Archive of Our Own ^beta

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PREAMBLE: Let’s Remember, and let’s see where we’ve been…

If you haven't read Spring and Fate always come around, a fanfiction you can find right here in my profile, you might NOT UNDERSTAND many parts of the story, also, Antinous' personality WILL seem very Out Of Character to you because I already worked with his character development in all the past fanfic.

If you still want to read, you're totally welcome to do so, I’m about to give a quick check for everyone to be fresh with the events of the past fanfiction. Thank you very much for giving this a chance! I had to place this explanation and warning because I’m very aware I tagged Odysseus/Penelope here and it’s not a bluff, but, a warning is always nice. So: Under warning there is no cheating.

If you already come from the whole events of Spring and Fate, welcome!!! You can skip to the story with this phrase: A man gazed longingly at the light

So, what happened in Spring and Fate always come around? Well! In there we see how Telemachus (omega) and Antinous (alpha) were childhood friends before Antinous left with Eurymachus to an alpha training camp. It was supposed to be only nine months but, he disappeared for five years.

When he returned, he was no longer the cheeky, good-hearted arrogant and playful juvenile Telemachus knew and loved dearly. He was a cruel, mean, aggressive and damn cunning young man prying for the crown and Penelope’s hand along with some of the other suitors.

Basically, they become enemies. BUT even if Antinous is a son of a bitch, he still hasn’t crossed a line that would make him a full-fledged monster. But, he is diving deep in the darkness.

There is an event called the Artemis Moonlight Sonata, where people reunites to sing from the core of their hearts in order to please Artemis and Apollo. It’s usually a couple thing, but it’s not required to go with your mate. Penelope and Ctimene convince Telemachus to attend and, when the prince stumbles with Antinous, they both fight (classic of them) and get deep into the forest while fighting.

Short version of the following events:

Human traffickers drug them, kidnap them, and take both all the way to the remnants of Troy. The survivors had a plan to repopulate Troy so, they had been buying alphas and omegas to force them into reproduction slavery in order to repopulate the burned down city (Spoiler alert, it obviously fails).

Both manage to escape, and this is the beginning of their journey back to Ithaca. Here, they both realize they are more complex than they thought and it’s the real start of Antinous’ journey to redemption. Not an easy one because a monster needs a lot of time, experiences, triggers and more to become a man again. However, from enemies they slowly start shifting into a weird mixture of enemies, rivals, and friends… until a strong event happens that provides the moment where Telemachus finally finds out why Antinous is coded the way he is.

Let’s keep it short. All monsters are made, it’s very rare when a monster is born. So, like all human beings, Antinous choices and past molded into the monster he was. The past in general extend being: abusive, cruel and violent father; the loss of the only light he had and loved back then in the form of his mother, and the training in Sparta under a full-fledged cruel and ruthless monster who saw potential in Antinous and molded him into a shadow of himself in order to achieve his goals.

Telemachus comprehends the whole rawness of his situation and decides to forgive him (without forgetting his past actions and misdeeds) and in his forgiveness, Antinous discovers not only that he is being given a second chance, but also that he missed Telemachus and that, for once in a long LONG time, he wants to be happy.

TRUST ME, I’M TRYING MY BEST TO MAKE A SHORTCUT IN THE WHOLE LORE OF THAT REDEMPTION TRIP.

They get back to Ithaca and their relationship keeps shifting until finally, we can say they become unofficial lovers. Eurymachus heavily disagrees on this and decides to take Antinous’ position as the leader of the suitors, and with Melantho’s help, things get pretty tense until, 20 years are finally over and Odysseus is finally allowed to come back home.

At this point in the story, Antinous and Telemachus fear Odysseus will kill all the suitors with not an ounce of mercy, so, Telemachus in an attempt to keep something from Antinous with him, convinces the suitor for them to try and conceive a child. They don’t manage for a long time.

Odysseus comes back, the whole massacre happens, and when he is about to kill Antinous, completely ignoring Telemachus pleads because “father knows best after the hell he had to go through”, Athena makes a move and just warns Odysseus saying that Telemachus will never forgive him if he kills his mate. In the end, everything turns out right, and, SURPRISE, turns out that by the time of the massacre, Telemachus was already expecting the next generation of Ithacan royalty!

Some more lore AND we start to see the whole tense situation happening with Ctimene and Odysseus. She has her brother back, but, where is her husband? And why does Odysseus refuses to say a word about Eurylochus death?

They are always fighting, both stubborn and not showing defeat… until… Ctimene decides she had enough… she’s mourning, aching, and shattered… her brother is no longer himself and her husband is gone…

Then… what happened to her? Why besides Penelope (and she still doesn’t know everything), Odysseus is entirely quiet about everything that happened?

Spring and fate readers remember the final chapter of that adventure, and therefore, now that every reader here had the context of how a monster became once more a man thanks to love, forgiveness, and second chances… we shall see again what happened back there…

But from a different set of eyes now… so, this…is how Winter and Healing sometimes come together…

BEGINS

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A man gazed longingly at the light, hoping it would give him direction, good news about what he was waiting for. The man had thick dark brown hair and a beard that was well-groomed but not too long, handsomely complementing his hazel eyes.

The door of the room where he was in opened carefully, a young boy getting inside.

“Father? What are you doing?”

The man did not look away from the view, instead he gestured with his hand for his young heir to join him. The young five-year-old pup blinked before walking to his father, the steps on the stone floor were light in sound and when he was finally right next to the regal man, he glanced to look at him, his eyes showing a wondered gleam.

The profile of King Laertes of Ithaca proved to be stern and something to respect. And his pheromones were always tinted with power, a rich and powerful aroma that was entirely his signature as the man he was. Laertes’ scent was the ocean’s crown, the main note being Poseidon’s domains sprayed salt, and the second one was well-aged ambergris, cut with a hint of dark forest and anchored in the dark weight of leather.

The kid looked to the front, getting straighter and trying to look mighty and powerful even if he was no bigger than his father’s leg and thigh length together. He was short but the boy didn’t care, he still had time to grow up.

“Tell me Father, why you look so calm? Is it because of how brave and strong you are? Is it because you’re the toughest alpha in our island?” the kid couldn’t help asking.

The hazel eyed man turned down and shook his head, letting go a pensive hum. Curiosity was all over his son’s expression.

“My dear Odysseus. I may look calm, but I am quite nervous. Your mother is doing her best to bring another creature into this world, and that, can be both dangerous and a hard feat.”

There were a few seconds of silence, the soft pastel colors tinting the sky with clear light and a chilly sensation. The boy let out a cloud of breath as he exhaled into the breeze.

“You were nervous when I was born then, Father?”

Laertes took a deep inhalation, “Indeed I was my son.”

Both had their stares trained on the sky, enjoying their moments of peace while they kept waiting.

“You see, even with all the adventures I went through with those men who are now known as legends, fatherhood is something very different. It's an adventure with much more complex risks and obstacles. You have to know what's right even though you'll never really know, and when you make mistakes, they may haunt you for the rest of your life... but happiness, oh happiness.”

The king turned to look at his son, who was now watching the same sunrise as him.

“If the gods are merciful, one day you will be lucky enough to understand, my beloved son.”

And with that, he proceeded to lovingly ruffle the brown hair of his son, the little prince of Ithaca, who was staring at the sun, smiling softly with emotion, his dark brown eyes witnessing Helios finally beginning the day without further delay.

There was a knock on the door, both father and son turned at the same time their head. With the permission, a young man, a guard, entered and smiled slightly.

“The Queen has delivered the new royal, your highness. It’s a girl. A princess.”

“Thank you Evgenios, we shall join her now.”

The boy followed his father through the corridors of the palace, the servants and slaves were excited, obvious in their muttering and giggling that the news of the barely born princess were spreading fast. Another young boy around Odysseus age ran to get next to the royals, respecting their title and hierarchy and lagging two meters behind them, the prince sharpening his ear to listen to his friend.

“Your highness,” began the black eyed and haired boy, aware that the king was present, “Are you excited about your little sister? You’re going to see her?”

Laertes couldn’t mind less about the little slave following them, the boy was the adopted son of one of his very own slaves and the little one was one of his Odysseus very good friends. The young royal nodded thinking about what would soon happened once they reached his parents’ room.

“Yeah, we are. But, I don’t know what to do, Eumaeus, I mean I didn’t care girl or boy, but now that I know I have a sister I’m not sure if I should be gentle or more careful or what.”

“It’s a baby Odysseus. She is not made of clay, but yeah, it is a good hunch and idea to be careful and gentle.” Laertes interrupted, the boys nodded and kept talking about the whole novelty.

Once they reached the kings’ chambers, Eumaeus bowed and walked away to fulfill his duties in the palace, leaving Odysseus breathing in and settling with the eager sensation on his chest.

The guards opened the door and both entered. The Queen was on her bed, the midwives and faithful servants were also there checking that everything were ready to tend into the new royal, and Odysseus’ wet-nurse was helping the Queen check the little crying pup. The second they all distinguished the King and the heir entering, they bowed, proceeding to leave the room almost empty to allow them a moment of intimacy between family and trusted close staff.

“My Prince, Odysseus, come meet your little sister,” Eurycleia said, smiling and tilting her head towards Anticlea who held the new born with a soft smile, tending into her and waiting for her boys to come greet the newest member.

Laertes nudged Odysseus to walk and get near first. As soon as the little boy reached the edge of the bed, his mother bent down a little so he could get a good look at his little sister. Laertes couldn't help the little smile. His son was still small in every way, he had to stand on his tiptoes to be able to see clearly and satisfy his curiosity.

And their son was not only quite smart, he was very, VERY curious.

The queen placed a finger on the fabric covering the baby and pulled down slightly to show the little one to her brother. Odysseus had never seen a baby this close before and he surprised at the frail and soft appearance of the pup. She had olive skin like him, dark brown hair, a tiny little nose, and she smelled good like milk and something that reminded him to the nursery where the babies of the servants were taken care of. Was that what the women called baby scent?

The baby girl was calm, trying to sleep once more not knowing how much of an effort her mother had put into bringing her to the world. The king arrived next to his mate and kissed her forehead not caring too much about how the sweat of effort was slowly drying on it.

“Look at them Anticlea, this is our legacy. They are our future.”

Both parents were delighted with the child, Odysseus could see the love in the sparkle of their eyes, but for his part, although he found it tender how small she was, he could not understand what was so wonderful about her presence.

Of course, he said no word about it.

“Her name will be Ctimene,” Laertes stated, turning to see his wife. “Unless of course you have something to object or another option to propose.”

Anticlea shook her head, tilting it to look sweetly at her daughter. “No, it’s perfect. Ctimene it is then.”

“Odysseus and Ctimene,” the alpha said then proudly, placing his strong hand over his first-born’s shoulder, “Prince and Princess of Ithaca, son and daughter of Laertes and Anticlea. Now that’s what I call a good legacy to live with.”

“And future king!” the little boy interrupted, making sure his father pointed that out. Both parents chuckled, Laertes ruffling the hair.

“Yeah, and you’ll be a magnificent one too. If you keep surprising everyone around you, you might be the youngest king Ithaca has ever seen.”

“But still, don’t get impatient,” his mom said, arching an eyebrow to her husband, “Patience is a virtue and you need to refine it. You’ll stay as a prince for quite some time before earning the right to become king my darling.”

Baby Ctimene began crying and Anticlea dismissed the man and boy, Eurycleia getting a few things to tend into the queen while she breastfed her daughter.

The young prince peeked one last time before being escorted out of the room by his father, wondering just how and when he would be able to actually get to meet this tiny little thing that now was also the pride and happiness of his parents.

Of course, Odysseus would not stay with the question floating in the air. He needed to search and create the moment to evaluate how this baby would change his world and the weight of the changes.

And he found it. One day when his parents were talking to delegates from other kingdoms, he decided to go on a reconnaissance mission regarding the creature he now knew as Ctimene. He entered the room and approached Eurycleia, who was mending some clothes as part of her chores while taking care of the little one.

“Is she awake now?”

The woman glanced at the little one in the crib and smiled. “Actually she is. Want to be with her a little while before attending to the class you’re skipping right now, my child?”

The prince ignored the skipping his education part and walked a few steps to get closer. Looking into the crib and standing on his tip toes to be able to fully see her. Ctimene was then looking at him, she was playing with her leg and her fun was interrupted with the person studying her like that.

The boy raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, trying to understand why he could no longer do that as easy as before and she could, how could she be more flexible than he was? The baby imitating the tilting of the head surprised him. Odysseus smirked, tilting the head to the other side and watching Ctimene doing the exact same thing, he chuckled and the pup tried to imitate him although she had no idea what a smile or laugh was.

But that little person in front of her was actually making Ctimene feel safe, also, he looked friendly and her mama looked like that too, so this little person cared for her.

Baby deductions, as their logic and reasoning was far from developed.

Odysseus leaned over the crib again, studying the bundle of silly chubby limbs and big, blinking hazel eyes as though she were some rare animal he’d found in the palace gardens.

She was totally dependent of someone to keep her safe, well fed and warm. She was indeed both delicate and strange.

The prince moved to a side of the crib and somehow managed to place half his body leaned inside, even the wet-nurse with her deep brown hair and young dark brown eyes was curious about how the kid she looked after since he was born managed to do that.

Ctimene's little fists kept waving around aimlessly and the young kid got his hands inside the crib to touch the tiny and attractive for his curiosity hands. It was as if they were playing, bouncing their hands in rhythm, Odysseus trying to catch one of them to explore such a tiny little thing half the size of his own until, suddenly, with a strength unknown by the five-year-old, the smart little prince found one of those tiny fists wrapped around his finger.

He blinked down at it. Eurycleia giggling and so touched at the baby’s adorable laughter.

“Hey. That’s mine,” commented, as he gave a gentle tug, but the grip didn’t loosen. He tugged again, frowning, then tried peeling her fingers away one by one, only for them to curl right back around him with that surprising strength.

What the...? How? How can so much force be inside a thing this little? Almost half of me!

“You’re not even the size of my sword and you think you can take prisoners?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Obviously the sword was a wooden one for training, the pup was switching the toys for tools ready to prepare him and forge him into a fit future king.

Eurycleia smirked from her stool. “She’s already claimed you, my prince.”

The word shocked the kid. Claim him? That was such a strong word, it meant so many things, but in this case, the usage of it made him feel something funny on his chest. He belonged to someone? He was that important to this weak and soft someone already? Odysseus found that the actions spoke stronger than words for creatures who were no able to speak yet.

Odysseus grumbled with a smile and stopped struggling.

“Fine,” he told the baby, “but I’m keeping the rest of me.”

He settled awkwardly against the crib, letting her hold on while he examined her tiny face up close. She stared right back, her mouth making little chewing motions on nothing.

Feeling oddly self-conscious under the scrutiny of those big innocent hazel eyes, he tried pulling a few funny faces at her: a squished-nose scowl, a wide-eyed gasp, even sticking his tongue out. To his shock, she made a hiccupping noise, then another, and then a bubbling, breathy sound that could only be a laugh.

He couldn’t help it, he blushed and his chest jumped, his eyes widening at the moment. “You just…?”

“First time she’s done that.” Eurycleia’s smile softened.

Something warm and unexpected unfurled in his chest. He grinned and leaned closer, their wet-nurse reaching out her hand to grab his chiton and prevent the boy to fall on his sister inside the crib.

“You laugh at me now, Cti-Ctimene,” he struggled a little with the name, “but you’ll see. I’m going to teach you all my tricks… and keep you out of trouble. I’ll be by your side!”

She tightened her grip on his finger, as if sealing the deal. Eurycleia smile widened, it was something so sweet, she could tell the brother and sister bond ignited right there at that precise moment.

Days later, three different faces were being presented to the princess who was watching them all from above her with interested eyes.

Odysseus was excited when his friends finally arrived at the palace and begged his mother to allow him to bring his little sister to them. The young prince surprised his friends by walking into the courtyard where they were lounging, holding Ctimene in pride and puffing out his chest.

He felt important, he was carrying something precious, something important, something he was meant to care and protect. This was his very first mission, and his friends noticed it.

“She’s my sister. And you can hold her if you don’t drop her,” he declared, smile wide and watching proudly how the kids rushed to his side in pure curiosity at the little new life in his arms.

The first one to arrive was a very excited kid with wavy-curly black hair, looking thin but a few inches taller than the prince. His skin was light brown, similar to Odysseus but the young heir’s tone was more medium olive instead. The pup with soft brown eyes wore a red headband that his grandmother had gifted him.

The second he got next to the baby he found the lovely little one so heartwarming to look at.

“Awww! Look at her! She is tiny and cute and adorableee! Look at the little toes!” cooed, enchanted and wiggling a finger to get Ctimene’s attention. She grabbed it and the boy smiled, moving the finger as if dancing with her which made the princess giggle.

Odysseus gasped, sharing the smile and getting excited.

“You are the second to make her laugh, Polites!” stated, but he pointed him out “But I’m the first one and her favorite!” the kid was quick to make clear.

Polites nodded and while he hummed to her in a soft sing-song voice, Eumaeus got closer, excited to finally be able to meet his princess, the daughter of the man who was friends with his father but was at the same time his and his father’s owner.

Odysseus knew Eumaeus was kind, caring and extremely loyal, so he looked once to their wet-nurse, she understood and nodded, saying with her eyes Just be careful.

“Want to hold her?” offered, Polites moving slightly as he waited for the moment where the royal would pass the pup into their other friend.

Eumaeus flinched, and blushed, getting nervous and clutching his arm in insecurity. He was clearly hesitating to hold her.

“Don’t want to hurt her. Don’t know how to, Ody.”

“You’ve been waiting a long time to meet her,” the prince said, making the blush to deepen on the other one’s face, “You’ve carried babies before, have a brother, no?”

“I-I mean yes, but I’ve only carried him once,” rushed to clarify, feeling unqualified for such a thing, even if it wasn’t that important.

In the end, after insisting, the slave boy decided to give in and finally take her, he cradled her carefully, almost reverently, as the princess she was.

“She smells like milk and sunshine,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“What do you even mean by that?” asked the final kid, finally getting closer after watching all the reactions and interactions unfold. He was dark skinned and with dark eyes almost black, his hair was short and dark brown, he was the most serious and direct friend Odysseus had.

“I’m not too sure myself,” admitted Eumaeus, looking at Ctimene with such tenderness that the prince felt something strange in his body. Like a phantom ache in his mouth. “But it just smells like that, you know? Like laying under the sunlight on a spring day.”

“Oh yeah! Now that makes sense! I think you’re right, smells sunny!” Polites agreed in a booming and kind voice.

Ctimene was getting sleepy in Eumaeus arms, she felt safe, comfy and warm. Now that, was a good place to take a nap.

Eurylochus leaned into the crook of the slave’s neck and tilted his head, brow raising. “She is very small, she can’t care for herself.” Odysseus knew that behind that stern look of his, there was a good heart and the kid proved it with the complement of his statement. “But she’s got your eyes Ody, she’ll be smart too.”

He gently tapped her nose, earning a startled blink from Ctimene, and then a soft pout that made the other kids giggle and laugh. Then after the cute and funny moment, Eurylochus stepped back awkwardly, not knowing what else to do with a baby. He was an only son, and he was not cold but he was unfamiliar with the big brother like vibe.

He considered Polites and Odysseus like his brothers but even so, he did not see them in a daily basis.

