Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Will couldn’t stop crying from the pleasure, uncontrollable, lewd moans spilling from his lips along with a string of desperate curses. The sharp sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls, filling the room

“You’re so fucking tight—you feel so good for me. Such a good boy.”

Will whimpered at the praise, clenching around the alpha, who groaned loudly in response. They were lucky the prince’s chambers were at the end of the hallway. Mike gripped his waist so tightly that bruises were already forming beneath his fingers.

Mike pounded into Will with a brutal, relentless rhythm, leaving Will certain he would be limping the next day. Not that he minded; he loved the thrill of pretending nothing had happened the next morning. It was intoxicating.

He gasped as a palm between his shoulder blades shoved him down into the mattress. His fingers dug into the sheets, sweat plastering the fabric to his forehead. And yes, it felt so good, so overwhelming that his mind went blank, his eyes rolling back.

But he wanted more. More of something he would never quite reach. The thirst was unquenchable, even as his slick coated thighs trembled and his moans were muffled by the pillow. He angled his head up, his breathing coming in ragged gasps.

Mike’s chapped lips were sucking and pulling at his shoulder, and the omega squirmed, nerves going haywire as he inhaled when the alpha’s teeth grazed his pulse point. He was so close, so close to getting what he wanted, that it was almost enough to push him over the edge.

A bite.

He whined when the teeth retreated without breaching the skin. Now he was crying, not only from pleasure but from disappointment. His inner wolf howled, the fog of heat jumbling any sense when he was like this. There was only need, want.

But Mike couldn’t give him that last thing he craved. Because a bite mark meant something.

And this—him and Prince Michael—meant nothing beyond fucking.

The end of his heat meant back to boring classes for Prince William.

The first thing he noticed as he entered the classroom was someone sitting on his desk. The culprit was his lovely sister, Princess Jane. She was an alpha, and though she might look serious at first glance, with her doe chestnut eyes always alert and her strong smell of brown sugar, she was the sweetest person Will knew. Will adored her, even when she was stealing his homework.

“Hey,” he said, standing in front of the desk.

Jane looked up, startled, her pen pausing mid-air. She gave him a sheepish smile, her cheeks tinged with a slight pink blush. “Sorry, I forgot mine.”

Will just laughed, sitting down in his place as Jane scooted to hers. “It’s okay. If you’re quick, you might finish copying them.”

She nodded, starting to scribble down at a fast pace, her tongue poked out in concentration. Will just laid his head on the palm of his hand, watching her with a fond smile.

“Clock’s ticking. Better hurry before Professor Clark catches you.”

She didn’t even look up. “I am hurrying.”

Then, without warning: “How was your heat?”

Will blushed at the bluntness of the question. Jane had always been straightforward, never one to beat around the bush.

He took a moment to answer. “Painful. As usual,” he lied. But was it a lie? It had been painful, but not for the usual reasons omegas struggled with. He had been fucked silly by the man of his dreams… The man of his dreams who only saw him as a friend. As his best friend.

“You smell,” Jane leaned closer to sniff around him and scrunched her nose. “Unsatisfied.”

Were it anyone else, Will might have been offended or embarrassed. But this was Jane. She had seen him at his best and his worst, and there was nothing he could hide from her. This was Princess Jane, throne heir and his best friend. They had been through everything together, and there was a level of comfort and trust between them that no one else could match.

This secret, however, was the only exception.

“Thanks for the concern,” he playfully shoved her nose away from his neck. “But I’m just fine, thank you very much.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “I don’t get it,” she said, voice too casual. “Why not just use one of the mistresses? It’d be easier.”

Will groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Please.” His ears were on fire. “Can we not talk about this?”

Jane rolled her eyes, unfazed by his embarrassment. “Oh, come on. You’re the prince, Will. If you wanted to get knotted, you could have your pick of the court. There are plenty of Alphas who’d be more than happy to—”

“Jane,” Will hissed, cutting her off. He glanced around the empty classroom, even though they were alone. “I don’t want to fuck a random person, okay? That’s the whole point.” And he was already getting knotted, it was a bite mark what he desired

She blinked at him, genuinely confused. “But why? It’s not like you’d have to see them again if you didn’t want to. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Will snapped, his voice dropping to a frustrated whisper. “Just a way to scratch an itch? Just a way to pretend I don’t—”He stopped himself, pressing his lips together. He could feel his face burning, his fingers digging into his knees. “You’re an alpha, it’s different.”

Jane opened her mouth to argue, but the classroom door creaked open. Both of them shut up as Mr. Clarke stepped inside, and suddenly, geopolitics had never sounded so fascinating to Will.

Nineteen years ago, the Kingdom of Hawkins was blessed with not one, but two heirs: Princess Jane, a beacon of hope and power, and her twin brother, Prince William, or Will, as he was known. While Jane was celebrated for her extraordinary magical abilities—the power to move things with her mind and enter others’ minds and manipulate them—Will’s magic was... underwhelming. The best he could manage was a small spark from his pinky finger.

But Will didn’t mind being overlooked. After all, Jonathan, their older brother and the actual firstborn, had it worse. Born without a drop of magic and presenting as an omega, Jonathan was all but forgotten by the people, who had begged for another child. When Will and Jane were born, the kingdom rejoiced. Jane, a strong, magical alpha, was Hawkins’s next queen.

Will, an omega, was seen as a minor disappointment—how could an omega lead? But the joy of Jane’s birth overshadowed any sadness.

Will was content with his life, if not more than content. His responsibilities were minimal; attending classes and little else. The rest of his days were spent wandering the castle grounds, sketching in his notebook, or occasionally sneaking down to visit the people. Though with the increasing tension with the neighboring kingdom of Eldoria, those outings became rare.

Jane was always busy, either training or in meetings, and Jonathan, though a brilliant swordsman, was often lost in his own world, preferring the company of his blade to that of people.

So yes, Will had a happy life, even if it was lonely and boring. At least, it was lonely until six years ago.

Six years ago, the King and Queen of Eldoria visited Hawkins in a show of diplomacy. That was where Will first met Prince Michael. From the moment they were introduced, there was an instant connection. Michael was charming, handsome, and funny, and unlike the stuffy nobles Will was used to, genuinely interested in him. Over the years, Michael’s visits became frequent, and he’d spend weeks at a time with Will and Jane. Though Jane was often busy with her duties, Will and Michael became inseparable. They’d spend hours talking, laughing, and exploring the castle together.

But as Will grew older, his feelings for Michael—Mike—deepened. By the time he was fifteen, he realized he was in love with the Eldorian alpha. It was a secret he kept close to his heart, a quiet ache that grew with every visit.

Then, on Will’s eighteenth birthday, everything changed.

They were in the castle gardens, Mike teasing him like always. But this time, Mike leaned in and kissed him. One thing led to another, and suddenly, they were in Will’s bed.

Since then, they’d been meeting up whenever they could. They didn’t talk about it afterward, and they didn’t put a label on what they had. They just enjoyed each other’s company and kept it casual. Mike would sneak into Hawkins when he could, and they’d spend time together, often during Will’s heats or the alpha’s ruts. They had sex frequently, but they also talked and spent time together.

They were best friends, even if their kingdoms were currently in tension. Nothing could ever change that. Even if he had to keep telling his sister that he was an innocent virgin.

Will knew he could never have Michael completely to himself. He knew that someday Mike would marry another omega, and that he’d be expected to marry an alpha. But until then, Will was determined to make the most of the time they had together. Even if it was just for physical pleasure, Will could endure the pain, the tears, and the longing if it meant he could still have Mike in his life.

​Which was exactly how he found himself here, just a week after his heat.

​He was sprawled across the tangled sheets, his mind fraying as Mike drove him into the mattress. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gone at it; his head was light, his vision swimming with every heavy, wet thud of Mike’s groin against his ass.

​“Oh! Mike... Mike, please,”

​Will’s voice broke into a high, pathetic keen. His arms were spread wide, his fingers digging into the mattress, trying to hold on as Mike’s hands clamped onto his hip bones, holding him steady for the brutal pace.

​Mike had shown up without a word of warning. Usually, they exchanged letters or used Dustin (a palace guard their own age; sufficiently blackmailed to look the other way) to coordinate, but tonight Mike had just appeared in his room, looking frustrated.

​(“Mike? What are you—how are you here?” Will had stammered, clutching his book to his chest as the alpha slipped through the balcony doors.

​Mike was already ripping at the buttons of his doublet, his gaze raking over Will’s silk pajamas with a hunger that made Will’s knees go weak.

​“Don’t talk,” Mike had groaned, crowding him into the bedposts. “Just let me fuck you, Will. Please.”

​And Will, helpless to his own heart, had pulled him down into a kiss.)

Mike hooked Will’s legs over his shoulders, opening him up completely. Will gasped; there was nowhere for him to hide. Mike was looming over him, his beautiful face flushed dark with heat and his eyes blown out, fixed on Will with a predatory focus that made Will’s stomach flip.

Will’s lips parted, his mouth hanging open as his eyes fell half-lidded. His body kept jouncing on the bed, receiving every heavy thrust from the alpha. Mike was thick and pulsating inside him, filling him so completely that there wasn’t a single inch of space left

“Fuck, Will,” Mike groaned, his voice a raw, jagged mess. Their smells mixed together, mandarins and forest wood, so sweet and addicting that it made Will’s head swim. Mike lunged forward, his mouth crashing onto Will’s in a frantic, bruising kiss.

The alpha’s tongue swept inside, slick with spit as it tangled with Will’s in a messy dance that matched the fast pace of his hips. Mike’s teeth grazed Will’s lower lip, tugging at the sensitive skin until Will let out a muffled whimper into his mouth. It was filthy and gross. So good.

​Will’s heels dug into Mike’s shoulders, his back arching off the bed as Mike hit his sweet spot over and over. “Mike—please—too much—”

​“It’s not,” Mike rasped against his lips, breaking the kiss just to bite down on Will’s shoulder, his teeth sinking in just enough to hurt. “I need you to feel every bit of this.”

The friction was overwhelming, a white-hot spark at the base of his spine that was rapidly expanding. He felt his internal muscles begin to twitch and spasm around Mike’s length, the tight, rhythmic clenching pulling another guttural groan from the alpha’s throat. Mike’s pace became frantic, his hips snapping so fast that it had the bed frame groaning against the stone wall.

​“I’m—I’m going to—” Will choked out, his eyes rolling back as his body finally gave out.

​His climax hit with the force of a tidal wave, his vision fracturing into shards of light. He let out a strangled cry, his legs shaking violently against Mike’s shoulders as he came hard, the heat of it coating their stomachs.

​The feeling of Will’s walls milking him was the final straw for Mike. He let out a low, animalistic roar, his body snapping taut. He lunged forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spent himself inside Will. His entire frame locked up, muscles corded and trembling with the force of his release. He stayed buried deep, his breath coming in ragged, painful-sounding gasps as he collapsed forward, pinning Will into the mattress with his full weight.

The silence in the room felt heavy, thick with the cooling scent of sweat and the fading tang of mandarins. Mike didn’t pull away immediately. He stayed anchored inside Will, his chest heaving against Will’s as they both tried to find their breath.

​Slowly, Mike shifted. He eased his weight off Will’s chest, propping himself up on one arm while the other stayed tangled in the sheets. His face was still flushed a dark red, his eyes slowly losing that wild, possessive glint and softening into something more fragile.

​He reached out, his hand trembling as he ran a thumb over Will’s swollen lower lip. Then, his touch drifted upward, his fingers ghosting over Will’s cheek before threading through his sweat-damp bangs. He brushed the hair back carefully, over and over, comforting the Omega.

​“Hey,” Mike whispered,

​Will swallowed hard, his throat dry. He looked up at Mike, searching the alpha’s face. Usually, there was a smirk or a playful comment after they finished, but tonight Mike looked frustrated, frustrated and sad.

Will’s omega let out a soft whine at the sight. He wanted to comfort Mike, even if he wasn’t truly his alpha. His wolf had claimed him as his own long ago.

​“You’re shaking, Mike,” Will said softly, reaching up to catch Mike’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

​Mike’s hand stilled in Will’s hair. He let out a long, jagged breath and finally pulled out of Will, the sudden emptiness making the omega moan. Mike rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark velvet of the bed’s canopy. He looked smaller suddenly, stripped of the alpha bravado he’d used to tear into Will minutes before.

​Will shifted onto his side, propping his head up on his hand so he could watch him. “Mike. Talk to me.”

​“It’s the border,” Mike finally said, his voice flat. He didn’t look at Will, and Will missed those dark, puppy-dog eyes more than anything. “My father called a closed session of the War Council yesterday.”

​He turned his head, his dark eyes finally meeting Will’s. The fear in them was stark.

​“They are going to declare war on Hawkins.”

​The words hung in the air, heavy. War on Hawkins. Will felt the blood drain from his face, a cold numbness spreading from his chest to his fingertips. He thought of Jane, training with her guards; he thought of Jonathan, who had never wanted to hold a sword for anything other than practice. He thought of the kingdom he snuck out to visit, the people who had no idea their lives were about to be shattered.

He thought of Mike. Oh, Mike.

​“When?” Will whispered, his voice barely audible.

​“Soon. A month? Maybe weeks,” Mike said, his grip on Will’s hand tightening until it was painful. “They were looking at the maps, Will. Points of entry, supply lines... they were talking about Hawkins like it was just a piece of meat to be carved up. I sat there and listened to them describe how they would burn the southern gates. Your gates.”

​Mike’s eyes welled up, a single tear escaping and disappearing into his hair. “I couldn’t stay in that room. I felt like I was suffocating. I kept thinking about you in your bed, or in your classes, or in your studio, not knowing that my people, my family, are planning to destroy everything you love.”

​He rolled back onto his side, facing Will, and buried his face in the crook of Will’s neck, breathing him in with a desperate, shaky inhale.

​“I don’t want to be their weapon, Will,” he choked out against the Omega’s skin. “But I don’t know how to stop it. If the crowns go to war, I’m the crown prince of Eldoria. I’ll be expected to lead the charge. How am I supposed to lead an army against you?”

​​It was too much—so much, so sudden, like being plummeted into ice water. Will lay there, his heart hammering against his ribs, fighting the urge to panic.

