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It was a requirement for all servants of the palace to be Betas. It made things easier; no messy entanglements, no time off required for heat or rut, while it made finding a lover more difficult, it made finding a job and putting food in your belly simple.
There were few exceptions, those higher up on the food chain-- like the royal guard --were allowed to be Alphas, so long as they knew their place. It helped to have at least a few around. Nearly all of the courtiers were Alphas as well, though a few cushy Omegas sat pretty in the court.
And of course, the Count and Countess were the Alphas on top: having ultimate and unwavering sway.
And also both deeply in the throes of their own rut.
It permeates the palace like a hot, wet blanket. Like smelling the sweetest perfume, but also the headiest brew of ale, both strong, yet pleasant. And kind of dizzying.
You nearly trip on your way back into the kitchen, the smell of pastries baking just barely being enough to clear your head. You can't recall a rut ever affecting you this much, though you also suppose you’ve never worked so close to an Alpha in rut.
The Baker snaps their fingers in front of your face, grabbing your attention.
"Hey, you alright there? You seem out of it." They seem more annoyed than worried, but you can see the concern in the way their eyebrows are drawn together. They were a rather stern figure among the servants, but they weren’t without sympathy. You were usually very put together and on top of things, it wasn't like you to be lost in thought and tripping over yourself.
"Sorry, I must be coming down with something. My head just feels foggy." You wanted to deny it, but your head did feel heavier. And the kitchen felt hot, but you didn't feel like you were sweating. It felt like a dry heat, like you were baking in the clay ovens alongside the pastries, not the usual, residual heat.
The Baker whistles one of the other servants over.
"Take them to Jules." They direct, before turning back to you. "You're no good to me with a head full of cotton. See the doc. Take the evening off." They clap you on the shoulder before you're led off towards Doctor Devorak's study in the library.
While the miasma of the Count and Countess’ rut reached every corner, passing the Count's wing is where it's the worst for you. The stairs leading up to the Alpha's domain waft the smell of his rut down into the palace halls, making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. That heady smell prompts your dizzy spell to make a reappearance, but you soldier on, albeit with heavy, and slightly unwilling feet.
The servant leading you gives you a bit of a side eye. They were a blunt sort, but usually a chatterbox, their buttoned mouth leaves you unsettled. Their subtle at first, but their stare starts to linger more as the two of you walk.
"Can I help you?" You finally snap, the outburst immediately feeling like too much, and making you clutch your head with a groan.
They catch you by the shoulders to steady you.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to be rude but… are you sure that you're… you know?"
You stare at them for a moment like they just asked you if you wanted to clip Melchior and Mercedes' claws.
"All I'm saying is, sometimes people… bloom late! And with the Count and Countess being in rut--"
"That's a load! Do you know how old I am?? I've worked through an Alpha's rut before. I'm no pup. And I’m certainly no Omega."
They throw up their hands defensively. "I was just asking! Suggesting! I don't know! Maybe you've got Hay Fever. Or something! That's why you're seeing Jules, right?" Without further conversation, they continue leading you off towards the library, though it’s clear that they’re unconvinced.
They unlock the large, intricate door for you before abandoning you there in front of the library, bidding you a hasty farewell.
There's a sign posted on the door, message scrawled messily front and center:
"Keep door CLOSED."
The last word underlined several times.
Something tells you to be quick entering the library, so you do exactly that, shoving the heavy door closed tightly behind you. You suppose it makes sense, the library is the only place where you can breathe deeply without feeling like you’re inhaling nothing but Alpha pheromones. It’s still present, but faintest here.
"Jules?" You call out, making your way towards the back of the library, towards the little alcove where his messy desk sat.
Julian seems captivated by his work, yet frustrated, muttering to himself while writing and frantically crossing other things out. His leg is bouncing under the desk, and he's halfway out of his seat, gloves and overcoat long forgotten on the floor.
He hasn't even noticed that you're in the room.
You contemplate tapping him on the shoulder, but you settle for clearing your throat.
Which seems to do the trick, seeing as Julian nearly jumps out of his own skin. He looks rightfully shocked, before blushing, and righting himself, fixing you with his signature, charming smile.