Eurycleia was watching the whole interaction, content and happy at how Odysseus kept boasting about how strong she was, forcing his friends to try prying her little fist off their fingers. The other kids laughing and making ruckus about the whole deal.

A baby is always a show in the end, she thought, looking at the sky and deciding she needed to take the princess back inside for her meal and posterior nap.

After that encounter there were more to come, especially with how much some of them asked Odysseus about his little sister when they met. And soon it was clear who the favorites were and how the dynamics between the pups worked.

And not only that, the little baby predicted to her brother the subgenders each of them would get. Odysseus watched every single hint and began making theories that in time, would be proven to be right.

Eumaeus had a bond of trust and security with the little girl, as that was what inspired for the baby. Ctimene sought him out a lot when she felt sad, wanted specific attention or also when she was hungry or sleepy. Eumaeus instinctively swayed side to side while holding her, the way he’d seen nursemaids do, the others noticed and teased him about having omega instincts. With all of that combined, the royal deduced that his friend would end up presenting as an omega instead of a beta like everyone supposed.

Polites was sweet and kind with the baby, but he was usually like that. His friends thought he would turn out an omega, but Odysseus knew better after watching Ctimene’s reactions with Polites. She acted like herself with him, Ctimene did not reacted to his unpresented subgender, she reacted to his personality, which was very different. Odysseus was betting his everything that his best friend would turn out to be a beta.

And Eurylochus, well that was an interesting thing, he was not very sure because Ctimene seemed to inherit the temper of his family and himself. So either she was reacting to his friend’s attitude and personality, or, she was reacting to the build and aura of a forming alpha. In the end, his suspicions were right, his friend presented as an alpha.

The prince couldn’t help it, he tried to use his little sister to figure out his own subgender. So he watched, experimented and tried different approaches to find out.

The hints he gathered were pointing alpha, just like his father: his baby sister seemed to feel safe and protected with him around, she paid a lot of attention when he spoke to her in a firm way, even if she never complied to what he was asking or commanding. And of course he also observed with careful attention to his own body and reactions.

The way he felt protectiveness in a fierce way when someone of the strangers from other kingdoms visited the palace for diplomatic reasons and they wanted to bond with the prince and princess.

Some nights, the prince would stare until his sister fell asleep on her crib, smiling softly and sleepy but wanting to be there for her. She was his baby sister, he would keep her safe, he would be her big brother. She would never be alone with him in her life.

...She would never be alone...

Chapter Text

The hazel eyes opened behind a gorgeous line of thick dark eyelashes. The wind was caressing the face and making the room slightly chilly. The woman blinked and stirred in the bed, yawning as her arms extended to the ceiling.

Another day was beginning in Ctimene’s life. Another peaceful day at the farm where she and her father lived at.

The room that had been hers for quite the a few decades now was simple, yet instead of smelly and worn-out, it was warm with the quiet dignity of a well-kept farmstead. Its walls were made of sun-baked clay mixed with straw, their pale ochre tone catching the afternoon light that spilled in through a narrow shuttered window. The floor was hard-packed earth, smoothed by years of sweeping and covered in places with woven mats of rush and goat hair, their coarse fibers faintly smelling of the fields.

Quite different from the rooms inside the Ithaca palace. Ctimene liked both places, the calm and tranquility that could be breathed in right there at Ithaca less populated side and the fancy and rich environment that seeped from the castle walls, stone and marble floors, right into her skin.

She stood from the bed and touched the stood of it, the frame hand-hewn from olive wood, polished smooth by touch. Ctimene frowned with a soft smile and sighed, that frame had been a witness of the strength and energy that once was part of her beloved father.

After washing her face with the water basin, she took from a wooden chest a nice himation dress and after getting dressed, she got ready to fulfill her duties. After all, life in a farm was quite busy.

But first, breakfast. Preferably before her father woke up, she always liked to spoil him. Especially since… well… since her mother said goodbye to them all.

Some hours passed by before she was actually able to make breakfast. Outside, the gentle bleating of goats and the rustle of olive leaves in the wind reminded all of the inhabitants here that this was Ithaca. A small nation filled with humble, hardworking people, a beautiful place never far from the sea.

Inside, the hearth fire still glowed from the night before, its embers coaxed back to life by Ctimene’s practiced hands. She crouched low, hair tied back with a strip of worn linen as she blew softly into the coals.

A small pot of porridge was already on the heat, its steam curling up and carrying the nutty scent into the room. She reached for the clay jar of honey and placed it on the table, happy to think about her father’s face when he added it to the bread.

From the storeroom, she brought out a round loaf of yesterday’s bread, crunchy and delicious, cutting a few slices and tearing the rest into chunks to toast on a flat stone near the hearth.

“Good morning, Ctimene.”

She turned to see the man three or four years older than her own brother. He was carrying a clay jug and smiled warmly to her. Ctimene returned the smile and pointed where to place the jug.

“Good morning Eumaeus, you came back from the goat pen too early,” she commented with a raised eyebrow, happy to make the smile wider in the man’s face.

“Well, bringing in the morning’s milk gives me an excuse to see you and your royal father early in the day,” the swineherd answered.

His scent was also warm and loyal like him. Eumaeus always carried with him since she could remember the fragrance of sunlit olive groves after rain, the soft sweetness of honey lingering beneath, and a faint musk that felt like an unspoken promise never to leave.

The omegan scent even if faint for her, was so comforting. Ctimene poured some milk into a small bronze pot to heat gently. She whisked in a pinch of dried herbs from the garden so the milk would be fragrant and soothing.

Now everything was ready, she had settled out simple clay bowls for her father, the two farmhands, Eumaeus and herself. The man was talking animatedly with her, the woman grabbing some figs and olives, to complete the breakfast.

When Laertes entered, smelling faintly of the early morning air and olive wood, he paused in the doorway. His daughter was grabbing the diluted wine cups Eumaeus had filled and was now placing them in the table with easy grace, the light falling over her hair. His longing and sadness melted for a moment, smiling with tenderness at her.

Eumaeus bowed and that was clear for Ctimene who turned to smile at her father.

“Morning, Father,” said, placing the food in the center of the table.

Laertes took his seat, the lines around his eyes softening. “My dearest. You’ve made the house smell better than the king’s halls. I know what I’m saying.”

She laughed and shook her head amused, “I really doubt that Father, but I thank you. It’s so good to see you smile.”

The former king chuckled and they began eating before the others arrived. They liked to enjoy a little bit of peace in their mornings. Ctimene yearned this, her mother was clearly missed, but the last few years before she committed suicide had been dark… No matter what Ctimene did, she couldn't keep a smile on her face long enough. In the end, it seemed that the pain of Odysseus' absence without news had never completely left the house when his mother did.

Laertes was doing much better, surprising Ctimene since in the past he had been on the verge of madness. Perhaps it was his intention not to succumb as his wife had done and to ensure that the hope that his beloved son would return was not extinguished by nostalgia and pain.

The woman was very glad to have Eumaeus right here next to her. At first, the man had stayed with Penelope and Telemachus to protect and accompany them. However, when the suitors arrived in droves to invade the palace in hopes of obtaining the throne by winning over the queen, Penelope began to fear for his safety.

Being the son of a slave and one of the most loyal men to the crown, as he was a very close friend of Odysseus, the suitors had taken a greater interest in him as an omega distraction. They could get their hands on him.

Penelope noticed this and quickly sent him away with Laertes and Ctimene before a tragedy could even happen, she knew that Eumaeus was brave and fierce, but she also was aware that if he attacked a suitor—one of those important and powerful men—to defend himself, things would go terribly, terribly wrong for him.

The old alpha raised from the table, thanking them for the food and walking outside to take care of the gardens, prune the vines and tend to the young trees. Both younger adults watched him go.

“His work is both physical labor and a meditative act, I guess it’s the way he found to keep him grounded quite literally. A connection to Ithaca’s soil keeps the old king connected to the reality here,” said the swineherd.

Ctimene nodded, massaging her neck with one hand and letting go air heavily.

“I’m so nervous Eumaeus… today something big is going to happen back in the castle.”

The man blinked and tilted his head in question. “Are they okay? I heard the suitors had problems some time ago between them.”

The princess nodded and looked outside, there were a few sheep grazing probably released from their shelter by her father.

“Yes, Penelope and Telemachus are alright. But things have been… complicated…” the woman saw the omega man scoffing and munching angrily at his last piece of bread.

“I swear to the gods, if any of those bastards dares to hurt any of them… I’ll kill them…” mumbled while munching.

Ctimene indeed couldn’t wish for a better friend of his brother here. Just like her husband, both Polites and Eumaeus had the pleasure and honor to meet Telemachus when he was little.

The black eyed omega had even looked after the prince when he was a pup till the early years of his juvenile stage. Of course he had work to do, so he couldn’t be there often, but he visited both Telemachus and Penelope a lot.

As a matter of fact, Eumaeus was the one who aided Penelope when Telemachus presented for the very first time.

The man still remembered that day. A guard had rushed to look for him while he was taking care of the life stock. He worried sick for a moment, thinking something horrible had happened to the royals, however what the guard said left him shocked a few minutes straight.

“The Queen requests with urgency your presence in the palace. The prince has presented, the heir is an omega.”

He remembered the first time he presented, how horrible and hellish his whole body felt. He paled and mumbled something, still not believing the news.

“The prince is ten years old, almost eleven. How did he present this early?”

The guard didn’t know, but, as he ran to the palace to aid his prince, he remembered Odysseus had presented as well earlier than most, when he was eleven years old. He was the reason his own first heat as an omega was bearable, Odysseus helped him and took care of his feverish body until the cycle completed.

Now it was his turn to aid the young juvenile.

Everything in Telemachus’ room was a chaos. The omegan maids were trying to help but were unsure about the heat cycle of a male omega, they were not quite certain if it worked the same way as theirs. Penelope on her part, was hugging her child, cradling him and her heart suffering at how much her son was sobbing and panting in pain.

Eumaeus knocked and entered, feeling the wave of fresh and strong pheromones flooding the room. The first heat always had the higher concentration of scent, as it was the body’s way of saying “I’m ready, I’m fertile.”

He had to say and admit that Telemachus scent was quite lovely, not overly sweet but fresh instead, he really liked it. Even in the scent he was more akin to his mother than Odysseus.

Although he did not remember Odysseus’ smell as good as before…

“Eumaeus,” Penelope said, worry etched in her face. “Please help him, tell me what to do. I’m ashamed to admit to you that I had no idea this was so strong and hard to deal with.”

The man rushed to the prince’s bed and asked for permission as the boy was tucked in his mother’s chest and body.

“Forgive my boldness your majesty, but I need to feel his temperature.”

“Whatever you require, don’t even ask.”

Careful, he placed a hand on his cheek and hummed when Telemachus leaned to the touch, chasing the coldness of the hand, whimpering and letting a few tears escape.

“Hurts… I’m burning...” the prince managed to whisper, more tears escaping his eyes.

The omega’s brows dipped even more. This heat was quite advanced and wild, even more than usual.

«M ust be the alphas around and the lack of Odysseus presence nearby» he thought, asking everybody except Penelope to get out. « Telemachus is always worrying about his mother and wanting to be like Ody… maybe all of that together pressured his body into maturing earlier…»

Finally alone, Eumaeus and Penelope prepared a cold bath for Telemachus and helped him get in the water. He was very weak, it could be dangerous leaving him unsupervised. The prince was regaining strength, the water lapping on his shoulders when he looked at his mother with pleading eyes.

“Mom… c-can Anti be with me tomorrow? I-I feel so sick… I w-want to be with him…”

The queen looked at the older omega and he shook his head. He recognized the juvenile the prince was talking about, and even if the kid was his friend, that was a huge no in his list.

“My Queen, I’m sure the kid is close to presenting as well. The Prince’s heat could trigger his presentation and if he turns out to be an alpha, he could lose it and mate with the young Prince.”

The horrified face of Penelope was enough, but Eumaeus needed to make clear how dangerous alphas could be for Telemachus right now.

“The Prince in his first heat and the boy in his first rut, there would be no doubt, your son would get pregnant if they tried following their natures.”

The young Prince was too feverish to register those words, so Penelope kissed his forehead and smiled softly.

“I’m sorry my love, he can visit you after your heat has passed. Right now you need to take care of yourself.”

Telemachus whimpered and began panting hard. The swineherd calmed Penelope down as she was not sure what to do now.

“It’s okay my Queen, he cooled down but still needs a place to feel safe and protected. It’s normal.”

They dried him off and placed him on his bed where both brought to him the big amount of blankets, pillows and silky sheets the maids had placed for the prince.

Omegas didn’t nest if they didn’t feel safe enough, always on their guard instead to defend themselves. So Eumaeus felt relieved the moment an almost entirely naked Telemachus because of how hot his inner temperature was, began clumsily taking the objects and fabrics at hand to create a cozy place to be.

The omega found adorable in the moment the memory of how first nests were always mechanical and out of the desire of laying down on softness and curl until sleep took away the pain of fever and sexual desire.

He remembers how when he finished explaining Penelope all the important things that could help her son, both turned to see the juvenile, hugging one of the pillows and sobbing softly, the tears of pain and longing for some comfort staining the cushion.

“Demeter and Aphrodite’s blessing it’s not always this painful,” explained to ease Penelope aching expression, “You women have it worse I believe… it’s just that the first heat is a flood of everything together. He’ll be fine. Just go to him and spend his heat with him, your highness.”

Penelope climbed into the bed, careful to not move too much the messy made nest and persuaded her son to replace the pillow with her body, hugging him and carding her fingers through his hair.

Telemachus dived his nose in his mother’s clothes and quickly fell sleep, a soft sound slowly forming in his throat. The beta was surprised when she leaned closer and found that her sweet little baby was purring like a cat would.

One look to the swineherd smiling and nodding and she sighed content. They would be fine now. Telemachus would be fine.

After Penelope ordered him to go and look after Odysseus' parents on the farm where they lived, Eumaeus depended on Telemachus' visits to be able to talk to him and spend time together. Ctimene told him various things about both royals every time she went to visit them in the palace, so he didn't ask for much more information, besides, he considered he was in no position to demand it.

However, his heart and soul were broken when he learned that the Prince, the son of his friend and king Odysseus, had disappeared after the night of Sonata.

The man didn’t have the heart to tell Laertes, who was already quite weak and depressed since the death of his mate Anticlea, so he kept that fact a secret. In the end, Ctimene had decided to stay and keep Penelope company while they waited for news or the return of their beloved prince.

There were many nights in the month and a half that Telemachus was missing when he cried silently, blaming himself for not having been there to protect Telemachus, suffering because he had to continue obeying the order given to him by the queen.

He was working with the olive trees when he heard rumors from the other two slaves who helped Laertes on the farm and lived with them. He dropped the tool he was using to cut dry branches as soon as he heard the news that brought the sparkle back to his eyes: The prince was fine, he had returned safely and in one piece.

That day, he spent the entire afternoon in one of Athena's temples, giving thanks and offering sacrifices to repay such a blessing of return to the matron of the royal family.

When Ctimene returned, however, he was unpleasantly surprised to find that one of the suitors had returned with the prince. The one who, according to Ctimene and even Telemachus himself when he sometimes mentioned the man, was the worst of them all.

He couldn’t help the scowl and growling each time Ctimene visited them and commented to him when she was back how much time those two were spending together. He knew there were a lot of things Odysseus sister was not telling him, but he worried quite a lot to think such vile man was hoping to use Telemachus as a ticket to steal the crown from the royals.

When Telemachus finally had the time to visit him, Eumaeus tried with no success to get out of the young prince what was going on with the suitor. The young man only said that he could handle it that he had nothing to worry.

Of course that did nothing to ease the older omega’s nerves and discomfort. But, he trusted the young royal, so, he only sighed and told him that he could always count with him if help was required.

The last thing he knew was that something had happened a long while ago in the palace, the suitors fighting and dividing into two different groups, one leaded by the top alpha of them all and another one lead by, surprisingly for Eumaeus, the Prince Telemachus himself. Ctimene had little information about it, so, the swineherd  could only remain curious about what was all of that about and how true were the rumors of the Prince having a suitor of his own.

However, that was now in the past. Returning to where we were before all of that, Eumaeus now listened attentively to what Ctimene had discussed with Penelope the last time she was at the castle.

The possibility that this smart woman would launch a final challenge as a last resort against the suitors was becoming more real and real by the second.

“News doesn't reach us so quickly,” the woman said thoughtfully, “but a little while ago today, shortly after I got up, I received a message directly from Telemachus through one of the guards. He says that his mother will issue a challenge today and that if I was planning to visit them, it would be better to do so in a few days.”

Ctimene fixed her hazel eyes on the omega across the table, the other two slaves entering to have breakfast while they talked in good spirits.

“And such a thing worries me,” she whispered. She did not doubt those two, but Eumaeus and she knew how important it was to sometimes keep a low profile with some information.

The man nodded and sighed, saying hello with a motion of his head and then moving his black eyes for Ctimene to follow him outside. Once bathing in the early sun rays, the conversation was concluded.

“Well, if those are our Prince’s wishes then you should follow them. He is as smart as the Queen and I think both know what they’re doing.”

Ctimene grumbled and the black haired omega with plenty white of age streaks smiled at the sight. She looked so much like Odysseus, and she acted a lot like him too.

“Don’t worry. If they need help, we’ll be there. We can’t do too much about it right now.”

Ctimene had no choice but to agree. Everyone went off to do their chores, but the woman spent much of the day thinking about the matter.

As sunset approached, she decided to visit her mother's grave. Perhaps talking to her would help her feel calmer and allow her to sleep.

The path to the small burial grove was one she could walk with her eyes closed. Her sandals brushed against the dry grass, and the soft chorus of crickets swelled as the sun dipped lower. The scent of wild thyme and ripening figs clung to the warm air, mingling with the salt carried from the distant shore.

Ahead, beneath the shelter of two ancient olive trees, stood the simple stone stele her father had placed after the funeral, it was weathered now, but still fulfilled it mission, holding her mother’s name as if it had been carved only yesterday.

Ctimene lowered herself onto the earth, the cool soil pressing through the fabric of her himation. She traced the carved letters with her fingertips, as if greeting her mother through the stone, and let the stillness of the place wrap around her like a familiar embrace.

She missed Anticlea a lot. She did not resent her mother for having given up… she knew how painful and hard was waiting for years and years with not a single tinge of hope in the horizon… although the thought of that precisely, was what killed her.

It was too much for her, Ctimene still remembers how she arrived home completely hysterical and driven mad, shaking and crying as she crumbled in Laertes arms, swearing she had seen it, she had witnessed how Odysseus fleet was coming near. Anticlea swore, as those tired and puffy eyes stared madly into the ones of her mate, that a huge out of nowhere furious storm swept away the ships from Ithaca, and whether it sank them or carried them far away, she was unable to tell.

Ctimene pressed her palm now on the stone and not only the fingers, making a pain face as she remembered how they found her body at the bottom of that small risk. She didn’t blame Odysseus for taking this long, after all, the news about the other kings having a hundred trials and problems to come back to their kingdoms allowed some hope to lighten her hearts.

But she wondered what could be possibly delaying all of the Ithacan men so much.

She reached into the small woven pouch she had brought and drew out a few sprigs of thyme and rosemary from Laertes’ garden, plants her mother had always loved and taken care for because of their fragrance.

