◆ ELYON ◆

There is no other music quite as beautiful as an Omega's moans. The sounds of wet skin slapping wet skin, coupled with the whimpers and desperate pleas reverberating throughout the chamber, send shivers down to my very core.

It's a song, wild and raw, and I dance along with it. Dance to the music Irune and I have created. I revel in the sensations: hands roughly gripping my hips, a body pulling desperately against my own, mouths and tongues needing to be claimed.

I am lost, desperate, clambering through tides of lust and need. Irune squirms beneath me, begging for more as his slick, pulsing heat wraps tight around my cock, like a vortex of all-consuming rapture. There is no better feeling in the world than to be desired—to be needed.

With Irune, all my carnal desires are bared. We could fuck with complete abandon. Doing it in the public bath where anyone could see, anyone could hear, is a perfect example of this.

Irune loosens his grip on my hips so he could wrap his arms around my back, burying his face against my neck as he pushes his hips forward, drawing me into him even deeper. I reach between us and take his pretty cock in my hand, stroking it up and down to the rhythm of my thrusts. He fixes his gaze on mine, eyes dark and filled with passion, lips slightly apart as he takes harsh breaths.

I cover his mouth with my hand to stifle his moans. "Hush, darling," I whisper. "Much as I enjoy hearing you love this, I need you to keep it down."

I glance over my shoulder. Within these walls, we are never truly alone. Ylandar, my steward, is probably standing just right outside the baths, waiting, listening, pretending to have something better to do.

Irune tugs my hand away and shoots me an impatient glare. "Let them hear us. Let the whole palace hear for all I care." He slips a hand down my buttocks, pushing me back against him. "I need your knot. Need it inside me," he begs, voice hot and hoarse against my ear. His face contorts in a kind of blissed-out pleasure that looks like pain.

The honeyed scent of his slick overwhelms me. There goes the obedient Omega, lost in his own heat and raw desire. It is so beautiful to have Irune like this, but gods above, he wanted it too.

I ignore his pleas. I always do. Instead, I pull out, grab his wrist and twist him around so he's pressed up against the wall. And then, I enter him again, angling my hips and grinding into him hard, stroking his cock until he cries out, his whole body spasming as ropes of his thick, warm essence coat my hand.

I can't hold out much longer. I struggle to slow my pace to the spasms and quivers of Irune's ass, allowing him to relish in the pleasure as long as I can. I grab onto the golden chain around his waist and proceed to slide in and out of him.

I have to take a breath. The sensations are so high, so good. His tight heat clenches around me like a velvet fist, his Omega fluids trickling down my balls.

As Irune comes out of his haze, I pick up my pace, grinding into him as that sweet tingle starts in the base of my spine. The Omega's heady scent floods my senses and I growl, my cock throbbing inside. The Alpha within me is howling, begging to be freed. The feral impulse to mount, to breed and knot, rages through me. I start to pull back before it takes over, but Irune clamps around me.

"Irune, no," I hiss. "I have to pull out now."

Irune shakes his head in defiance, clamping a hand on my hip to hold me still. "Don't stop. Can't you see? I need it."

The base of my cock starts to thicken, my whole shaft tingling as I swell more. I rest my forehead on Irune's shoulder. "Irune, please. Any later and I won't be able to," I say through gritted teeth. The urge to bite down and mark this Omega is tortuously overpowering.

"You promised," Irune retorts. "It's now or never. I want your knot, Elyon. Now."

My heart starts racing even more, blood heating to a hellish temperature from the Omega's words.

Irune wants my knot. The Alpha in me is inflamed.

But I refuse to succumb to these primal instincts.

I clench my teeth, my vision going white as I pull out of Irune and roared, coming in spurts across his naked back. I grab my cock as the knot thickens, the haze of lust blinding me to everything but the Alpha's carnal need to wedge into Irune and seed him. The pleasure is incomparable, the most potent there is.

But it always demands a price. One I am not willing to pay.

As I slowly come down off the precipice of my orgasm, I hear the sigh of utter dismay, of Irune's slight whimper. A broken, pitiful sound.