​He knew Mike was right. Unlike Hawkins, other kingdoms didn’t take magic so seriously; Eldoria, specifically, had always focused on the cold, hard efficiency of steel, they had a huge weapon industry. Mike was a non-magical, just like his parents, but the Eldorians were armed to the teeth, their technology and soldier numbers unmatched.

​And Hawkins had... Jane. A nineteen year old girl.

​Will’s hand came up, tentatively stroking the back of Mike’s head, his fingers tangling in the thick curls. “Jane won’t let it happen,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Mike or himself. “She’s the strongest fighter there’s ever been, and her magic is enough to hold a whole front by itself.”

​“That’s exactly what they’re counting on,” Mike muffled into his skin, his voice vibrating through Will’s collarbone. "They aren't planning a fair fight, Will. They’re developing ways to neutralize magic. They’ve been working on it for years in secret. My father isn’t stupid; he knows what Jane can do. He wouldn’t declare war unless he thought he could win.”

​Will felt a surge of nausea. What had Jane done to deserve this? She had been born with a special gift, and now she would be forced to give her life for a kingdom. She would stand on a battlefield against the man currently trembling in his arms—his two favorite people in the world, forced to destroy each other.

​“They’ll kill her, Will,” Mike whispered, his voice cracking. “Or she’ll kill me. Either way, I lose you.”

​Will tightened his hold on Mike, pulling the Alpha’s heavy body closer until there wasn’t a breath of air between them. The marks Mike had left on his waist and shoulders felt like they were burning, brandings of a loyalty that was about to become a crime. This couldn’t be real. Why?

​“We can’t just let it happen,” Will blurted out, his voice trembling but gaining a desperate edge. “If you know this, Mike... if you’re telling me... then we have time. We can warn her. We can find a way to stop the Council before they march.”

​Mike pulled back just enough to look at Will, his eyes red-rimmed and hollow. “How? If I’m caught giving you information, its treason. If you tell Jane, she has to tell the King. The moment your father hears Eldoria is preparing for a strike, he’ll launch a preemptive one of his own. The war starts the second the secret is out, Will. Either way, the blood is on our hands.”

​Will looked at him, the reality of the trap closing in. They were just two young princes who had made the mistake to know each other. He reached up, cupping Mike's face, his thumb catching a stray tear.

​“Then don’t go back,” Will whispered, the thought appearing like a flash of lightning. “Stay. Or let’s run. We could go to the neutral territories, past the forest—”

​“I’m a Prince, Will,” Mike interrupted sharply. “And so are you. You know we don’t have that luxury.”

​He was right. They didn’t.

Either way, I lose you.

Those words haunted Will for the next two weeks. Believe it or not, after that heavy conversation in Will’s bed, they had ended up fucking again. It felt like a fever dream now, a blur of friction and desperation, but he remembered the heat of it vividly. He remembered riding Mike’s cock, his breath hitching as he gave little, frantic bounces while Mike thrust upward, his large hands bruising and shaping Will’s ass every other second to pull him down harder.

​Mike was a sex god, or something close to it, because it shouldn’t have been physically possible for it to feel that good. Under the desk, Will looked down at his clothed crotch and shifted his legs, trying to hide the tell-tale ridge of an erection that was forming just from the memory.

​I lose you. As in, I lose you and I can’t have that because—

​​Will stopped himself. He didn’t want to finish that sentence. He often struggled with the Alpha’s choice of words, but honestly, the words weren’t even the craziest part. They had been fucking for over a year, a secret held together by shadows and hushed moans, so why was he feeling giddy over a few somber words now?

​He knew he shouldn’t. War was looming, dark and so certain, yet here he was with his cock twitching just thinking about Mike. It was fucking desperate. It was embarrassing.

​Will pressed a palm against his face, his fingers digging into his hairline as if he could physically push the memories back into his skull. His skin felt several degrees too hot. Beside him, the scratching of Jane’s quill against parchment was an agonizing reminder of reality.

​She was focused, doing her work, while Will was drowning in the ghost of Mike’s touch. He hadn't told her about what Mike had confessed and the guilt was starting to feel like a physical weight in his stomach. He felt like a traitor, a liar, but he couldn't betray Mike. Not yet.

​They were set to meet in three days. That was the plan. In seventy-two hours, Dustin would look the other way, the balcony doors would creak open, and Will would finally lay out his ideas to stop the madness before the first arrow was fired. But three days felt like an eternity when his body was still humming with the memory of the week before.

​He closed his eyes for a second, the boring drone of Mr. Clarke’s voice fading into the background. Instead, he heard the low, wet sound of Mike’s breathing. He could almost feel the way Mike’s hands had gripped his thighs, bruisingly tight, as he’d urged Will to move for him. God, he was pathetic.

​He shifted again, his breeches feeling far too tight. He tried to focus on his own parchment, but the ink just looked like Mike’s dark curls. He wondered if Mike was doing the same thing right now—if he was sitting in some stuffy Eldorian strategy meeting, staring at a map of Hawkins and thinking about the way Will’s back arched when he hit the right spot.

​​“Will?” Jane whispered, making him bolt upright. She leaned in, her brow furrowed with concern. “You’re flushed bright red. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”

“I—I just need some air,” Will managed, his voice cracking.

​He didn’t wait for her to respond or for Mr. Clarke to grant him leave. He pushed back his chair with a jarring scrape that echoed through the silent room and practically ran.

He didn’t make it to a stall. He slumped against the heavy door, his breath coming out in hitches as he fumbled with his belt, throwing it to the ground with a metallic clink.

​The moment his palm closed around his length, he let out a choked, pathetic whimper.

​He began to pump his hand, his grip bruisingly tight, mimicking the way Mike would take charge when he was impatient. With his other hand, he reached up, his fingers digging claw-like into the junction where his neck met his shoulder. He pressed his thumb hard into the sensitive skin; right where a mating mark should have been. It was empty, unbranded, but Will closed his eyes and pretended it was Mike’s teeth, Mike’s teeth claiming him like he had done with his body a hundred times under the sheets.

​“Mike,” he gasped, the name breaking on a sob. “Please, Mike...”

​The friction was a temporary mercy, but it wasn’t enough. He was so desperate to feel full, to feel the grounding weight of the Alpha, that he began to move. His knees buckled as he turned, pressing his back against the door and sliding down until he could align himself with the large, cold brass doorknob.

​He didn’t care how it looked. He didn’t care that he was a prince of the realm debasing himself in a washroom. He leaned back, rubbing the crack of his ass against the hard metal, his hips rolling in a rhythmic, frantic search for friction. He imagined the cold brass was the base of Mike’s cock, imagining the blunt force of the Alpha’s entry that always made his vision go white.

Will’s pace became frantic, his hips jerking upward as he chased the peak, his thumb still pressing so hard into his neck it would surely leave a bruise.

​When the release finally hit, it was violent. Will’s back arched sharply against the door, a muffled, broken cry dying in his throat as he came. The heat pooled in his hand and slicked his thighs, leaving him spent and trembling. He stayed there for a long time afterward, his forehead resting against his knees, his body shaking with the aftershocks of a lonely, desperate climax.

​He was nothing more than a little filthy perv.

The next time they fucked, it was a little softer, but no less desperate.

Mike’s chest was a solid heat against Will’s back, his heartbeat thudding rhythmically against Will’s shoulder blades. He had one heavy leg hooked over Will’s hip, pinning him in place, while his hands, those large, restless hands, reached around to find Will’s chest.

Will let out a shaky, high-pitched moan as Mike’s calloused thumbs caught his nipples, rolling the sensitive buds with a firm, practiced pressure. The friction sent sparks straight to his dick, which was already slick and aching as Mike pounded into him from behind.

The slams were long, focused more on being deep than fast. Will felt like he was stretching at the seams, his hole pulled open as wide as possible, greedily sucking Mike back in with every long, dragging retreat.

​Mike let out a low, vibrating growl into the crook of Will's neck, his teeth grazing that same spot Will had tried to bruise in the washroom.

​“God, Will,” Mike wheezed, his voice a buzzy, distorted mess of sound. Will’s toes curled into the silk sheets as the Alpha’s mouth found his, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

​When Mike kissed—at least when he kissed Will—he was always desperate. He kissed as if he were trying to breathe for him, to suck the very soul out of his body. His tongue swept deep into Will’s mouth, their breaths tangling together until they were indistinguishable. Will let him use his mouth however he pleased; he loved the weight of it, loved the surrender of following Mike’s lead.

​Between the wet, sliding sounds of their lips meeting, Mike began to ramble, a stream of broken words vibrating against Will’s sensitive mouth.

​“I missed you so much it felt like I was dying,” Mike groaned, his pace picking up, his hips snapping forward in small fast thrusts. Will gasped, his head thumping back against the mattress as the bedframe groaned under the force of it.

​“I keep thinking about the war. I’m going to miss your touch so fucking much when I’m out there, Will. I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep without—”

​“Don’t,” Will interrupted, his voice breaking as he reached back to tangle his fingers in Mike’s dark curls, forcing their lips back together. “Don’t talk about war with your balls inside me, dumbass.”

​Mike let out a startled, wet huff of a laugh against Will’s mouth, the vibration of it sending a fresh jolt of electricity straight to Will’s core. The tension in Mike’s shoulders seemed to snap, replaced by his typical hunger.

​“Fine,” Mike rasped, a wicked glint in his pitch black eyes. “You win.”

​He began to fuck Will with a brutal rhythm again. Will’s breath came in high, thin whistles; every time Mike’s hips collided with his ass, his entire body jolted, his heels digging into the mattress as he tried to get even closer, to eliminate the very idea of distance.

​“Mike—oh god, Mike, yes!” Will sobbed out, his head thrashing against the pillow.

​Mike didn’t answer with words. He just leaned over, his chest crushing Will’s back, and began to kiss the back of Will’s neck in open-mouthed kisses. His tongue swiped over the sensitive, unbranded skin, tasting the salt of Will’s sweat and the sweetness of his scent.

​The scent, Mike’s scent. It was manly and rough, a heady mix of rain-damp cedar and something sharp like iron, but it was so sweet, so fulfilling, so delicious. Will wanted to drown in it. He wanted it to be the only smell he ever encountered for the rest of his life

Will’s head rolled back against Mike’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled deeply, trying to pull the Alpha’s essence into his very lungs. “Mike,” he whimpered, the name more a prayer than a word.

​It didn’t take long until they were both cumming. Will’s body jerked as he stained his stomach, his breath hitching in a high, broken sob. At the same time, Mike was spilling inside his ass, the white liquid leaking out.

Mike rolled onto his side, his back to Will. Without thinking, Will shifted closer, curving his body into Mike’s back and wrapping an arm around the Alpha’s waist. Usually, Mike was the big spoon, but Will being the anchor for once was something he deeply wanted. His inner omega needed to take care of his Alpha, just this once.

​He leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to the sharp line of Mike’s shoulder blades, tasting the salt on his skin. He felt Mike shudder under his touch, a long exhale leaving the Alpha’s lungs. He kissed every freckle, every mole, every scar.

​“I don’t want to go,” Mike whispered into the darkness of the room. He reached back, his fingers blindly finding Will’s hand and lacing them together, squeezing tight. “I’m already losing the scent of you. I’m going to be in that tent, surrounded by the smell of iron and mud, and I won’t be able to feel your skin. I’m going to lose my mind, Will.”

​Will tightened his hold, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm. He knew this was the moment. He knew there was a way to fix the distance, a way to make sure Mike never truly felt alone, but the weight of it was so scary.

​“There’s a way,” Will started, his voice barely a breath against Mike’s spine. He was nervous. “A way for you to feel me. Even if we’re miles apart.”

​Mike shifted slightly, turning his head just enough to look at Will over his shoulder, his dark eyes clouded with confusion. “What? Will, what are you talking about?”

​Will didn't answer with words. Instead, he sat up slightly, hovering over Mike’s neck. He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to the junction of Mike’s shoulder and throat. His lips lingered there, a hot, damp brand on Mike’s skin.

His heart hammered in his chest; this was something he had wanted for so long now.

​He felt Mike go rigid.

​For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Then Mike slowly pulled away, turning fully to face Will, his expression guarded. Will’s heart fell to his stomach.

“Will... a mark? You know we can’t. If I bite you, the bond is permanent. Everyone will smell me on you. My father would know the second I walked back into the palace.”

​“Then let them know,” Will whispered, now embarrassed and feeling silly for even thinking about it. “If you’re so scared of losing me, then make it so you never can. Mark me, Mike. Let me carry you with me to the front lines” he begged.

“Your sister would smell it”

​“I don’t care,” Will hissed, his frustration finally bubbling to the surface. He pulled back, looking down at Mike with watery, desperate eyes. “You keep talking about how you’ll miss me, how you’re going to lose me to this war. If we’re mated, you’ll always know I’m alive. You’ll feel me. Isn’t that what you want?”

​Mike sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around his waist. He looked haunted. “It’s not about what I want, Will. If I mark you and then I’m forced to lead an attack... I’ll be killing my own mate’s people. It would break you. I can’t do that to you.”

​“So what are we then?” Will’s voice was barely a whisper now. He clutched the duvet to his chest, the fabric feeling thin and useless against the sudden chill in the room. “Are we just friends? Is that the label we’re sticking with while you’re inside me? While you’re telling me you’re dying without my scent?” he hissed “Or is it that you just don’t want to be tied to me?”

​“That's not fair,” Mike snapped, his brows furrowing. “You know how I feel. But a mark doesn’t change the fact that our kingdoms are at each other's throats. What are we even doing, Will? We are playing house while our people die!”

​The words playing house felt like a bucket of ice water over Will’s head. After everything—the secret meetings, being traitors to their parents, all the kisses, and every single time they had had sex—to call it a game was a knife to the gut.

​“Is that all this is to you?” Will asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and heartbreak. “A game? A distraction before you go off to be a hero for your father?”

​Mike let out a frustrated groan, standing up from the bed and immediately reaching for his pants.

​“I’m being realistic, Will! One of us has to be!” Mike shoved his legs into the fabric, his movements jerky and sharp. “If I mark you, I am claiming you as Eldorian property in the eyes of the law. Your father would see it as an act of war, not a romantic gesture. I’m trying to protect you from the consequences of my own shitty kingdom!”

​“I don’t need you to protect me, Mike. I just need you,” Will said, watching as Mike cinched his belt with a definitive click. “But I guess its easier to keep me as a secret fuck toy than to actually stand for something.”