Laying them gently at the base of the stone, she poured a small libation of watered wine onto the earth, letting it soak into the soil as an offering to her spirit.

The scent rose in the cooling air, mingling with the faint salt of the sea breeze, and Ctimene bowed her head, murmuring a few quiet words meant only for her mother’s ears.

Then she looked at the stone and let out an airy small laugh.

“You should see them, mom. Penelope is still fighting, after twenty years of waiting, she keeps finding new smart and cunning ways to deceive all of those men and alphas. She is Odysseus perfect match.”

She took a small flower from the grass nearby and smiled, smelling the little white petals before placing it at the base of the stele.

“And Telemachus? Oh mother, he is growing so much. He will follow into your son’s footprints and will become a wonderful ruler. My brother will be proud of him, he is not the little kid he left behind anymore.”

Her voice faltered, the words caught between pride and the ache of absence. “I just wish you could be here to see it all… to see us all.”

She rested her palm flat against the stone once more, as if willing her warmth through it. The evening light had turned red golden, washing the grave in a gentle glow, and for a moment, it felt almost as if her mother was listening.

“Oh mother… why couldn’t you stay with us? Why do you decided life was no longer worth it? I don’t understand… Father misses you… I miss you… Penelope cherishes the memories with you and Telemachus has a sad face whenever we talk about you because he remembers what happens when someone loses the faith…”

The breeze shifted, carrying the scent of the sea, and Ctimene drew in a deep breath, letting it steady her heart.

“I’ll come back in a few days,” she whispered. “When I do, I hope I can tell you that everything went well.”

Rising slowly, she brushed the dust from her hands and gave the stone one last look, “And don’t you worry, when my mate and my brother finally come home, you’ll be one of the first ones I’ll come running to.”

Then she turned to walk towards the path home, the fading sun casting her shadow long across the earth.

Ctimene watched her mother weave. She blinked twice to register what was going on. Her mother, Anticlea, was there with her. Alive that is.

She had never been in a dream where everything was so... real looking. Well she supposed this was a dream because she had definitely not spend her childhood from the age of ten onwards in the castle, and her mother, although she did used to weave a lot, had not done so in the rooms as luxurious as those since she was still learning to speak.

Most of her childhood was spent in the countryside, away from the pressure that have nearly driven her father mad, which was why Odysseus had become king so young in the first place.

The room was wide, its walls plastered smooth and tinted with faded ocher, wooden beams crossed the ceiling, dark with age and smoke, and from them hung small bronze lamps that gave the impression of starlight caught indoors. A tall loom rose almost to the ceiling, it's vertical threads taut and gleaming in the firelight, the very heart of the chamber. Ctimene supposed, that, was a description of how huge those things used to be for her when she was a child.

A low couch, little more than a wooden frame with stuffed linen cushions, was near the heart, where the faint smell of olive oil smoke lingered. Which was odd... Were dreams supposed to be able to carry scents?

Well... maybe they did, who was she to judge how the Oneiroi managed their dominions?

Her eyes wandered around, curious about this place. There was luxury here, yes, but the kind that spoke of quiet order rather than opulence. It was weird in some way, Ctimene was sure there was no room like this one back in the castle. She would have noticed this environment, this comfort, this familiarity. Yes, that last one was the word.

Familiarity. Maybe it was because her mother was in it.

She was sitting on the bed, watching Anticlea moving her hands as she weaved, her mother sat tall before the loom, hands steady and sure, as though they had always belonged to that rhythm. The warp threads stretched down in pale, shimmering lines, catching the firelight like rays of dawn trapped in vertical strands. Anticlea's fingers moved with patient grace, slipping the shuttle back and forth, back and forth, carrying the weft threat across the warp. Each pass was followed by a gentle press of the beater, the sound soft and even, like a heartbeat against the object itself.

The wool was quite soft looking, rich and warm in color, undyed whites, soft creams, bright oranges and yellows, and the faint blush of rose from herbs steeped long ago. When her mother paused to draw the thread taut, the fabric glowed faintly, as if it carried life within it.

What struck Ctimene most, however, was not the cloth taking shape but the expression on her mother's face. Anticlea's brow was calm, her lips curved in a faint, almost secret smile, and her brown eyes shone with a kindness that seemed to thread itself into the fabric as surely as the wool did. A painted expression on her face from years ago.

Every motion carried familiarity; the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with the back of her hand, the way she leans forward when the shuttle threatened to snag, the way her shoulders swayed gently as though she were rocking a long unseen child.

Ctimene felt again what it was to be small, to find comfort simply in her mother's presence, to know without words that she was safe. So she kept looking at her mother working and her mother's work.

It was an ordinary and quite normal thing to do, yet in that every strand of wool drawn tight, it was as if something bigger was being created. Watching her, Ctimene eventually realized what was being woven into the tapestry that was forming.

It was a story, with such definite detail, that to put together such a piece should have been something impossible. Yet there it was, she could see it, she could feel it, and even more impressive: She was able to tell what was going on in every scene depicted in the fabric.

Anticlea kept weaving, not paying attention to the things Ctimene's eyes were unveiling. The woman turned child once more witnessed how everything went: a palace in Ithaca, two brothers growing up side by side, friends growing along with them, a goddess being represented in an owl flying always above the boy's head, who soon enough what's no longer only a juvenile.

He became a King. Ithaca's youngest king. Then the tapestry showed a hundred moments of friendship, of akin, of ache, of growth... bonds starting, kids growing, and in such a way, Ctimene saw the passing of time in the depictions.

But, why? She could recognize the patterns below, those belonged to all of them: Penelope, Telemachus, the suitors, herself, she could even see her mother and father own moments. But the ones above, she couldn't make the true shape of all the patterns, some of them she didn't even understand what was going on. There was too much chaos and different events following one after the other.

But, strangely enough, she couldn't stop looking at it. Ctimene could feel her eyes fixed on the different colors, it was as if her own instinct was somehow telling her to try and decipher such a mystery. As if somehow, all of that, contained answers of questions she hadn't even formulated yet.

Time unlocked, she could see past and future running free, but she was blind at the past that did not belong to her. She now was staring at her mother, who kept working without noticing what it was being represented, what she was creating. It seemed that Anticlea, in a certain way just like her, was not able to comprehend what the scenes in the upper part showed.

She could see what seemed to be hundreds of souls straight into the underworld, she couldn't distinguish each of them they were so many. A wish and effort to overcome fate, a path that seemed interrupted by hundreds of obstacles.

Faces of men who now disappeared between red threads, each one of those representing blood staining them. The divided ways of the pattern joined finally in one, just one destiny now. But a lot of people were missing, she didn't know who... She was sure she wouldn't remember this after she woke up but she just knew this was important that this meant something else.

Her mother turned to see her and smiled, her skin then turned cold and immobile, her whole self a stone now. She watched with a disturbed expression on her little face how her mother petrified smile, face and body, crumbled into the floor, the dust being the preamble of the tapestry in front of the sitting on the bed young girl.

It was not finished, but, in some way, it was done. She stood up and walked to the stool, carefully taking the thread and noticing her hands were no longer the ones of a child… her hands were of a woman, a woman waiting… for her family… for her husband... for hope to keep… waiting? … living? …

W-What was she doing now? What would she do if Odysseus never came back… She… she had never thought about it…

Ctimene woke up with a start, her warm breath in the middle of the cold dawn that greeted her. She could barely bring back the dream she had, it all seemed so confusing now. Standing up, she walked to her window, breathing in the too early morning air. She was staring outside when a sound perched on a tree nearby distracted her.

It was a hawk, not unusual, but uncommon for the time of day. She would have expected to see owls, considering how much these creatures loved her brother and, recently, her nephew, who also seemed to show a certain talent and fondness for these birds.

The hawk let out a characteristic cry and, after making sure the woman had seen it clearly, took flight. But what caught Ctimene's attention was the direction it was heading.

With a racing feeling in her chest, she ran outside, quickly, so as not to lose sight of the animal for too long. The door even slammed a little with the force with which she opened it. Ctimene's rapid breathing could be clearly seen in the air, creating mist in front of her eyes, but this didn’t block what she was contemplating in the distance.

The bird was heading toward the castle of Ithaca, the sun beginning to tinge the sky with light blues and pinks of its presence about to rise. Ctimene couldn't explain what happened at that moment, but she just felt it, it was a hunch. Something told her she had to go to the palace. Now.

She rushed through the doors, not even knocking at the one she already knew by heart. Ctimene always went there if she needed trusted company, advice or even a good laugh by teasing someone. She didn't even knock out of politeness, but slipped in quietly and approached the omega who was sleeping peacefully and deeply.

Eumaeus was nuzzling in the pillow, mouth slightly ajar and a little drool coming down. He looked adorable despite the numerous gray streaks on his black hair. Ctimene got next to him and moved him a little, making the man to grumble and open one eye.

“Ctimene? W-What?” he yawned and looked around, one eye still closed, “Is is it time already?”

“Forget about that!” she ordered in whispers. The tone was what immediately woke up the swineherd. “Go fetch Philoetius right now, I need you to come with me to the castle.”

The omega jumped out of bed and grabbed Ctimene by her shoulders, worry showing every gesture, “Are they in danger!? Penelope and Telemachus? Do they need help?”

Ctimene felt a little guilty, hadn’t thought that she would scare him with those thoughts. She smiled and shook her head, something that made the man to exhale a little bit more calm.

“Forgive me my dear Eumaeus. I believe they’re not in danger, but I need to go to the castle. I can’t really tell you more, so please, go get Philoetius. I’m asking this as your Princess.”

The slight acrid scent was immediately replaced by the normal one and the omega nodded obediently, getting on his boots to not lose any more time and go get the beta goatherd. Ctimene went to her room and changed fast as thunder, ready to go in matter of seconds. She had to wake up another slave only to inform him what to tell her father if he wondered where she was at.

Eumaeus and Philoetius were already waiting for her to leave. They didn't ask any more questions, they just followed her. They trusted her and were extremely loyal to the royal family, especially to Odysseus.

They hurried along, walking at a brisk pace. If only they had horses, things would be even faster, but Ithaca was not the right terrain for breeding them, so there were few to none on the island. And the mules that Laertes had were not an option if speed was what they needed. The good thing for Ctimene and her rush desire was that farm workers like Eumaeus and Philoetius were able to cover more ground quickly, accustomed to long treks over rocky terrain. The men also knew plenty of shortcuts since they were quite familiar with the paths.

Eumaeus knew Ctimene was getting frustrated to be the one slowing them all down, especially because of her sandals. Both of the men had chosen their used and reliable boots for high and rocky terrain in order to be faster. The swineherd waited for her and politely offered to carry her, with all the respect of a friend and a servant.

Ctimene was witnessing the sun rising more and more, just like that hunch deep in her heart, so she looked at him with determination and nodded. Eumaeus slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. Ctimene flushed a bit, gripping his shoulder, torn between gratitude and embarrassment. Only her husband Eurylochus had carried her like that in the past. Not even her brother.

And let’s face it, Eumaeus might be older than her and an omega, but he was broad thanks to all the work in the farm and taking care of the livestock.

Philoetius let out a low whistle, falling into step beside them with a grin that stretched ear to ear. Eumaeus rolled his eyes sighing, knowing exactly what was coming for them, Ctimene giggled slightly when the man spoke.

“Careful there, swineherd. Carry her like that and she’ll never walk to the palace again. Next thing we know, she’ll remember her royal status and will demand a golden litter with slaves to fan her all the way from the farm.”

Ctimene stopped giggling but the corner of her lips twitched in spite of herself. She had such a good sensation deep inside. She felt hopeful, like, the waiting was over.

Yes, she was aware this could be a false alarm, this could be just another wild wish from the inside of her womanly heart, but, the dream, the falcon, all the mysticism surrounding the matter, made her certain that it wasn't her idea.

Philoetius jogged a little ahead, tossing the words over his shoulder. “Come on then, don’t dawdle! First one to reach the palace gets the best figs. You wouldn’t let me win, would you, my lady?”

“Hey, but I'm the one carrying her,” complained the swineherd, laughing and raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. But you are her ride, my comrade.”

Ctimene raised her hand and the men stopped. However, their smiles went even wider at Ctimene shout and smile. A smile oh so similar to Odysseus when excitement took over him.

“Come on Eumaeus! Let’s leave him in the dust, you have my permission to run as fast as you can! The sooner we get to the palace the better!”

Both men rushed at the command. Ctimene’s hair was flowing in the wind and she felt her heart searching high above for a light to guide her of what would happen when she arrived. She felt wild and free like that, running to meet the destiny that awaited them.

Chapter Text

The first true lights of morning had barely painted the horizon when they entered Ithaca’s streets, yet the city was already stirring with life.

Thin curls of smoke rose from hearths, carrying the smell of baking delicious bread and the sharp tang of olive oil warming in pans. Merchants were setting out their wares, unrolling rough woolen cloths and stacking baskets brimming with figs, olives, and fresh fish caught in the early hours of the day, the scales gleaming silver under the light.

Ctimene clutched Eumaeus’ shoulder a little tighter, sensing the excitement on the omega as he smiled as a response, her pulse quickened as much from the excitement as from their hurried pace. Goats and chickens wandered freely guided by their caretakers, their sounds mingling with the cries of sellers calling out the freshness of their goods.

Children ran next to them in an even faster pace, playing and yelling with so much energy Ctimene couldn’t help but smile. Some of the little ones were helping their parents, there was a pup that was carrying an amphorae of water too big for his arms, taking out his little tongue while trying not to drop the container. The woman sighed and nuzzled a bit into Eumaeus.

Maybe she could have that as well soon. She always wanted children, little pups running in the castle or her father’s farm. Sunbathed manes of unruly brown or black hair, big eyes or almond shaped ones.

Women swept their thresholds, pausing to gossip in low voices as the trio rushed by. Everywhere, the scents of sea salt, pressed grapes and olives along with damp earth clung to the air.

Oh Ithaca, in the soil there was always a reminder of her beauty and richness. Though humble compared to the greater kingdoms limited by men decrees, this gorgeous island thrived in its own rhythm of sea and soil. Poseidon the only one apart from their king who kept them safe and well provided.

For Ctimene, each visit was filled with an overwhelming yet comforting feeling. After all, the city and the palace was still her home even if she spent the most of her childhood in the countryside.

This was her brother’s city, her family’s home, alive and breathing at every corner. Filled with waiting population, waiting mothers, waiting fathers, waiting brothers and sisters, waiting mates who just like her, kept looking at the horizon in hopes for a new beginning.

She knew most of them had lost faith and hope, but she was still standing. After her mother passing the way she did, she had to. And not only Anticlea’s memory fueled her, come on: Penelope, oh the strong Queen of Ithaca. Her sister in everything but blood. How could she afford to lose faith when Penelope was so confident and hanging in there?

Of course she would never entirely understand why or better said how Odysseus, her smartass but kind and dorky brother, had managed to get such a woman like Penelope.

But well, Penny was her sister, so, she couldn’t and wouldn’t complain. And Telemachus was such a darling, so, big plus there as well. She loved her nephew so much.

Ctimene giggled at the reminder of how adorable Telemachus was when he was little, babbling when he was learning how to walk, making Odysseus squeal and yell in excitement, making Anticlea, Penelope, and her to laugh. Laertes taking his palm into his face, grumbling with the reaction of Odysseus.

Let’s say both Odysseus and Laertes loved their kids a lot, but in very different ways. Odysseus soaked excitement and love towards Telemachus while Laertes usually ruffled your hair, perturbing his serious expression to gift you a smile and hugged you when he was proud of you.

When Odysseus left, Ctimene was able to see Telemachus even more, thanks to Anticlea and Laertes visiting them often to deal with the grief and also to not let Penelope alone too much.

She loved to receive flowers from the little pup, Telemachus rushing to greet her with a huge smile, making little cute jumps of excitement, calling her auntie and then standing in tip toes to offer her a flower from the palace gardens. He kept doing that until she told him that she loved such beautiful gifts but she would love even more to watch the flowers growth with him.

Oh, Ctimene swore that day Telemachus’ blue big eyes had stars on them of how excited he was. Maybe she had to be watching flowers with the little one for hours, but she didn’t mind. Her nephew was delightful. Sometimes she missed Telemachus as a little kid or even a juvenile, but she always had to remember he was a full grown up. He was a man; a kind, smart, responsible and quite gifted young omegan man.

Maybe the boys would be able to teach him so many things… Polites would love to see how much they had in common, her beloved alpha would train the prince to be strong like him and she could imagine how much they would bond in training. And Odysseus, well, of course he would be emotional and sentimental at the missed growth of Telemachus and lost time, but she was certain he would be such a good father. He was such a wonderful big brother and he loved kids so much.

Ctimene was certain that if he hadn't had to go to war and somehow been lost for twenty years, he and Penelope would have been one of those kings with many children. They were so in love, and their love was legendary, that she could swear Telemachus would have been the older brother of five or six younger siblings. And what a good brother he would have been.

The woman knew very well that she shouldn't be getting her hopes up, but the excitement of her hunch wasn't helping her in the slightest. In a way, Ctimene believed that you reap what you sow, and she had been waiting for so long that it was impossible to receive anything other than happiness.

That's how things were... Right?

Well, Ctimene seemed to have forgotten the reality of the world: a beautiful place but, in the crudest form to say it, it's also an unfair one.

They say that pain and joy go hand in hand. And yet one would rather live with hope than live in a cold, gray world without any sun. Well, that’s also a reality, but it takes a while to figure it out, and it’s a personal thing to discover. The nature of the human realm.

When the three arrived at the palace, they all felt a chill. There were no guards at the dark ivory stone archway entrance. Eumaeus placed Ctimene down, who was staring ahead, looking somewhat disturbed at the stone path that lead to the castle.

Everything was too quiet... too quiet to be a good thing.

They looked at each other, knowing they were thinking the same thing. Eumaeus took out a knife he always carried for anything he might need while tending to the pigs, and Philoetius followed suit.

The trees and bushes looked cheerful in the sun, the birds sang soft melodies, almost as if to say that everything was finally fine after so long, yet the atmosphere was anything but peaceful and happy. Ctimene walked behind the two men, feeling every hair on her skin stand on end at the unsettling silence.

It didn't help her to realize that unlike the beta man, Eumaeus' arm showed small dots of goosebumps. She knew enough to know that the omega sensed imminent danger and was saying nothing so as not to distress her.

They realized that the doors were locked from the outside. The men unlocked them, and when the light came in, they stumbled and let out a gasp of horror and surprise.

Ctimene immediately covered her mouth, her pupils shrinking and darting around with horror written in her eyes. Eumaeus clutched the knife to keep from being overwhelmed by the smell that lingered from the anguish of the trapped and murdered alphas, and Philoetius’s mouth was slightly open.

“I think the wrath of the gods descended upon the castle,” Philoetius murmured, watching all of the corpses carefully. “This is… I mean… this are the suitors bodies, aren’t they?”

Ctimene nodded, unable to say a word, and Eumaeus stared at the blood covering almost entirely the floor, he could take it, but now that he was wondering how could he not be present for such an important moment, his chariot of thought stopped entirely. There was a scent, it was something…

Eumaeus sniffed once and he gasped, his eyes having a sphere of light at the realization.

Oak moss with clover and a subtle hint of cinnamon.

