☆*:.｡. o*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*·.*:.｡.･*o .｡.:*☆
The North was used to storms, but the one currently raging inside the elite dormitory of the Military Academy was of a different nature. The air in the hallway had become so thick with Aiden's pheromones that the guards had been forced to wear specialized masks usually reserved for chemical leaks. The scent was no longer just pine, it had matured into something primal—dark cedar, scorched stone, and a heavy, musk laden ozone that signaled the arrival of a true Alpha.
Inside the room, the world had shrunk to the size of a single, sweat soaked bed.
Aiden was no longer sleeping. He had drifted out of the coma like state into a waking nightmare of sensory overload. His first Alpha heat was peaking, and because his lineage was a triple threat of ancient bloodlines, the biological demand was more violent than any cadet in history had ever recorded.
He was curled into a tight ball, his skin flushed a deep, feverish crimson. His throat felt like he had swallowed hot water , but the true epicenter of his suffering was lower.
The tightness he had felt earlier had transformed into a localized explosion of pressure. His hardened part was so swollen and sensitive that even the friction of his silk undershorts felt like a blade. Every time he shifted, every time a stray thought of a soft, strawberry scented boy crossed his mind, his body would jerk and twitch uncontrollably.
He reached down with a trembling hand, his fingers grazing the area through the fabric. The moment his skin made contact, a jolt of electricity shot up his spine, making his back arch and a strangled cry escape his throat.
"I'm dying," Aiden wheezed, his eyes glazed and unfocused. "This is it. My heart is moving to my stomach and it's going to explode."
He didn't understand the biology of an Alpha's release. To him, the intense thumping and the slick, pheromonal fluid were signs of a failing organ. He was twelve, and despite his tactical genius, he was utterly illiterate in the language of his own maturing body.
As the pressure built to an unbearable crescendo, Aiden felt a wave of genuine, soul deep terror. He truly believed his life was ending in this locked room, surrounded by the smell of a forest fire.
With what he thought were his final breaths, the Crown Prince of the North began to pray.
"Great Ancestors... forgive me," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry I got in so many fights at the Academy. I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother to the twins and to Celine. I'm sorry I didn't get to see Lorcan one last time."
He squeezed his eyes shut, tears of frustration and heat delirium leaking out. "Please take my soul to the high peaks. Don't let Papa see me like this. Tell him I died... I died in battle. Not... not like this."
He was a warrior prince preparing for the afterlife, unaware that he was simply experiencing the knotting phase of a high tier Alpha heat. He felt the fluid dripping again—the slick, clear concentrate of his pheromones—and he let out a sob of pure shame.
"I'm leaking like a child...my soul is leaking out of me," he mourned, his neck pulsing a vivid, bruised purple as his scent gland worked overtime. "I'm sorry, Papa. I'm so sorry."
While Aiden was preparing for a death that was actually an awakening, Lorcan was facing a much more grounded nightmare.
His plan to flee the Southern Isles had been short lived. He had barely made it to the royal stables, the stolen tunic clutched to his chest, when the palace guards—acting on the Queen's direct orders—intercepted him.
He was dragged back to the throne room, where Queen Lilia stood like a statue of judgement.
"A boat, Lorcan? You thought you could navigate the Great Divide on a fishing skiff?" She stepped down from the dais, her heels clicking like the ticking of a doomsday clock. "This is a stupid, childish thing. You are a Prince, not a runaway servant."
"I have to go to him!" Lorcan shouted, his usual Southern poise shattered. "He's hurting! I can feel it! He's in pain, Mother!"
"He is in his heat, you fool!" Lilia snapped, her voice echoing through the vaulted ceiling. "He is becoming an Alpha. And you will stay here and become the Omega the South requires. You will not throw your life away for a boy who hasn't even seen his thirteenth winter."
She signaled the guards. "Lock him in the High Tower. No one enters. No one leaves. And if I find that Northern rag he's been hiding, I will burn it in front of him."
Lorcan was dragged away, his heart screaming in sync with the pulse he felt across the ocean. He was trapped in a cage of gold, while his soulmate was a hundred miles away, praying for his soul to go to heaven because his body was too powerful for his mind to handle.
Back at the Academy, the door finally groaned. Arion had arrived.
The King of the North didn't wait for a key. He sensed the death prayer of his son through their blood bond. With a single, concentrated kick, the heavy oak door shattered, and Arion stepped into the room, his own Alpha aura acting as a shield against the suffocating pressure of Aiden's heat.
He saw his son—sweaty, trembling, and weeping—curled on the floor.
"Aiden!" Arion reached him in two strides, pulling the boy into his arms.
"Papa?" Aiden looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "Am I... am I a ghost yet? Did my soul leave? It hurts so much, Papa. My body is breaking. I'm dying so young, I'm sorry I should have listened to you."
Arion felt the heat radiating off his son and saw the accidents on his trousers. A look of profound, heartbreaking pity crossed the King's face. He realized then that in his haste to make Aiden a soldier, he had forgotten to teach him how to be a man and how an alpha body develops.
"You're not dying, Aiden," Arion said, his voice a deep, comforting rumble as he tucked Aiden's head under his chin. "You're just waking up. You're an Alpha, my son. The strongest I've ever seen."
"But the... the leaking... and the hardness…, it is so embarrassing " Aiden sobbed.
"It's the gift and the curse of our blood," Arion whispered, signaling for the healers to bring the suppressants. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."
As the healers moved in, Aiden finally began to lose consciousness, the fire in his blood subsiding under his father's steady hand.
I'm such an embarrassment.