​The silence that followed was suffocating. Mike stopped moving, his back to Will, his shoulders heaving. He looked like he wanted to scream, or maybe cry, but instead, he just reached for his boots.

​Mike finished dressing and finally turned around. He looked distant, the color of his eyes now dull, and Will thought he even looked older—new stress lines carved into his face. He stepped toward the bed, but he didn't sit down. He just leaned over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Will’s forehead.

​“I have to go before the sun breaks,” Mike whispered, his voice thick. ​“I’ll come back in four days, Will. Don’t do anything stupid.”

​Will didn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t. He just watched Mike slip out through the balcony doors, the silhouette of the Alpha disappearing into the mist.

“You’re acting weird,” Jane deadpanned.

​Will frowned, looking up from his palette. “Eh, no?”

​They were in Will’s studio, a small room on the highest floor. It was a space the Queen had prepared for him for his seventh birthday. He hadn’t spent much time there lately, so when Jane asked him if he could make a portrait of her, he had happily agreed. It was a rare chance for them to be just siblings, they couldn’t miss the moment.

​Jane didn’t move her head, keeping the pose he had requested, but her eyes followed his every movement. “Yes. You are. In all the time we’ve been here, you haven’t looked me in the eye once. And your smell is sour, Will.”

​Maybe it was because it was already day five, and Mike hadn’t come back.

“I’m just focused, Jane,” Will lied, his voice sounding thin even to his own ears. He reached for a blending stump, his fingers trembling. “The lighting is tricky today.”

​“Liar,” Jane said bluntly. She finally broke her pose, shoulders dropping as she leaned toward him. “Is it because of the war rumors?”

​​Will didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the canvas, where the oil paint was beginning to blur as his eyes welled up. It was because of the war, indirectly. Because of the stupid war, the love of his life could not mark him; they couldn’t be mated for life.

So yeah, you could say it was the war rumors. It was the rumors, the maps, the borders, and the crown that sat like a wall between them.

“Are you worried about Mike?”

​Will’s eyes snapped to his sister. Had she just said his name?

​“Mike? As in... Prince Michael?” he stammered, his heart performing a painful kick against his ribs. “What? No. No. I haven’t seen him since we were, like, eighteen.”

​“That was only a year ago,” Jane pointed out. “And your scent is spiked, Will. You know you can tell me everything, right?”

Screw Alphas and their sensitive noses. ​Will felt the blood drain from his face. He gripped his paintbrush so hard he thought the wood might snap.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

​“At least tell me you haven’t been seeing each other in the castle.”

Will’s grip on the paintbrush finally gave way with a sharp snap. He looked down at the two splintered pieces in his hand, his face heating up until his ears burned a vivid red.

“I— Uhm.”

“William” Jane’s eyes squinted, her voice dropping to a cold warning. “Answer me. Have you been bringing an Eldorian Prince into the heart of Hawkins?”

​“We were careful,” Will whispered, the truth finally tumbling out because he was too tired, and definitely too terrified to hold it back anymore. He looked up, his eyes glassy. “But—it was before the war rumors or even the tension started—”

Jane’s jaw dropped, her stoic mask cracking for a split second before her face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief. “Careful? Will, there are guards on every corridor! There are hounds that can smell a stranger from three floors down!”

​“He knows the blind spots, Jane! He grew up visiting here, remember? He—” Will caught himself, his face flaming a deeper shade of crimson. “He used the servant tunnels. And the balcony near the rose garden. It was only a few times.”

​It was a lie. It had been dozens of times. It had been every night they could manage. But Jane didn’t need to know all the details.

​“A few times is enough to get you both executed for treason,” Jane hissed. Her eyes bored into his, the intensity stinging like alcohol thrown into a raw wound. “You’ve been sleeping with the enemy in the King’s own house, Will. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this.”

​“He isn’t the enemy!” Will protested, his voice cracking. “He’s just Mike! He hates this war as much as I do. He—”

​A loud, frantic pounding at the door made them both jump.

​“Princess Jane? Prince William?”

​The voice belonged to Lucas Sinclair. He was one of the few guards Will actually liked, but hearing his voice now, only made the bile rise in Will’s throat.

​“Enter!” Jane commanded.

​Lucas pushed the door open, his armor clanking with each movement. He didn’t even wait to fully compose himself before bowing, his breath coming in quick, hurried gasps. “Princess, the King is in the war room. He’s asking for you, it’s urgent.”

Jane’s eyes snapped to Will, and he swallowed. His throat felt tight, like it was closing in on itself. Did she know? Did the King know? Were they about to drag Mike out in chains?

She turned back to the guard. “Tell him I’m on my way, Lucas. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Highness,” Lucas replied, stepping back to wait in the corridor.

Will stood abruptly, the stool scraping loudly against the stone floor. The sound made him flinch. “Jane? Should I come? If it’s the war council, maybe I should be there to—”

To do something, anything.

“No,” Jane cut him off. She didn’t even look at him as she reached for her cloak, throwing the heavy fabric over her shoulders. “You look like you’re about to collapse, and I can’t have you fainting in front of the King’s advisors.”

He hadn’t even realized how badly his hands were shaking until he tried to curl them into fists. His nails pressed into his palms, grounding him just enough to stay upright. She strode toward the door. As she passed Will, she didn’t slow down, but leaned in just enough for her voice to reach his ear.

“This conversation is not over, Will.”

He sank into the tub, letting the heat prickle against his skin until it felt like it was melting the tension out of his muscles. He stayed under the surface until his lungs burned, the muffled silence of the water providing a temporary sanctuary from the ache in his heart.

​​He needed to wash it all off, the fear and the suffocating sadness that consumed him. If war was truly coming, he needed to be ready, for Hawkins, just like Jane. He envied her; he was jealous of how level-headed she remained when it came to her responsibilities. He, on the other hand, felt his eyes well up at the mere thought of Mike being hurt—or worse, of being the one to hurt him.

​He pushed his head above the surface, gasping softly for air. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have gotten so attached to Mike; he shouldn’t have let him kiss him all those months ago. But he had wanted that kiss so dearly, so badly, that his mind had blurred the reality of any future conflict.

​And why had he asked for a bite mark? Mike had been right; it was a stupid idea. Dangerous. Reckless. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But he couldn’t stop spiraling over Mike’s words: “You know how I feel.” But he didn’t. Not really. He didn’t know what Mike truly wanted, or if it was really Will he desired for the long term.

Yes, they had kissed; sometimes slow and tender, other times rough and needy. They had held each other with reverence and desperation. They had fucked until they were both senseless.

​Will’s breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut, traitorous memories of the Alpha taking him flooding back: from behind, on top, pinned underneath. Sometimes needy and rough, other times soft and tender.

He shoved the thoughts aside, splashing cold water onto his face. He didn’t need to be dealing with an erection now.

​When he entered his bedchamber, the fire had burned down to low, glowing embers. He let the towel fall, standing naked in the center of the room. He reached for a small vial of sandalwood oil, pouring a few drops into his palm. The scent was earthy, a scent that made him feel safe since it was similar to Mike’s. He began to rub it into his skin, his hands smoothing over his chest and stomach, the oil catching the flickering orange light of the hearth.

​He was just reaching for a clean silk tunic when he heard it.

A thud against the stone of the balcony, followed by a scrape of boots.

The door swung inward, bringing with him a rush of biting night air that turned his oiled skin to gooseflesh. A tall, hooded figure stumbled into the room, leaning heavily against the frame and breathing in shallow gasps.

It was Mike.

​“What the hell are you doing here?!” Will hissed, the fear breaking his voice. He dropped the tunic and scrambled toward the balcony, shoving the figure aside to grab the handles. He slammed the glass shut and threw the heavy bolt, his eyes darting toward the garden below to see if any guards had followed the movement.

It was too early; usually, when Mike visited, all the castle lights were already off.

​When he turned back, Mike had pulled down his hood. He looked exhausted, his face pale beneath the grime of travel, but he was smiling, and Will’s traitorous heart flipped at the sight.

“I told you I would come”

​“You’re a day late, Mike!” Will snapped, though he kept his voice to a frantic whisper. “And it’s too early; there are too many guards outside!” All the panic he had carried all day finally blurted out, sharp and icy.

“And on top of that, Jane knows! She smells you on me. And I remind you, war is about to happen!”

Mike’s smile faltered, and Will was confused as the Alpha’s eyes traveled down slowly, shamelessly, when they were literally arguing.

​“Will...” Mike breathed, his pupils blown wide. The Alpha’s scent surged, pleased. “Whoa. You’re... you’re naked.”

​Will looked down, the realization of his state finally catching up with his brain. His face flamed a shade of red so deep it made his ears throb. “I was in the bath! I didn’t expect a fugitive prince to come crashing through my window.” He stammered “Idiot!”

​He reached for the silk tunic on the rug, but the sting of the last five days rose up in his throat. All the hurtful words they had shared the last time they saw each other pained him; they were sharper than any sword. His inner wolf wailed, and he had to fight the urge to throw his arms around the Alpha. No. Instead of putting the silk on, he simply turned his back to Mike, a cold and silent rejection.

​“Just go,” Will whispered. His shoulders were tense and his spine rigid. “Go back to Eldoria. If they find you here, it’s over for both of us.”

The room went silent, save for the rhythm of their breathing. Then, the soft thud of something falling to the floor echoed through the chamber, followed by the muffled sound of boots moving across the rug.

Mike was behind him now. He had stripped off his cloak and shirt, closing the distance until it was bare skin against bare skin. His chest was cold from the night air, sending a jolting shiver through Will’s heated body.

​A large, calloused hand settled tentatively on Will’s waist, the thumb tracing the curve of his hip. Will shivered, but he didn’t pull away. Mike leaned in, his nose brushing against the nape of Will's neck, inhaling deeply at his shoulder. After an entire shower spent trying to erase every molecule of Mike’s scent, Will was right back at the start. He pressed his lips shut, fighting the urge to moan at the feeling; God, he was so pathetic.

​“I’m sorry” Mike murmured, his voice vibrating against Will’s skin. “They needed me back at home.”

​​He began to pepper soft, grazing kisses along Will’s shoulder blades, his lips dragging through the scented oil. His hands roamed upward, his palms slicking with sandalwood as they smoothed over Will’s ribs, pulling the Omega back against his chest.

“Forgive me,” Mike breathed, his touch still gentle as he buried his face in the crook of Will’s neck. “Please, Will. I’ve been going crazy thinking about you. Only you.”

Will’s eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against Mike’s shoulder. “Why should I?” he whispered, though he knew it was too late; his heart had already forgiven him.

Instead of answering with words, Mike’s hands slid down to Will’s hips. With a firm but reverent pressure, he turned Will around to face him. Before Will could even blink, Mike sank to the floor, dropping onto his knees.

​Will gasped, his hands flying up to hover mid-air, unsure whether to push Mike away or pull him closer. He looked down, stunned, as the future King of Eldoria knelt at his feet like a sinner at an altar.

​“Because I’m a fool,” Mike croacked against the bare skin of Will’s thigh. He leaned forward, pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive dip just above Will’s knee. “Because I was scared, and I took it out on the only thing in this world that matters to me.”

​Mike’s hands were slick with the oil now, sliding up the backs of Will’s legs and pulling him forward until Will’s stomach was pressed right against Mike’s face. Mike inhaled sharply, his bumpy nose digging into Will’s skin, making Will let out a shaky moan.

​“Because I belong to you, Will. I am yours. I’ve been yours since we were children, and I’ll be yours when these kingdoms are nothing but ash.”

​He went lower, his hands locking around Will’s ankles to keep him steady as he swiped his tongue across the arch of Will’s foot, then his toes, tasting the salt and oil on his skin.

​“Forgive me. Please,” Mike groaned against Will's skin, his forehead coming to rest against Will’s feet. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Just don’t look at me with that coldness in your eyes again.”

​That was it. Will’s head thudded back against the wall, a strangled moan escaping his throat as Mike’s tongue swiped across his ankle. His toes curled. The sensation was overwhelming, entirely new for both the Omega and the Alpha. Seeing the Alpha’s total submission was making Will flustered, his knees turning to water.

​Will’s body betrayed his lingering anger instantly; he was getting hard, his length straining upward.

​“Mike,” Will breathed, his voice trembling. “Mike, look at me. Look up.”

​Mike obeyed, but he didn’t stand. He stayed on his knees, tilting his head back to look at Will, his chin resting near Will’s stomach. His eyes were beautiful, and Will let out another soft moan as he got lost in them. The pupils were blown so wide they nearly swallowed the iris, framed by thick eyebrows that softened into a look of complete focus, total devotion to serving Will. Even his freckles looked beautiful under that deep, pink flush of arousal and shame.

​“I forgive you,” Will whispered, his fingers tangling in Mike’s dark hair. “I already have. Just... stop being a martyr and come here.”

​Mike stayed rooted to the floor, his gaze dropping from Will’s eyes to the heavy, pulsing heat of Will’s groin. His brows furrowed, a low, shaky breath escaping him as he leaned forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to the base of Will’s stomach.

​“But Will,” Mike muttered, his voice a low, deep growl against Will’s skin. “You’re so hard for me.”

Will let out a small, embarrassed whine, his toes curling against the stone floor again. He felt painfully exposed, himself completely naked and slick with oil, while Mike was still with his pants on.

He was furious with himself for being so easy, for how quickly his anger had melted into need, but when it came to Mike, Will was always weak. Just seeing the Alpha kneel had nearly been enough to make him come right then and there.

​“Mike, please…”

​Mike kissed lower, right at the base of his cock, making Will’s breath hitch in a broken whimper. “Let me pleasure you, please,” Mike begged, his eyes flicking up to Will’s with a look of pure, starved devotion.

Will’s hazel eyes flickered over his face, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His hand, still buried deep in Mike’s curls, gave a testing tug. He watched, eyes wide, as Mike’s head tilted back in response, his neck straining, but he didn’t break eye contact for a single second.

​It was so hot. The raw power Will felt, holding the Crown Prince’s head while he knelt there like a dog, sent a surge of heat straight to Will’s dick.

​“Do it,” Will choked out, his voice dropping to a command.

Mike smirked, clearly pleased as his scent spilled out in another intoxicating wave, sweet and musky, laced with the sharp edge of arousal. But he didn’t waste another second. His lips parted, his tongue flicking out to tease the slick, swollen head of Will’s cock before enveloping him in the wet, searing heat of his mouth.