“Odysseus…”

“Huh?” Philoetius blurted, raising an eyebrow, “What was that?”

Eumaeus got excited, smiling hard and turning to see Ctimene with the brightest beam on him the woman had ever seen in her life, making her heart to jump in her chest, “It’s Odysseus! He’s back! He’s back, Ctimene!”

The woman felt how everything felt warm, too much, she started slightly to tremble.

“A-Are you sure?”

Finally? Is it real? Is it true? Could it be?

“Yes! Yes I’m sure! His scent is here! I can’t be mistaken! My king is back!”

He is back… Oh my gods, my brother is back! My husband is home! It’s over! Ctimene smiled and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, It’s all over! We can finally be together all of us!

Ctimene wait no longer and dashed further into the castle, ignoring the men calling for her stepping over blood puddles, but she didn’t care. She was envisioning a dark skinned man who looked at her tenderly, smiling at her and saying her name.

“Ctimene”

“She should be careful,” Philoetius said, running to try and match the princess pace with no use, “We don’t know if there are survivors that might try to take advantage by capturing her and using a royal as a hostage.”

Eumaeus, nodded, running fast but still wearing slight smile on his face. Finally, it was all over, he only needed to see Penelope and Telemachus were fine and he would be able to live happily wherever they decided. The castle, with the old king in the farm. It wouldn’t matter anymore, his friends he cared so much and who his loyalty belonged, were safe once more.

Ctimene almost tripped over two corpses, and as she turned a corner, she had to stop to avoid bumping into a figure who was startled to see her.

“Aunt? What are you doing here? Didn't you get my letter?”

Ctimene threw herself into his arms, startling the prince, who responded to the embrace with a smile of his own. The woman pulled away and showed a little concern when she noticed his appearance.

“Telemachus! What's wrong with me? I'm so lost in my head that I didn't see you properly! By Athena, you're covered in blood… Please tell me it's not yours,” she asked, grabbing his forearms and looking at him anxiously.

The royal smiled sheepishly, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. “Well, I mean I do have injuries, but it’s nothing serious aunt, really, don’t worry.”

Ctimene raised her hand to touch Telemachus’ cheek, smiling and trying to erase the dried blood of the skin.

“I’m so glad. But you should take a bath before seeing Penelope. You’re the only heir, you can’t be giving your mother a jump-scare like this.”

The prince opened his eyes wider and had a reaction Ctimene was puzzled about. He tried to repress a smile, his mouth twitching and cheeks flushing in a spring pink, his hand moved to the front like wanting to touch something but he moved his fingers nervously, opting to quickly grab his contrary forearm behind his back.

Telemachus cleared his throat and smiled at her… but this smile was… different.

She couldn’t exactly tell, so she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. The young man breathed in and out a few moments to compose himself and looked at her. Ctimene was certain the glassiness on Telemachus eyes was an indicator he was about to cry, although she might be wrong, he seemed so enveloped in happiness.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll make sure to not worry mother. But you should go to her room, aunt. My father is back, and he will probably want to greet you after talking with my mom.”

Yeahhh… Ctimene threw a glance to the side, smiling in tease at the words barely spoken by her nephew.

Oh right… after twenty years apart they’re only going to talk, cry and hold each other… yeah right, oh my sweet boy, you can be so innocent sometimes…

“Thank you Telemachus, I shall go and wait for them.”

Ctimene knew a little about the identity of the suitor that was courting Telemachus. She had to hide the truth to absolutely everyone, knowing it might jeopardize the already delicate situation in the palace.

She hadn’t seen the corpse of that Antinous man yet, so, she assumed he was a survivor. She was not really sure which option between being dead or alive was better for Telemachus’ good, she knew extremely little about the whole issue.

The prince told exactly where to find Odysseus and before he left, Ctimene called him and asked how many men had participated in the massacre. Telemachus blinked twice and tilted his head, the answering stopping Ctimene’s heart for a moment.

“I think only me and my father, aunt. I didn’t see anybody else… My father did most of the killing, I only killed a few of them.”

She watched him go and blinked several times, trying to get her head around it.

Odysseus… did this? He killed all these alphas… alone? No, that’s nonsense, even if plenty of them switched sides and some left, they were too many. Probably it was Telemachus not noticing the others… he probably confused Polites and Eurylochus with other suitors, heck the castle is huge, probably they didn’t meet each other.

Ctimene went to Penelope's room, which she already knew by heart.

Yes, that must be.

Laertes inherited a huge responsibility from his father and grandfather, following the successions that made him the king of the Cephallenians, his rule extending over the island of Ithaca and its surrounding ones. But in the end, Ithaca was the mentioned one, the main island of his dominions and, the one where he resided.

And this alpha king was a legend on himself, after all, the echo of great adventures followed his steps. He had sailed eastward with Jason and the Argonauts, rowing through unknown seas and braving the dangers of Colchis itself.

Though he was not the one to claim the Golden Fleece, he earned his companions’ trust as a steady hand, a man who could keep his courage in the face of gods and monsters. And following the hand of adventure, his spear had stayed loyal and filled with determination in the Calydonian Hunt, where the fiercest warriors gathered to bring down the monstrous boar sent by the goddess Artemis.

He proved himself not by boasting, but by standing firm when others faltered.

And this prevailed in his legacy to his people. Unlike many who had tasted glory, Laertes didn’t build his kingdom on endless war. Instead, he took upon what his island offered and did the most with it: olives, figs, grapes, and harbors safe for sailors. He planted orchards with his own hands, showing his people that the land itself could be a legacy.

The alpha king forged alliances with neighboring rulers he had once sailed beside, and through trade and oaths of loyalty, he strengthened Ithaca’s place among the Ionian islands.

Still, the memories are hard on the soul, and Laertes knew this by heart. He would never forget the harsh lessons of the sea, and his experience lead him to see the threats lurking around: pirates prowling the waters and raiders who coveted the Ithacan shores.

He took action to prevent disasters.

Laertes trained his people well, teaching shepherds to fight with slings and fishermen to wield spears, turning the cliffs and rocky passes of the island into natural strongholds. That way, Ithaca became known as small, but unassailable, its people although warm and kind, also able prove how strong and enduring they were, just as the stones of their very land.

This was a legacy Laertes was proud about, a legacy he was sure his son, Odysseus, would take good care of. After all, the boy knew what it meant to inherit the crown. And he would make sure to prepare the boy for when the time came.

But Laertes was also a father, and he loved his family. He had gotten a beautiful mate, a wife whose lineage was also a legendary one, he had two lovely children and, overall, despite the endless stress and nightmares of the past. He was a happy man.

Many times, right after dinner, the juvenile and the pup, each in their own way, begged for Laertes to tell stories of his heroic deeds and adventures. Laertes would then gather his pack near one of the hearts and start the tales to the marveled youngsters, sometimes even the servants and slaves joined, listening in awe at the mighty king.

Odysseus was listening in completely awe at the age of seven, almost eight. In the space between his legs sat three-year-old Ctimene, playing as she listened with a toy dog that was large enough not to pose a danger to her.

A few of the servants and slaves’ pups were around, listening and reacting to Laertes tale. Anticlea smiled next to her faithful maids who seemed as surprised as the rest. Odysseus, barely able to keep still, leaned forward with bright eyes, while little Ctimene mirrored her brother’s eagerness.

The king’s voice carried the weight of battles and the salt of sea voyages. He would tell them of his youth, when he sailed not as a ruler, but as a companion of heroes. Laertes spoke with pride about the days were the deck creaked beneath the weight of so many alphas and warriors, each destined for glory.

The servants murmured and felt the energy of the king while he described the golden haired twins Castor and Pollux sparring playfully on deck, making the kids laugh with his representation of the chaos those two made aboard. The maids sighed at the mention of Orpheus, whose lyre calmed even the roughest storms.

“And you fought with them, father? With the Argonauts?” Odysseus blurted, almost unable to believe that the man in front of him had once stood shoulder to shoulder with the greatest of Greek heroes.

He knew his father was legendary, but he was there with them all the time, so, the legends sometimes seemed only legends.

Odysseus wondered if one day he would be able to weave his own tale into history, if he would ever be as legendary as his father. If he would fight monsters, gain respect and come back home with a story of his own to tell.

Laertes chuckled softly, the alpha pride in his chest tempered by humility.

“I was not the mightiest among them, nor the cleverest. But I held my ground, and when the Argo returned, I brought her honor back to Ithaca. That is enough for a man, son.”

“Wooow,” a child voice sounded, Odysseus turning to see Eumaeus smiling with such admiration towards his father, “You must be the most legendary legend here in the palace, your highness.”

There were a few chuckles and Laertes eyes fell on the boy, smiling at him with great care. Laertes knew that the kid respected him a lot and was extremely loyal, after all, he bought the pup as a slave from a phoenician ship when he was so little and frightened. All he got from the ones who sold him was that the child was kidnapped from his home by his nurse, but the woman had died on the journey so, he was alone now.

Laertes presented Eumaeus with a dear friend of his there in the castle, a kind beta slave who welcomed the child and together with his wife, adopted the pup as one of their very own sons. Eventually, Eumaeus was so happy to be safe in a place where he was loved, that he became extremely loyal to the crown.

The king was about to speak when a female voice interrupted him.

“Well, I’m sure my beloved alpha is a legend, but don’t forget my dear, that I’ve got a few stories of my own side of the family.”

Eumaeus smiled towards Queen Anticlea, excited along with all the other kids to hear more. He didn’t fear the woman at all, he knew it mostly as Odysseus' mother, and she treated him as an equal. Something not even king Laertes did all the time.

Anticlea smiled, walking past her husband and smiling at him, leaving Laertes to follow her with a knowing smile of his own. The Queen was not easily surprised, after all, she was the daughter of the legendary master thief, the Prince of Thieves: Autolycus.

“You all know my father, Autolycus, who was unlike any man in Hellas.” She got closer to Eumaeus and booped his nose, making the child to giggle, “Some called him a thief, others a trickster,” she got near the fire, placing a hand on her chest in pride and tilting her head, “but I call him a genius.”

Odysseus was listening with every single strand of attention he had. He loved his grandfather, and he was as amazing and mysterious as his mother was telling. Maybe a little too crazy, but he enjoyed so much spending time with him.

“He could slip into a house full of guards, walk out with its treasures, and the very next day, those same men would swear he was an honored guest.” Anticlea placed her hands on her hair, the silhouette behind her making as if she had wings on it. “Cunning as Hermes himself, people say and whisper all around, and I believe them. As he is not only a cunning man, rumors have him to be son of the very swift messenger god.”

Laertes sighed. Yeah, he never had a chance when Anticlea pulled out of her himation the card of her father being an actual demigod who inherited not only Hermes divine lineage, but also the messenger god's skills and abilities and quite a good batch of personality features.

Truly, nobody was actually sure about the Hermes descendant part, but he did not doubt about it. Autolycus was something else entirely.

The children’s eyes widened and Odysseus could feel the weight of the stares on him. They were expecting so much of him, but, for good or bad, he was lost in his parents’ tales to let that weight to make him nervous.

“It was he who taught Heracles himself the art of wrestling,” Anticlea continued, lowering her voice as though it were a dangerous secret. “Even the gods admire him, wit sharper than any sword. And do you know, little ones, who gave the prince his name?”

Odysseus tilted his head, his young brow furrowed but surprised to the very core. “Grandfather did?”

“Yes,” the queen nodded, her lips curving into a smile both tender and knowing. “Your grandfather saw your spirit before you had even opened your eyes. He knew you would face hardships, storms no ordinary man could endure. But he believes in you my darling, he knows that with your mind and your sharpness, you will always find a way to endure.”

Odysseus turned to see his father as to confirm this, Laertes sighed and tilted his head, “You know your grandfather. As crazy as he is, that is the gift of Autolycus. He kind of knows stuff.”

Anticlea chuckled, watching how Ctimene was dozing on her brother. She picked her up and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead before kissing it.

And, after everything was done and both kings were walking, the queen with Ctimene on her arms and Odysseus by his father’s side, she looked at her beloved son, claiming his attention again with her words.

“So you see, my love, you are born of heroes on both sides. From your father, courage and kingship. From my father, wit and cunning. You carry both in your blood. Remember that… because one day, the world will demand it of you.”

Laertes chuckled, shaking his head, but there was pride in his eyes as he looked at his mate. Odysseus nodded and looked at the corridor in front of him, lit by the torches on the wall. His heart swelling with the weight of a legacy far greater than himself.

The dark blue eyes were lifeless, head looking to a side as if the cadaver could witness the few flies over the puddle of sticky and dense blood tainting the cold stone floor. There were many bodies around. All coming together in a scene that could twist the guts of many.

The arrows had no mercy just like their wielder. Piercing heads, throats, and even more places. The arrowheads completely covered in blood, the metal still dripping slightly as it protruded from the chest, the socket of an eye, or even the abdomen of the bodies.

A young alpha was standing in the middle of it all. Too accustomed to death for it to be a bother.

It was an old accountant.

The black eyes looked down at the blond alpha who was the first to die in the massacre, there was no sadness, regret, or pain in them. Only contemplation, thoughts in the silence of that mind.

The long hair tied in a low ponytail, along with the red chlamys, revealed the identity of the suitor.

Antinous felt his brow furrowing deeper with every second that his attention remained on Eurymachus. For it was not an easy decision, it was crucial for the one he used to call brother and, at the same time, it’s was a small act of mercy on his part.

The thing here was… did he want to do it?

No one would place coins in the eyes of the dead suitors. No one would care about them enough there in the palace to pay for their safe passage through the waters of the sacred underworld river. He had a few with him in the moment, but he couldn’t get himself to reach for them.

Why? Why to do such a thing when they ended up as enemies, as distanced partners in crime who even tried to bring the other down with death if it was required?

And not only that. Antinous remembered at that moment of reflection everything Eurymachus had done or allowed... everything that had hurt Telemachus during those years. His eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, faintly growling as if Eurymachus could see his anger and irritation at the past.

Shadows were settling on the place that the young blond suitor left. But at the same time, all the heavy loads, sorrows and moments they shared together were advocating for the man. After all, Antinous deep down care for Eurymachus was trying to bring to the surface the fact that he was still breathing only by lucky whim of the Moirai, trying to move his forced-by-habit cold ass heart to have a little compassion on the suitor’s soul.

Most of Antinous’ feelings of friendship towards Eurymachus were dead and were far gone. Especially with all the memories of the moments and words rushing like a landslide into his consciousness.

“You don’t even need the queen for that Antinous, we have the whore of her son, and he’ll for certain be the same. Perhaps even better, after all, they say it runs in the family, like dogs. The mama is sick, so will the puppy dogs.”

Eurymachus allowed Melantho to harm Telemachus… to play and toy with him in such a mean and cruel way.

"She did what she had to do, she's always willing to do it."

Antinous clenched his fingers tightly to his palm, snarling at the body.

“…our main problem is that young pup the big wolf left behind, he is the rightful water pouring over our fires… we need to extinguish his fighting spirit.”

“We need to kill him. As soon as possible. Before he even gets the chance to go into heat. That or we’ll need to plot a way to throw a newborn out into the sea without being noticed.”

“I say we all gather near the beaches and wait till he arrives, and when he docks his ship then we can breach it. Today it’s our opportunity to strike him and even have a little reward before disposing of him.”

“You will hold him down and have your fun with him, once he can no longer put up a fight, I’ll slit his throat and will break his pride as a Prince, his trust in the world, his faith and his very bones. Then we’ll cut him down into tiny pieces, throwing his remains in the great below… and when the crown or his mate wonder where the Prince is, only the ocean and us suitors will know.”

Even with such moments making his stomach to twist in indignation, what was flaring his anger to the maximum as he was standing there, surrounded by death, blood and sepulchral silence, was the final thing he and his woman did before all of this happening.

The pain they both enjoyed inflicting on Telemachus, because, of course, in their plans, he himself was collateral damage. Their target was the prince, the omegan prince of Ithaca.

The young royal was the one who posed a real danger to their plans because he could bring a new gamepiece to the battle board, even if neither Antinous or Telemachus ever intended for their embodiment of their deep and lasting bond between their heart and souls to participate in the survival game.

“Oh please don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault Telemachus is as useless as an omega as he is as a prince… Wouldn’t you agree, Prince of Ithaca?”

“Just go, your wailing little wolf needs his comfort toy to stop pathetically crying.”

Antinous got flashbacks that made his fists to hurt because of the nails stabbing his palms in response of his anger. The alpha remembered. He wished he could not, but the memories carved themselves too deeply to ever be erased, the way his light had been suffering for so long. Thinking he would lose him to his father—which he was actually right—and trying desperately to keep a little piece of them in his life.

They had tried. Gods, how they had tried. They counted the days carefully, clung to small signs like warmth in Telemachus’ skin, a heaviness in his body, a flutter of nausea that might, just might, mean their efforts had been worth it.

But each time, the omega’s abdomen remained as plain and unchanging as ever, the flatness mocking their hopes. And with it came the silence for a while… the awful, suffocating silence that fell over them as hope bled away.

Antinous could still see the grieving moments in his head as if it were yesterday…

Telemachus sitting on the edge of their bed, fingers trembling against the fabric of his chiton, tears slipping down his cheeks though he tried so desperately to swallow them.

“I don’t understand… It should be working… I-I mean… I’m fine… I’m fine aren’t I?”

Then, before he could even say something, his shoulders would shake with the kind of grief that no words could soothe, his voice breaking as he whispered things that tore him apart.

“We’re running out of time… Athena said it would be years before father could come home… but years have passed by already… I don’t know how many more we have…”

The memory burned. Telemachus’ hands pressing against his own abdomen, as though it had betrayed him. And a few minutes later, the echo of his sobs, muffled against Antinous’ chest. Those sounds would always torment his dreams the following nights.

He had held him back then, kissed the wetness from his cheeks, whispered that it was not his fault, but inside, he too had drowned. Wondering if it was his fault, if it was a sign that he was only hurting Telemachus and he would always do… no matter how much he changed… no matter what he did… maybe this was the price of thinking, of daring to think, he could be fully happy.

He too had felt the sharp, bitter sting of every empty three to four lunar cycles, every false dawn of hope extinguished. The pain of not being able to give his light what he wished for.

More memories from the past about such aching moments flooded him and made the rage inside to erupt into a growl directed to Eurymachus’ body.

Antinous had gone searching for him, it was late, he should be in bed by now. He was even planning to tease him about acting like a child and not wanting to be put to bed.

The corridors of the palace were heavy with silence, and he already had a good intuition of where to look. Telemachus always seemed to carry himself often into places where knowledge was stored, as though answers might be pressed into ink and words.

Answers to life, to the empty space his father represented, the way he could use every advantage into his favor to be a better man, a better mate, and a better future king.

The prince had fallen asleep at one of the wide tables in the library, his head pillowed on his folded arms, the flickering light of a half-burned oil lamp on his face. His mouth was parted slightly, breath shallow with exhaustion.

The alpha sighed heavily when he reached him, placing his hand in his forehead to move a strand of dark chestnut hair as he smiled gently. He was about to carry him to bed when he paused, narrowing his eyes to read the scrolls and then opening his eyes in both surprise and pain.

