My eyes fluttered open to soft light filtering through silk-veiled windows, the hum fading to a gentle throb in my core. What happened to me? I was... right, I fainted. Did I differentiate? Why am feeling different?
The ceremony dais felt like a cloud beneath me—wait, no, now I was propped on velvet cushions in a private solar, scent of fresh blooms heavy in the air. Mom stood before me, her beautiful face beaming with teary pride, auburn hair glowing in the afternoon sun.
"Welcome back, my darling," she said softly, clasping my hands. "Congratulations—you've differentiated. An Omega, just like me. Perfect and strong."
What the fuck?!
I blinked, sitting up gingerly. Omega? Me? The gland on my neck tingled, releasing faint sweet notes—ripe peaches and warm vanilla.
What the hell?
Mom, with the help of the maids, moved me to my private chambers while I was out—a lavish space with polished rosewood furnishings gleaming under cascading crystal chandeliers that scattered rainbows across silk-draped walls.
A small dining table sat ready, laden with light things—chilled bowls of crystal fruit ices shimmering like frozen jewels, steaming cups of petal-infused teas releasing calming lavender mists, and delicate pastries dusted with iridescent sugar that mimicked heat-suppressing herbs, their buttery scent teasing my heightened senses.
What the heck? Do they think that I am some weak-assed omega?
But the real assault? My outfit. Servants had forced me into full lacy finery, every piece a frilly cage designed to flaunt Omega allure. The sheer blouse was gossamer silk chiffon, pale lavender with intricate lace embroidery blooming like vines across the high collar and ruffled sleeves that tickled my arms like whispering fingers, semi-transparent panels hinting at lean muscles beneath.
Delicate silk pants clung like to my thighs—flowing wide at the hems but tailored tight through the thighs and calves in shimmering pearl-white, edged with subtle silver threading that caught the light with every shift.
A diamond necklace draped heavy and cool around my throat, its teardrop pendant nestling in the hollow of my collarbone, facets sparkling fire with each breath, paired with matching earrings that dangled like icy chimes against my lobes.
Worst of all—my long silver hair swept into an elaborate high ponytail, bound by a wide satin ribbon in matching lavender that trailed down my back, crowned by a huge blooming orchid—its velvet petals a vivid crimson, brushing my cheek mockingly with a faint, heady perfume.
I tugged at the necklace, scowling, diamonds clinking softly. Lacy bullshit? I'd shank someone in this—trip over the ruffles mid-stab. But Mom's hopeful eyes pinned me, sparkling with maternal joy. "You look stunning, my flower. The empire will adore their princess."
Princess?! I'm still a man! The word echoed from Mom's praise, slamming home the ABO gender rules I'd half-forgotten in the haze.
Omegas were considered female here—designated as such post-presentation, titles shifting to daughter, sister, princess. Alphas stayed male. Pronouns held, but society's gaze? It stripped you bare.
I lurched to the full-length mirror across the chamber, diamond necklace swinging, lace rustling annoyingly. Staring back wasn't me. All of my muscles—vanished—had softened overnight, body curving subtly feminine: narrower waist, smoother lines, hips flaring just enough under the silk pants.
Silver hair framed a face even more androgynous now, olive eyes wide with alien softness, orchid blooming like a taunt.
"What happened to me?!" I snarled, hands flexing—still strong, but... different.
Mom's expression shifted to concern. She turned sharply to the cluster of maids hovering by the door, their eyes averted. "All of you, out. Now." They curtsied silently and filed away, door clicking shut.
"Flower, why are you so sad?" she asked gently, gliding closer, vanilla scent wrapping comfortingly.
"Mom! Don't call me that! I... my muscles..." I gestured wildly at the mirror, voice cracking. Gone soft.
"I am waiting, flower."
"Mom, I look soft... weak..."
"Are you sad that you became an Omega?" Her tone was patient, knowing.
"Of course!" Heat flushed my cheeks/
"Why? Is it because Omegas are weak? Do you think I'm weak?" Mom stepped beside me; her own graceful form poised like a coiled spring—proof in every line.
"No, you're not," I admitted, deflating. Her magic lessons had shown fire beneath the softness.
"Flower," she said firmly, turning me to face her, hands on my shoulders. "Omegas have a lot of disadvantages—yes, the heats, the scents that draw predators, the court games that paint us fragile."
"Then, Mom... I will be considered weak too."
"But we have a lot of strengths too."
"Strengths?"
"Intuition sharper than any blade, magic that bends people, bonds that topple empires. I wove the palace wards myself—unbreakable. You? With your aptitude... you'll be unstoppable. Omega doesn't mean weak. It means dangerous in ways Alphas can't touch."
"Mom, but won't Dad be sad?" I asked, glancing at the door as if Dad might storm in any second. Omega prince—princess—threw every succession plan into chaos.
Mom chuckled softly, a melodic sound that eased the knot in my chest, her fingers gently adjusting the orchid in my ribbon-tied hair. "She's happy, flower. A daughter is easier than a son—less pressure. Now, she would be very protective of you. Won't even yell at you, my naughty daughter."
"Hey!" I protested, swatting her hand away playfully, though the lace sleeve fluttered ridiculously. Easier? Try telling that to the empire, and the nobles.
Her eyes sparkled with warmth, pulling me into a loose embrace. "It doesn't matter if you're Alpha or Omega. You're ours—our child, my heart."
Suddenly, an idea entered my mind.
"Mom, if I am omega... can I break the engagement?"
Mom smiled, "Flower, are you still thinking of that? Your father will not agree." She had a sad smile on her face.
"Talk to her then," I whined.
"Fine, I will talk to her," Mom sighed. I knew that Mom will listen to me!
"Thank you, Mom! I love you!"
"You are a very naughty child."
"Why?"
"You are using this as an excuse to break your engagement."
I pouted, "I don't to get married. Besides, my fiancée is an omega. So, no marriage."
"Are you sure?"