Will’s breath hitched violently, his fingers tightening in Mike’s hair as the Alpha took him deep, his throat opening around the thick length. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but it had always been the other way around; Will on his knees, Will pleasuring Mike with his mouth. This was new.

A broken moan tore from his throat as Mike’s nose pressed into the soft curls at the root, the Alpha’s breath hot against his skin.

Mike groaned around him, the vibration rattling through Will’s entire body, making his knees buckle. The Alpha’s hands slid up the backs of Will’s thighs, gripping his ass hard, pulling him closer as if he couldn’t get enough. His tongue swirled around the head, lapping at the pre-cum beading there, savoring the salty taste. Will’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, his cock hitting the back of Mike’s throat, and Mike took it, swallowing around him with no problem.

Mike started bobbing his head, his movements first slow but quickly picking up the pace. His lips dragged up and down with wet, obscene sounds, his tongue tracing the veins and flicking the sensitive spot just beneath the head, making Will’s breath stutter every time. The Alpha’s hand snaked up to Will’s stomach, his fingers pressing into tense muscles as he hollowed his cheeks, taking him deeper, harder.

Will’s head thudded back against the wall. “Oh—Mike,” his voice high and thin as Mike’s throat fluttered around him. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Every time Mike pulled back, his teeth grazed lightly over the sensitive skin, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through Will’s nerves.

The sound of wet, sloppy suction filled the room, mixed with Will’s broken moans and Mike’s groans. Just as the pleasure became too much, Mike slid one hand between Will’s legs, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls. Will cried out, a tear finally falling down his cheek.

Will’s hips began to move in time with Mike’s mouth, his body seeking more, needing more. “Mike—I’m—I’m gonna—” His voice broke, his fingers twisting in Mike’s hair as his orgasm coiled tight in his gut. But just as the pleasure crested, just as his vision blurred at the edges, he yanked Mike back by his hair, his cock slipping from the Alpha’s lips with a wet pop.

Mike looked up at him, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with lust and confusion. “Didn’t like it?” he rasped.

Will’s breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his cock throbbing, desperate for release. He shook his head, his fingers still tangled in Mike’s hair. “No—fuck, I loved it,” he panted, his voice trembling. “But I want you to fuck me in bed. Now.” His gaze burned into Mike’s, his lips parted as he fought to catch his breath. “Please?”

Mike didn’t say a word. He surged upward, his movement explosive as he hooked his arms under Will’s thighs and hoisted him up. Will let out a startled yelp, wrapping his legs instinctively around Mike’s waist, his oiled skin sliding against the rough fabric of Mike’s pants until Mike slammed him gently back into the mattress.

The impact knocked the breath out of Will’s lungs, and he sank into the silk sheets, his hair fanning out like a halo. He watched, transfixed and panting, as Mike stood at the edge of the bed. Mike didn't take his eyes off Will for a second as he kicked off his boots with frantic impatience, the heavy leather hitting the floor with dull thuds. Then, he shucked his trousers, stripping them away until he was finally as bare as Will.

​Will’s gaze traveled shamelessly over him. Mike was lean and muscular, his skin pale but marked here and there by the faint white lines of old training scars. His own length was heavy and leaking, standing rigid against his stomach, twitching with every ragged breath he took.

​“God, Mike,” Will whispered, words trailing off.

​He crawled back over Will, but instead of the frantic pace from before, he was taking his time. He hovered over Will, his eyes tracing every inch of the Omega’s body like he was memorizing a map. He reached out, his thumb catching the stray tears that had tracked down Will’s temples, wiping them away with a tenderness that made Will’s chest ache.

​“You’re so beautiful,” Mike whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t deserve you, Will. I really don’t.”

​He began to worship. He started at Will’s forehead, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there, then moved to his eyelids, his nose, and the corners of his mouth. He descended to Will’s neck, his tongue darting out to lap at the pulse point that was drumming a frantic beat. He moved lower, his mouth finding Will’s nipples, teasing them with his teeth until Will was arching off the sheets, his hands clutching the pillows.

Mike’s hands followed his mouth, smoothing over Will’s chest, his ribs, and down to his hips. He paused to kiss the soft skin of Will’s inner thighs, lingering to leave a trail of roses in his wake. Gently, Mike hooked his hands behind Will’s knees to guide his legs further apart.

He was cherishing him, treating Will like something fragile and holy, his touches light and reverent.

​Will’s head was tossing from side to side, his fingers knotting into the sheets. The kisses were beautiful, it was everything he’d dreamed of; feeling so loved and cherished, but the ache between his legs was becoming unbearable. The friction of Mike’s body was driving him to the brink of insanity.

​“Mike,” Will groaned, his voice a strained and needy thing. He reached down, grabbing Mike’s wrists and pulling him back up so their chests collided. “Mike, stop. You’re forgiven, I’m yours, you’re mine, I get it. But if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”

​Mike, stupid and infuriating as always, let out a low chuckle. He looked down at Will, his eyes hooded and dark, his teeth catching his lower lip.

“Tell me again.” Mike said, the hand on his thigh sliding down to the curve of Will’s ass; giving it a little squeeze . “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

Will’s breath hitched at the command, his fingers digging into the muscle of Mike’s forearms. He was past the point of pride, past caring about anything other than getting his brains fucked out.

“I want you inside me” he whimpered, his hips stuttering a desperate, upward plea. “Fuck me. Please, Mike. I need to feel you.”

Mike didn’t make him ask again. Will felt a surge of pride as he heard Mike mutter a curse, reaching for the lube on the nightstand. Mike was just as far gone and horny as he was, and based on the heavy, musky pheromones rolling off him in waves, he even was more.

​He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, the liquid shimmering in the firelight before he pressed his hand against Will’s heat.

Will let out a long, shaky moan as Mike’s slicked fingers began to work. It started slow, just the press of a tip circling his entrance before a single finger pushed inside. Will’s eyes rolled back, his internal muscles clenching around the intrusion with a frantic, desperate greed.

Mike had long, slender fingers, and Will had learned very early on that Mike was an expert at using them. He always found the perfect spots, corners of Will’s body that he could never quite reach on his own.

Mike let out a low groan, jaw locked. “God, Will... always so fucking tight for me.”

​He added a second finger, then a third, his hand beginning to thrust in fast, rhythmic movements.

​Will was coming undone. Every pump of Mike’s fingers felt like a lightning strike, sending jolts of white-hot electricity straight to his core. The friction was slick and punishing, and with the way Mike was angling his hand, he was hitting the very center of Will’s need over and over again.

He was already so overstimulated from the fear of the last five days, the warmth of the shower, the perfect blowjob Mike had given him, and all the kisses and caresses, that he felt like a live wire. Mike thrusted another finger in and curled it harshly. 

​“Mike—ohgod, Mike, wait—” Will’s voice climbed an octave, his back arching sharply off the silk sheets. His hands flew down, clutching at Mike’s wrists to stop him. “I’m close... Mike, please, I’m—”

​“I’ve got you,” Mike rasped, but he didn’t slow down. If anything, he drove his fingers deeper, his thumb bearing down on Will’s entrance to create a friction that made Will’s vision spark. “Go on, Will. Come for me.”

​​It was the final push. A high, keening sound broke from Will’s throat as his entire body went rigid, his back arching so sharply his head nearly touched the headboard. He came hard, a messy, white-hot release that coated his own stomach and Mike’s hand. He kept clenching through the aftershocks, his internal muscles seizing in tight, rhythmic pulses, and Mike’s fingers kept fucking into him through the peak, dragging out every last drop of sensation until Will was sobbing from the sheer force of it.

For a long minute, the only sound in the room was Will’s ragged, broken sobs. He slumped back into the pillows, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he stared at the flickering shadows on the ceiling. He felt light, untethered, and completely dazed, his mind nothing but a buzzy, white screen.

​Mike didn’t move away. He gently withdrew his hand, but his focus never left Will for a second. He leaned over, caging Will’s smaller frame with his own heavy, heat-radiating body, and began to pepper his face with soft, reverent kisses. He kissed Will’s temple, his tear-damp cheeks, and the tip of his nose, his scent wrapping around the Omega like a sweet blanket.

​“Breathe, sweetheart,” Will heard Mike whispering sweet nothings against his ear, the words vibrating through his skin, but he couldn’t quite hold onto the meaning yet. He was too far gone. “I’ve got you. You’re okay”

​Mike continued his ministrations, his lips moving along the sensitive line of Will’s jaw. He stayed there, breathing against his skin, waiting for Will’s pupils to stop being so blown and for his fingers to stop twitching against the sheets.

​“There you are,” Mike murmured as Will’s eyes finally focused, the glassy haze replaced by a raw, vulnerable clarity. Mike brushed a stray, sweat-slicked curl from Will’s forehead, staring at him with pure adoration.

​The fog in Will’s mind slowly disappeared as he blinked, drifting back to reality and Mike’s face.

He didn’t quite understand what had just happened—how, with just Mike’s fingers and mouth, he had fallen into this subspace so harshly. He had absolutely loved it though, and while he knew he was red and wet and a complete mess, Mike still looked at him like he was something holy.

​“You’re still... you haven’t...” Will trailed off, his voice a raspy whisper as he felt the rigid weight of Mike’s cock pressing against his thigh, twitching and leaking.

​“It doesn’t matter,” Mike murmured gently. He started to pull back, looking like he was going to settle for just holding Will. “You’re exhausted, Will. You’ve been through enough today. We should just—”

​“No.” Will’s hands shot out, catching Mike by the shoulders. His fingers dug into the muscle there, anchoring him. “Don’t you dare stop now, Michael.”

​Mike froze, his breath hitching at the use of his full name. He looked down at Will, his dark eyes searching. “Will, you just came so hard you couldn’t even speak. I don’t want to overstep and hurt you.”

“I’ll tell you if you do,” Will promised, squeezing his shoulders again. He shifted his hips, deliberately rubbing against Mike’s length, a thrill running through him at the strangled growl it drew from Mike. “I don’t want to stop. I need you, Mike. Properly. Please.”

​To prove his point, Will hooked his legs around Mike’s waist, pulling him back into the cradle of his thighs. The friction of their skin sliding together was almost enough to send him spiraling again.

​He saw the struggle behind Mike’s eyes, but it only took a second for his restraint to snap. A guttural growl tore from Mike's throat as he surged forward, pinning Will to the mattress with the sheer weight of his body. His lips crashed down, claiming Will’s mouth in a bruising, open-mouthed kiss. All teeth and tongue and raw, animal hunger. Will moaned into it, his fingers clawing at Mike’s back, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks that would surely linger.

​Mike broke the kiss only to drag his lips down Will’s throat, biting at the sensitive skin where his pulse fluttered wildly. “Fuck, you’re impossible, so needy” he growled, the words thick with a desperate, beautiful agony. His hips rolled instinctively, the thick, heavy length of his cock dragging against Will’s inner thigh and leaving a slick, shimmering trail of heat in its wake. Will shuddered beneath him, loving every second of the friction, his head tossing back as he gasped loudly.

​“So big,” Will moaned, breathless and intentional. He knew exactly how to push Mike’s buttons, and he felt the immediate twitch of Mike’s length against his skin in response.

Mike reached between them, his fingers slicking his own rigid, throbbing wood with the remnants of the lube still warm on Will’s skin. The wet, obscene squelch of it made Will’s stomach clench, his entrance pulsing in a rhythmic, aching invitation. Mike lined himself up, the broad and leaking head of his cock pressing firmly against Will’s tight opening, and pushed.

Will’s eyes flew wide and glazed over instantly, his mouth falling open in a silent, high-pitched scream as he felt his muscles stretch to their absolute limit.

​“Mike—!” Will finally choked out, and Mike didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis slamming hard against Will’s peachy butt.

​He didn’t give Will time to adjust. He began to pull back, almost all the way out until the friction made Will whine in protest, before slamming back in with a brutal force. Each thrust was deep and heavy, the wet slap of their bodies echoing in the quiet room. Mike was relentless, his movements primal and uncoordinated as he chased his release.

​Will’s legs hooked tighter around Mike’s waist, his heels digging into Mike’s lower back as he met every thrust with a desperate, upward surge of his own hips. He was overstimulated, his vision sparking with white light every time Mike’s knot brushed against his most sensitive depths.

​“More,” Will sobbed, “Mike, please—harder—”

​Mike obeyed, his hands coming up to pin Will’s wrists above his head, his fingers interlacing with Will's as he accelerated, driving into him with a mindless hunger, the entire bed frame groaning under the weight of their passion.

Outside, the moon climbed higher, casting long, shifting shadows across the room.

“I have to leave before the sun hits the treeline,” Mike whispered into the heavy silence of the room.

​Will didn’t open his eyes, but his breathing hitched, his body tensing where it was tucked firmly against Mike’s side. He looked small beneath the heavy furs, his skin still flushed and smelling of the sandalwood oil Mike had spent hours worshiping.

​“The border is a mess, Will,” Mike continued as he stared at the ceiling. He began to trace the line of Will’s jaw with a trembling finger, the movement restless and frantic. “My father is calling the banners. It’s starting. It’s really happening.”

​Will finally stirred, a soft sleepy hum vibrating in his throat as he nuzzled deeper into the crook of Mike’s neck, seeking the comfort of that cedar and rain scent one last time.

​“I don’t know if I'll be able to get back here again,” Mike confessed, the words spilling out of him like a wound that wouldn’t close. “The tunnels might be watched. If I can’t come back before the march… I need you to stay safe. I need you to listen to Jane. If she tells you to run, you run. Do you hear me?”

Will shifted, his body sliding upward until he was level with Mike, their noses brushing in the dim light. He didn’t want to talk about Jane, or the tunnels, or the war. He wanted to drown in the sound of Mike’s heart. To Will, there was no fear in the end of the world; dying by Mike's side would be the most beautiful way to go this cruel world.

​Will reached out, his fingers tangling in the dark curls at the nape of Mike’s neck, and pulled him down.

It was a scattered map of soft pecks, Will pressing his lips to Mike’s high cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, the sensitive skin under his eye, and the bridge of his nose. He had always thought Mike was the most handsome man to exist, every sharp line and soft curve of his features combining into something sacred. As an artist, Will didn’t just want to kiss him; he wanted to memorize the topography of his face, etching it into his soul before Eldoria stole him away again.