Lines of scripts and documents spoke of male omegas, heat cycles, rites and remedies, about herbs meant to coax life where the body seemed unwilling. Fertility ancient medicines, some of them obvious half-superstitious recipes written in fading ink. Some sections were underlined, smudged with the faint trace of Telemachus’ fingertips, as though he had read them again and again, desperate to grasp some secret hidden between the lines.

Antinous lowered his gaze to him, imagining Telemachus forcing himself to stay awake, red-rimmed eyes straining over the words, hunting for an explanation, for a cure, for a promise that he was not broken. The very thought of him sitting there in silence, gnawing at his lip and feeling smaller with every scroll, filled Antinous with a raging anger.

This was consuming him. But Antinous knew it was because he was scared. Scared of loss, of being alone once more, of losing him and all that they had built in those last years. All the secret laughter, the complicit looks to each other, the way they could fight freely and then find a way to make it up. The way their bodies could read each other perfectly, resulting into their most favorite story in the world, written not in ink, but in every bite, bruise, scar and beauty mark on their skins.

The omega was terrified of being abandoned and honestly, in his life story, it was quite understandable. Loss and abandonment had left painful scars on Telemachus’ heart.

And they had talked about it after their first failed attempt. Telemachus didn’t mind waiting three, five, even a decade to have kids of their own. But with the threat of Antinous getting killed by Odysseus the second he came back home, the prince was more than willing— quite determined actually —to bring forward the family plans. After all, they were both adults and in perfect age to do such a thing.

Even a little behind in consideration of Greek standards. 

A baby was the only way Telemachus saw to keep him by his side if Odysseus murdered him. After all, Penelope could hang in there thanks to her son. And Telemachus could see this and feel it.

Antinous knew this cruel world didn’t give out presents just for being good, but Telemachus did not deserve that pain.

...

He was certain even now that Telemachus suffered all of that out of a terrible injustice.

The dark skinned suitor scoffed, turning his head and body to walk away and allow Hermes to do his job whenever he arrived. But suddenly, he stopped on his tracks, the inner light within him finally finding the right arguments to tug his heart's strings.

Yes, maybe both Eurymachus and Melantho were sons of each respective bitch… But he was even worse than them. Not only in the things he actually did… but in things that he could have done and actually, if it weren’t for Telemachus and his change of heart, he would’ve done…

He didn’t became a full-fledged monster because he was given a chance despite everything.

Now was the time to remember a little of everything he had done to Telemachus, all the suffering he had caused him…

“You know little wolf. Eurymachus is right about one think. You do take after your mother. And I wonder, how much?”

“Go back and cry in your corner. Oh, and make sure your mother hears. Tell her that if she won’t choose a man to adorn her, we’ll bring blood and tears,”

“If the only way to get the throne is to force the queen to choose one of us, then whatever has to be done will be done. If you must die so that Ithaca may prosper, so be it. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach my goals. I won’t stop.”

Furthermore, if it hadn't been for his weakness in the face of Aniketos charisma, pull and ideology his mentor pulling the strings, molding him until he became an embodiment of what the man believed and desired... so many things would probably have been different...

“When you understand that we have to accept anything in order to get what we want, you will be able to do it. That and much more, Antinous,”

“Rumors are always there. A strong and lonely queen refusing to protect her own to choose a king...an unfit prince to inherit the throne. Doesn't that sound like the perfect situation for new blood to enter royalty? Much more suitable, worthy to rule.”

“You were trusted in my hands as nothing more than children, and today, I return you to the world as warriors, as molders of the world. Don’t disappoint me, destroy and conquer at whatever you desire.”

“Anyone who stands in my way… the royals are unfit to rule… the queen is no longer worthy of the kingdom, and the prince is an obstacle in the way to the throne.”

“Yes! And what do we do to obstacles?”

“If needed we remove them from the path, like filthy weeds. We wait, for the perfect time to strike... and the dawn will come with a red blood sky.”

Antinous eyes were staring at the floor, feeling once more the nasty and angsty twist on his guts. Because the nightmare were he actually never changed, and didn’t realize how he preferred happiness, love, and light instead of satisfaction, emptiness and darkness…would always… plague at least once his whole mind every certain amount of time…

“Get off me! No, no, no, please! No!”

Antinous shook his head to take his thoughts away of such horrible nightmarish thing and looked around. He was alive, now he was not only safe from being killed as a suitor, but also he and Telemachus were looking forward to a new future.

A bright future that had just revealed to them along with the first rays of the sun.

The black-haired alpha sighed heavily, placing a hand on his neck to massage it and letting out a growl shortly after.

Turning around and reaching the corpse, he opened the bag he had taken with coins for his fallen in battle comrades of his pack, this in order to pay for their souls for Charon to take them safely to their next moment in the afterlife.

Taking two from the small leather bag, he pressed his lips together in annoyance as he placed them on Eurymachus' eyelids.

Such action taking him quite a bit of effort after realizing that closing the stiffed eyelids was proving to be tricky because of the body cooling down with no more warmth in it.

Having completed his act of mercy, Antinous stood up, and without taking his eyes off him for a moment, let out a low growl, baring his teeth slightly as he did so.

“I may be paying for your soul, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven you. I don't think that's a possibility.”

The alpha grunted and walked away, only turning once to see the blond one one final time.

“Goodbye, brother... you chose your fate. As did I.”

Chapter Text

Antinous walked through the castle corridors, truly noticing everything around him for the first time.

His fingers brushed the stones of the walls, rough-hewn blocks cool beneath his touch, their grainy texture carrying the chill of the night still trapped within them. His obsidian gaze lingered on the woven tapestries and dyed fabrics that softened the sternness of the stone, threads forming intricate patterns of beasts and long forgotten victories. The recessive cold of the morning pressed into his skin, making him shiver as he inhaled the mingled scents of incense and metallic tang of blood that still cling to the air.

The man’s hearing caught his breathing as the only living presence in the entire place. Even the silence seemed heavy, broken only by the hollow echo of his own footsteps against the floor.

The surviving suitors of his pack had been taken to the dungeons. After all, the trials were still meant to happen, so, the castle was finally, in silence after twenty years.

His stride faltered near the corridor that led to the queen’s chambers. He had no intention of even approaching, death had already brushed close when he was at the hands of the king, and he didn’t intend to tempt fate. Yet there, against the wall of the corridor, the suitor caught sight of a silhouette, a figure seated on the floor with its back resting against the cold stone.

His curiosity stirred. Had some suitor gotten close enough to almost reach Penelope's chambers?

The alpha got closer and his sharp eyes opened in surprise at the identity of the apparently sleeping person sitting there.

Isn’t she Telemachus’ aunt? What’s she doing there on the floor?

The woman was tucked in her clothes the best she could and had fallen deep asleep, judging by her tiny smile, dreaming of something good. Antinous got closer and crouched, the motion noiseless, though every part of him told him he had no business kneeling there. Curiosity, however, pressed him closer, urging his gaze to linger.

He was always observant and a tactician, and now that he saw her face, the thought couldn’t stop bugging him.

If I thought Telemachus was similar to his mother, screw that. Now that I’ve seen that bastard, the similarity between brothers is uncanny…

The same brow, brown hair untamable and wild, practically the same smell and… different, yes. But disturbingly similar. He raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes. There was something… something odd about her.

Antinous had never had the chance to see her features properly, nor to exchange a single word with her. Penelope was fierce like a mountain lion with her, fulfilling the role of mother and big sister quite well every time the eternal Princess of Ithaca was there to pay the royals a visit.

His hand moved before his thoughts could catch it, fingers brushing back a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her profile and was blocking the entire picture. For a moment he carefully studied her as if searching for Odysseus in her sleeping face. Then, when she shifted and her face was clearer to Antinous, he felt a shiver of unease cut through him, recoiling, breath catching and blood chilling. Drawing back his hand, he stood up, the ghost of a growl in his throat.

She was the old king, softened and turned into woman’s features. And even so, it was the real aura what caused that chill along his spine, his inner alpha had sensed it.

She is without a doubt, sister of the old man.

Sudden and raw came the memory of the first time Odysseus’ eyes had turned toward him. That unflinching gaze, sharp as a drawn blade, measuring, calculating, a clear wish to make the heartbeat on his chest to stop even before the slaughter began.

The corridor seemed colder, narrower. Antinous exhaled, quiet but heavy, uncomfortable at the similarity between the brothers. He sighed, drinking into the reality of things. This woman right here, in front of him, would soon be considered his family as well. After all, he and Telemachus would finally join in matehood when the time were right.

The black-haired young man smiled, the thought of the prince like the sun behind cold winter clods. Forgetting the shiver and discomfort from seconds ago, he tasted those words on his mind and tongue. All this time of searching for a home, and he had found it. He found peace and love in the most unexpected place in the world. And now… Antinous curve went even wider, a little speck of light on his eyes.

Telemachus was bearing in him the fruit of all the adventures, every feeling, all the moments and the whole journey that brought them here.

They could be free. Finally. No more hiding, no more secrets… even if they had scars, he could let go of the past. He breathed in and exhaled, feeling so light and content.

I should go look for Telemachus, I want some time alone with him. We both deserve it. Thought as he walked away. Barely a few steps far from Ctimene when there was a scent that forced him to focus at the entrance of the corridor to assess the situation.

He didn't recognize the men who were watching him suspiciously, weapons out and ready to attack him. But from their expressions, they recognized him.

Damn it, I screwed with the lives and patience of over half, if not everyone in the palace. What the hell did I do to these two? he asked to himself, looking fed up.

He really didn't have the best motivation to stay and face two slaves, one beta and the other omega.

Philoetius and Eumaeus knew who the man standing dangerously next to Ctimene was. Antinous… that beast needed no introduction, they knew it by heart. Leader of the suitors, one of the cruelest, most intelligent, and most malicious men invading the palace. Or rather, who used to invade it. He was the worst option Ctimene could have encountered.

None of them knew or even suspected that the man they saw was not who he had been before. They only had in mind to defend and protect Ctimene from the alpha to take revenge by using her as a hostage.

“You're a damn rat,” Philoetius said hatefully. Antinous narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the men's posture and knives. “How did you escape from the king?”

“Oh, wouldn't you love to know?” Antinous sneered, taking a couple of steps forward, letting his scent out so they would understand he wasn't playing.

Eumaeus reacted immediately, giving a little start and growling at him, feeling proud to see the suitor pause, instead of looking at his weapon, his gaze fixed on his fangs and eyes.

The suitor rethought his strategy and raised an eyebrow, considering his next move.

“I have no interest in harming you or her,” he muttered, nodding toward Ctimene. “Let me pass. I must find the prince.”

Both closed any chance Antinous had of walking out the corridor, the men glaring at him and making sure to recover Ctimene with every step they gave forward, the sleeping woman now behind them. The suitor stopped the second he noticed he was about to enter a range any alpha would consider a trespassing of territorial boundaries. He was only a few meters from Penelope’s door. After everything that happened, Antinous knew he would die if he gave a step closer. Odysseus would notice his presence and could even believe he was there to betray them.

Yeah no, fuck it.

“I won’t back a single step more,” warned, suppressing his scent and baring fangs. “You let me go, or I’ll make you…”

“No I don’t think so,” the omega whispered, pupils turning slightly sharper, a low growl proving he was reacting to the threat.

“We will protect our prince and the royal family from you, even if we have to die in the intent,” the beta added.

Tense seconds could be breathed, bodies getting ready to strike. The three of them were already flexing to lounge into fighting when a voice made them turn straight into the entrance of the corridor.

“You know, I’d love for the first day with my family together not to end with one of the other people important to me suffering a serious injury that needs treatment.”

The prince was watching them, shaking his head and smiling slyly. Both beta and omega lowered their weapons, though they remained confused. And it didn't help at all when Telemachus approached the suitor and took his face in his hands, closing his eyes as he pulled the alpha toward him to kiss him.

Both were stunned, then calculating, suddenly going back into shock, and then registering the scene of the suitor closing his eyes too, humming in delight and kissing back the royal. By the time both Eumaeus and Philoetius wrapped their heads around it, Antinous was already placing a hand on Telemachus’ hip and slowly moving it to his backside.

The older omega’s mouth dropped comically, while Philoetius blushed and flinched, not even wanting to believe what he was looking at. Unfortunately for the suitor, the young man recalled they had company and slapped the hand about to grab his backside in a teasing and shameless way.

“Nuh huh… You keep your dirty paws in place, Anti. It’s not the time nor the place.”

Antinous groaned and pretended to feel oh so hurt.

“You mean that after almost dying today, I don’t deserve to be spoiled, little wolf?”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but the smile got wider. “Oh stop being such a drama actor… They are friends of the family; you shall not touch them. Got it?”

 He acts like a guard dog now, both men couldn’t help to think. If the suitor had a tail, it would be slightly wagging, soft and slow but proving devotion and possession.

Antinous looked at them and then at Telemachus, that being enough confirmation for the prince. The royal omega turned to see them and smiled pleased.

“I’m so glad to see you. I assume you come escorting my aunt, don’t you?” with the affirmation, Telemachus nodded once, “Very well, I shall show you were my aunt’s bedroom is. And then I shall show you the rooms you can use. I hope soon enough for my father to greet you properly after so many years far from home.”

As they walked, they tried not to focus on the blood that still covered various parts of the castle. Eumaeus was silent, following the young men while his companion carried Ctimene on this occasion. The woman slept like a log.

Antinous glanced secretively at Telemachus, the young man with a soft, tired smile. The prince felt his cheeks flush when he felt his suitor's warm hand dare to take his with all the calmness in the world.

“How are you feeling?”

He would never let Telemachus live past the fact some hours ago he fainted at the surprise, happiness and shock of discovering he was with child.

The fingers squeezed his hand, and Telemachus responded, squeezing his fingers back and feeling the explosion of nerves in his chest expand. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way Antinous' eyes darted away, trying not to reveal his blush and nerves.

It was the first time they could hold hands in front of the whole world. The suitors on their pack didn’t count. Even though their audience right now consisted of only two people. Two quite still shocked people.

They felt so silly, like juveniles with their first romance. But, after everything they lived through, it didn’t bother them.

“I’m good,” Telemachus placed a hand on his abdomen, smiling so much and feeling a single tear rolling down his cheek, “I’m more than good. But I do need to lie down some more, it’s… it’s still a shock for me.”

Antinous knew that their whole life had changed. He could see the light in Telemachus, even more radiant than usual. Yes, this was the reassurance he wanted this forever: happiness. How blind he had been for so many years.

“I can imagine… I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Aren’t you as well?” Telemachus asked, a little tinge of worry on his ocean blue eyes.

The suitor chuckled a bit, “You know the asshole I am when I’m not happy, little wolf.” At those words, the curve on the prince’s face appeared once more.

The other two looked at each other. They had no clue what the young men were talking about. But it was a conversation practically oozing intimacy for it to be something light.

Philoetius shifted Ctimene carefully in his arms as they reached her chamber. The woman almost hit him with her arm but she didn’t wake.

“By the gods, does your whole family sleep like that? I really hope you guys can actually wake up if someone decides to take revenge on your father and kill all of Ithaca,” Antinous said, smirking and raising an eyebrow, which made Telemachus to glare at him slightly.

“Shut up, you’re not ruining this for me, idiot.”

The swineherd was baffled, those two were lovers? Best friends? Friends with intimacy benefits? What on Hades’ name was going on there? His eyes flickered uneasily between prince and suitor. Was this really okay?

Antinous broke the silence with a grin when they walked again, this time to the servants’ and slaves’ rooms, tugging lightly on Telemachus’ hand.

The prince sighed and stared at him. “Now what?”

“You do realize that in the end I got what I wanted? I won, your highness.”

That drew a snort from Telemachus, who leaned closer, mockery all over his tone. “Oh really? Careful, reckless alpha, your tongue might condemn you if a certain someone hears you saying such things.”

Their banter, though soft and light, carried an ease that made both servants exchange another bewildered glance. What unfolded before them now was… strange. Foreplay mixed with teasing and love showed in such a different way of what they had seen before in the preview royal couples and mates.

When they reached the quarters destined for the swineherd and goatherd, Telemachus stopped gifting them a smile that cleared their worries even for a moment.

“Make yourselves at home. Later today, we’ll speak more about what happened here. I can see you have questions and I’ll make sure to satisfy your curiosity in some extent.”

Philoetius bowed his head, Eumaeus, however, could not contain a small, quiet question.

“My prince… just to be certain… are you doing well?”

Telemachus hesitated only a heartbeat, then his fingers tightened around Antinous’ hand as he tilted his head with a warm smile.

“I am,” he said simply, happiness tinting his voice.

The older omega nodded. He could be fine with that, as long as it were the truth.

They left the servants to their rest, walking back down the corridor together, and at the parting of the hallways, where duty tugged them apart, they lingered. Telemachus purred and Antinous did the same, both touching their foreheads and breathing in the scent of the other.

“Meet me in the throne room after you’re done. We’ll decide where to be, without interruption.” The royal said lips curling with excitement.

Antinous leaned even closer, voice low and full of promise. “I’ll be there. I’d follow you anywhere, even if you chose an abandoned wolf den.”

Telemachus shook his head at that, laughter coming out quietly as he pushed the suitor away, making him smirk.

“Go now, before I make you prove it.”

It had been a day like any other. One of those late spring days, now that she remembered. The whole kingdom was gathered at the docks and nearby, the farewells over and the multitude of voices reaching her ears.

Still she was still staring at her mate’s eyes, hopeful but scared. The hand she knew and loved so well touched her cheek and she leaned to it, to the warmth and care.

“Don’t worry Ctimene, I’ll be back before you know it,” Eurylochus whispered. Ctimene pouted slightly, engraving in her mind for the months to come the way those dark eyes always seemed to soften just for her.

“You better do… I’m going to miss you so much…” she looked ahead and sighed, brows furrowing in pain, “We’re going to miss all of you…”

The alpha turned to see what his wife was looking at and shared the same feeling. Odysseus was scenting a final time his little son, Telemachus giggling and placing his little hands over his father’s face, mapping it and babbling in so much happiness. Penelope was smiling softly but everyone could see she was suffering deep down.

Hope and pain coexisted in close harmony among all the other people. All of Ithaca was already waiting for the end of the war, longing for the day when they would see their loved ones again, who were already finishing getting into the ships. The women and omegas said goodbye with tears in their eyes to those with whom they had pledged their love until the end of time, fathers and mothers tried not to show the pain that was consuming them as they watched their partners and children of sufficient age leave, younger siblings watched sadly as their parents and older brothers boarded each ship to fulfill their mission. And the cries of the pups could be heard, too young to understand why their families were dividing, why there were so many different smells in a single moment.

Odysseus kissed Telemachus’ cheek and the toddler smiled brightly before noticing his father intention to pass him to his mother. Baby started crying, not wanting to let his father go, hugging him with all the strength his little arms had. The king smiled with pain but managed to overcome such tender and heartbreaking moment. Penelope received Telemachus and looked at her husband, a few tears leaving her eyes.

“You will come back to us,” the queen stated. It was not a question or even a petition. She just knew.

Odysseus nodded, his chest feeling so many emotions at once, intertwining love by looking at her beautiful wife precious blue eyes. Eyes he knew, would dream every night during that long war period.

“I will. No matter how or when, I’ll be back. So wait for me my love, don’t be scared, I’ll always come back to you.”

Penelope gulped the lump on her throat and not trusting her voice anymore, she nodded, closing her eyes when her husband leaned to kiss her. The final kiss before getting aboard.

