? When will you end this charade? We both know you will be mine eventually.” Davenport leered at her, his hand skimming the edge of her feathers.

“Do not touch me, sir!” Lizzy yelped, stepping back and finding herself trapped against the railing.

He stepped into her, murky brown wings coming up to hide them from view, the alpha doing his best to intimidate her into submitting. “Why should I not touch what is mine, little omega? You keep running from me, but you will give me what I want eventually.”

He gripped her by a wing and yanked her toward him, causing Lizzy to cry out and fear to explode in her scent. “No! Get away from me!”

He dragged her closer and pushed his nose into her neck, stroking it up to scent her and leaving his foul one behind when he licked at her skin. “You smell lush, Elizabeth.”

“Someone, help me!” she cried. Well aware the noise of the ball would likely muffle her plea, Lizzy brought her free wing up, smacking him in the jaw with the hard arc of bone, knocking his face away and his grip from her feathers.

“You will pay for that, omega!” he snarled, eyes tinting red.

She wanted to cower, wanted to back away from the rage, but she would not fall beneath the Will of this heinous male. “Stay away from me!” Lizzy snapped, sweeping her wings down to launch herself to the railing she was trapped against. “Your company is neither requested nor wanted. I reject you, Lord Davenport, and shall be informing Lord Stark of this blatant breach of good manners!”

He made to lunge for her, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“The lady has made her wishes known, sir. It is time for you to abandon your quest.”

“Who the hell do you think you are interfering in business between an alpha and his omega?” Davenport snarled as he spun around, wings raised high, seeking to intimidate Lizzy’s would be rescuer.

Lizzy gasped when the other male’s wings lifted and snapped outward. They fairly doubled that of Davenport’s and were shining shimmering gold. The omega in her whimpered, and Lizzy nearly did as well when she whispered, “Warlord Alpha.”

***

“I would be Colonel Steven Grant Rogers, Earl of Denton, and I would thank you, sir, to stop harassing that omega! She clearly is not yours nor does she wish to be.” Steve felt his alpha surge, the secondary biology which drove him to follow instincts old as time. It whipped out as a lash against the lesser alpha, slapping him with a wall of his Will not many could resist for long.

His instincts had led him here to the terrace when his ear had caught the first muffled scream. When he’d arrived at the door to find the woman needing assistance was the incredible dove he’d seen across the ballroom, his heart had clenched.

She was lovely with hair like ink, skin like cream, and eyes of slate grey, but it was her wings which had drawn his attention. Even across the expanse of the room he could see they were the purest of white, a shimmering alabaster, but stretched to their full extent as she made to escape her assailant he found they were even more remarkable for not only did they proclaimed her a Queen, but the underside gleamed like mother of pearl. A cascade of pastel colours, all soft and glorious, while the tip of her primaries appeared dipped in silver.

His artist’s heart thumped a hard cadence. What would it take to have her agreeing to sit for a portrait? Would he even be able to capture the magnificence of such wings?

Her impassioned snarl was so unlike an omega he’d had to take a moment to find his bearings before making his way out on the terrace to assist her; the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten.

“The Golden Devil…” Davenport whispered, the red leaving his eyes as his wings folded submissively behind him. “I beg pardon, my lord.”

“You should be begging the pardon of Lady…?” He looked up to the ethereal creature standing on the railing like an Egret about to take flight.

“Heartright, my lord.” She bobbed an effective curtsey for one so precariously perched.

“Lady Heartright as it is she you have distressed.” Steve glowered at Davenport until the man snapped a swift bow.

“Miss. I beg forgiveness for my forward actions. I shall inform your Uncle I will be withdrawing my suit. Good evening.”

He straightened, nodded to Steve, and returned inside, allowing Steve to appreciate the beauty before him fully. The shimmering lavender of her gown hugged her breasts. He could tell she would be trim of waist and round of hip even had she not been laced into a corset. The ribbon beneath her breasts was a darker variation of purple, strung with beads and jewels, a match for the bands of her sleeves and the collar of her pretty dress. Pins held up her curls, ones of flowers and butterflies, appearing to fly across the blanket of night her hair had become.

She was utterly disarming.

He had never been so enraptured by a woman at first glance before. Then, the breeze shifted, carrying her scent to his nose and he almost growled. Mine. The stunning dove was his.

His mate. His omega. His Queen. His.

And her fear scented the air.