"How may I be of service, my dear?"
You can't help but smile, the man was so animated, it tickled you.
"Hey, Jules. I'm a bit out of sorts, foggy head. I don't think it's anything to fret over, but the Baker insisted that I come see you."
He goes from charming and clumsy to serious in a heartbeat, closing the gap between the two of you and feeling your forehead. His hand is warm, but not nearly as warm as you feel. It’s a blessed cool against your feverish skin, and you lean into it without thinking. The man might be a bit of a goof, but he took his job as a doctor very seriously.
"Any other symptoms? You're dreadfully warm." He mutters the last bit to himself as his eye flits over you, as if he's trying to find something amiss.
"I feel warm. But it doesn't feel like a fever usually does. It feels like…"
"Hotter than Summer in Nopal? Like your skin is too tight for your body?" He finishes your thought almost precisely, looking at you intensely.
"Yes, exactly like that, actually."
"Anything particularly harsh on the senses lately? Light sensitivity, any... strong smells bothering you?"
"How could I not be bothered? The whole Palace smells like…"
"The best thing you can possibly think of? I always smell the salt baths in Nevivon."
"Yes! Well, not the salt baths, I smell more of a sort of perfumey--" You stop speaking when you catch the knowing smile growing on Julian's face. "What?"
"I've heard of late bloomers, but I never thought I'd see one myself." He seems amused, giving an almost delighted laugh.
"Oh, no, I don't think it's--"
"That's because this is your first heat and your first is always--"
"By the Devil, I do NOT need to be told about the facts of life, Jules!"
"But isn't it only appropriate for a more senior Omega to--"
"I'm not an Omega!"
"You certainly smell like one, whether you realize it or not."
"I do?" You simmer down from your argument fast, suddenly self conscious.
"Yes! It's telling as anything. Well, for me, anyway. Really, Omegas usually can't smell one another, but I'm sort of gifted like that, helps oodles in my field of work--"
"Jules."
"--it's sort of a sweaty smell, but not in a bad way. Not to say that you smell sweaty, though your job as a servant is physically demanding so--"
"JULES!"
Julian quickly shuts up, looking shocked for a moment, before realizing that he's rambling, and looking appropriately embarrassed. "Right, sorry. That said, you should prepare yourself, things tend to escalate rather quickly, and without an Alpha, well…" His blush spreads down below his collar.
"You'll be facing the worst of your heat very soon. Especially the longer you stay in the palace. I recommend finding somewhere to stay off grounds for a few days, at the very least."
“Are you sure it can’t be anything else? Maybe a hormonal imbalance? Some sort of rare sickness?” You ask, though you sound defeated, and unconvinced of yourself.
“I’m afraid it’s a very clear diagnosis, dear.”
You feel your own face grow hot, your stomach in knots. You want to deny it, but the longer you think about it, the more you realize how constraining your clothes feel. How much sense this all seemed to make.
Julian places a hand on your shoulder, and offers you an encouraging smile.
"You'll be fine, pup. Now get going before someone catches wind. I'll write you a doctor's note." He gives your shoulder a squeeze, and sends you off.
You leave in a haze, lost in your thoughts, however fuzzy they are upon leaving the oasis of the library. You almost trip over Melchior and Mercedes, who had been laying right outside of the heavy door.
The two dogs stand and stretch, looking at you expectantly. Melchior sniffs at your hand, and gives a little sneeze, before trotting towards the end of the hall, Mercedes in tow. They stop about halfway down, and look back at you: were they expecting you to follow them?
You suppose it couldn't hurt, though the more logical part of your brain is a bit fried at the moment, you can still hear it weakly pleading with you not to follow them.
You follow the dogs down the hall, and then down another, only stopping when you're led to the staircase leading up to Count Lucio's wing.
"I'm not supposed to go there, n-not unless I'm summoned for a special event." Your throat feels dry and your legs feel weak, you could smell the Count's rut so strongly here.
Despite your objections, Mercedes only needs to nudge you once for you to begin ascending the staircase, holding onto the railing for support as you do.