Ctimene bit her lip, she couldn’t believe she was going to lose her brother and husband in the same day. A few tears finally escaped her eyes as she hugged Eurylochus by the neck, making sure he was receiving all the love she felt for him.

“You’ll be back too, right?”

The man kissed her, cleaning the tears with his thumbs. “I’ll try, I’ll do my best.” He smiled and whispered something along with a promise that made Ctimene look down with a flushed smile, “Who knows, maybe you’ll have a little company while I’m far… if not, then, we’ll start the family we envisioned once we’re back.”

She nudged him with her elbow, chuckling. He was right, they did surrender to passion a few nights ago, maybe she was pregnant. Maybe Telemachus would have someone to play in a few moon cycles. It was all a matter of waiting.

Ctimene remembered something when her alpha walked with his things to get into the ship and ran to catch someone by the forearm, the man turned and placed a hand on her shoulder as a goodbye gesture. The woman smiled and tilted her head to express her wish and petition.

“Don’t let them lose hope, Polites. You are their reminder that there’s so much more in life to chase for.”

Polites winked at her and gently took her head to make it bow slightly to kiss the forehead.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll make sure to remind them what’s important in the dark moments of our journey.”

The last men boarded and the ships set sail. The cries and voices saying goodbye were all that could be heard, even stronger than the crash of the waves hitting the rocks and huge wood planks of the ships, stronger than the birds proclaiming with their sounds their daily search of survival. Ctimene had placed herself next to Penelope, both smiling and trying not to get carried away by the different conflicting emotions in their hearts.

Their brows furrowed at the same time, and they smiled at each other with tears in their eyes as Telemachus stared at the ship where Odysseus was accompanied by Eurylochus and Polites. The pup tried to reach him with his arms, and when he couldn't, his eyes filled with tears once again, and he began to cry loudly, hiccupping and using his pup call to make his father come back.

“Oh baby… I know, love… your dad has to go… but he’ll be back,” Penelope whispered, cradling Telemachus and kissing his chestnut hair as the toddler hugged her, crying so hard he was even coughing in distress. He did not understand, and it hurt.

“He’s such a daddy’s boy,” Ctimene tried to joke, feeling the tears escaping while looking at her lovely nephew.

Her parents had not accompanied them. It had been too painful to say goodbye, and they knew they couldn’t bear to see their beloved son leave for the unknown and cruel world of such a big war.

Ctimene decided at that moment to turn and look at all the women, omegas, and families who, like her and Penelope, were going to wait. The shore was crowded, a sea of faces turned toward the departing ships, each marked by the same heavy shadow.

Some women clutched their children tightly, others pressed their hands to their mouths to muffle sobs, a few stared ahead with blank, unblinking eyes. The weight of dread already hollowed them out. The salt of the ocean breeze mingled with the salt of tears, carried into the air alongside whispered prayers and trembling breaths.

It was impossible to feel alone with so many people in the same situation, and sometimes, not feeling alone is exactly what helps us cope with the sharp blow of pain and despair.

Away from everyone else, a woman wearing a blue hood watched the ships depart. The jewelry on her neck and ears revealed her noble status, but what caught the eye most among all those jewels was a gold bracelet with black and blue stones. These precious stones were uncommon in Ithaca, and therefore, very valuable. It was something only a very wealthy merchant could afford.

The woman didn’t dare to remove her hood, but her black eyes rested on the ships, a glimmer of pain and hope in her gaze.

“Have a safe journey... Poseidon, please be kind to them...” prayed the woman, letting out a tear as she watched her father and brother sail away with the men of Ithaca.

“Mom, I don't understand. What we doing here?” a bored voice was heard next to her, on her right side.

Evadne looked down, her son staring with little interest at the small chunks of ocean that he could see in the middle of the crowd. She was stunned to see something in particular, and after the surprise, she raised an eyebrow, and her little boy's expression made her smile too.

“Antinous... Where did you get that apple?”

The six-year-old pup had been discovered and froze, mouth open, about to take another bite of the fruit. Evadne knew that her child loved fruit, especially grapes and apples. Antinous waited a few seconds, looking around as he mapped out an escape route, and then surprised his mother by stuffing the half-eaten apple between his teeth and running off, determined not to let his mother take away the fruit that he had most likely stolen from one of the merchants during the commotion of the men's departure from the island.

The woman tried to catch him but the little one was fast. The noble woman chuckled and placed gently her palm on her face, drowning the giggles that were replacing her grief.

“You little rascal… alright, alright, you win this one...”

She followed the escape route, making a sign to the maid that was waiting for her. Evadne would make sure that Antinous understood and remember that he couldn't be doing things like that. They weren't right, and they wouldn't lead him anywhere good in life. But for now, he was just a child.

Let him run around a bit and tire himself out, and they would deal with the consequences at home. Preferably without his father finding out.

Ctimene, for her part, waited a long time, accompanying Penelope until there was no one left on the docks. What made the queen abandon the ocean horizon at that point in the day was that Telemachus was already desperate, growling and pulling her hair because he was very tired and dying of sleep.

The sister of the king couldn't help but smile at the little boy's unhinged temperament. It was practically her family's trademark. With this situation in hand, the guards escorted them back to the palace, ensuring that King Odysseus' legacy would arrive home safe and sound.

Ctimene woke up, realizing that she had fallen asleep in the hallway while waiting for her brother to finish talking to his beloved. However, judging by the softness beneath her, she was not in the hallway. Her heart leapt as she remembered that if her brother was back, that meant...

“Ctimene”

With a twist, the woman turned in the bed, excited and hoping to find someone next to her, bright eyes at the mental image of what she would find. Reality was like a cold basin being poured over her head.

No warm strong body, no sharp dark eyes, no serious expression that turned soft with just a look directed to her. The only thing there was… like all those twenty years, an empty space in the bed.

Her hand brushed across the cover and she turned to look toward the window. It was noon, judging by the position of the sun, she hadn't slept for that many hours. Her brother must have already finished, regardless of what Penelope and he had decided to do.

Ctimene was a little disappointed, well, a lot actually. She thought Odysseus would have told Eurylochus where to find her. After twenty years, it was the least they could do.

She would make sure to let her alpha know how upset such a lack of empathy had made her. But for now, she had to find him, both her husband and her brother. There was so much to talk about, so much lost time to make up for.

Besides, now that she thought about it, it all made perfect sense.

Odysseus' men are surely elsewhere because such a large group would be suspicious. Her mind reasoned. If my brother did all this alone, it can only mean that he used a deception similar to the one he used in Troy. When news of the end of the war arrived, everyone admired how clever Odysseus had been to send the fleets to hide at Tenedos so that the Trojans would believe that defeat had been accepted.

The woman smiled, electing to ignore the tiny painful sting deep in the darkest corners of her mind. The part that was pulsing with a bad omen and trying to make her focus in the possibilities.

The chance that maybe…

“Yes, that must be it,” stubbornly whispered, opening the door and ready to meet her brother after two decades of waiting.

Antinous was feeling the softness of Telemachus’ hair on his cheek, closing his eyes and purring softly to induce sleep on his lover.

Telemachus had a rough day, having to bury his beloved Argos some hours ago. Even if they were talking about an animal, Antinous perfectly understood how hard it was to not be able to say goodbye. That’s why he didn’t buy it when the prince met him in the throne room and smiled at him, saying that Argos had gone give some company to Cerberus.

He offered the royal a hug and when, after a few seconds, his whole body began shaking and Telemachus finally cried hard and bitterly in sorrow, the alpha held him tight. Letting him grief, it was way better than pretend his heart was not hurting.

Now they were under a tree on a high point of the island, leaning against the trunk, huddled together and keeping fresh in the shadow.

Even with the prince's grief, their hearts were overflowing. Antinous kept his hand on the omega's, both resting on Telemachus' abdomen. The suitor soon realized that his partner had fallen asleep, so he smiled, settling him more comfortably on his chest and shoulder so he could rest better. He placed a slow, gentle kiss on the top of his head and turned to look at the blue sky that stretched over the entire kingdom.

They had tried for so long without hope of success that right now, the full realization was hitting the suitor. He was happy, he truly was, but plenty of thoughts were streaming down his mind and making a mess of it.

For the Olympus sake, they were waiting a pup. Was that thought alone not enough to justify the kick of panic into his heart?

He would be a father. An alpha father! What did he know about that?

Truly and honestly? Nothing… and such uncertainty was making him slightly nervous. He didn’t want for his child to hate him for being dumb and having a dysfunctional family because of his old man… and the fucking king’s fault… Anyway back to the topic that was kicking his thoughts as right now…

Telemachus will be such a wonderful omegan mother, I just know it… but… I don’t want to fail him, he might not care too much about if I’m the perfect mate or not, Antinous gently brushed the hair that was falling in the prince’s face due the breeze, fingers lingering a little in the warm skin to find a bit of anchor to his thoughts. But this little one will be an empty scroll, a blank page, what if… what if I taint them as well? What if I can’t escape the consequences of being raised well… wrong? It was not only my old man, I carry so much darkness and blood in me… what if it finds a way to seep into our child?

A deep sigh from the royal startled him, the look of that calm and relaxed face bringing Antinous down to firm land. Those lovely, practically invisible, freckles littering the bridge of his nose and a bit of his cheeks were always enough for him to focus in the present, he liked to think they were like golden speckles scattered on the royal’s face, almost like a treasure daring to be found.

And he was the lucky one who had found it.

Antinous wondered though… would their baby have blue diamond eyes as gorgeous as Telemachus? Or maybe the same black tourmaline color as him as his mother? The alpha found that in some way, he couldn’t wait… two seasons and a moon cycle was too much time. Although… he knew by experience time fleeted and seeped through the fingers like fine ivory sand on some of Ithaca’s shores.

 The alpha then looked at the sky, allowing a longing expression on his features.

“Mother… a little helping hand would be very useful to me right now…” he didn’t think anything on the breeze around them, after all, it had been present for quite some time.

But he found it was hard to keep awake in the in the warmth of the exterior, the delightful coolness that accompanied it, and something that had calmed his anxiety. The suitor let out a slight grumble before settling himself more comfortably on top of his beloved and closing his eyes.

If there was any danger, he would wake immediately into protection. After all, his inner alpha never slept, the instinct would keep them safe.

Penelope was the first one she found when she directed again to the room of the king and queen. Ctimene was walking, watching the guards and servants gathering the bodies and the maids cleaning every trace of blood out of the walls and floors of the palace.

“Don’t get rid of the bodies yet,” the queen ordered, looking with no remorse at the horrified faces on the dead suitors, “The prince will talk to the council about this issue. Take the bodies into the storage rooms and make servants to clean the bodies as best they can. That should reduce the smell until we decide what course of action to follow.”

 “Penelope?”

The woman turned and gasped at the presence of her dear sister-in-law. Her mood lightened up and she walked with excitement to greet her.

“My dear Ctimene! What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy of having you, completely the opposite, your presence blesses me with happiness, but, the question still stands, my dear.”

Ctimene tilted her head with a smile, Penelope was always so sweet, and the light on her eyes was strong, bright, renewed in strength and radiance. Just like when Odysseus was still around, twenty years ago.

“I got a hunch you know? One of those moments when you just know things.”

Penelope sighed with a smile. Of course she knew. If somebody knew she orchestrated the twelve axes challenge because she saw a storm like never before, completely out of the norm, and then, a few days later, while she lightened Athena’s statue candles, had a hunch and then simply decided to take such a storm it as a sign, an omen that it meant that her whole world was about to change….

Her beloved husband’s return.

Well, everybody would’ve said that she had finally lost her mind to grief. So yes, Penelope actually understood Ctimene.

“So that’s why you came here. To see Odysseus,” Penelope said, brows furrowing with understanding and a sweet smile on her.

Ctimene nodded and her hopeful and lovely expression shattered Penelope when reality hit her suddenly, like a cruel ocean wave.

“Yeah, well mostly to meet with Eurylochus, but of course I want to see my brother. Need to know why they took so long to come back.”

Oh… Penelope felt a wave of shame and embarrassment flooding her. She was so happy and glad that she forgot… Oh gods, how could she? How did she dare to actually forget it?

Ctimene had been in her place as well, waiting, crying bitter tears of loneliness, hoping for years and feeling the cracks of time… How could she forget her when the sunlight was finally back in her own life? … When spring was sprouting once more all around, but for Ctimene… would still be winter for a long time to come.

Her beloved Odysseus had not said anything yet in detail about the whole journey, promising her that eventually, he would tell her everything. But some of his words not only were clear about certain things he did and suffered, but also when he hinted about some of his decisions and trials, it was clear in the speech that he came back home alone.

The only survivor of six hundred men.

Penelope hadn't considered it at the time; after all, she was just a woman, and she had been so shocked, joyful, and completely euphoric to have her beloved back, that she didn't stop to think about what it really meant for others, for her sister-in-law, for their people, that Odysseus alone had returned alive.

It was dawning on her, and that, as a Queen and as the protector she always considered herself to be for Ctimene, was making her blush with shame. This was bigger than herself and her feelings… and she knew, the hopeful woman right in front of her would be so broken and damaged.

“So!” Ctimene started, looking around briefly before focusing on her again, “Where are the boys? I’ve been waiting for so long but I’m telling you, I can’t wait a minute more!” giggled with a smile.

The royal’s heart shattered in even tinier shards. She gulped and her cleverness along with her brain stopped, leaving her alone, having to decide what to tell the woman.

“Well… Odysseus is back in our room. He had a long bath but he must be over by now, you will find him there and, well, I think he can tell you more about everything you want and need to know.”

Penelope was not even sure if that was a good answer, she was completely blank about what would be the best thing to say in this situation. Good Athena, she was not even sure what had happened with all the men.

The only thing she knew was that Odysseus had changed a lot, both internally and externally.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll be going to meet Ody. Thank you so much, Penelope.”

Ctimene stopped walking when the queen called her, the arm extended and the hand withdrawn, shy, almost tentatively. Ctimene had a bad hunch but stubbornly ignored it again.

“Just…” Penelope began hesitantly, “be careful, Ctimene. Your brother is, not exactly like you remember him, darling… It’s just a heads up. His journey was not an easy one and it shows.”

Ctimene nodded, and in a way she already knew. You don't spend twenty years on a week-long trip when the journey is pleasant, calm, and victorious. The queen wondered if perhaps, she should hug her, tell her that not even she had been brought up to date by Odysseus on everything that had happened.

Nor what happened to him, nor what happened in the journey, nor what happened to the other men, the members of his crew.

She would regret this choice, but in the end, she cowered, thinking that such a thing would be a mistake from her part, and decided that it was better if Ctimene could hear whatever hard news she had to endure from her own brother’s mouth.

Odysseus and Ctimene had such a strong bond, they loved each other. They would be able to hug, to cry, to feel together. That, in her opinion, would be much better than anything she could do or offer her.

It seemed not even a strong, smart and cunning woman like Penelope was out of her human nature of forgetting and making mistakes. A quite important detail as it was: Odysseus was no longer the same, and Ctimene was not as familiar to Odysseus as she was to her.

Yes, Penelope knew Ctimene quite well by now, but she was trusting in a bond old as time, a bond between two brothers who back in the day were very close: a young woman excited about life and with a full live ahead of them, and a young man, kind, brave, quite eager to live up to his legend and to live a life next to the love of his life.

Chapter Text

Ctimene arrived at Penelope's room just as the door opened. Her breath caught when she saw the figure and smelled the scent that floated from the chambers.

She could never forget. It was him.

“Odysseus...brother.”

The alpha startled, clearly not expecting the voice or presence. His hand had quickly gone to his side, ready to draw a dagger hidden in his clothes. However, a sparkle appeared in his eyes as he recognized a voice he had forgotten, but which his soul and core knew by heart.

“Ctimene? Is that you?”

The woman let out a sob and nodded effusively, approaching as she took every detail from the brother in front of her. He was thinner, his complexion slightly darker from years at sea and under the sun. His brown eyes were tired, a little droopy, as if they were just getting used to seeing hope and light in others and in their surroundings. He was littered with scars, and his smile was torn, actually he was not smiling. It felt so weird and painful to not see that gorgeous cheery smile on her brother’s face.

“Yes Odysseus, it’s me. Were twenty years enough rest from me?” she joked, smiling with tears falling from her eyes, making Odysseus lip to quiver before smiling a bit, “Or did you actually miss me?”

The man ran and threw himself on her, his arms wrapping tightly around her and his hands squeezing her body. Ctimene wanted to cry; the way he was hugging her was not only out of longing, but also out of regret, protection, and love. She had missed him so much; this hug was something her body knew so well that it hurt.

It hurt how long she had gone without feeling it.

She hugged him back, burying her face in his chest and smiling a little more. His heart was beating, it was warm. Her brother was there, it wasn't a dream, it was reality.

When they pulled away to look into each other's eyes, Ctimene asked the question that paralyzed the king.

“Where are the others? Where is Eurylochus?” Ctimene asked eagerly.

Polites smiled in his mind, Eurylochus hugging him in camaraderie and his men laughing during mealtimes, which, despite being meager and somewhat precarious, united them all. As a crew, as a family, as people who had survived.

People that he himself had ultimately killed.

The question cut through the air like a blade. His body stiffened, breath caught mid-motion. He pulled back slightly, his hands still on her shoulders, but his eyes betrayed him. Odysseus looked away and blurted out the news so suddenly that Ctimene remained with the same expression, blinking a couple of times without quite understanding.

“They’re gone.”

…

Her world shattered, her chest tightening in a second. Her smile was faltering but the shards were still together, the shape was still whole. She was still okay.

She was...okay. She was.

…

“Huh?”

The king was not making eye contact anymore and such a thing was worse than him telling her straight up front that all of them were dead.

“Odysseus?” Ctimene asked, her smile gone and looking at him hoping, wishing what she understood was not the real words. “Where are they?”

The environment was tense, both only focused in the other. If they were sounds, they couldn’t hear them, only their breathings and the sound of their own hearts.

“I… I was the…” there was a gulp, Odysseus fighting to find the words and the certainty of things entirely settling over Ctimene in the meantime, “the only one who survived the sea.” The king took a moment to breathe and then he turned his gaze back to her. Hard, stony, cold. “The others didn’t make it, Ctimene. The ocean claimed them, I’m sorry.” Said, far more composed than a few seconds ago.

She hugged herself lightly, her thoughts burying in contemplation and mental images.

The heart of her mate, her husband, was not beating. It was somewhere else cold and forgotten. Her husband was not there. Would never be. It wasn't a dream, it was reality.

Ctimene could see herself, running after her beloved, strong and laughing, his eyes full of life, the man looking back to her and reaching his hand. Only to shatter and disappear when she had finally reached him, the memory of him being swallowed by black waves. She stood helpless on the shore. All for nothing, all gone, and all that was left, was pain.

She came to her senses after her journey into dissociation and tried to get a little more information out of her brother, but as soon as Odysseus sensed her intentions, he quickly made up an excuse—which could still pass for truthful, since there was indeed much to do after the massacre of the suitors—and escaped, walking quickly to get away from his sister. Leaving Ctimene behind, abandoned in her grief.

She turned to look at him with pain, hoping he would stay, hug her, apologize and promise to explain what had happened.

Seeing him leave, she let out a pained whimper and reached her arm out to him, trying to stop the alpha, but then placed slowly her hand on her chest as tears fell from her face onto the stone floor.

