Chapter Text
The night had grown old by the time Ingilmundr reached the tent that Athelstan was being kept in. Most of the post-battle revelries had died down, though fires still burned, couples still danced, and the screams of those recently taken still filled the air. Ingilmundr ignored it all as he threw back the tents’ flaps.
Athelstan sat at the edge of a table, hands bound in his lap. He was still covered in the blood and grime of battle, and his lip had burst where Ingilmundr had hit him. The king (former king, now) had won their fight on the battlefield before Ingilmundr’s men had dragged him off of the alpha, but Ingilmundr had gotten his licks in. Even covered in dirt, the omega looked gorgeous. Ingilmundr doubted there was any substance in existence that could make Athelstan look ugly. Despite his bonds, he still looked like royalty, down to the last inch.
The omega looked up as he entered, and his gaze steeled. There was no trace of the warmth that had once filled Athelstan’s eyes at the sight of him.
“Leave us,” Ingilmundr ordered, and the men guarding Athelstan left the tent. He scanned the table for weapons and, seeing only a few candles and books, took out his knife and cut Athelstan’s restraints. The omega rubbed the raw skin of his wrists as Ingilmundr drew a chair and sat across from him.
“Is Uhtred still alive?” Athelstan asked.
Ingilmundr paused. He had not expected that to be Athelstan’s first question, though he was not surprised it was. Killing Uhtred was the one thing he’d never been able to convince Athelstan to do, no matter how hard he tried. “He is.”
“What will become of him?”
“He will swear an oath of loyalty to my father,” Ingilmundr said. “His son Osbert will be taken as a ward to ensure he keeps his word. Osbert will be trained by my father personally, to make sure he remembers he’s a Dane.”
Athelstan’s face flickered in the candlelight. “Has your father decided upon my fate?”
“He has.” It had been a hard-fought discussion in his father’s war tent. A thousand calamities had been suggested for the deposed omega, each one more barbaric and cruel than the last, and Anlaf has and never will be described as a merciful man. Ingilmundr had barely been able to sway him to his side.
“I am to be killed, I presume?” Athelstan asked. “Has your father decided how yet? Beheading? Crucifixion? Boiling oil?”
Ingilmundr shook his head. “You are not going to be killed.”
“I am to be passed around the camp, then,” Athelstan’s voice did not waver, but Ingilmundr could see a burst of panic in his eyes.
“The idea was suggested,” Ingilmundr bit the inside of his cheek at the memory. “But I would never allow that to happen to you.”
“Then I shall be kept a prisoner?” Athelstan leaned forward. “Paraded around to humiliate me and discourage rebellion?”
“In a way,” Ingilmundr said, voice low.
“What does that mean?” Athelstan demanded.
Ingilmundr stared him in the eyes. “I am going to mate you. You are going to bear my children and be my queen.”
The silence that followed was long and heavy. Athelstan put a hand on the table as he quickly drew back, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“No,” Athelstan said finally. “No, I will not.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Ingilmundr’s gaze softened.
Athelstan shot to his feet, and Ingilmundr allowed him to retreat to the back of the tent. “Do not do this to me!”
“You have given yourself to me before,” Ingilmundr leaned back in his seat. “Willingly and happily. Many times.”
“I gave myself to a man that does not exist. Who never existed,” Athelstan laughed joylessly. “You cannot possibly think that there is anything left between us now.”
“I am still the alpha you knew,” Ingilmundr stood. “I am still the alpha you took into your nest, who comforted you through your heats. You simply see me as I am now.”
“You are a pagan,” Athelstan hissed. “A pagan and a deceiver and a traitor. You have never spoken a true word in your life.”
“I am speaking truly now,” Ingilmundr said as he walked to the omega.
“You are not,” Athelstan shook his head. “You have never cared about me. Even now you are just carrying out your father’s orders.”
“This was not my father’s plan,” Ingilmundr said. “It was mine. He simply agreed.” For once, he was telling Athelstan the truth. All of his father’s plans for the omega, fashioned to enforce the greatest humiliation and pain on him, had made Ingilmundr’s stomach roll. Anlaf was not gracious in victory.
Only Ingilmundr’s sharp tongue had saved Athelstan from a worse fate. He’d argued that mating a pagan would be humiliation enough, that mixing their bloodline with Alfred’s would grant them political legitimacy, that he deserved a reward for bringing their plan to fruition. His fondness and attachment went unspoken, but Ingilmundr knew it’d been noticed. It was a miracle that his father had agreed.