The very thought of her being afraid of him snapped him out of his haze of scents and instincts. “You are safe,” he said softly, stepping closer, his limp going unnoticed in favour of enticing the little female to him. “Come down, pretty dove.” He held up his hand to assist her, lowering his wings to be less threatening, but leaving them spread out, a hard to resist temptation.

She looked at him suspiciously for a time, one hand repeatedly rubbing over the scent gland on her throat, driving him insane with the desire to do so himself. After what felt an eternity of time, she reached for his hand and took it gently to step with grace and a curl of her wings to the ground.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, unable to look away from her eyes. “A gentleman must assist a lady in distress.”

She blushed, the colour highlighting her cheeks. “What a special breed of gentleman you must be. Not many would have stood against Lord Davenport.”

“Aggravating sot,” Steve muttered, earning a surprised giggle. The musical sound made him smile. “Would you sit with me, Lady Heartright? I’m afraid my leg is still not quite healed.”

“Oh! How dreadful of me to keep you standing. Please.” She took his arm and led him slowly across the terrace to sit on a stone bench.

Steve stretched his leg out and rubbed at his thigh, well aware of the spike of interest which floated between them. Unlike him, who’d caught the delectable natural scent of her and knew without a doubt she was his, his high collar, cravat, and heavy waistcoat effectively masked his scent to the point where she had not yet caught his.

“Heartright… Heartright… would you be Elizabeth Heartright, the ward of Lord Stark?” he asked, tilting his head, studying the way the moonlight seemed to shimmer over her feathers.

“Yes. He is my uncle… of a sort,” Lizzy smiled.

“Of a sort sounds rather mysterious. Are you a mysterious sort of omega, Lady Heartright?”

She laughed, bringing her gloved fingers to her lips before rubbing, again, the spot on her throat. It lifted her scent into the air, one mixed with that of Davenport.

His audacity offended Steve greatly. To mark an unwilling omega in such a way was frowned upon. This was not the days of yore when omegas were seen as chattel, property to be owned and parcelled out. They were people, human beings, and should be cherished and pampered, not bullied and forced.

“I hate to be a disappointment, my lord, but I am a plain country girl.” She shook her head, her eyes alight with amusement.

Steve reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled forth a handkerchief scented with lavender. “For your neck, if you’ll permit me?” he asked, motioning to the spot which was bothering her.

Her eyes grew round, and he thought she would reject his offer before a shift came over her, a rise of her secondary nature. She may not have caught his scent, but her omega was not averse to his alpha.

“Would you?” she asked softly.

Perhaps it was forward, but Steve would not allow himself to think of the impropriety when his need to care for the beautiful omega was making his alpha snarl. Evidently, her omega was pushing her to let him in much the same fashion.

Without further thought, he leaned toward her, her scent intoxicating to his senses. It made his head swim, and he longed to tuck his nose in her throat and lick away the offending odour of the other male. Instead, he gently wiped the linen over her skin.

She tilted her head, the act a submissive one which saw Steve biting back another growl. When the scent of the other male no longer lingered on her skin, he pulled away, but not before grazing her jaw with his thumb.

“Thank you, my lord,” she sighed. “His advances were unwanted. His actions even more so.”

“I am glad I arrived before he could force your hand,” Steve agreed.   

“Would you explain something to me, my lord?” she asked softly, her fingers twisting together.

“If I can, I will do so.”

“What did Lord Davenport mean by The Golden Devil?” She looked up at him with curious eyes.

Steve chuckled softly and shook his head. “It was a name given me by my men. The French captured Lord Barnes and a contingent of my soldiers. I knew where they were, and knew how to get to them, but was told to stand down and wait for reinforcements. Lord Barnes, James who goes by Bucky, has been my best friend, my brother, since our nursery days and when my parents passed, his took me in. I could not, would not leave him to the French. I disobeyed orders, went in after the contingent alone and freed the soldiers. We fought our way out, taking down one of Napoleon’s strongholds in the process. Bucky had been… well, it is not for polite company.”

“Tortured?” she asked, concern in her voice. “And as for polite company, I find it dreadfully dull. Speak as you will, Colonel Rogers.”

He smiled at her, happy to have her drop the my lord stuffiness. He was too long in the military with men of a rough and tumble nature to hold with such formalities. “Yes, the Lieutenant had been tortured, his injuries great, but I refused to leave him behind. I fought my way through with Bucky on my shoulder. The men said watching me fight, wings high and sweeping, was like watching the devil. After, whenever we went into battle, it was said the sight of my wings alone was enough to send Napoleon’s forces fleeing. We were turning the tide of the war till this took me down.” He slapped his thigh with a sigh.