It's always the final song to our wild little dance, always ending with his back to me, so I won't have to look in his eyes and see the pain and disappointment.

I have never knotted anyone before, not even Irune, the only Omega bedmate I have chosen to keep. This man has awakened the dark desires in me I did not know I had. But despite our connection, the raw attraction between us, I cannot bring myself to make this precious Omega my mate.

Something in me remains an empty vessel, waiting to be filled. I wish it were Irune who could fill that void. Things would be so simple. So easy. This man is headstrong, knows his place in the world—a highborn Omega who can take the world by storm if he puts his mind and heart to it. Every bit the perfect consort.

But it's not him. Why could it not be Irune?

Perhaps, I'm looking at this the wrong way. Or maybe...maybe even after all this time, it's still him?

"They're coming." Irune's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze outside the stained-glass window. Bright-red fireworks burst across the sky, shooting upwards to signal the arrival of the royal entourage.

I sigh as I dip back into the tub. "They're leaving the Sun Manor. They'll be here in an hour," I say as I cup water between both hands and bring it to my face. "You need to go."

"Gods above, Elyon," Irune hisses through his teeth. "You think you could just fuck me and throw me out like a cheap whore?"

Whatever I was trying to say gets caught in my throat. His outburst is unexpected, catching me off-guard.

There's a large splash behind me as Irune plunges into the water. "We can't keep doing this. This needs to stop." This time, there's an acidity to his voice. A mockery of all that he and I are. "I cannot keep doing this with you. For you. I have waited long enough. When are you going to make me your betrothed?"

There it is, the quiet desperation rearing its ugly head. Guilt knots in my belly, my throat closing up tight. I am well aware I am being unfair to this man.

Fucking is easy. We've been playing this game for two years. But for Irune tus-Khriskhana, this is more than just the satisfaction of our own desires.

A heavy silence settles between us, broken only by the low sound of rippling water.

As soon as I open my mouth, everything will come spilling out: I cannot give you what you want. I am not prepared to start anything with you. That is the answer, plain and simple. But of course, it's not what Irune wants to hear. There will always be that failure to seek an answer that would satisfy him.

But as always, Irune will choose to continue doing this dance with me, over and over again.

Having sensed my discomfort, he slips his arms around my waist from behind, his bare chest pressing against my back, face nuzzling my hair. "Perhaps I spoke too soon," he relents. "Forgive me, my prince. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Here is the usual apology, one I never know what to say back. I close my eyes and my jaw tightens. "There's nothing to forgive. I'm the one who should apologize." I unpeel his arms and turn to face him. "Irune... suppose we should—"

He cuts off my words as he backs me up against the edge of the tub and kisses me long and deep. But before I could respond, he breaks the kiss and bites my lower lip, drawing out a groan from me. It's not a gentle nibble. Like the kiss itself, there's anguish about the bite. He bites me hard enough to leave a faint taste of blood in my mouth.

He rises up as I wipe the blood off with the back of my hand. "Irune, perhaps we should...we should put some distance between us. For now," I suggest. It's now or never.

Irune must think me a fool, and I don't blame him. He just blinks a few times, unimpressed by my declaration.

A desperate chuckle bubbles from his lips. "You're in one of your moods again. It's just nerves, my prince," he quips, but there is an edge in his voice. He steps out of the tub, picks up the white silk robe from the floor and draws it back around him, barely obscuring his nakedness. "Once the wedding is over, everything will return to normal." He twists his hair to squeeze water out of it. "After so many years, you will finally meet him again. This time, as your blood-brother. Isn't that exciting?" He turns around to give me a suggestive look over his shoulder, his green eyes glimmering with a challenge.

"Your Highness," Ylandar's voice interjects, breaking the moment between us. He steps out from behind the wall separating the privy chamber from the baths, face covered with an opaque veil. He clasps his hands together and bows. "Forgive my intrusion, but the royal entourage will arrive soon. You must get dressed and prepare to join the welcoming assemblage."