The dogs don't need to lead you any further, they reclaim their usual haunt at the top of the stairs as you travel further into the Alpha's territory. His smell is so much stronger up here, leaving you feeling like a person possessed as you walk to his door.
The door to his chambers is shut, but you can smell him so strongly, it makes your heart thud heavily in your chest, it makes you feel weak. You tell yourself to knock, but you're stuck, paralyzed by the new wave of heat washing over you.
The door is thrown open and you're pulled into Lucio's chambers with little ceremony. Your back meets the hard wood of the door as it slams shut behind you.
You feel hot breath on your neck, and realize that the Count himself has you caged between himself and the door, inhaling the smell of your heat, face pressed into the offending source at the crook of your neck.
He growls, the sound deep and rattling in his chest, something animalistic that amplifies the growing heat between your legs. Lucio licks a hot stripe from your collar bone to just under your ear, tasting the salt of your skin.
You let out a noise akin to a “yip”, ducking your head submissively. Your face feels so impossibly hot, right up to the tips of your ears. It seems to be the only thing to sing right with your heat, Lucio's musk and touch making you feel drunk.
The Count laughs, grabbing your chin and guiding you to look up at him. You do so without any resistance, pliant to his touch, even leaning into his hand.
"Oh, little Omega." He swoons at you, golden fingers tracing your collarbones just under the neck of your shirt. "How long have you been hiding from me?" He dips his head back down to breathe in your smell, lips teasing the oversensitive skin of your neck.
"I-I didn't kn-know I--" You cut yourself off with a huff, taking a deep breath to attempt to calm yourself, at least enough to answer him properly. "This is my first heat." You whine, hands struggling not to grab at Lucio, throw yourself at him, beg for him to make the heat go away.
You could cry, the arousal between your legs now demanding attention. His attention.
You didn’t even realize that you’re whimpering.
Lucio seems delighted, looking at you with hungry eyes, an almost fond smile on his lips. You think he's the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.
"Ah, my little Omega doesn't have an Alpha to make it all better then, do they?" He coos at you, the cold metal of his prosthetic feeling wonderful against your hot belly as it wanders below the hem of your shirt.
You shake your head, eyes transfixed on Lucio's countenance.
"Tell me, little one. Was it the smell of my rut that brought on your heat?"
His voice is like music, soothing, but sparking goosebumps over your skin.
"Yes, Alpha."
You say it unbidden, but the organic hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head tells you that it was the right answer.
"Oh, sweetness, darling." He sings, dipping your head to the side to kiss your neck openly now. The kisses are wet, and hot, teeth grazing your scent glands. "I could take care of you, knot you, pup you, make you mine." He growls, the words alone enough to ruin your underthings. "Would you like that, Omega?"
Urgency swells in you.
"Please take me! I need it, Alpha, please!" You grasp at his shirt now, the loose fabric bunching in your hands as you cling to him, leaning into him. You do cry now, tears pricking your eyes, making your vision blurry. The thought of not having him makes you physically ache. How have you spent a moment without him? You’re so attuned to him, your instincts pushing you to butt your head under his chin, nosing the hollow of his throat affectionately.
"No need to beg, puppy." He mutters in your ear, pulling you fully against him now, letting you feel his erection against your stomach. "I was ready to take you this morning when I first caught a whiff of you." He says it hoarsely, lips tracing the shell of your ear as he speaks, tongue following the curve before he issues a little nip.
Then he’s pulling you off of him.
"Get on the bed."
You need no further instructions, eager to follow orders. Once again, your instincts take over, Lucio's musk being the thickest on his bed, spare for the actual source. You crawl over the luxurious silk and down, both giddy and satisfied to roll around in Lucio's scent, burying your face in his pillow and inhaling.
You're so lost in your heat-induced euphoria, that you don't notice the dip in the bed until Lucio is hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. You roll onto your back and look up at him with eyes blown wide in lust, squirming as your body reminds you of the slick now soaking through your smallclothes.