“And your friend? Was he also injured so?”

“In the same battle. Barnes is a crack marksman. A sniper, but when he saw me go down, he came to assist and took a bullet for his trouble.”

“Oh, how brave but how terrible,” she said, drawing her left wing closer. She winced when it moved, sending pain and distress into the air.

“Are you injured from your ordeal, Lady Heartright?”

“My wing is a trifle tender. I’m afraid Lord Davenport was rather insistent.”

Steve growled, low and deadly, but tenderly touched her sore wing. “Forgive my forwardness, but if anything is damaged…”

“No… I… I understand,” she blushed, extending it out to him.

As gently as possible, he manipulated the bones and tendons. When he finished, assured she was only bruised, Steve was unable to resist running his palm over the sleek feathers. “You have the most beautiful wings I have ever seen. I suppose one would say they were like a swan’s dipped in moonlight,” she stiffened, then sighed as if disappointed, “but I would not.”

“You wouldn’t?” Surprise had her lifting her head.

“No.” Steve shook his head, tenderly tracing a finger over the arch of her wing. “They are like a blanket of fresh snow upon the hills which sparkles beneath the glow of a full moon. A ribbon of a frozen river appears silver beneath the night sky to tip your primaries in its glory.”

She looked at him with eyes full of wonder before they darted down and away. “You… you honour me, Colonel,” she murmured.

A host of emotions rose from her to thrum against his alpha. Happy, surprised, pleased, embarrassed. They seemed to swirl in his nose and stroke his ego, urging him onward in his early pursuit of this sweet omega.

He gently manipulated her wing to touch the interior of her stunning feathers hesitantly. “But this, my lady, this took my breath away. It is as if someone inlaid your feathers in mother of pearl. I have never seen such wonders before.”

She blushed and gently pulling her wing from his grasp so they could sweep submissively down her back. Her lashes fluttered and more pleased, happy, awed appeared in her scent. “I must admit, yours are… quite fetching as well.”

“These?” he asked sliding one forward, so it opened and cut off the light from the ballroom.

“Magnificent,” she whispered. Her hand lifted, but she hesitated before reaching for the top of her glove. She peeled it down, exposing her smooth forearm, only to pause at her wrist. “Please, do not think less of me?”

“I could never,” he whispered and took her hand to pull away each finger of her glove, freeing her of the fabric.

Her hand returned to his wing and gentle fingers, warm and soft, stroked languidly down them.

Steve felt her touch all the way to his soul. His cock jumped when she pressed her palm against his secondaries and jumped again when she traced the edge of one of his bronze-tipped primaries.

“They are so beautiful.”

“Omega,” he rumbled softly.

She turned to him, hand buried still in his feathers. Shy was written all over her posture.

When he held out his hand, she gave hers over willingly. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on the bare flesh. “Lord Barnes and I will be in residence a few days to discuss… things of a military nature with Lord Stark. Would it be forward of me to ask to spend time with you while we are here? To… to call upon you, Lady Heartright? Perhaps take in the grounds?”

“Yes,” she whispered, taking her hand back with reluctance to return her glove to its proper place.

“Yes, it would be forward, or yes, you would take a walk with me? Albeit a short one,” he teased gently, patting his thigh.

“Oh, no… I mean yes, I mean…” she cleared her throat, “I would be most delighted to take even a short walk with you, my lord.”

“And here I thought we’d slipped past silly formalities.” He took her hand and got slowly to his feet to balance on his good leg while he tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow. “I would be most pleased for you to call me Colonel Rogers, my lady.”

“Colonel,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with reflected stars.

“Allow me to escort you back to your Uncle.” He needed to stake a claim before another could, and speaking with her Uncle would expedite things.

“How did you manage to make it through all these people to assist me?” she asked, looking up at him curiously as they stepped back inside.

He smiled softly down at her. “Not many people can stand against me when I put my mind to something, fair lady.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed.” He bent a little closer, aware of the eyes on them. “I always get what I’m after. It’s part of my charm,” he said with a roguish smile.

She laughed in surprised delight. “I’m sure you are most charming… for a Golden Devil.”

Steve only smiled, pleased with her wit as her shyness waned, and lifted his wings to settle one behind hers before casting a glance around the room at the many disappointed faces both male and female. Clearly, they had all been hoping for more from both himself and the darling woman with him.

But it was of little consequence for this Golden Devil would have his sweet White Dove. Nothing and no one would stand in the way of a Warlord Alpha in pursuit of his Omega Queen.

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