Lord Voldemort is a well-known alpha, famous because of his lust for power. Draco Malfoy, the son of one of the Dark Lord's followers: Lucius, is an omega. The Malfoy Lord, ashamed of a Omega son, has done everything in his power to keep his son's s...
Previously on When The Devil Falls - With a satisfied sigh, Draco nuzzled closer to Marvolo, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over his mate's skin. Marvolo's arms wrapped protectively around Draco, holding him close in a gesture of love and devotion.
As the days passed and Draco's heat continued to envelop them in a haze of passion and desire, Marvolo made the decision to postpone his delegation meetings further, opting instead to spend the remainder of Draco's heat by his side. The look of joy that lit up Draco's face at the news was all the confirmation Marvolo needed that he had made the right choice.
Their first day together was spent simply enjoying each other's company, savouring the intimacy of their bond as they lounged in bed, tangled in each other's arms.
As the hours stretched into days, Draco and Marvolo found themselves immersed in each other's worlds, their conversations ranging from the mundane to the profound. They laughed together, shared stories from their past, and dreamed of the future they hoped to build together.
Each night, as they lay together in bed, their bodies intertwined in the passionate act of making love.
Soon, as every good thing comes to an end, their week together did so as well.
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5 weeks had passed since Marvolo's departure, and Draco found himself missing his alpha more with each passing day. The ache of their separation weighed heavily on his heart, a constant reminder of the emptiness that lingered in Slytherin Manor in Marvolo's absence.
But one day, as Draco attempted to slip into one of his favourite dresses, he was met with an unexpected obstacle. The fabric strained against his abdomen, refusing to accommodate his form as it had done countless times before. Confusion flickered in Draco's eyes as he glanced down, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of his bloated stomach.
Panic surged through Draco's veins as he realized the implications of his condition. Had he fallen ill? Had he eaten something that did not sit well with his body?
As his mind raced with worry, Draco's thoughts turned to the weeks that Marvolo had spent with him, he had spent more time out of clothes than in them. He remembered how he had spent countless nights wrapped in Marvolo's shirts that were extremely baggy on his small frame. There was no way Draco could have noticed this earlier.
But now, Draco decided that seeing a healer would be the best course of action because it was not like he had much to do anyway so, he made his way to the nearest healer.
As Draco sat in the healer's office, bored out of his mind. Did Hospitals really have to make everything white? How could healers and nurses survive more than 2 hours here, he would never know.