"Precious little one." Your Alpha hums, pushing your shirt up to splay his hand over your stomach, admiring you. With a throaty noise, something closer to a whimper than a growl, he leans down, capturing your lips with his own.
You've kissed people before, but it had never been something like this. You can tell that he’s been holding himself back up until this point; he kisses you like he intends to devour you, hungry and passionate.
You're a willing victim, desperate to be satiated, one hand curled in his shirt, the other in his hair.
He's perfectly slotted between your legs, hips aligned with your own, his clothed cock rutting against your heat with each roll of his hips. The dry humping rubs your soaked underwear against your core, prompting a muted whimper against his mouth as the fabric presses against your swollen clit.
You tug on Lucio's hair, earning a grunt, but he parts the kiss willingly, mouth moving from your lips to your ear, then your chin, and down your neck.
"Please, my clothes, I!"
With little preamble, your shirt is pulled up and off of you, and your pants are discarded, leaving you bare, spare for your ruined smalls.
You don't have it in you to be ashamed; you arch beneath him, chest heaving, practically howling when Lucio's hand covers your heat.
"Oh, pet, what a mess you've made." He exhales, his eyes locked between your legs as he grinds the thin fabric against your swollen sex. "It's a bit beneath me, but I simply must clean you up."
Your muddled mind doesn't fully process his intent until your panties are quite literally ripped off of you, and he's licking along your slit, slow and deliberate, catching as much of your honey on his tongue as he can.
You inhale sharply, hand returning to his hair, fingers tangled in the fine strands of platinum. You've never been this intimate with someone, but you suspect that even if you had been, it wouldn't have felt this good. Your thighs quiver as Lucio guides your knees over his shoulders, his mouth still adamant in its work at your core. The only break in his ministrations is for Lucio to kiss the insides of your thighs, before dipping back in, teasing you, pointedly avoiding your clit.
You tug on his hair with a whine, trying to guide him towards where you needed him most, but he growls and pins the offending hand down.
"I will have you behave, Omega." He snarls, prompting you to obediently snap your free hand to your chest, more slick drooling out of you at his show of dominance.
Lucio smirks at this, crawling back up to place a searing kiss on your lips, tongue dipping into your mouth so you can taste your own heat. When he pulls away, you chase his mouth, making him chuckle.
"Now, now. You have to be patient, little one."
He says with a teasing rut of his clothed member against your wetness.
You shudder all over, delighting him as your hips buck without prompting. You needed something inside of you, and you needed it soon. You could feel your lower body engulfed in flames, urgency growing within you as it boils you alive; but your submissive state demands that you comply with your Alpha’s orders.
Lucio lowers his mouth back down to your cunt, hot breath fanning over you, before he turns his head, and sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. You cry out as he breaks the skin and marks you, but his heavy prosthetic holds you in place. It draws blood, but something tells you that had been his intent all along. He greedily licks the blood off of you, long and apologetic laps of his tongue soothing the angry skin, his eyes locked on yours as he does.
With a kiss placed on the fresh wound, Lucio then moves to your clit, finally giving your neglected arousal the attention its been screaming for. The sudden and direct contact makes your back arch off of the bed, heels digging into Lucio’s back, which only seems to encourage him. He hums against you, giving a particularly hard suck to your clit that makes you gasp.
As he alternates between little sucks and licks your clit, the fingers of his flesh hand start to wander along the inside of your unmarred thigh, towards your core.
Two fingers are then sliding into you with ease, your heat providing enough arousal for the digits, and more. The sudden penetration isn’t enough to sate you, but it’s enough to drive you further into your desperate frenzy to be filled. Your hands twist in the sheets as you struggle not to hump Lucio’s face, the evidence of your effort clear from your whimpers and the way your legs begin to shake.
Then your release is hitting you like a runaway cart, blinding you for a moment, giving you a small taste of the satisfaction that you’ve been waiting for. But only a taste. Your afterglow is short-lived and your arousal returns with renewed vigor, making you sob as your walls squeeze around the Count’s fingers, demanding a knot in their place.
“Now now, pup. What did I say about being patient?” He admonishes you, fingers withdrawing from within you, followed by a trail of your juices, only for him to lick them clean. Despite his teasing, you can tell he’s losing his own resolve, his pants barely capable of holding back his erection.