Eventually, Will finally captured his lips. It was a tender, brief press of mouth against mouth, enough to make them both hum in satisfaction. Will pulled back just an inch, his eyes tracing Mike’s features one more time. He wondered if he’d ever actually said it out loud—that Mike was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

​Mike didn’t give him time to dwell on it. His hands came up to frame Will’s face, his thumbs stroking the curve of his cheekbones as he pulled him back in.

Of all the kisses they had shared, Will felt this was the most desperate. Mike pressed kiss after open-mouthed kiss against Will’s lips as if he were trying to memorize him back.

​When Mike finally broke the kiss to breathe, his forehead remained pressed against Will’s. His eyes were dark and wet, his face flushed. He looked at Will with a terrifying amount of intensity.

​“Will,” Mike rasped, his voice cracking. “I can’t leave without—I need to say it. I’ve known for so long, and if I’m going to the border, if I have to lead those men for Eldoria, I need you to know. I love—”

​Will didn’t let him finish. He quickly raised his hand, pressing his palm flat against Mike’s mouth.

“Don’t say it”

​Mike froze, his brow furrowing. A flash of hurt and confusion crossed his face. “But Will—”

​“No,” Will said, shaking his head slowly. He moved his hand from Mike’s mouth to cup his cheek, his thumb tracing the bridge of Mike’s nose. “Don’t say it now. Not because you’re afraid you won’t come back.”

​He pulled Mike down, forcing their foreheads together until they were sharing the same shaky breath.

“Tell me when the war is over. I’ll be waiting right here to hear it.”

Mike buried his face in the crook of Will’s neck, and he worked his nose deeply against the scent gland at the base of Will’s throat, rubbing his face back and forth with a frantic to grind his heavy cedar and rain musk into Will’s skin.

​He didn’t stop at the neck. Mike snatched Will’s wrists, dragging them up to his face. He rubbed his own wrists and forearms vigorously against Will's, the friction of skin-on-skin transferring his scent in thick layers. He was marking his scent over Will’s body until the Omega was completely saturated in him.

It was three months into the war when Jane confronted him again.

​​Mike had been right. He was always right about these things, and Will hated how that realization tasted like copper in his mouth. Barely twelve hours after their last goodbye, the King of Eldoria had declared war on Hawkins, dragging them all into this suffocating and stagnant nightmare.

It was a mild war, if such a thing existed. Both sides struck, but they pulled their punches at the last second, as if afraid of what would happen if they truly let go. Hawkins was scrappy, held together by nothing but Jane’s sheer grit and the way she tore secrets from the enemy's mind until her nose bled. Will knew, with a sickening certainty, she was the only reason they weren't already buried in the dirt.

​By all logic, they should have been crushed weeks ago. For some reason, the Eldorian line held back, refusing to deliver the final blow.

​In all that time, the silence from Mike’s side had been absolute. Will understood the necessity of it, but the quiet ate at him, a slow rot that set in every time the sun went down. He lived in the space between questions: Was Mike the one holding the Eldorian hand? Was he healthy? Was he bleeding? Did he wake up reaching for Will in the dark?

Then there were the nightmares. In some, he died. In others, he watched Jane and Jonathan fall. But the worst ones, the ones that left him gasping for air in the dark, were the ones where he watched Mike vanish into a literal sea of blood, slipping through Will’s fingers like sand.

​The dreams were always more vivid at the castle. Being the only Hawkins prince without a talent for the front lines, Will was relegated to safety while his siblings lived in the mud. He hated himself for it. He felt useless, a porcelain doll tucked away on a shelf while the world burned. He felt like a ghost haunting his own life.

Finally, after a dream so grisly he could still smell the blood on his skin, Will demanded to be taken to the camp.

The second he actually got there, he knew something was dead wrong. Some people wouldn't even look him in the eye, their gazes darting away like they were in total shock. But then he’d pass other soldiers who looked weirdly relieved, happy, even. He even saw a group of men huddled together, passing around a bottle and celebrating.

​Celebrating what? The war wasn’t over. It felt heavy and wrong, a knot tightening in his stomach with every step he took toward Jane’s tent.

He immediately scrunched his nose, it as a nasty and suffocating mix of Alpha scents all shoved into one space, but Jane’s was the strongest. Her sweet brown sugar was now acrid, like burn out. He wasn't surprised when he finally saw her.

​​She was hunched over her desk, looking completely wrecked. A group of men were barking reports at her, but her eyes were glazed; she’d clearly stopped listening long ago. The second she spotted him, however, her expression softened. Her doe eyes warmed, and Will felt his own lips twitch into a smile. Seeing Jane look human for a heartbeat always made him feel like he could finally breathe again.

​With a dismissive wave, she sent the men packing. The moment the tent flap fluttered shut, Will moved. He crossed the distance in two strides and pulled her into a massive hug. Jane buried her face in his shoulder, letting out a shaky breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob.

​When she pulled back, she looked even more exhausted up close. “Will, you shouldn’t be here,” she murmured, though her hands stayed clamped to his arms. She started fussing over him, scanning his face for scratches as if she wasn't the one currently carrying the weight of a war.

​Will rolled his eyes and caught her wrists to still her. “Jane. Seriously. I’m fine.”

​“You’re not supposed to be at the front, Will,” she insisted. “It’s not safe. Especially not today.”

​Will’s frown deepened, a fresh wave of anxiety fluttering in his chest. “Why especially today? Jane, I saw the men outside. Some are crying, but others... I saw a group of them sharing a bottle. What is going on?”

​Jane’s expression suddenly brightened. She flashed a smile, and squeezed his hands so hard it hurt.

“The King of Eldoria is dead.”

Oh.

​The ground felt like it tilted under Will’s feet. The air in the tent suddenly vanished, replaced by a wave of nausea that made his head spin.

​“What?” Will breathed, his voice barely a sound. “Jane, that... that can’t be true. You’re sure?”

​“I saw it, Will. It’s not a rumor.” She finally looked at him, her eyes bloodshot and terrifyingly focused. “I went into the Queen Mother’s head an hour ago. She’s been sitting with the body for two days, crying her eyes out. From what I picked up, his heart just gave out. He’s gone.”

Oh.

​Will had to close his eyes to keep from tipping over. The King was dead. The man who had orchestrated this entire nightmare, was gone.

​But that wasn’t why the air was vanishing from his lungs.

​“If he’s dead,” Will breathed, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “Then Mike... Michael is...”

​“He’s the new King!” Jane chirped. She actually laughed, a bright and giddy sound that made Will’s skin crawl. She let go of one of his hands to gesture wildly at the map on her desk. “Don’t you see? The crown passed the second the old man’s heart stopped. Mike is the sovereign. He’s the target.”

​​Will shook his head, his mind spinning. No, that wasn’t right. Mike wasn’t Eldoria’s King; he was just a boy, a boy! Barely an adult. Will saw him hunched over his books, he had always loved reading and writing poetry. He saw Mike’s black curls and the way his freckles stood out when he stared at Will with pure adoration.

​He saw Mike standing over a casket right now, alone and grieving, while the weight of a crumbling kingdom was forced onto his shoulders.

​“He must be terrified,” Will whispered, mostly to himself.

“Terrified?” Jane repeated. “Well, yes. Will, he’s perfect. A terrified boy is exactly what we need on that throne. He's soft. He’s distracted by his own grief.”

She stepped closer, invading his space, her eyes wide and glittering with hope.

​“These men are celebrating because they know what that means. If we strike tomorrow night…” She trailed off, looking at him with her eyebrows raised, as if she were waiting for him to smile and finish her sentence.

​But Will couldn’t. He just stared at her, his stomach churning. All the nightmares were real.

Either way, I lose you

​“You want to kill Mike?” he whispered, not caring about titles or ranks anymore.

​Jane let out a breathy, impatient laugh. “Yes, Will. This is a war, and he’s the enemy, that’s how wars work. Think about the lives we save if we just take off the head. Just one clean move.”

​She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers digging into his coat. “We can win this before he even has time to realize what the crown feels like. Don’t tell me you’re still holding onto some childhood crush when the finish line is right in front of us.”

Will recoiled as if she’d slapped him. He stepped out of her grip, retreating until his back hit the central pole of the tent.

​“He isn’t just a crush, Jane,” he pleaded. “There must be another way! Why can’t we just talk?” He moved his hands frantically, searching for an argument. “Remember that time when Eldoria gave the Hawkins unit food? I—Mike was the one behind those shipments!”

Jane’s face didn’t soften. If anything, her expression turned pitying, which was a thousand times worse than her anger. She crossed her arms, leaning back against her desk.

​“He sent us bread and blankets because he was a Prince who felt generous one day, Will. Now he’s a King who has a council of generals breathing down his neck. Do you really think they’re going to let him send us gifts now? The second he tries to 'talk' to us, his own people will call it treason and put his head on a spike anyway.”

​“He’s the King!” Will snapped, his voice cracking. “He’s the one in charge! If he wants peace—”

​​“He’s the enemy!” Jane shouted back, her patience finally snapping. The air in the tent turned acrid again, the smell of burnt sugar so sharp that Will winced. “The enemy! He is responsible for all our deaths, for all the suffering and loss from the last three months! This is Eldoria, Will. We cant just go up to them and ask for a chat. Grow the hell up!”

The tent fell silent after Jane’s outburst, the weight of her words pressing down on the boy like a physical force. Will stood frozen, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his fingers trembling at his sides. The air between them was thick with the bitter scent of burnt sugar and sour mandarins.

​Jane didn’t look at him for a long time. Her shoulders, which had been pulled high and tight, finally slumped. She looked smaller, exhausted to the brink, with chapped lips, dark bags under her eyes, and pale, sallow skin.

​She let out a long, ragged breath and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

​“Will,” she whispered, so gently. “Will, I know you love him. I’m not blind”

​The omega didn’t move. His chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a knife.

​“And I hate this,” she whispered, finally lifting her head. Her eyes were shiny and bloodshot, incredibly sad. “Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to be the person who orders the death of the person my brother loves so dearly? I don’t. I really don’t.”

She took a step closer but didn’t invade his space. As his sister, she knew how to handle him when he was on the verge of a panic attack, and she knew that touching him right now was definitely a no.

​“But I’m not just your sister,” she continued, trying to catch his unfocused gaze. When he finally looked at her, his breath hitched. “And now, I have to choose. I have to choose between my people, my family, you... or Mike... I choose you. You understand how hard that is for me, right? You understand I have three hundred starving men sleeping in those tents right now. I have to do this.”

​Will shook his head, a single hot tear finally spilling over. “He would have ended it, Jane. If you just gave him a chance, he would have found a way to stop the fighting.”

​Jane pressed her lips into a thin line and let out a soft exhale.

​“Go back to your tent, Will,” she said finally, straightening up and returning to her desk. “Please, just go to sleep. Rest. I’m sending you back to the castle tomorrow morning. I’ll have a guard escort you at first light. You shouldn’t be here for the rest of this.”

The canvas of the tent flap whipped open, the sudden snap of fabric echoing like a gunshot in the quiet night.

​Will jumped, nearly dropping the small pack he was clutching. He was already dressed for the road, huddled inside a thick, dark hoodie with the laces pulled tight to shadow his face. He had been seconds away from slipping out under the back of the tent, but now he froze, his heart hammering against his ribs.

​“Leaving so soon?”

​Will whirled around, a plea already forming on his lips, but the air left him the moment he saw who was standing there.

​“Jonathan?” Will breathed.

Standing there, was his older brother. Jonathan looked just as tired as everyone else, his eyes weary, but his expression was soft.

​“Hey, kid,” Jonathan murmured.

​Before Will could even think, he crossed the floor and threw his arms around his brother. Jonathan caught him, pulling him into a massive, grounding hug that smelled of coconut pie and lavender, his scent calming him immediately. For a second, Will let himself be a kid again, leaning into the only person who had always been on his side.

“I thought you were at the communication towers,” Will muttered into his shoulder as they pulled apart.

​“Just got back. I heard about... everything,” Jonathan said. He looked down at Will’s dark clothes, then at the packed bag on the cot. His smile faded into something more knowing. “Where are you going, Will?”

​Will’s throat went dry. He looked at the tent exit, then back at his brother, his eyes wide and pleading. “Jonathan, please. Please don’t tell Jane. I have to go. I can’t let them do it. I just need to see him, just once, I have to—”

​“Will, hey. Breathe.” Jonathan reached out, grabbing Will’s shoulders to steady him. He looked toward the tent flap to make sure no one was listening, then looked back at Will with a small, sad nod. “It’s okay. I know where you’re going.”

​Will’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “You aren’t going to stop me?”

​“I’ve spent the last four years watching you look at the horizon like your heart was on the other side of it,” Jonathan said quietly. “I’m not going to start stopping you now.”

​He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of parchment, shoving it into Will’s hand.

​“Listen to me,” Jonathan whispered, leaning in close. “You need to take the old creek bed through the ravine. It’s overgrown and it’ll be a nightmare in the dark, but the Eldorian sensors don’t pick up movement down there. It leads straight to the back of the border camp, near the officer tents.”

​Will gripped the paper like a lifeline. “Jonathan, thank you. I—”

​​“Don’t thank me yet. Just get there,” Jonathan interrupted, giving his shoulder one last squeeze. “And don’t get yourself killed, please. I mean it.”

​Will nodded rapidly, his throat too tight for words. He surged forward, burying his face in Jonathan’s chest for one last and desperate hug. Jonathan held him tight, his hand resting on the back of Will’s head for a brief second, a silent promise of protection that they both knew he couldn’t actually keep.

​“Go,” Jonathan urged, finally pulling back and nudging him toward the shadows at the rear of the tent. His eyes were glassy. “Go now.”

​Will didn’t look back. He pulled his hood low over his eyes and slipped through the gap in the canvas, disappearing into the shadows of the night.

He held his hands out in front of him, his index and middle fingers glowing with a faint yellow light. The small beads of light danced just above his skin, casting enough of a glow to keep him from tripping over the rocks and mud, but staying low enough to keep him hidden from a potential attack. This was the first time Will had felt truly grateful for his magic; all his life he had thought of it as a burden, something that only weighed people like Jane down.

​He was doing his best not to panic or start crying, because to be completely honest, he was shitting his pants. He was heading straight into the heart of the enemy's camp—he, a Prince, and probably one of the people the Eldorian soldiers wanted dead the most. Still, he had to keep going. He didn’t think he could take a single day more without his the Alpha.