"Give me a moment. I'm still not..." I gesture helplessly to my nether region before waving my steward off.

Ylandar pauses, trying to get my meaning. When realization dawns on him, he clears his throat and bows, leaving the chamber without another word.

"I told you we had an audience." I chuckle as I wade towards the edge of the tub where Irune stands. I look up at him and say, "I will see you at the banquet tonight."

Irune grins as he crouches down and leans close to my ear. "And after, yes?" he murmurs. "Same place. If you fail to show up, I shall come to your chamber."

My lips quirk up and I smile in return. "Don't threaten me with a good time," I tease, gently biting his earlobe. And before he could respond, I add, "Now go get dressed. I will see you tonight."

Irune pouts as I move to the opposite end of the tub, putting a distance between us. He turns to wave a resigned farewell as he heads for the door, walking backwards so he can continue to gaze at me and say thank you.

Once he's gone, a fresh wave of guilt and regret washes over me.

"Elyon vus-Cardan... you insufferable idiot." I curse under my breath as I lean my head against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut.

Over the next several minutes, I wait for the mating knot to subside. And nothing else will make it shrink faster than contemplating this relationship—whatever this is between me and Irune.

Two years of fruitless, mindless fucking. And that is what I am right now. Mindless.

Maybe I have allowed my primal instincts to take over me, after all.

 

◆

 

Here is the truth: My brother, Ettrian, was to be betrothed to Irune, or to any of his elder Khriskhana brothers. But the man is a hopeless romantic, something I always believed to be his only weakness.

In this world where political ties hold more weight than one's personal feelings, love can only be found in people who choose weakness over power. Left unchecked and given over to its own prowess, it can be weaponized, weakening men and stopping them from realizing their true potential.

But even when we were still young, I could see the love in my brother's eyes, clear as day. And they were always on the prince regent, Vamir vus-Ilialana.

It would be hilariously funny if it were not pitiful.

For many years, Ettrian had refused to initiate courtship, denied a great many marriage proposals. My Omega father, the dowager king-consort Eroan, had once threatened to deny him the throne, but Ettrian had not so much as batted an eye.

He wanted the Ilialana prince. Waited for him quietly and patiently. It's a passion that had been the bane of our Omega father's life.

And then, the border war happened. House Ilialana had been one of the smallest royal families in the Glass Empire. A strange blood sickness had plagued them for many years, further dwindling their numbers. And now, with House Khriskhana setting its sight on their rich deuklodite deposit, the kingdom of Ilialana is almost on its knees.

Ettrian took it as his opportunity. He had not even stalled. A day after King Beluar Ilialana's funeral, he asked Vamir for his hand in marriage. I had never seen my Omega father so livid.

Vamir's acceptance of my brother's marriage proposal did not come as a surprise either. It only demonstrated how important political ties were, especially to a royal family on the brink of collapse.

The truth is blinding in its intensity, but can Ettrian even see it? He waited and waited, until finally, he got what he wanted. Perhaps Vamir did, too. The irony of the situation had not escaped me.

Yes, I would laugh if it were not my brother—the Summer King himself—being blinded by love. The fear of it, the consequences of what could happen to him and to the kingdom, is precisely the reason I do not want to get involved in a one-sided love affair. For Irune and I, it could probably be worse—a loveless marriage merely bound by filial duties and obligations.

I do not want that for myself. For Irune who deserves more, deserves someone better and worthy of his love.

I could only wish my brother the best. And one day, maybe for myself, too.

 

◆

 

By the time I got dressed, the royal entourage had already arrived at the main courtyard. Peals of cheers and laughter echoed between the high walls of the palace, people rushing about to catch a glimpse of the newcomer.

I linger at the back of the entrance hall, taking in the scene before me. There, surrounded by soldiers and veiled servants, are my brother and his betrothed.

I watch as Ettrian breaks the embrace, takes Vamir's hands and kisses them, his eyes never leaving the other's. In the midst of the crowd, they talk between themselves, lost in their own world, seemingly uncaring of their surroundings. Never before have I seen my brother filled with such great joy.