“Please, Lucio.” You whine as he sits back up, guiding your shaky legs to rest over his thighs.
“Please what, darling?” He mocks you, licking his lips hungrily as his hands slide upwards to squeeze your hips.
“Please, knot me.”
That stills him, mirth replaced with those same, hungry eyes that he wore when he first shoved you against his door.
“Turn around, on your hands and knees, then.” He rumbles, clearly done stretching this out any longer.
You move to obey him, rolling onto your belly and propping yourself up, your knees parted and ass in the air, upper body pressed into the silky sheets now ruined by your heat. You feel the mattress shift as he gets off of the bed and hear the rustling of his clothing as he undresses himself. You turn your head to take a peek, prompting a tut from The Count.
“Eyes forward, pup.”
You obey, but not without a grumble, wiggling on the bed impatiently. It feels like an eternity passes before Lucio joins you on the bed again, slotting himself behind you, with his bare cock heavy and hot against your rear. Your desperation returns, and you whine at him, rocking back onto him before his firm, metal grip steadies you at the hip.
Lucio laughs, though it’s without humor; deep and rumbling as he holds you steady, and ruts his cock along the plush cleft of your ass.
“Tell me what you need one more time, let me hear you Omega. What do you need?”
His cock slides between your thighs now, rubbing up against you, covering himself in your slick arousal.
Your head tips back and you let a howling cry pass your lips, struggling to think, let alone form words in your current state.
“I need you! I need your knot, I need it, Alpha, please!!” You scream for him, broken, not a care for who might hear you, only to gasp as he finally spears himself inside of you.
It doesn’t hurt, but you feel the ache of your heat reach its crux as you cum for a second time. You make sweet, satisfied little noises as Lucio begins to grind himself inside of you, enjoying the feeling of being filled with an Alpha’s cock.
He relishes in the feeling of you, being totally sheathed in your warmth, before he slides out, and slams into you once more. He quickly sets a punishing pace, his body more than capable of maintaining the even strokes as his hips collide with the softness of your ass over and over. Lucio lays himself over your back, pressing himself flush against you. He kisses across the backs of your shoulders, before reaching the back of your neck, and grazing his teeth against the patch of skin there.
You beg him, babbling incoherent things as he fucks you, your heat screaming for him to mark you, claim you. Make you his Omega.
“What is it you want, pup?”
He teases you, despite his knot starting to form at the base of his cock, making a lewd sound on each backstroke.
“P-please, mark me!”
Lucio hums, almost amused in your ear as he fucks you, his strokes getting sloppier. “You have no idea what you’re begging me for. Do you really want to bind yourself to me, little one? A man you barely know?” He’s almost mocking you, but when you turn your head to look at him, you can see the crack in his haughty facade.
“I want you, please.” You whine, leaning in to nuzzle his face.
He gives a weak sound, stealing a messy kiss on the lips, before he gives one final harsh thrust forward, locking his knot inside of you, before rearing his head back to catch the scruff of your neck in his maw.
Lucio growls as his teeth sink into you, marking you, claiming you, blood flooding his mouth. You can feel it hot on your skin, but no pain, just bliss as you cum once more, with Lucio’s knot now pumping you full of his seed.
Your body finally enters a state of respite; you know your heat isn’t sated quite yet, but for the moment, you can enjoy the feeling of being full, as Lucio licks the blood off of you.
“Did I hurt you, love?” He dotes over you now, holding you tight against him as he goes to lay on his side, his knot still within you to complete the tie.
“Not at all, Alpha.” You rest your head back against him, prompting Lucio to smother your face with kisses.
The two of you remain like that for a time, Lucio’s cool, metal fingers tracing designs along your hip and stomach. As you relax, he nuzzles and kisses you, his hand gradually sliding down your front to lazily roll your clit between his fingers.
You whine as he begins grinding his steadily building load inside of you, squirming as your heat mounts once more.
As he growls against your ear, you get the impression that you won’t be finished with one another anytime soon.