​Following Jonathan’s instructions, he finally saw the camp lay ahead after about five hours of fast walking. He extinguished the sparks with a quick flick of his wrist. It was still dark, but in a few hours, the sun would start to rise.

​He scanned the rows of tents. It wasn’t the bustling war machine he’d expected from Eldoria; it looked similar to theirs, just a cluster of tents and supplies huddled together. It was eerily quiet, with not so much as an ant moving. In the far corner, a few soldiers were huddled around a low fire; bottles littered the ground around them, but they were all asleep, looking almost dead to the world.

​He had made it to the camp; now the difficult part was going to be finding Mike. Will’s eyes searched for the largest tent, the one that looked like it belonged to the Prince—or well, the King. He spotted it near the center: a blue tent with golden decorations bearing the Eldorian shield.

​He had to be in there.

​He began to move with slow, deliberate steps. His heart was thumping so loudly in his ears that he had to bite his lower lip to keep from sobbing. He was so close, but he needed to be careful, better to be slow and safe than fast and dead. He wove through the tents, careful to avoid the sleeping men on the ground.

​He was barely thirty feet from the blue tent when a slurred voice sliced through the quiet.

“Hey! You there”

Will’s blood turned to ice.

The voice was deep and rough, sluggish with alcohol. He could hear the man stumble forward, closing the distance between them. Will’s fingers twitched, his magic flickering uselessly at his fingertips; tiny sparks that felt pathetic against an armed soldier staggering toward him.

His hands were shaking so badly they might as well have been jelly. He clenched them into fists, nails biting into his palms, but it did nothing to steady the panic clawing up his throat. He was going to die. He was actually going to die here, before he ever got to see Mike again.

​“I’m talking to you!” the soldier growled. He stank of rotten meat and old sweat, unmistakably a dirty Alpha scent. “Turn around. No one’s supposed to be near the King’s quarters this late.”

​Slowly, Will turned. He kept his chin tucked, his hood casting a deep shadow over his face, but he couldn't hide his trembling. The man stumbled forward, and the scent almost made Will vomit. Instinctively, his body betrayed him, releasing a spike of his own pheromones. He regretted it instantly; he had just revealed exactly what he was.

​The soldier let out a low whistle and leaned in even closer. “Well, look at this. You smell delicious, sweetheart. A little lost Omega who took a wrong turn, arent you?”

The alpha spat. “Show me your face.”

Will’s fingers trembled as he reached up, pulling the fabric back just enough to expose his face. The Alpha’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing as he leaned in, his breath hot and sour. Will’s heart hammered so hard he thought it might crack his ribs. Don’t recognize me. Don’t recognize me. Don’t recognize me. Please

​“What in the—” the man started, his ugly features showing confusion. Will gasped, biting his lower lip in fear. He was dead. “You’re the—” but before he could finish, another voice cut through the night.

“What the hell is happening here”

The soldier straightened immediately, though he still had a sloppy grip on Will’s arm. “Your Majesty—” he slurred, then cleared his throat as if that might sober him up. “Caught this one sneaking around your tent. Little omega says nothing, but he looks suspicious. Thought you’d want to see him before I kill him”

Will barely heard the rest.

The tent flap had opened, and there he was.

Mike stood in the doorway, the dim lantern light behind him outlining his figure in gold. He looked taller somehow, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself now, shoulders drawn tight, posture stiff. He looked exhausted, too, with dark shadows under his eyes and his mouth pressed into a thin, annoyed line, like he’d been interrupted for the hundredth time that night.

But it was him, and that was all Will could think about. All Will had thought about for three long months.

His vision blurred almost instantly, his chest tightening so hard it hurt as relief crashed over him in a dizzying wave. Mike was alive. Alive, breathing, standing right there only a few steps away. Will could practically feel his inner wolf stirring, whining and clawing at his ribs, desperate to get closer, to confirm what his eyes were already telling him.

Mike’s gaze flicked to the soldier first, still irritated, then drifted toward the hooded figure at his side.

He froze, and Will sobbed.

Mike’s eyes went wide, his brows shooting up as his gaze shifted from recognition to confusion and, finally, to pure disbelief. Will saw Mike’s nose twitch as he caught the scent; Will instinctively leaned into it, releasing more of his pheromones. He needed Mike to recognize him—to hold him, to kiss him, to save him.

​“Let him go.” Mike blurted out.

The soldier blinked. “Your Majesty?”

​“I said, let him go,” Mike repeated, his voice trembling. “I’ll deal with him myself.”

​The man hesitated, tightening his grip again as he peered down at Will. Will whined, the disgusting smell of the Alpha making him recoil. “Your Majesty, I believe he comes from Hawkins. He looks a lot like that little Prince of theirs. I thought he might be a spy.”

​Will’s heart pounded harder at those words, his fingers curling into the sleeves of his hoodie. He couldn’t stop staring at Mike. He looked thinner, paler, and the freckles across his nose stood out now more than ever. Will wanted nothing more than to press his lips against them.

​Mike was staring back, his pupils searching every inch of Will’s face before he looked away, reclaiming his firm tone.

​“Go back to your post,” he said. “I’ll handle the spy personally.”

​The soldier hesitated. “But—”

“That,” Mike said, his voice suddenly cold enough to freeze the air, “was not a suggestion.”

The man stiffened, muttered a quick apology, and finally released Will’s arm. He gave the omega one last suspicious look before turning and stumbling back to where he came from.

​Will remained frozen, staring at Mike. Hundreds of words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t even have time to blink before Mike’s hands were on his wrists, yanking him roughly inside the tent.

The moment the tent flap fell shut, Mike let go of Will like he’d been burned, making Will flinch. He paced a short, frantic circle, his hands shoved deep into his hair, tugging at the curls.

​“What the hell are you doing here, Will?” Mike’s voice was a harsh, panicked whisper. “Are you insane? This is the middle of a war camp. If that soldier had recognized you, or if anyone saw you—”

​He didn’t finish. He stood about three feet away, looking at Will in utter disbelief, his chest heaving under his tunic. “You need to leave. Right now.”

​Will didn’t answer; he just couldn’t. The adrenaline that had kept him moving through the ravine for hours finally hit a wall. He stood there, his breath coming in shallow, hitching gasps, and then his face just crumpled. He let out a loud, broken sob and covered his eyes with his hands. Seeing Mike look at him with those cold, terrified eyes was too much. His knees gave out.

“Will” Mike’s anger evaporated instantly, He lunged forward, catching Will before he hit the rug and pulling him into a crushing embrace. They hit the floor together, Mike's arms wrapping around Will’s waist while Will’s hands knotted into Mike’s tunic, pulling him close. The relief was so good Will felt delirious.

​Will sobbed violently, his entire body shaking with the weight of the journey and the terror of almost being caught, with all the agony and longing. Mike hushed him, rubbing comforting circles on his back and burying his face in Will’s neck.

​“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Mike whispered into his ear, his voice breaking. “I was just scared. I’m just so terrified for you. I don’t actually want you to leave. I never want you to leave.”

​​Mike pulled back just enough to look at him, his hands cupping Will’s face gently. He used his thumbs to brush the tears away, his gaze filled with so much care and adoration that it only made Will cry harder. It was the way Mike looked at him what always made his heart scream.

​“Stop, stop crying,” Mike murmured, though his own eyes were shimmering. He leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Will’s forehead, then his eyelids, trying to soothe the tremors still racking Will's frame. “Please, baby, I hate to see you cry”

​Will leaned into the touch, his hands coming up to grasp Mike’s wrists, holding them in place against his cheeks. “I just missed you so much” Will whispered, his voice cracking as he finally let go of the breath he’d been holding for months.

Mike let out a sob of his own, still in shock. He slid his hand to the back of Will’s neck, tilting his head up before crashing their lips together.

​Will let out a low moan, his fingers digging into the fabric of Mike’s tunic, pulling him as close as humanly possible. He had missed this so much; he had thought about kissing the Alpha again every single minute. Mike seemed to have missed him just as much, moving his head against Will's with a messy, desperate hunger. He sucked on Will’s lower lip before his tongue pressed forward, tasting him and catching the stray moisture. Will kept making needy sounds against Mike’s mouth, letting his body melt completely and his mind go blank—at least for a moment.

When Mike finally pulled back a fraction, he didn't go far. He buried his face in Will’s neck, his nose dragging against the sensitive skin near his scent gland. Suddenly, Mike’s posture stiffened. He let out a low, possessive growl that vibrated against Will’s throat.

​“You smell like him,” Mike muttered in a jealous Alpha rumble. “That soldier. His scent is all over your hoodie. It’s horrible.”

​Will let out a weak chuckle, tangling his fingers in Mike’s curls and caressing them softly. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck completely. “I know. He wouldn’t let go of me. It was disgusting. Please… fix it.”

Mike grumbled as he pressed his face hard into the crook of Wills, immediately huffing deep and aggressive breaths as he let out his pheromones out in waves. He rubbed his jaw firmly against Will’s skin, his stubble grazing the sensitive area as he marked Will with the scent of rain-drenched pine and ozone. Will absolutely loved it; he let out a soft, satisfied sigh, his fingers tightening in Mike’s hair.

​“Better,” Mike muttered against his skin, though he didn't stop. He peppered a trail of hot, biting kisses from Will's collarbone up to his ear. “You’re an idiot, Will. A complete, reckless idiot. Walking through a war zone alone? Do you have any idea what I would have done if they had killed you?”

​“I know, I know,” Will whispered, leaning his forehead against Mike’s shoulder as the Alpha’s scent finally settled the last of his panic. “But I had to, Mike. I heard about the King. I heard about your father. I’m so sorry.”

​Mike groaned and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. He let out a bitter huff, his eyes turning colder. “Don’t be. I don’t give a damn about him. He spent his whole life trying to keep us apart, and his final gift to me was a war that’s going to get us all killed. I’m not mourning him, Will.”

​He sighed, his shoulders dropping as some of the tension bled out of him. He grabbed Will’s hand, his thumb stroking over his knuckles, and led him over to the low, fur-covered bed in the corner of the tent. They sat down together, their knees knocking in the cramped space.

​“But you didn’t risk the ravine just to say you were sorry… right?” Mike said, searching his eyes, worried. “What happened?”

​Will swallowed hard; he had almost forgotten the entire reason he had come here. He gripped Mike’s hands tighter, his expression turning urgent.

​“Jane and a team are coming tonight,” he explained, his words tripping over each other. “They plan on killing you. They think that now Eldoria is in chaos, with your father gone and you not officially crowned yet, it’s the perfect time. They think it would start a civil war within Eldoria, and then Hawkins could easily overpower your people.”

​Mike listened, looking neither angry nor scared; instead, he looked as if he already knew. When Will finished, he let out a long sigh, his tongue poking his cheek from the inside.

​“Tonight?” he finally whispered, and it made Will confused as to why he wasn’t panicking.

​“Mike?” Will prompted, his voice trembling. “Did you hear me? They’re coming to kill you. We have to—we have to do something.”

​Mike finally looked back at him, but his eyes were flat, exhausted. “I heard you, Will. It’s just... it’s exactly what I would do if I were her. It’s the smart move.” He let out a dry, humorless bark of a laugh. “My father is dead, my generals are already arguing over who gets to lead the vanguard, and I’m just a boy with no leading experience, yet I’m the only thing holding the Eldorian line together. If I’m gone, the army falls apart.”

​“So what are we supposed to do?” Will’s voice broke, a fresh wave of tears blurring his vision. “If you stay here, you die. If I go back, I have to watch them celebrate your murder. I can’t—I won’t survive that, Mike.”

​Mike’s dark eyes lightened up, tears brimming in his eyes too. He looked at Will like he was the only thing left in the world that made sense. Then, without a word, he grabbed Will’s face with both hands and kissed him again.

Will let out a surprised whimper, the sound lost against Mike’s mouth, before he finally melted. He relaxed into the touch, kissing back with a desperation that mirrored Mike’s own. He wrapped his arms tightly around Mike’s neck as he was pushed backward, stumbling until his back hit the mattress.

The friction of their bodies meeting sent a jolt of pure heat through Will’s core, and he gasped. Having been apart for so long, the contact felt like a physical electric shock, warming his cheeks and ears. Will’s fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck, pulling him closer,

​“Will,” Mike breathed against his lips, a beautiful, deep sound that vibrated right through Will’s chest.

​He pulled back just enough to look at him, his thumbs brushing over Will’s cheekbones with a trembling reverence. His eyes looked lost, intense, looming all over his face with his pupils blown wide as he drank in the sight of Will beneath him. Will was flustered under the intensity, his skin flushing hot, but he didn’t look away.

“Marry me,” Mike blurted.

Will blinked, the words taking a second to land. “…What?”

Mike didn’t flinch or take it back. If anything, he leaned closer, his weight pressing Will deeper into the furs.

“I mean it,” Mike whispered, his voice cracking. “Marry me. Please”

“Mike, we’re in the middle of a war.” Will stammered, his heart doing a frantic dance against his ribs. “You’re the King. I’m a Prince of the enemy. You can’t just—”

​“That’s exactly why,” Mike interrupted, his gaze burning into Will’s. He looked desperate, his cheeks as red as Will's, his pupils so blown they were almost swallowing the dark chocolate of his irises.

​“If we’re married, the war is over,” Mike rushed out, the words tumbling over each other as he searched Will’s face for any sign of hope. “Think about it. We sign a peace treaty. You come to Eldoria as my husband, and one day Jane becomes Queen of Hawkins. It solves everything. They can’t force me to invade the home of my own husband, and Jane won’t attack the place where her brother lives. It’s the only way I can keep you safe, Will.”

​Will’s head was spinning. Mike’s gaze was so overwhelming, as if those eyes could swallow his soul right here in the dirt. Marrying Mike had always been a distant dream of his, something he’d never thought could even be an option, especially not while the world was burning around them.

​“They’ll hate us,” Will whispered, his fingers moving from the nape of Mike’s neck to rest on his cheek. His touch was light, as if Mike might shatter if he pressed too hard. “Your people won’t like to see the enemy next to you. They’ll say I bewitched you or something.”