“Then kill me,” Athelstan growled. “If you are being allowed to follow your own devices, kill me. I would rather be dead than be your omega. That is a preferable fate.”
“That is not true,” Ingilmundr took Athelstan’s face in his hands. He began to let his scent of leather and cedarwood loose in the air, making sure to release calming pheromones. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me, that your heart is truly as dead to me as you suggest. Look me in the eyes and say it.”
Athelstan met his gaze. The air hung heavy between them as the omega breathed hard, before looking away.
“We are destined to be together,” Ingilmundr said as he caressed Athelstan’s cheek. “I knew it the second I saw you, and you did too. Do not deny it.”
“You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me!” Athelstan yelled. “You have taken everything from me. Everything!”
“And you let me,” Ingilmundr mused. “How many times did you choose me over your people? How many times did you let yourself be manipulated?”
“I was blinded,” Athelstan spat. “But I see who you are now. I see that you are the snake who tempted Eve. You are poison.”
“Perhaps,” Ingilmundr leaned in to whisper into Athelstan’s ear. “And yet you still want me.”
Athelstan shivered as he retreated from Ingilmundr’s touch, but his scent sweetened, betraying him. It was not easy, to spurn an alpha once you’d accepted them into your nest, a fact Ingilmundr was banking on. Athelstan may have been able to fight him on the battlefield, but that did not mean that his instincts had caught up with his mind. Ingilmundr released more of his scent, careful to make it as familiar as possible.
“If you have ever cared for me, you will kill me,” Athelstan pleaded. “Please, Ingilmundr. Let me die my own man.”
“Never,” Ingilmundr took his hand in his. “Just weeks ago you told me that in another life, you would want my teeth in your neck. This is that other life. Is this fate truly such a horrid one?”
“That may have well been a lifetime ago,” Athelstan said bitterly, but he did not draw back his hand.
“Are my eyes different than those you loved so much?” Ingilmundr pulled Aethelstan closer, until he could ensnare his waist with his arm. “Is my face different than the man’s you longed for? Is my touch any less soft than the alpha’s from whom you begged for a knot, time and time again?”
“You are poison,” Athelstan repeated, but Ingilmundr could see his resolve breaking, as it so often did for him. “You were sent by the Devil to ruin me.”
“I am yours,” Ingilmundr pressed on. “I am all you have, now. I am your alpha.”
He ran his fingers through Athelstan’s curls, applying pressure on the spots he knew Athelstan liked. He slipped his other hand under Athelstan’s tunic, touch soft as it travelled across Athelstan’s back. He began to release his scent even more steadily, adding in his desire. Athelstan began to match it with his own, and the tent clouded with cedarwood and oranges and leather and tree sap.
Ingilmundr brought Athelstan’s head to his shoulder as he embraced the omega. “I am your alpha. You know it to be true. You accepted it long ago.”
Athelstan hugged him back, clinging onto his shoulders like a man drowning, and that was when Ingilmundr knew he had him. He brought his lips to Athelstan’s neck, light at first, but harsher when Athelstan tilted his head to accept him. Athelstan gasped as Ingilmundr sucked his mark into his throat, fingers grasping onto Ingilmundr’s hair.
Ingilmundr pushed him against the table, lifting him by the legs until he was seated on the sanded hazelwood. Athelstan did not wrap his legs around his waist, as Ingilmundr hoped he would. Instead the omega yanked Ingilmundr’s head away. The two paused, faces close together, as they panted in near sync. Ingilmundr could see a storm raging behind Athelstan’s eyes, and the omega’s scent changed as rotten distress mixed with sickly-sweet arousal.
Ingilmundr had no desire to hold Athelstan down and force him. The omega’s instincts would turn on him if he did that, and then Ingilmundr would have neither Athelstan’s mind nor his body. But he had to leave this tent with Ingilmundr’s bite on his throat, or Anlaf would think Ingilmundr couldn’t control him and he’d lose the omega to a worse machination. He could not let the momentum stall. If Athelstan had time to think, he would turn away, and Ingilmundr’s plan would fall to ruin.
He pulled Athelstan harshly against him by the waist and ground into him. Athelstan’s mouth dropped open in a gasp, and Ingilmundr swallowed it with his lips. Athelstan froze against him, and Ingilmundr snaked a hand into Athelstan’s hair, trying to get the omega to relax. He intensified his scent, hitting Athelstan with enough unbridled lust to make the omega’s head spin. Come on, Athelstan. Come to me.