Why had he left? Why her brother left her alone? She needed him, she needed comfort, she felt as if her soul was withering… she needed to hold someone right now. She felt lost, dizzy, even nauseous.

Ctimene could feel her heart hammering hard, she started to feel so bad, that she heard her inner self saying just one thing in response of the pain, stress and loneliness:

Run.

And she did.

Meanwhile, hidden in one of the cellars, the king had collapsed to the floor, trembling with memories of lightning strikes, a powerful voice cracking the sky, the cries of men, and the gaze of a brother who had both cared for and betrayed him.

His determination and mission to return home to Ithaca with his wife and son had helped him endure these thoughts where he could only hear screams. He had shown himself to be strong and brave when he pushed all this to the back of his mind so he could face the god of the seas, capable of killing in cold blood and without mercy the men who had invaded his home and threatened the safety and well-being of his beloved pack.

But now that he had returned, that he had fulfilled his mission, that finally the shadows of challenges and darkness were receding... How could he face his actions and his past? He was determined to tell Penelope everything, for she deserved that and more.

But how could he look his sister in the eye and tell her that he was the direct cause of her and hundreds of other women and omegas now being widows?

He couldn’t. Gods no, not yet, a little more time, just a few days, a few days to recover and then he would do it. Ctimene needed to know.

But she’ll hate you… his mind told him, eyes widening in horror, lovely memories of them as kids flashing in his mind. How could she still love the murderer of her husband?

Ctimene looked so happy and lovely in his memories, smiling and laughing with him. So bright, such a woman.

She will hate you, part from you. The only family left for you… won’t tolerate your sins and blood no more.

His eyed filled with moisture, he knew that if he told Ctimene what happened… she would be so angry, so shattered, so filled with rightful desperation and grief.

You will fail her just like you did your mother… even worse, you already did…

Yeah, he had already failed her. And she would suffer so much because of him… maybe, maybe it was for the best for her not to know… right? Out of sight, out of mind… in this case out of sight, knowledge and mind, out of heart…

Odysseus was very intelligent; it was not easy for him to deceive himself. But after everything he had been through, his mind was longing for no more pain than he already carried.

And the king, despite his achievements, his legends, and his prestige; was just a man. A human being. A mortal, at the end of the day.

And the human brain will always try to preserve itself emotionally and mentally. Even if it means lying to oneself and hiding in order to feel safe, to have time, to do whatever it takes to cope and survive.

A struggle began that was very different from those Odysseus had been accustomed to over the past twenty years.

A mental struggle, but very different from the one Athena had trained him for, because this time it was not a matter of using his wits to outsmart and defeat his enemies. This time the battle was with himself, his thoughts, his emotions, his actions, and the consequences linked to fear, trauma, and confrontation.

And so would be.

Ctimene arrived to her room, slamming the door and leaning on it, breathing hard and fast, her mind barely catching on the entiret of her reality. Her knees weakened, grief pulling her downward, and no one there next to her to keep her from falling completely.

She collapsed, sobbing and clenching her teeth, finally accepting the flood of feelings that crashed with thunderous force into her soul.

What was she supposed to do now? What was next? She had no clue, no idea.

She just wanted to cry and rage against the covers of her bed, just wished to drown in the pain and then rise with no feelings that could provoque suffering.

She just… didn’t want to feel alone… but she didn’t have the strength to ask for help, to let someone see her in such a state.

But she wanted someone to hold her… And she didn’t have anyone.

Ctimene spied on her brother from behind some bushes, puffing out her cheeks in a sulk while the leaves covered her.

Always with those two... he doesn't even spend as much time with Eumaeus as he used to... Why do they want to take MY brother away?

Odysseus laughed when Polites gestured at something enormous and threw himself back onto the grass. The three boys were sitting, taking a break from their arduous training. The sweat running down their temples and necks, wooden swords specialized for combat training laying right next to them on the greenery, just waiting for the juveniles to be back on track.

Ctimene knew that Eumaeus was a slave and, unlike the two noble boys who were also friends of Odysseus, he had many responsibilities, especially now that he had become one of the castle's swineherds.

The prince noticed Ctimene’s faint personal scent, lingering with almost invisible tinges of cinnamon, clove and vanilla. Odysseus smiled and turned around, he couldn’t see her but there was a trick that absolutely never failed.

“Show yourself, sister. I know you’re watching us... I can see you, you know?” the boy contained a cocky smile when the six-year old groaned and pulled her presence out of the bushes.

“No fair Ody!” Ctimene whined, pouting as she shook one small leg to get rid of the leaves on it. “You being alpha sucks! I can no longer hide from you!”

Polites chuckled and Eurylochus rolled his eyes at the exchange of words between the brothers. Neither of them had presented yet, but the dynamic between them boys hadn't changed much. What had changed, and was partly what Ctimene resented and why she had become quite jealous with her older brother's time and presence, was the prince's routine.

Despite being only eleven years old, Odysseus had certainly become much more responsible lately, crossing the stone and marble floored corridors to take scrolls to their respective places; spending entire afternoons in the library, adding scroll after scroll to what he had already been taught in the morning classes. His trips to the village were no longer just for walking and having fun as before; now he visited people, made sure they had what they needed, ensured that his father heard about the citizens’ problems, and tried to learn as much as he could from all the members of his kingdom.

Laertes smiled at that, the tired expression proving how proud he felt towards the attitude of his only son. For her part, Ctimene suspected Odysseus change could be for his recently alpha subgender but, it could also be due to her father's declining state. He was acting increasingly not only exhausted but also paranoid. The girl frowned and worried every time she heard murmurs in town that her father, whom she and her brother loved deeply, was going mad.

Between that and missing doing silly things with Odysseus, as well as spending time together playing or doing other things, the girl spent her days chasing her brother around the house like a dog. Actually, like the puppy dog their father had just gifted her brother. Ctimene was so in love with the little fuzzy thing, she giggled and laughed uncontrollably when the doggy barked and threw straight into licking Odysseus face who then began laughing, carrying the little mutt and smiling brightly. He named the good boy Argos.

But despite that, more often than not, she was waiting. Waiting for a moment of freedom when the young royal would take a few hours to catch his breath or stir from his chair. And then she would attack, either with a roll of stories for them to read together, or even stubbornly tugging at his sleeve, dragging Odysseus with determination into a game she had already decided upon.

Sometimes Ctimene made him sit with her by the hearth, reading from a scroll until she drifted to sleep against his shoulder. Other times she insisted they play knucklebones on the floor, scattering the polished sheep bones she had begged from the servants, her laughter sharp and triumphant when she beat him at his own careful toss.

If Odysseus complained he had important matters to tend into, she would press a reed flute into his hands, demanding he play her a tune, or bring a piece of olive wood scraps to beg him with rightful puppy eyes for him to carve little animals for her.

On rare occasions, he would have enough time to chase her through the courtyards until both collapsed breathless in the grass, their hair full of leaves and their smiles mirroring on their faces.

And the games where little Argos was the pull for Odysseus to abandon his duties, now those were her favorites. He was so cute and filled with energy, tripping often and wagging his tail while the kids laughed and petted him.

Ctimene loved her brother’s laughter, it was filled with energy and strength. The sight of his closed eyes, open mouth in an attempt to regain his breath because he laughed too much and too hard, made her feel joyous and giggly. She was not willing to lose her brother in the claws of boring duties and such nonsense. And most certainly she would not allow a bunch of stupid older boys to rob him from her.

He was hers. HERS. If she could, and her mother hadn't already told her that it wasn't normal or good, she would marry him. Or her father. Although she preferred to marry her brother, her father was her mother’s, also, she had more fun with him and knew that he would always take care of her, with his life if necessary.

She was already a princess wasn’t she? Well that way she could be queen next to him! Odysseus didn't need another woman in her life. And even less so men, who had no business ruining their perfect lives.

“You can stay and watch us train if you want,” Odysseus said, standing next to her and ruffling lovingly her brown hair.

She nodded fast and hard, happy to the top. Then she looked at the boys and dropped a filled with mockery smile. As if she had won over them. Polites flinched but smiled as he laughed a little, and Eurylochus made a face of both awkwardness and irritation.

That kid was too possessive with Odysseus. But for the first boy was cute and for the second… well, he couldn’t really get it, to be real.

They resumed their training, the young pup sitting with her legs bent just as her mother and the maids were teaching her. Above all, she was a woman and a princess; she had to act with the delicacy that would be required and expected of her in the future.

Manners my dear, Ctimene repeated her mother’s words on her head, making an effort to act ladylike as she witnessed the boys doing their boyish things. Although being sitting on the dirt was not very womanly from her part.

Odysseus shifted into stance first, feet planted shoulder-width apart on the packed dirt, knees bent, his wooden sword raised diagonally across his body in a guard position. Nobody noticed the owl that flew nearby, wings beating in the swift silence until its claws perched on one of the statues, watching, as if evaluating results.

Eurylochus mirrored him, more rigid in his movements, his grip tight as though he could wring strength from the handle alone. The boy was the strongest of the three but recently, he had noticed Odysseus strength increasing, his senses also getting sharper, and the dark skinned boy was aware it was because of the alpha subgender waking up in the king to be.

Polites, ever the optimist, circled them with a grin, waiting for his turn, swinging his own practice sword lightly as though it had no weight in it. Underestimating Polites was a mistake. The boy may have been sweet tempered and kind to the core, but he quickly proved that he could be a focused, strong, and skilled warrior.

In part, Odysseus was sure that this was his greatest unintentional advantage. People dismissed him as weak and naive just by looking at his understanding gaze, the way his attention seemed to bathe you entirely in rays of warm spring sunshine, when in reality, if necessary, he was one of the strong and intelligent, capable of finishing you off in a matter of minutes. His speed making him lethal.

“Your guard is too high, Eurylochus,” Odysseus warned, circling. “You’ll leave your ribs open.”

“At least I won’t trip over my own feet,” Eurylochus shot back, lunging forward with a heavy strike.

The wooden swords clacked together and Polites laughed.

“Both of you fight like angry goats. If I close my eyes, I’ll hear horns instead of swords.”

Ctimene’s lips twitched, but she covered them quickly with her hands to maintain her ladylike composure.

The sparring quickened the pace, Odysseus parrying with sharp efficiency recently learned while Eurylochus kept pressing forward with sheer force. Ctimene was at first concentrated only in her brother but she started looking at the grumpy kid as well when she flinched at a moment where Eurylochus strength forced Odysseus to step back. The swords’ clack loud.

Polites stepped in now and then, pointing with the tip of his sword.

“Weight on your back foot, Ody, or he’ll drive you down. And Eury, stop gripping like the sword’s trying to run away, your arms will tire before your brain does.”

Odysseus smirked and Eurylochus grumbled but a smile on his face nevertheless. Another clash echoed through the courtyard, and Odysseus twisted aside, tapping Eurylochus’ shoulder with the flat of his blade.

“Dead,” Odysseus said, pride on his brown eyes.

Eurylochus sighed, rubbing his arm. “You just got lucky.”

“Luck comes to those who practice,” Odysseus replied, his grin flashing toward his little sister.

Ctimene smiled brightly, clapping excited at her brother’s victory. That’s why her brother was the best in this world, everything was supposed to be that way, in the end, the little one was certain that next to Odysseus the world was better; his brain, emotion and energy tinted the world in a vivid splash of colors. And she loved to jump in the colorful puddles all around.

If she tripped, Odysseus was next to her. With his support, she could face anything; he inspired her with courage and confidence. Even though there was a five-year age difference, the separation with such a strong bond was not so great.

The princess twisted her mouth slightly when Polites arrived to distract Odysseus from paying attention to her. The two shared opinions on how to improve posture and sword grip, amid laughter and harmless jokes.

When he became king, there would be no rival for his pack with those two by his side; that was something the pup already knew. But she didn't like to think that instead of being by his side, she would be behind that trio.

It made her jealous and sad to think that perhaps Odysseus had always wanted a brother like Polites or Eurylochus instead of a sister who, socially and traditionally, would be far removed from his world and from what he would have to live through as a man.

Eurylochus stared at her, and that caught her attention, so her hazel eyes fixed on him, curiously. Realizing that she was jealous of her other friend, the juvenile let out a snort, and the jerk smiled. That brought a look of surprise and disbelief to Ctimene's face.

Had he made that face at her? At her!?

Oh this was war then.

Polites and Odysseus were preparing to spar when there was an interruption. The girl turned as well to see the servant boys running to them. Their faces were nervous, and they were sweating, the prince narrowed his eyes, judging by their dirty and smelly clothes, these boys were ones of the destined to take care of the livestock his family had.

“Prince Odysseus! Please, we need to find your father!” one of them squealed, the other recovering his breath.

“He is busy right now, what’s the matter?” the juvenile asked with a serious expression on his face.

The other interrupted the one who was speaking first, and his urgency drew the others closer, including Ctimene.

“We were walking along one of the country roads that lead straight to the dock, and suddenly Eumaeus started feeling very ill!” Polites turned to look at Eurylochus, his gaze concerned, and the young man just swallowed hard at what the boys were saying. “We’re not sure yet but…”

“He’s an omega your highness!” the other boy got desperate and yelled, pointing outside right to the direction from hence they came. Odysseus irises turned slightly smaller, mouth open and eyebrows dipping in realization, “A merchant took him, we think he alpha! He told us Eumaeus was a slave and so were we! Can’t do anything! We need the king to save him!”

Odysseus didn’t even hear the rest, pulled the arms of the servant boys and dragged them, not waiting for them to recover from the almost trip they had because of his action.

“Take me there! Quickly! We might not be in time if we take longer!” ordered, his protective scent exploding with the strength of a not-long-ago presented alpha.

Ctimene saw them run and blinked, nervous and unsure of what was going on. But Eumaeus was in danger, as far as her young brain could get. Polites noticed her coming next to him and looking up to make eye contact with him.

“Polites,” the princess began, hands clutched on her chest and furrowed brows of concern, the hand placing on her back helped her ask the thing, “What happened to Eumaeus? My brother will save him?”

The juvenile glanced at the dark skinned boy, Eurylochus flinched and diverted his gaze, worry showing in his features. Polites looked back at her and let out a small smile to reassure her.

“It’s okay Ctimene. Let’s trust Ody will arrive in time.”

“But what happened?”

Ctimene was very little, the boys shifted uncomfortable. How they were supposed to explain what happened to the fourteen-year-old slave boy and the horrible thing he could be living right now?

“Well… ahm… he got… sick…” Polites was working as hard as he never had to force something out of his brain, “And he is very weak… and well, in this world there are people who, when they see a vulnerable person, they try to take advantage of them.”

Eurylochus crossed his arms, trying to not think too much about it. The pup blinked confused.

“Take advantage? What’s that?”

Polites showed a grimacing tense smile as a proof of how he was struggling with Ctimene’s worry and innocence combined.

“Oh my… well in this case… it means that merchant wants to… take important things from Eumaeus because he is sick, therefore weak, and in short, he can’t defend himself.”

He is so fucking good explaining shit like this, Eurylochus surprised. He would’ve fucked up already and traumatized Ody’s sister.

Ctimene gasped and grumbled, snarling in anger, “That’s stealing! Mama says it’s wrong! And Papa punishes those who do it!”

She was a pup. For now, that understanding should and would be enough, both boys thought.

Meanwhile, Odysseus ran as fast as he could, following the boys until a flowing sweet and appetizing scent reached his nose, the fine smelling threads practically guiding him. His pupils dilated and his inner alpha tensed, reacting with so much interest.

A fresh presented omega. A possible mate, if the things were right.

“We tried to stop him!”

“He said Eumaeus was just a slave, that he could take him,” cried the other boy out.

Alphas were not uncontrolled beasts, otherwise beta would’ve probably done something about it. So even with the attraction and the pull to the scent, the royal growled and rushed even more. The servants hurried but they gave up at matching Odysseus’ pace.

He was an alpha, even if a few months presented, his body was already taking fully use of the increment of hormones, special proteins and more. The royal left them biting the dust, only focused in saving his friend.

A sharp, cloying scent, unfamiliar yet unmistakable, made his stomach knot. It was stronger and now, he could notice the faint acre taste in his tongue. The omega was scared.

The second he noticed a pair of oxen connected to a cart, he realized the alpha was not around. Odysseus stopped and rose his head, trying to pinpoint the omegan scent fast.

Faster, faster!

He caught the aroma and sprinted into following it. Then, he saw them and his inner alpha hissed in complete rage.

He could see the dragged to the ground and concealed by the tall grass swineherd boy’s body, his legs the clearest thing, hooked over the shoulders of a stranger. The merchant was too busy looking at the pretty omega he had been preparing and now was just about to deflower. He fancied women but he wouldn’t let go the opportunity when it was presented to him in a silver platter

The boy’s face was flushed a painful red, sweat clinging to his temples, his chest rising too fast. He shivered though the day was warm, the tremors betraying the weakness that had overtaken him. His wrists were trapped beneath the merchant’s rough grip and he whimpered at the strength that would definitely leave bruises.

 “You see? Don’t fight what your blood is telling you,” his hands released the wrists to hold the legs in a lustful way, “You’re ripe and ready, just take it like a good slave.”

Eumaeus’ body betrayed him: the tremor of his thighs, the ragged gasp when the man’s hand pressed harder. The prince felt bile rise in his throat. It wasn’t consent, this was the helpless submission of an omega’s first heat.

Odysseus noticed in a fleeting second of them locking eyes, that Eumaeus was not able to show the fierce of his bite and will to fight. His black eyes were dazed, glassy, torn between terror and some deeper pull. An instinctual call.

But alphas were also known for another instinctual call as well.

“Let him go.”

Protection.

The merchant turned, startled, then sneered at the sight of the boy. He could tell he was an alpha as well.

“Get lost, runt. You’re too young to know how to please an omega, and even younger to know how lucky it is for this one to have presented right here in the open.”

Odysseus growled and pointed at him with the wooden training sword he had carried within.

“Touch him again,” he snarled, “and I’ll see to it you never touch anything for the rest of your life... not in this kingdom at least.”

The man hesitated, and in that matter of seconds Odysseus was there, striking with the training object and channeling all the fury of his young body, knocking him off balance. The servants had finally caught up with him and rushed in to pull Eumaeus far from the man, while Odysseus stood between them and the merchant like a wild wolf baring its fangs.

The omega blinked, and whined, a sound that Odysseus’ inner alpha recognized. A sound of gratitude, falling right into the role of protector being fulfilled. The instincts flared up and his scent exploded, trying to assert dominance in this territory.

“He belongs to my father. And to me. Remember that, if you want to keep your life.” The prince stated, unyielding eyes looking at the man.

The merchant grumbled, and adjusted his clothes to go back to his cart and retake the road. When it was done and he could see the alpha no more, Odysseus turned back kneeling on the grass right next to the omega and scooping him in his arms.

The boys tried not to laugh. After the stressful moment, it was so funny to see a fourteen-year-old being carried by an eleven-year-old. Odysseus commanded them to take care of the whole livestock, that he would take care of the omega.

Back in the palace and under the worried gazes of both his parents, Eumaeus was tended by Odysseus himself. After such a scary moment, the omega was only able to build a nest thanks to the presence of his friend, and after a few hours of the prince taking care of the body temperature and scenting him, both juveniles were cuddled together, sleeping in between the old clothes, sheets and few pillows.