​Mike leaned into the touch, his brows tensing as his eyes closed slightly, savoring the contact. “I don’t care what they call it. And I think they won’t mind, people don’t like war, Will. They’re tired of the blood.” He turned his head just enough to kiss the palm of Will’s hand, begging softly, “Let them call it whatever they want as long as I get to keep you. I’m the King, Will. I’m finally in charge of something, and the first thing I’m doing is choosing you.”

Will stared in shock, speechless. He couldn’t believe it was happening. Mike looked away for a second, a sudden flash of flustered boyishness crossing his face despite the gravity of it all.

​“So,” Mike said, his voice hitching as he looked back at Will, his expression shy. “Prince William… will you do me the blessing of being my husband?”

A sob of relief and disbelief caught in Will’s throat. “Yes,” he breathed, his heart soaring. “Yes, Mike. Always yes.”

​He didn’t wait for Mike to respond and pulled him down into a kiss that was deeper and more desperate than any they’d shared before, finally free of all the rules and roles that had kept them apart.

​Mike kissed back with the same sudden passion, immediately pressing his tongue against the seam of Will’s lips, silently asking for permission. Will granted it gladly, a small, needy sound escaping him as Mike tilted his head to deepen the angle. The shift made Will moan softly into the kiss, his head spinning. They were so needy, so completely desperate; they hadn’t touched in months, and now they had each other. Now, they were going to be husbands. The thought made Will want to cry, and he almost did when Mike’s cold, slender fingers finally found their way under his clothes, pressing into the warm skin of his stomach.

​Will automatically raised his arms, and Mike helped him tug the shirt over his head, never once breaking the kiss, no matter how awkward the position was. When Will was finally bare from the waist up, his own hands fumbled with Mike’s tunic, tugging at the heavy fabric with an unsatisfied hum. Mike chuckled against his lips, finally pulling back with a soft pop to catch his breath.

​“Take it off,” Will pleaded, his lips already pouting forward, chasing the next kiss.

​Mike smirked, his eyes dark and roving over Will’s pale skin in the moonlight, but he did as he was told. He stripped off the layers of his royal garb before leaning back down to pepper Will’s face with short, dizzying little pecks.

Mike shifted then, separating Will’s legs more to press his hardness firmly against him. Will gasped at the contact, his hips instinctively pushing back, seeking that friction.

​“Mike,” Will choked out, his fingers digging into Mike’s shoulders.

​Mike trailed his lips down to the sensitive dip of Will’s neck, his breath hot. “You’re so beautiful like this” he grinded down again. “So impatient.”

“Don’t tease” Will gasped. He arched his back, his skin sensitive to the point of aching. He reached down, his hands fumbling with the waistband of Mike’s underwear, his movements clumsy with the sheer need to get rid of the remaining barriers.

​Mike let out a low, shaky laugh, catching Will’s wrists for a split second to slow him down. “Slow down, Prince,” he teased, though his own eyes were dark with a hunger that suggested he was reaching his limit too. “We have all night.”

​“Asshole. I’m not going to marry you,” Will shot back, though it came more like a whine than a threat.

Mike’s smirk deepened at Will’s whine, his fingers finally relieving Will of his trousers, tossing them aside with a careless flick of his wrist. The cool air hit Will’s skin, but the heat between them was suffocating, making every inch of him ache with anticipation. Mike’s gaze raked over him, dark and possessive, before he leaned down again, his breath ghosting over Will’s collarbone.

“You’re already mine,” Mike murmured, his voice rough, his lips brushing against Will’s skin as he spoke. “Marriage is just a formality at this point.”

Will shivered, his fingers curling into the furs beneath him. He wanted to argue, to snap back, but the words died in his throat as Mike’s hand slid down his stomach, his touch feather-light, teasing. Will’s breath hitched when Mike’s fingers dipped lower, tracing the line of his hip before finally, finally, wrapping around his cock. Will let out a broken sound, his head falling back as Mike gave him a slow, deliberate stroke.

“Oh, Mike—” His voice was barely more than a whimper, his body trembling under the attention.

Mike didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned forward, capturing Will’s mouth in another searing kiss as his hand kept working, his thumb swiping over the slick head of Will’s cock. Will gasped into the kiss, his hips jerking up involuntarily, chasing the friction. Mike pulled back just enough to watch him, his eyes dark with satisfaction as Will writhed beneath his touch.

“You’re so sensitive,” Mike breathed, his voice thick with amusement and something darker, something needy. “I love it.”

Will groaned, his face burning. “You’re mean today”

Mike cut him off by suddenly releasing him, making Will whine in frustration. But before he could protest, Mike was shifting, his fingers sliding further down, past Will’s balls, teasing the tight ring of muscle there. Will’s breath stuttered, his body tensing as Mike’s fingers circled, pressed, but didn’t enter.

“Mike, please,” Will begged, his voice cracking.

Mike’s breath was hot against Will’s ear as he finally, finally pushed a finger inside. Will gasped, his back arching off the bed, his fingers digging into Mike’s shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Mike didn’t flinch. He just groaned, his own cock twitching against Will’s thigh as he worked his finger in deeper, twisting it slowly.

“Fuck,” Will choked out, his body clenching around the intrusion.

Mike didn’t give him time to adjust. He pulled his finger out just enough to add a second, pressing them both back in with a slow, deliberate push. Will’s breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, his body trembling as Mike scissored his fingers, stretching him open. The burn was intense, but the pleasure was overwhelming, especially when Mike’s free hand found Will’s cock again, stroking him in time with the movement of his fingers.

“You’re doing so good,” Mike murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “Taking me so well.”

Will could only whimper in response, his body tight with need. Mike’s fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing against that spot inside Will that made his vision white out for a second. Will’s hips jerked, his cock twitching in Mike’s grip as he let out a broken, needy sound.

Mike’s breath hitched, his own control fraying. He leaned down, biting into the soft skin of Will’s shoulder to muffle the groan that tore out of him. The sharp sting made Will gasp, but he didn’t complain, he just wrapped his legs around Mike’s waist, pulling him closer, urging him on.

“More,” Will pleaded. “One more.”

Mike added a third finger, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. Will’s body clenched around him, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as Mike stretched him, his fingers moving in a rhythm that left Will trembling and whining beneath him.

“Mike, I can’t—” Will’s voice broke, his body coiling tight, on the edge of something overwhelming.

Mike pulled his fingers out suddenly, leaving Will empty and aching. Will let out a frustrated sound, but it turned into a moan as Mike shifted, pressing their cocks together, the slick from his fingers making the slide easy, the friction perfect. He wrapped his hand around both of them, his grip tight as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Look at me,” Mike demanded, his voice rough.

Will forced his eyes open, lashes damp. His gaze locked onto Mike’s. Mike’s dark eyes were blown wide, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched Will with an intensity that made heat pool low in Will’s stomach. Every roll of Mike’s hips pressed their cocks together, the friction slick and maddening, the drag of skin against skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to Will’s core.

Will’s fingers clawed at Mike’s back, his nails digging in as his body arched into the touch. Soft, broken gasps spilled from his lips, his voice already wrecked. He felt fucked—sensitive and delirious, his skin too hot, his thoughts reduced to nothing but the heat between them. When Mike’s lips brushed his ear, the sound that tore from Will’s throat was embarrassingly needy.

“You want it, don’t you?” Mike’s voice was rough, his hips stuttering as he picked up the pace, grinding down just right. “Want your husband to fuck you?”

Will whimpered, his head falling back against the furs, his body coiling tight. “Yes—fuck—”

Mike kissed his ear softly as a reward, releasing his cock and leaving it hard and wet. He touched himself a little more to lube his cock with the precome and slick He hiked Will’s legs up, draping them over his shoulders to open him completely to him, and guided himself to the entrance he’d spent so long preparing.

​With a single, slow, and devastatingly heavy thrust, Mike buried himself inside.

Will’s eyes flew wide, his mouth falling open in a silent scream. The sheer fullness was overwhelming, a thick, searing heat that seemed to stretch him to his absolute limit. Instinctively, Will’s hand flew to his mouth, biting down on his own knuckles to stifle the sound, but Mike caught his wrist.

​“No,” Mike gravelled, his voice dropping to a guttural growl. “Bite me.”

​He shoved his forearm into Will’s face, and Will didn’t hesitate, sinking his teeth into the muscle of Mike’s arm as the first rhythmic thrusts began. Mike was relentless. He drove into Will with fast, punishing movements, pulling back almost to the entrance before pushing back in deeper, repeatedly.

The wet quick slap of their skin meeting was the only sound in the tent besides their frantic breathing. Will was losing his mind; the pleasure was too much, constant. He felt stretched, filled, and utterly possessed. Mike reached down, his fingers tangling with Will’s, and guided Will’s hand down to his own lower stomach.

​“Feel that,” Mike breathed against his neck, kissing the damp skin. “Feel what you’re taking.”

Will’s fingers pressed into his own skin, and his breath hitched. He could feel the firm, distinct shape of Mike’s length moving deep inside him, stretching the wall of his abdomen from the inside out. He gasped, rolling his eyes back. Will’s hips jerked upward, his legs locking around Mike’s waist to draw him in for every possible inch.

​“Mike—Mike, please,” Will whimpered through the teeth he had clamped on Mike's arm, his vision sparking white as he drooled. The tension in his core was coiling tighter and tighter, a spring wound to the point of snapping. He felt Mike’s body tense, his muscles turning to corded steel as he hit that one sensitive spot over and over again, the low groans in Will's ear making him shiver.

Mike let out a choked sound, finally pulling his arm back and pinning Will’s hand above his head. He leaned down, his face inches from Will’s, their sweat-slicked foreheads pressed together. Mike’s eyes were dark with a primal, focused intensity as he captured Will’s lips in a final, bruising kiss, Mike collecting all the spit from Will’s lips into his own mouth as they melded together.

Will’s chest was heaving, his skin flushed a deep, feverish red. Like every time they had sex, like every time he was close to Mike, his inner wolf wailed—needing, asking, pleading for what he had wanted since he was just a fifteen-year-old boy. He knew it was sudden, but he couldn’t help but burst the words out.

“Mark me,” Will gasped against Mike’s lips, his voice a broken, needy thread. “Mike, please... mark me. Bite me.” He was crying, his eyes dazed and unfocused, but he forced himself to look at Mike, desperate for the finality of it.

Mike’s pupils dilated until his eyes were almost entirely black, his heart thudding against Will’s ribs, his hips still moving. “Will, are you sure?”

​Will thrashed beneath him, frustrated and aching. “Mike, I’m going to marry you! Yes, I’m sure. Now mark me!”

​Mike nodded rapidly, his breath hitching. “Okay. Okay.”

​He shifted his weight, moving his mouth away from Will’s lips to the sensitive, pulsing junction where Will’s neck met his shoulder. He inhaled deeply, catching the sweet, sharp peak of Will’s scent, and then he sank his teeth in.

​Will’s head snapped back into the mattress, a high, keening cry escaping his throat. The sting was sharp, but the rush of Alpha pheromones flooding his system through the bite was better than any drug. It was the missing piece of his soul finally clicking into place. As Mike’s teeth held firm, marking him forever, Will felt his own instincts flare white-hot.

He reached up, his fingers clawing at the muscles of Mike’s back, and pulled the Alpha down toward his own mouth, his teeth sinking in with a desperate strength. He needed Mike to feel him, to carry his mark just as clearly.

​Mike let out a shattered groan, giving a few final, quick thrusts before anchoring himself deep within Will, filling him completely. At the same instant, Will’s world fractured into a thousand shards of blinding light. He let out a sob, his back arching as his release spilled hot across their joined bodies.

​The sensation of the bond sealing was more overwhelming than the physical pleasure could ever be.

​Mike collapsed forward, burying his face in the crook of Will’s neck. He stayed there for a long time, his breath hitching against the fresh mark he had just claimed, breathing in the scent of rain and pine that was now irrevocably laced with Will’s own fruity sweetness.

For several minutes, the only sound in the tent was the thudding of their hearts. Will played with Mike’s curls as his mind slowly drifted back from that buzzy headspace. Mike eventually shifted, as he pulled back just enough to pepper Will’s jawline with soft, lingering kisses.

​He moved his mouth back to the mark he had just made. The skin was red and sensitive, a permanent badge of his claim. Mike began to lick at it soothingly, his tongue tracing the indentations of his own teeth before he gave the area a tiny nip.

​Will let out a high, shaky whimper, his fingers curling into his scalp. “Mike... stop, I’m—I’m sensitive,”

“Sorry, you just smell so good” Mike murmured against his skin, though he sounded smug and proud. Will rolled his eyes; Alphas could be so stupid sometimes. Mike continued to nuzzle and kiss the mark, biting down again with just a soft pressure, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through Will’s body.

​Will squirmed beneath him, his legs twitching. “Mike! Seriously, it’s too much,” he gasped, but he ended up giggling, giddy.

He was mated—bonded to Mike for the rest of their lives. What good had he done to deserve such a thing?

​He didn’t notice he was crying until Mike started kissing the tears away with butterfly kisses.

​“Hey, hey... why are you crying?” Mike propped himself up on his elbows, his thumbs gently swiping over Will’s damp cheeks. He looked so worried, so devoted to Will, which only brought more tears to his eyes.

​“I’m just happy,” Will confessed, a wet laugh escaping his throat. He reached up, cupping Mike’s face, his palms feeling the heat of the other boy’s skin.

“I’m just so happy.”

Five months later.

The bang of the bathroom door hitting the stone wall made Will nearly jump out of his skin, his heart hammering against his chest as a draft of cold air sliced through the thick steam.

​Will let out a startled hiss, wiping a palm-full of water from his eyes. He was bone-tired—his muscles felt like lead after a grueling fourteen-hour shift in the lower districts. The war had officially ended five months ago, but the reconstruction of Eldoria was a beast of its own, and Will had spent the day hauling grain sacks and organizing medical supplies for the winter refugees. He just wanted to rinse the grime of the city off his skin and collapse into bed.

“Getting started without me? That’s treason, isn’t it?”

Will blinked through the mist at the tall, lanky figure leaning against the doorframe. Mike had already shed his heavy velvet doublet, his white undershirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, looking every bit the exhausted King he was. Still, he was as handsome as ever.

​“Shut up, Mike,” Will laughed breathlessly, leaning his head back against the wet tile. “I thought you were stuck in council meetings until midnight.”

​“I was. But I told them the King had urgent matters to attend to.” Mike wagged his eyebrows in a ridiculous attempt at flirting as he finished stripping. He stepped into the glass enclosure, the spray immediately soaking his dark curls.