Athelstan’s scent bloomed in response, and the omega softened against him. Ingilmundr ground into him again, and Athelstan’s legs flew around his waist, pulling them together. Athelstan’s hands tightened in his hair as Ingilmundr deepened the kiss by pressing his tongue into Athelstan’s mouth. The omega opened easily for him, and when Ingilmundr opened his eyes he saw that the omega’s were closed.
He kept the omega there for a while, grinding against him softly as he controlled Athelstan’s mouth with his tongue. He kept his movements familiar. Athelstan always took some time to get going, and Ingilmundr made sure to only touch him where he was sure Athelstan liked.
When Athelstan broke away for breath, Ingilmundr scanned the room, looking for a bed. It would be less risky to take the omega here while he was sure he had him, but Ingilmundr would not make Athelstan his mate on a table. His omega deserved better than that.
He spotted one to the left, and Athelstan made a confused noise when Ingilmundr snared his arms under Athelstan’s legs and lifted him into the air. It was an awkward hold, and Ingilmundr had to walk with deliberate movements to avoid tripping or dropping the omega. But he did not want to break their contact, for fear of Athelstan deciding to run if he put his feet back on the ground.
It was a short distance, and it was not long before Ingilmundr was kneeling above Athelstan on the mattress while pressing Athelstan into the furs. He would have preferred to use Athelstan’s nest, but that was miles away in Winchester. The bed would have to do.
Athelstan looked up at him as Ingilmundr began to unbutton his own shirt, revealing the skin of his chest to the omega’s eyes. He threw the blood-soaked fabric across the room before reaching for Athelstan’s. The omega’s breath hitched, and Ingilmundr leaned down to kiss him again, not wanting to leave Athelstan alone with his thoughts for a second.
He fumbled with the omega’s shirt, but he managed to get it off. He undid Athelstan’s belt the same way, but he had to break away from his lips to pull down the omega’s trousers and undergarments. He could not get out of his own clothes fast enough, and he could not help himself from admiring Athelstan’s body once he was done. He had seen Athelstan naked a hundred times, and each felt like the first as he drank in the omega’s perfection. The gods smiled on him, truly. He’d known it ever since the first time he’d touched Athelstan and had been received enthusiastically.
Athelstan was not as enthusiastic as he had been, before, but he wrapped his arms around Ingilmundr’s neck when the alpha kissed him again, and that would be enough for now. Ingilmundr would have plenty of time to reinvigorate the omega’s love for him later. For now, Ingilmundr needed to focus on getting him mated. The rest would follow.
He reached between Athelstan’s legs, and was unsurprised to find that Athelstan was not wet enough to take him without discomfort. Ingilmundr moved to kiss the column of Athelstan’s neck as he moved his fingers in small circles on Athelstan’s clit, enjoying the sharp breaths the action pulled from the omega’s throat. It was not long before he was able to slip a finger into the omega’s heat, and then another. Athelstan clung to him as the sweet scent of his slick began to dominate the air, encouraging Ingilmundr to pump his fingers in and out of him faster.
If there was one thing Ingilmundr knew, it was how to please Athelstan. He’d made it an art form, in order to make sure the omega always wanted him in his bed. It had solidified his place in Athelstan’s court as his lover, sinfully close but too satiating to spurn. It was an added bonus that the omega was always easiest to guide when they were conversing on the pillows afterwards.
Ingilmundr knew he had not been Athelstan’s first alpha. That honour went to some nobody named Cynlaef who he’d bumbled around with in Rumcofa. Ingilmundr had never met this Cynlaef, but he had met his wife, Athelstan’s cousin Aelfwynn. She was a pretty but idiotic girl, and a massive downgrade from Athelstan in every degree, but Ingilmundr supposed that Cynlaef had taken what he could get. He could not complain. It had helped him, that Ingilmundr had not been his first, even if it made jealousy boil in his belly. There was a benefit in having an alpha Athelstan could compare him to, so he could see that Ingilmundr was better.
It did not take long for Athelstan’s breaths to become hurried, accompanied by a shaking in his left leg that always came when Athelstan was close to relief. Ingilmundr drew his hand away, making the omega whine. He usually brought at least one orgasm out of Athelstan before entering him, but he couldn’t risk it this time, not when he needed the omega aroused. The last thing he wanted was for Athelstan’s mind to clear.
