(Fictional a/b/o Elizabethan era-ish au)
Being an omega and the fifth in line for the title, the young lord of Chambriath was forced to believe that being wedded to the man of his father's choice and bearing his children was the only purpose of Har...
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"Louis?" Harry screams. He has shifted back into his human form, aware of just how dense the forest has gotten, just how far he has gotten into the forest. He feels his heart thunder, his skin burning with fearfulness. His surroundings are dark, ancient trees tall and kissing the sky, mist covering their tops. The wind whistles maniacally, evil as it creeps onto him and teases him with quietness in a split second.
"My prince." He bellows, eyes aching to meet the blue of his alpha, the hair on his skin raising as the wind stabs his naked miles of skin. "Lou?" His voice grows smaller with the realisation that his efforts are of no avail, that his voice won't reach Louis.
Fright eclipses his heart.
Instinctually, Harry wraps his arms around his belly, hiding it from the eyes of the unknown, protecting his pup. Harry is no fool, he has heard about the legends of Old Forest, has been hearing them since he arrived at Yenshai. What is a mere myth to the world outside, rests in the shadows of the forest, and when it wakes from hunger, it walks the woodland with quietness, never letting the prey know its presence.
He shivers, the cold unbearable. Every crush of a leaf is like a warning to the trembling omega, every wind a slap to his face. He continues calling out for Louis, pleading with the goddess above that, by some miracle, Louis finds him. But he remains lost, every turn painfully identical, yet completely contrasting from the minute before.
Harry curls himself against a tree, his body numb with the cold, and he fights with everything within himself to not shut his eyes, and allow winter to win. It is onerous, and as time passes, the final traces of warmth dropping, Harry slips away, still protecting his belly as his face touches the ground, hoping that his pup is safe, praying that Louis is somewhere near.
☽
"The Prince's bride," a woman's voice.
"Are you certain?" Another woman, Harry's mind registers. Two women are aware of Harry's status. Harry remains unmoving, knowing better than to make his consciousness known.
"He reeks of him, even got his pup inside of him," he feels a glacial hand on his belly, the touch almost like a corpse's. And then he registers the lack of their scent. "Didn't they teach you anything, Omega?" The woman says, her hand still on his belly. Harry stiffens, his heartbeat picking up. "Did they not teach you that it's intrusive of one to pry on someone else's conversation?" The voice speaks right against his ear.
They are not breathing, he feels nothing but their lack of warmth.
Aghast, Harry stirs, his hands shaking as he finds them prying the frigid hand away from his belly. He realises that he is not in the forest anymore, but rather under a shed, thick fur covering his body, providing him with the warmth he has been craving. Sitting up, his eyes fall on the two figures, staring at him as if he does not belong there, that he isn't from their world.