​“Perfect timing,” Will muttered, reaching for the soap. “I’m literally just finishing.” He made a move to slip past him, but Mike’s arm shot out, blocking the way.

​“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Mike asked, blinking in disbelief.

​“To bed, Mike,” Will huffed, though he didn’t pull away. He looked up at his husband; Mike had grown a few inches more in the last few months, forcing Will to arch his neck just to look him in the eye. He knew Mike liked it, because every time he did, the Alpha's pheromones spiked. “I've been on my feet since dawn. I'm practically dead.”

​“Then stay here and let the water bring you back to life,” Mike murmured. He stepped closer, his large hands cupping Will’s face, his thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “God, you look so beautiful. You always do. You know that?”

​Will tried to keep his annoyed face on, but it was crumbling fast. He let out a defeated sigh and leaned into Mike’s touch. “You’re such a sap. Does the Council know their King has a bad poetry kink?”

​Mike ignored the teasing and just leaned down, catching Will’s lips in a soft kiss. It was short, just a small smack, but enough to make Will relax. “It’s not poetry, baby, it’s the truth,” Mike whispered against his lips, and Will knew he had lost.

​He trailed his fingertips from Mike’s stomach up to his chest at the same time Mike’s hands slid down to his waist, pulling him flush against his hips. Mike was already semi-hard, and Will gasped softly, his own arousal peaking as he felt the need of the weeks without touch resurfacing.

​“I missed you,” Will muttered suddenly. He blushed furiously.

​A sweet smile broke across face. He leaned in again, kissing Will gently before ducking into the crook of his neck. He inhaled deeply, pressing a lingering kiss to the mark there. Will sighed into him, his hands grounding themselves against Mike’s chest.

​“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Mike murmured, pulling him into a hug. They were each other’s safe space, and each other’s enigma they’ve already mastered and solved.

When they pulled away from the hug, Mike mindlessly captured Will’s lips with his, pinning the boy back against the wall. As their lips molded together, their hands roamed over each other's bodies. They made out lazily, sucking at their lips and drinking in each other's warmth. Their erections were rigid against their stomachs, and every bit of friction made Will let out muffled sounds into the kiss, but neither of them seemed to want to break the contact yet, even as the shower spray continued to hammer down around them.

​Finally, Mike pulled back just an inch. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to Will’s lips, a silver thread of saliva stretching between them before it snapped. It should have seemed disgusting to Will, but instead, a wave of excitement ran down his spine.

​“Turn around for me,” Mike rasped, and Will obeyed without a second thought.

​Will pressed his palms against the slick marble, his head hanging low as the water drummed against his shoulder blades. He felt Mike’s hands, slick with soap and water, slide down his sides, gripping his hips to pull him back before one hand reached down to his pulsating heat.

​Mike easily pushed his first finger inside, meeting no resistance. Will was already wet and open; he shivered, his eyes fluttering shut. Mike let out a low sound of approval.

​“You’re so loose already,” Mike whispered, pressing his chest against Will's back. He nipped at the nape of Will's neck, just above the mark, before sliding in another finger. Will let out a high-pitched whimper, his knees trembling as Mike curled his fingers inside before pumping in and out. “Have you been playing with yourself?”

​Will’s forehead thumped against the wet wall. “I—yes,” he moaned as he felt the stretch. Mike raised an eyebrow and twisted his fingers inside of Will, making him gasp out loud again.

​“Oh? When?” He pushed in a third finger, then kissed Will's nape again to soothe the sting.

​“Just before the shower,” Will moaned, starting to get lost in the pleasure. The stretch was starting to sting, but he loved it; he needed it to get out of his head.

​“What did you think about?” Mike pressed on, his long fingers digging deep inside of Will. With a small jerk, Mike hit Will’s sweet spot, wringing out a wet groan from the latter.

​“You—oh,” Will admitted, his toes curling against the tile. He was too lost in the pleasure to care about his pride. “I was thinking about you in the throne room,” he gasped, his breath hitching as Mike hit that perfect spot again. “So cold. So serious. It was... god, it was hot.”

Mike groaned lowly, and Will felt a flicker of triumph. While Mike was the one who usually showered him in praise, never letting a day pass without a dozen compliments, Will was the quieter one. He didn’t often use words to show how he felt, but when he did, he knew exactly how to rattle the Alpha.

​“Is that so?” Mike finally uttered hoarsely. He curled his fingers deeper, and Will’s entire body jerked in response.

​“Yeah,”

​Mike pressed a kiss to his shoulder, licking the stray droplets of water from his skin. He pulled out with a wet smack, Will’s hole clenching on empty air. Before he could even catch his breath, a sharp crack echoed through the small space as Mike’s palm connected with Will’s butt in a stinging smack.

Will let out a strangled moan, his cheeks burning. “Mike!” he hissed. Mike’s hand stayed where he had smacked, his fingers now caressing the reddening skin. He let out a low chuckle.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You just have such a beautiful ass.”

​​“I hate you,” Will breathed, though the trembling in his knees betrayed him. The smack had done nothing but harden his cock.

“Yeah, you look like you’re really suffering.” Mike teased.

He leaned forward, pressing Will’s chest flat against the cold marble, the contrast of the chilled stone and Mike’s burning skin making Will gasp.

​​Mike didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed Will’s hip, anchoring him in place, and pushed inside in one rough slam.

The throbbing, heavy heat of Mike’s cock stretching him open made Will’s breath catch in his throat, his fingers clawing at the slick marble for purchase, almost losing balance. Mike’s hips pressed flush against Will’s ass, his cock buried to the hilt, and Will could feel the way Mike’s muscles trembled with restraint, the way his breath hitched as he fought to stay still for just a moment.

“Fuck,” Mike groaned, his voice rough and strained, his fingers digging into Will’s hips hard enough to bruise. “You feel so good.”

Will whimpered, his body adjusting to the intrusion, the burn morphing into a deep, aching pleasure. He pushed back experimentally, testing the friction, and Mike hissed in response, his grip tightening.

“Greedy little thing,” Mike murmured, his lips brushing the shell of Will’s ear. “You want it hard, don’t you?”

Will didn’t answer with words. Instead, he arched his back, pressing his ass back against Mike’s hips, silently begging for more. Mike didn’t make him wait. He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before slamming back in with a force that made Will’s knees buckle.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the steam-filled bathroom, mingling with their scents, mingling with Will’s broken moans and Mike’s curses.

Mike set a punishing pace, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one driving Will further into the wall. He could feel Mike’s cock dragging against that perfect spot inside him with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his nerves. He was delirious, his thoughts completely shut down.

“Mike—fuck, please,” Will gasped, his voice breaking. He reached down, wrapping his hand around his own cock, stroking himself in time with Mike’s thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, his body coiled tight, teetering on the edge.

​“Fucking hell,” a low rumble elicited from Mike’s chest. He dragged his hands higher until one of them was pulling slightly on Will’s hair and the other rested on his shoulder, making him arch his back in a perfect curve.

Mike was full on thrusting and slamming his cock, burying it deep into his abused hole. Will met every thrust, pushing his ass back and moaning every time Mike his sweet spot.

Will’s eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, his mouth slack as drool slipped past his lower lip. His breath came in ragged, needy gasps—uh, uh, uh—each one punched out of him by the relentless force of Mike’s cock. He tried to match the rhythm with his own hand, stroking himself frantically, but it was useless. Mike’s pace was punishing, his strength overwhelming. Will whined, his voice cracking with desperation, his body coiled tight and trembling.

“Don’t stop,” he sobbed “Mike, don’t stop”

Mike whimpered, his hips stuttering as he drove deeper, his cock swelling inside Will. The angle was cruel, perfect, every thrust hammering against that spot that made Will’s vision white out, his toes curl. His abdomen was tight, his muscles locked, heat pooling low and heavy. He was so close, so fucking close, and Mike could feel it.

The Alpha pressed his chest back to Will’s back, licking at their bite mark and releasing more pheromones, overstimulating the omega. “Come on, baby,” he breathed, his hips now moving in shorter but faster slams. “Let go.”

Will’s body jerked, his cock throbbing. The pleasure was too much, and when Mike’s hand slid down to wrap around his throat, just enough to tilt his head back, it sent him crashing over the edge. His orgasm hit hard, his cock pulsing, come spilling over his fingers in thick, messy bursts. His hole clenched around Mike’s cock, and Mike groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he buried himself deep with a shuddering gasp.

​Mike, always caring and wanting to satisfy his husband, kept fucking into him, riding Will's waves of pleasure until he was fully drained, simultaneously chasing his own release. Will let out pained, overstimulated whimpers, but he let Mike use his body like a ragdoll until the Alpha was finally coming inside him.

​“Mhm,” Will mindlessly hummed, satisfied.

​Mike slowly finished his thrusts, staying deep to ensure he left all of his seed inside of Will.

Now Will would have to take another shower.

​​​“And then,” Will mumbled, his voice thick and sluggish with sleep, “the foreman had the nerve to tell me the grain shipment was delayed because of a clerical error. Can you believe that? I’d been staring at manifests for six hours, Mike. My brain is literally oatmeal.”

​He was sprawled across the massive bed, his wet hair dampening the silk pillows. He wore nothing but a loose robe he hadn't even bothered to tie, feeling his very bones melt into the mattress from sheer exhaustion.

​“Oatmeal,” Mike repeated with a faint smile, his thumbs digging into a particularly tight knot near Will’s heel. He sat at the foot of the bed, his own robe hanging open, working deep circles into the arch of the foot resting in his lap.

​“Ow—yeah, right there. Oatmeal,” Will hissed, his toes curling. “I told him if the grain wasn’t in the silos by sunset, I’d have the Council pull his permit. I was trying to be firm, you know? Like you. But I don’t think he was intimidated.”

​“Well, I’m sure you sounded terrifying,” Mike comforted him, moving his hands up to knead the tension out of Will’s calf. “You’re a natural leader, believe it or not.”

​“I guess,” Will let out a long, dramatic sigh, his head lolling to the side.

​He heard Mike’s frown in his voice. “You are a good leader, okay? Don’t put yourself down,” Mike scolded, smoothing out a particularly stubborn muscle.

​Will made a soft, unconvinced noise, his eyes fluttering shut. The room fell silent, save for the crackle of the hearth and the rhythmic slide of Mike’s palms against his skin. “I just want them to have enough food for the winter. If the grain is late, prices go up, and then the lower districts...” He trailed off, his thoughts tangling like a ball of yarn. “I’m rambling again. I'm sorry. We finally have time together and I’m talking to you about grain.”

​“I’d listen to you talk about grain for the rest of my life if it meant being right here,” Mike said. His voice dropped into that low, honeyed register that always made the butterflies in Will’s stomach dance.

He shifted his weight, looking down at the slender, tan foot in his hands. Driven by a surge of pure, ridiculous affection, Mike leaned down and pressed a loud, lingering kiss right to the center of Will’s arch.

​Will’s eyes snapped open and he let out a strangled, high-pitched squawk, his leg jerking back instinctively. “Oh my god! Mike! You are actually nasty! Put that down!”

​Mike let out a bark of laughter, easily catching Will’s ankle before he could scramble away. He looked up with a wicked glint in his dark eyes. “What? I’m expressing my appreciation for your hard work.”

​“By kissing my foot? We were literally just on the shower floor!” Will shrieked, though a giggle was already bubbling up in his chest. He tried to shove Mike away with his free foot, but Mike just leaned into it, rolling his eyes dramatically.

​“I washed you myself, Will! I know exactly where those feet have been. They’ve been in the palace, in the bath, and now they’re in my lap. I think I can handle it." Mike crawled further up the bed, his hands sliding up Will's thighs as he hovered over him with a playful grin. “And don’t act like it’s the first time I’ve kissed your feet.”

“You’re still a freak!” Will laughed, the sound muffled as he tried to bury his flaming face in the damp pillow. He made a weak attempt to push Mike’s chest away, but his arms felt like lead, and Mike didn't budge an inch.

​“I’m a freak for you!” Mike countered. He settled his weight over Will, careful not to crush him, and braced himself on his elbows. “I love kissing you—doesn’t matter if it’s your lips or your feet. You understand that? I love you, Will.”

​Will’s breath hitched at the words. Every time he heard them from his husband’s lips, he remembered the first time they’d said them to each other. It had happened just as Will had requested, back when they had stopped the war by marrying one another. It hadn't been easy, coming up with such a crazy idea and begging their respective sides to understand, but it had worked. And here they were: in love, mated, and married.

​​Will finally peeked out from behind the pillow, his eyes soft and shimmering in the firelight. Mike was staring down at him, his expression so beautiful and his attention so fixed on Will that it made his heart ache.

​“I love you, too,” Will whispered, the words finally breaking through the tired haze of his mind. “So much,” he added shyly.

Mike didn’t say anything back, he didn’t have to, the love in his eyes revealed more than a hundred words ever could. He let out a soft hum and buried his face into the crook of Will’s neck, dragging his nose firmly along the sensitive line of Will’s jaw.

​Will smiled, tilting his head back to expose more skin and offering Mike better access. “Scent me, please,” he whispered into his ear, desperate for the comfort of his favorite smell. Mike just nodded, his movements grounding and gentle as he rooted into him. He pressed their flushed cheeks together, his nose and the curve of his lips dragging against Will’s scent gland.

​A long exhale escaped Will’s lips, his fingers curling weakly into the silk of Mike’s robe. He turned his head, burying his face into the junction of Mike’s shoulder to return the gesture. He nuzzled back with equal fervor, his forehead and nose sliding against Mike’s collarbone to coat him in a bright, citrusy layer of sun-ripened oranges.

​They didn’t stop until the smell of the room died out completely. Everything was replaced by their own thick, delicious mix: the sweetness of Will’s skin bleeding into Mike’s deep, earthy musk of rain-drenched wood.

Mike’s movements eventually slowed, his head growing heavier against Will’s chest. His breathing leveled out into the steady cadence of sleep, though his nose remained pressed firmly against Will's skin as if he were guarding him even in his dreams.

​Will gave one last soft rub of his cheek against Mike’s temple, his own eyes finally sliding shut. Wrapped in the suffocatingly sweet, woody cloud of their combined pheromones, he let his mind go dark, finally falling into a deep, effortless sleep in his husband's arms.