Athelstan was not empty for long. Ingilmundr pushed into him, and Athelstan’s flew to Ingilmundr’s hair, pulling so tightly Ingilmundr swore he’d take some of it with him. He set a fast pace, angling for the spot that always made Athelstan fall apart. Athelstan keened, and he knew he’d found it.
Ingilmundr gripped Athelstan’s hips hard to ground himself, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of Athelstan wrapped around him. Gods, how he’d missed this. He swore Athelstan was made for him, and before he could think, words were tumbling from his mouth. “I love you.”
Athelstan had said it a million times, but Ingilmundr had never said them back. Not because they weren’t true, but because that would be the same as telling Athelstan that their relationship was what he thought it was, and that was the one lie Ingilmundr had never been able to get himself to say. But the mask was off now, and the confession rolled off of Ingilmundr’s lips again and again as he sucked marks into Athelstan’s neck, higher than he’d ever dared to before, letting the whole world know who the omega’s alpha was. The omega would bear his mark permanently, soon, and the thought brought a smile to Ingilmundr’s lips.
Athelstan did not say the words back, and when Ingilmundr looked at his face again there were tears streaking his cheeks. Ingilmundr wiped them away as he lifted Athelstan’s waist slightly to penetrate him deeper, and while the omega moaned in pleasure, it did not stop new tears from forming in his eyes. Ingilmundr frowned, and returned to kissing Athelstan’s neck so he did not have to see them.
His knot formed, slowly but surely, and Athelstan’s leg began to shake again. Ingilmundr kissed him, and the omega kissed him back hungrily, almost as if he was attacking him. Ingilmundr had to move one hand to Athelstan’s jaw to keep him from devouring him, and when his knot pressed fully against Athelstan’s opening, he was the one who had to break away for air.
“I hate you,” Athelstan panted as he tightened his grip on Ingilmundr’s hair, tears still running down his cheeks. “I hate you!”
Ingilmundr pushed his knot inside him, and Athelstan locked him in with a cry. Ingilmundr collapsed on the omega as he released inside him, feeling Athelstan tremble beneath him from the sensation, and while he wanted nothing more than to rest and hold his omega, he was not done. Not yet. By the time Athelstan noticed his head moving towards his shoulder, it was too late.
Ingilmundr clamped his teeth into Athelstan’s mating gland, and the omega screamed.
The world exploded into colour. Athelstan’s scent filled Ingilmundr’s lungs, drowning him in oranges and sap. He could feel every minute detail of the omega’s emotions as if they were his own. The pleasure, the pain, the desire, the sadness, the love, the confusion. It was overwhelming, and Ingilmundr tightened his grip on Athelstan’s neck as he rode the bond out.
When he regained enough mental fortitude to unclasp his teeth from Athelstan’s shoulder, he was met with the sight of Athelstan shaking, eyes clamped-shut and mouth open in a silent scream. Mating bites were more intense for omegas, Ingilmundr knew. Alphas pumped venom into them, and their bodies changed to accept it. He could already detect the change in Athelstan’s scent as his leather and cedarwood, though faint, began to mix with the omega’s natural scent, marking Athelstan as his. Ingilmundr consumed the quickly-forming blood of the mark and ran his fingers comfortingly through the omega’s curls as he waited for Athelstan to come back to him.
He saw his future then, vividly. He had never allowed himself to envision a life with Athelstan. It was too dangerous, when his actions were leading the king towards an almost certain death. He could not let himself think of anything that might sway him from his mission. But the vision unfolded easily for him now. Athelstan, cuddled in a pile with two pups in their family nest while Ingilmundr held a third. A crown framed the omega’s head, not the heavy golden one of his kingship, but rather the silver tiara of a queen. Athelstan smiled at him, face bright, as he extended his arms to Ingilmundr in invitation. For the first time in their relationship, Ingilmundr imagined them happy. He would make it so, he swore. He had been able to make Athelstan do almost anything. He could make him love him fully once again.
Athelstan was still shaking underneath him, but Ingilmundr heard him sniffling, and saw that the omega had come down from the mating high. Ingilmundr tried to kiss the tears from his cheeks, but Athelstan turned away from him as much as his knot would allow. He ended up on his side, facing away from the alpha. Ingilmundr moved with him to alleviate the pressure the movement put on him, and he wrapped his arms around his mate’s hips as the omega sobbed. He kissed the mating bite to comfort him, lapping up the new pinpricks of blood that had formed there.
Athelstan just sobbed harder.