"Would you look at those clothes." A contemptible voice emerges from behind me. The dowager king-consort walks up beside me with a reproachful look on his face, glaring at the prince regent with a steely gaze. He leans close to me, cups a hand over his mouth and whispers, "Is that a drape he's wearing? It leaves nothing to the imagination. What utter depravity."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I held my Omega father firmly by the arm. "Father, it is House Ilialana's traditional betrothal outfit," I explain. "Not as shockingly outlandish as House Montagor's...loincloth."

I fix my gaze upon my brother's betrothed. It had been close to eight years since I had seen him last, and he has changed considerably since then.

From where I stand, I could only see one side of the prince regent's face. Like most Omegas, he has elegant features about him. The precious baby fat had all but disappeared, leaving a finely chiseled face, exquisite in its lines and contours that he seemed ethereal, an otherworldly beauty that seemed more like a fae than a man made of flesh and bone. Even in the shade, I could see his freckles standing out against his pale face, now glowing a flush of pink from the desert heat. His hair had grown long nearly waist-length, swept down in a blazing russet tide that rippled in a soft, natural wave; tousled with precious gems dotted randomly.

In this regard, I could not find fault with my brother's choice. Vamir vus-Ilialana is indeed a beauty to behold.

"Ours has always been the best," my father comments, and I nearly forget what we had been discussing until he gestures to my brother's outfit. "And the Khriskhanas, of course. Just look at Irune. My word, that boy could dress."

I made a noncommittal grunt. Surely this is an opening to an age-old subject I do not wish to discuss with him. Not now, or ever.

"Where is he, anyway?" My father looks left and right, searching for Irune in the crowd. And then, he turns to me, eyes narrowing into a confused frown. "Why is he not with you? Now could not be a more perfect time to show everyone you have already chosen your mate."

My eye twitches. "Father, I have not discussed such things with Irune," I deadpan through gritted teeth.

"Not yet, you mean," he retorts. "But you should, soon. The boy is at his prime. And by the Old Gods, Elyon, he is Khriskhana. Let not the gold slip out of your grasp." He slides his gaze back to my brother and his bridegroom, and scoffs. "I beg of you, Elyon. Do not be like your brother."

My father slips out of my grasp as he steps out to join the crowd now moving into the entrance hallway, a forced smile plastered on his face. The spell between Ettrian and Vamir breaks. The smiles sober into thoughtfulness as Ettrian squares his shoulders and looks at the crowd, and then to our father.

In the flurry of activities, I am confident nobody would know I had slipped away. I get two steps back to the west-wing hallway when Ettrian finally notices my presence, smiling in my direction.

"Elyon, don't be a spoilsport. Come over here!" my brother calls out, raising his voice over the crowd's excited chatter. And then, all eyes are on me.

Vamir had his back to me then, but when he turns around and I catch his gaze, I expected at least a flicker of a smile, a wave, a look of recognition.

Instead, his face falls, going paler than he already is, and his shoulders stiffen. I freeze in my tracks.

The look in his green and gold speckled eyes harden in a mixture of fear, anger, and a tinge of regret. And then, he drops his gaze, seeming to take a sudden interest in the floor.

Ettrian, oblivious to what had just passed between us, grabs my arm and pulls me toward Vamir, so now we come face to face. Still not meeting my eye, the prince regent bows curtly and says in a shaky and barely audible voice, "It's...It's good to see you again."

I watch as Vamir folds unto himself, lowering his head as the lump in his throat bobs up and down. A hand absently rubs at his left arm. The part of him I know has a scar, stretched like a tree root along the inside of his arm.

A part of him that's marred with the past I could no longer take back.

Of course. I am not forgiven. He had not forgotten my past transgressions.

Hurt flooded through me, exposing a pain I had not realized I felt. For some reason, that hurts me more than this reality before me. That my brother is about to marry the man I believed to be my fated mate.

 

◆◆◆

Glossary of Terms:

'tus-' - prefix added to the family name of a third and succeeding sons