Odysseus exited those slave rooms fully knowing how to take care of omegas in heat and making sure they had everything they needed to go through it without requiring extreme measures to make the heat disappear entirely.

Eumaeus knocked on Ctimene's door, his other hand holding a tray of food. His face clearly showed concern, and any alpha could tell that he was uneasy from the anxious pheromones he was unintentionally releasing.

Philoetius had already had to return due to their shared responsibilities and duties—the beta male had offered to take over for the omega until Ctimene felt well enough to return to Laertes. In the meantime, the swineherd was quite worried.

He didn’t know what Odysseus had told Ctimene in private yet, the only thing he knew were the very same news the king had shared the day before.

The shadows of the columns had stretched long with the dying sun, and in the midst of the biggest courtyard, Odysseus had been standing, waiting, the whole of the castle’s souls reunited there to witness. The queen and prince were there, worried about Ctimene’s absence, and the rest of the people were whispering, wondering what thing would the king communicate in this private but official matter.

Around them, Eurycleia, Eumaeus, and Philoetius lingered silently, each of them stiff with expectation. The beta man particularly didn’t like the environment, there was too much hope, and don’t get him wrong, while hope is good… broken hope and expectations, can be the downfall of even the smartest people in the world.

When Odysseus finally opened his mouth, his voice filled with sorrow but stern at the same time, his words vibrated in the air, stricking every single soul right there.

“They are gone,” he said. He could not look at any of them. His gaze slid away, fixed on the stone beneath his feet. “All of them. Six hundred souls left these shores with me… and unfortunately, the sea claimed them one by one. I alone remain.”

Penelope looked at her side and placed a hand on Eumaeus’ shoulder, the omega shocked and processing the hard news, Philoetius holding his other shoulder while Eurycleia anchored other women who were shocked and many of them already about to cry.

Telemachus eyes had widened, a conflicted expression on him. The prince couldn’t believe it. Six hundred men? But how? Those were too many, in a week journey? After not losing a single soul in war? The young man glanced left to see at his suitor, the man looking at Odysseus and no reaction in his face.

Figured… He could have kept the men hidden so as not to attract the attention of the suitors, but now that the threat has passed, it was obvious that those men were nowhere near our borders.

Antinous was not expecting anything different and did not seem to react to the pain that was surrounding them. Heartless, some would say; cruel and ruthless, others would add. But Telemachus knew well that some hearts were so damaged that they couldn't risk feeling too much for everyone, unless the person themselves had the capacity to deal with the emotional storm that came with being open to so many different inner and emotional worlds.

The suitor was just too accostumed to be surrounded by pain for him to care. The only pain he cared, was his own and any sort of pain Telemachus could feel or anyone who were part of his private pack.

For a moment, no one breathed as they dawned truly in the meaning of those words. Penelope shut her eyes, her jaw tightening as she composed her thoughts to go and help the now wailing women. Odysseus locked eyes with his friend, Eumaeus brows showed a deep sorrow and his black eyes were asking for a quiet confirmation.

Polites? Eurylochus too?

Such thing almost broke the king.

The alpha nodded slowly, almost as if not wanting to admit such a thing. The swineherd blinked and sucked a breath before hugging himself, staggering back and covering his mouth. Telemachus noticed this and released a little of worried scent as he rushed to envelope the man carefully with his arms, making sure to be there for him as the older omega kept his mouth shut, eyes closed tightly and slightly shaking.

The guards were not unnafected, many had alive fathers and brothers by the beginning of the war. Plenty bowed their heads, trying to keep everything inside, there were shoulders trembling and lips quivering, trying hard to remain stern and in all the extent of the word: Ithacan guards, ready to fulfill their duties.

One of them couldn’t handle it, having to press a hand against the nearest column as if the stone itself were the only thing keeping him upright.

The courtyard filled with the taste of grief, dry and metallic, like blood at the back of the tongue. The silence was turned into sobs, and then into wails that rose and spilled beyond the palace gates. And just like Odysseus knew and expected, everything unfolded from there.

The servants ran to tell their families, the guards almost in their entirety were excused to grief alone or with their loved ones, and soon enough, the sound of mourning, desperation and wails spread like fire across the island.

Odysseus, still rooted in the middle of them, took a deep breath. It was over, he had said it, fulfilled his responsibility of making everyone know. Now, he could rest, leave all of that behind him, lock it away for as long as he could before the nightmares and memories crashed completely uninvited at nighttime.

A day had gone by after such an announcement. The omegan slave was already recovered, it would take a while for his heart but that was normal… however, even if it was the expected thing for human emotions, Eumaeus had a bad feeling on his chest about Ctimene. He knew her, and this act of locking herself in her room was not like her at all.

And, after talking with the queen about both of their concerns about Odysseus’ sister, Eumaeus and Penelope arrived to the exactly same conclusion.

Ctimene just happened to be the first one to face grief. And both were worried she had no one holding her, being her rock in the crashing and freezing storm.

The issue was, she was not answering, not letting anyone enter her room. And none of them wanted to force her out. Enfuriated Ctimene + Grieving widow + Tired woman, was a deadly combination and they knew it.

After calling several times and getting no answer, the omega swallowed hard and tried a different strategy.

“Ctimene? It's me... please open the door. We haven't seen you come out to eat.”

His caretaker nature was something that mixed strongly with his omegan instincts, so he insisted a little more.

“The Queen and Prince are worried about you as well. If you don’t want company, then at least take care of yourself. Please.”

No sound, the swineherd left the tray in the floor and tilted his head with pain on him. He lost comrades to Troy too, and he understood grief. That’s why he was so worried about her. He had cried for a long time the other day for both Polites’ and Eurylochus deaths, along with over ten more men he knew.

Alone of course. His subgender provided him a breath of emotional discharge, otherwise men would stare with a raised brow at him even more for showing weakness in front of other men. But well, being a male omega had its advantages, one of those was that society allowed him to develop and show his quite natural and normal human emotions from time to time.

Honestly sometimes he felt sorry for male alphas. They were expected to be strong, not a hint of fear or weakness translated in tears; women expected a guardian, a protector who would trade their lives for them, and men expected someone who would push them to the limit and someone they’d be able to look up to.

Alphas were just as pressured by society as omegas. Just in different ways. And the souls who didn’t fit were maybe not punished or taken care of, but they could feel the weight of stares over them.

“I’ll leave a tray with food here at your door. Please, even if little mouthfouls but try to eat a little. Your body needs it, even if you don’t feel like it,” and with those words, he turned and walked away.

Eumaeus knew she needed time.

Inside of the bedroom, Ctimene was laying on the bed, still, her chest the only thing moving, like a wounded bird. Her shoulders trembled a bit, fresh tears joining the dried ones on her face and bedding. To say that she had cried herself to sleep would be an understatement, Ctimene didn't sleep a wink all night as she wailed and raged against everyone and no one.

She felt broken, without strength, without energy, and detesting her brother's silence.

At that moment, despite the hours that had passed, she was barely processing what had happened, and, in Ctimene’s heart, everything caused an agony she had never even been able to imagine. Loss unfurled its sharp, endless pain when memories crashed uninvited, making everything worse. When it became unbearable, she closed her eyes strongly and screamed silently while crying, clutching her chest and clothes. Almost as it hurt the mere action of breathing.

The silence that followed was always heavier than the storm. Ctimene felt grief closing her eyelids this time. She didn’t need to eat… she just… needed to sleep. Pass the time and hope for it to work hard and relieve her pain.

Odysseus on the other hand, was having trouble getting some sleep that night. Penelope was there, hugging him and a hand over his chest, her consciousness already in Hypnos' hands, sleeping soundly and with a smile on her lips, her husband's heartbeat lulling her into nightmareless dreams.

The alpha tilted his head and smiled in love, taking the edge of the cover to pull it up and cover her bare chest and shoulders, which matched his own body au naturel. The passionate encounter between them was always very meaningful for Odysseus. He felt that with every caress and kiss, the filth and pain were gradually being washed away.

In his darkest days then and now, Penelope was his drive. It was just as his father used to say, that in the end…

His father…

Oh.

His father.

The king's eyes regained a little more sparkle, a faint smile appearing on his face. It may have been too late to save his mother, but his father was still alive. How could he have let so much time pass without rushing into his arms to let him know he was back?

It's because I've had a lot to do. Between cleaning the castle, dealing with the loyalties of our servants, everything we've had to sort out with the council, what I've had to study to catch up, and my time with Telemachus, Penelope, and... Odysseus swallowed hard, feeling guilty for his sister and how their first encounter had gone.

Maybe he shouldn’t have fleed the way he did, maybe he…

He took a deep breath, not letting his thoughts go with Ctimene and pushed her to the back of his mind.

She would be fine, she was strong and resilient like him. He was convinced by his own fear and the other intricated feelings that his sister preferred time for herself in order to move on.

For now, what was on his agenda as soon as dawn broke was to visit his father Laertes and let him know he was back.

Chapter Text

The road to Laertes’ farm was one Odysseus knew by memory. His feet knew exactly where they were walking, every rock at the sidelines of the marked by human steps trail was always the same.

The king had become accustomed to going unnoticed, so before leaving the palace he had taken a cloak that covered him almost completely. There was no need, but something inside him, his survival instinct, insisted that he stay under the radar of everyone.

Odysseus moved with measured steps, his cloak floating with the wind, as if announcing him to the world despite his intents to remain as a normal traveler. And finally, just like he remembered, he saw it.

Ahead, the hills opened into the valley where his father had tilled the land for decades. The sight of it stirred an ache in him. Oh memories, sweet and sour owners of the soul. The orchards still stretched out in the earth while the vines looped over worn trellises, the figs swollen in the late season. The alpha inhaled, and nostalgia hit him hard, the air carrying the mingled scents of soil, olive bark, and ripening fruit. He knew those scents so well. They carried him backward, straight into moments where his mother would turn to look at him and smile, Ctimene behind her body and suddenly smiling brightly seeing him arrive alongside his father.

He was crowned king way too young, so the times where he visited them in their new home, now those where happy and memorable moments. He remembers how he could spend hours at his father’s side, hands raw from spading, laughter quick between them.

Odysseus was glad back then at the brightness returning to his father’s eyes. Country life was returning Laertes his soul and spirit back then. The alpha wondered if such cure was enough to keep him sane in his absence.

Near the orchard’s heart, Odysseus saw him, the man he was yearning to see again. Laertes was bent low, his shoulders narrow with age though his frame still preserved the echo of power. He was an old but powerful alpha. It could be read in the air, bringing the old man’s pheromones to Odysseus.

The spade struck soil in slow, deliberate thrusts, dust clung to his tunic, and his arms trembled faintly with each movement. His scent carried faintly on the breeze notes of wornness, a little tinges of heavy grief, and even if the core of authority still remained, the king sighed at the clear read he could have of his beloved father.

He was tired of loss and waiting.

Odysseus was as well, and he was supposed to be younger dear gods.

Laertes was focusing on the work. The news of his son’s return hadn’t reached him yet, he asked Philoetious about it but the man politely replied that it would be better if Eumaeus and Ctimene explained everything to him. The former king raised an eyebrow after he granted the beta man a day of rest, he looked tired and shocked, he was in no condition to do his chores in the moment. A few days had gone by already and the old alpha was wondering why his daughter was taking so long in the palace. He missed her dearly, her laughter, the beauty of her eyes, the tender way she tended to him.

That made him wonder of course. Could it be something happened to Penelope and his grandchild? He didn’t feel the strength in him, but if necessary, he was sure the gods would bestow him with strength to wield his sword once more to protect his pack.

What was left of it, at least.

Odysseus paused in the shadow of an olive tree, and his own scent was about to reveal his identity. He had used a little amount of scented oils to conceal the name his pheromones carried, and he couldn’t help the smile when his father straightened at last, wiping his hand across his brow only to stop for a second, sniffing around.

Now that’s and old warrior right there, Odyseus thought, glad to see Laertes’ instincts remained sharp.

The older alpha’s gaze found the figure at the orchard’s edge. For an instant Laertes stood taller, testing the air between them and trying to figure out if this man was friend or foe.

“Are you a traveler?” asked, taking him for a foreigner.

“I am, I come from overseas in search of someone.”

The man blinked and took a few moments to think, then, he raised his head again and tilted it, specks of hope written in his eyes.

“Do tell, do you bring word from the sea’s far paths? Perhaps you have news about burned down kingdoms and brave warriors returning to their homelands. Would you, by any chance, know if Odysseus, King of Ithaca, still draws breath?”

Odysseus’ chest tightened. He longed to close the space between them, to seize his father’s shoulders and pour out the truth.

It is me father, your Odysseus! I’m back home!

However, he remembered his mother and his soul hurt. He had failed her, let her die of a broken heart. He had delayed so long because of his pride and arrogance that it was HIM who had practically pushed her into the grave himself.

The king was sure that Ctimene hated him. What if his father also held a grudge against him for taking away his beautiful mate, the love of his life? If so, he wasn't sure if he could bear the pain of seeing the man who had raised him in his early childhood turn his back on him.

The proud, stern, but loving father who had filled those tender years with light, amazement, tales and stories laced with laughter and a bright tomorrow.

He loved his Penelope and his Telemachus, but his father was also an important part of his heart. Just as his mother had been and as Ctimene was. And in that last part he had already tainted it with blood and darkness.

“I… I’ve only heard tales here and there. I’m not sure if the same man you loved will ever come back to Ithaca,” murmured, avoiding Laertes’ gaze.

Because he was in fact, not the same man. He was not the kind, filled with brightness son that had left his parents. The one who, in the midst of a war he never had the intention to participate into, still tried and aimed to make his name and the name of his country grand.

Laertes sighed and nodded, returning to work. Not without hope, but Odysseus clutched his chest as he noticed that he was doing so a little more wearily. It pained him that his fear of hatred and rejection from the one he loved and had admired so much during his puphood was hurting his father like this.

Odysseus’ throat burned with the incertainty and looked around, his heart feeling a little lighter at the scenery. He remembered each tree, how as a boy he had planted them under Laertes’ guidance, the soil cool and damp in his hands, the pride of an alpha son eager for his father’s praise.

Now those same trees stood their leaved rustling with the warm wind all arounf them. His nostrils caught again the thin trace of his father’s scent, fragile yet unbroken. And in that endurance, Odysseus felt his own inner alpha stir in kinship. The bond of alphas, father and son, pressed invisibly between them, as steady as the roots beneath the earth.

He gave one step, then another, and taking in some courage, he walked to stand even nearer to Laertes.

The man’s steps faltered when he reached his father’s side. The old king not paying any more attention to him until the spade struck the earth, it was that moment when Laertes’ eyes rose inquisitive, the alpha almost hesitant when the hazel orbs where on him.

The same eyes Ctimene had. The same eyes that he refused to see after delivering heart crushing news.

“Father…” The word slipped from his lips before he could call it back.

Longing had taken over Odysseus. The word hung in the air, practically trembling. Laertes froze, his grip on the spade tightening as though against a sudden wind. Odysseus let go a shuddered gasp, inmmediatly drawing a shaky breath, his voice breaking with so many feelings lacing the words.

“Father, it’s me. I am your son. Your Odysseus, I… I returned at last.”

Laertes turned to him sharply, disbelief sparking in his weary eyes, his body stiffened with instinct, the alpha testing the air, searching for the truth. Odysseus took his hood off, meeting his gaze and stepped closer, the old bond rising between them.

The older alpha wanted to believe, but he knew he wouldn’t survive a crushed hope this big. His inner alpha pulled him into waiting, squinting its eyes and trying to find something, anything at all that could indicate that this man, right there, was their beloved child.

Anticlea’s eyes and shape should be enough, but no, the scent on the man had some floral notes and therefore it was odd. Laertes needed something else. It had been twenty years, he needed to be able to fully believe.

“Do you doubt me?” Odysseus asked, a fragile smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes burned with unshed tears. He wanted to laugh, yeah, that was his father. His father! “Then let me speak of the proof that no stranger could know.”

Turning around, he breathed in the memories one more time before his hand swept toward the orchard, index finger pointing out with certainty.

“You gave me thirteen pear trees, Father. Each one I planted with your hands guiding mine. Ten apple trees followed, strong and full of promise, their blossoms as white as dawn. And there, the figs, clustered and sweet, a gift of twenty rows, each fruit heavy in the summer air. Beyond them, the vines… fifty vines, their roots drinking deep from the earth, their branches destined to carry wine for feast and sacrifice alike. And the olives… the olives that outlast us all, as you said they would be. Each one was mine because you wished it, and each one still stands because of you.”

Odysseus kept talking, the old man’s face crumpled in recognition and an explosion of relief. The man naming the trees was smiling tenderly, and even if he was on profile, Laertes knew that face, that expression, that hair flowing in the wind. His breath caught in his throat, and with a broken sound he dropped the spade.

“Odysseus…” the name was both whispered with disbelief and joy, sorrow and hope renewed. He reached forward as fast as he could, hands trembling, and clasped his son as only a desperate father can do. “Oh my boy! My son! My child!” Laertes said, hugging the man, burying one hand on his hair, feeling him, making sure he wasn’t dreaming. The raw purring from the alpha made the old king to almost choke in between his feelings. “Odysseus… Odysseus… my beloved boy… I’ve missed you so much my dear legacy.”

Father and son clung to one another, the air heavy with the mingling of their scents expoding in grief, relief, pride, and love.

“Father… Father… Oh Father… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me Father…” Odysseus buried his face against Laertes’ shoulder, inhaling the fragile but steady presence of the alpha who had shaped him.

“My dear boy, there is nothing to forgive. You’re back, you’re here with us at last.”

“No Father, there is too much… so many sins…I’ve done things… I… I am not the same, Father… please forgive me. I am not the same son you once held dear near your heroic heart.”

Laertes smiled, hugging Odysseus harder.

“Now who is speaking nonsense? I never thought losing the head might be contagious,” he smiled at the restrained chuckle from the man. “We all come back from war different, and we hold darkness we didn’t have before,” he pulled away from his son, gently placing neatly the messy hair of his son. “You’ll figure it out. But you need to remember, you’re no longer at war, son.”

The older alpha knew war, and knew a little of the many things his son might be suffering. So he asked without further ado.

“Where are the others? Your best friend, your sister’s husband, your men who followed you into the war… where are they now?”

Odysseus’ breath caught. The joy in his chest trembled, shadowed by grief. His gaze faltered, and he pressed his lips together, unable to shape the words. For a heartbeat he could not meet his father’s eyes, afraid of what he would see in his hazel stare.

“Father…” he whispered, voice rough. “Not a single one who left have returned… we… we found monsters in our journey back… they fell to them…” His hand lingered against Laertes’ shoulder, clinging as though his touch could delay the weight of truth.

Yeah, and he was one of those monsters. He could accept it to himself, and live with the blood and darkness, but let the world to know the extent of the monster? They wouldn’t see things as he did, they wouldn’t understand why it had to be that way.

And somehow, deep down, it terrified him to think that maybe, they would be right. But how could he regret what brought him alive? How could he try and justify all the things that his crew did that slowly condemned them as well? It was not everything his fault, but… but he… might, might…

The old man knew there was more behind it. But he remembered the trauma, darkness and death quite well. He didn’t know if his son had it way worst than him, but, for Odysseus to have been missing for twenty years, Laertes was willing to believe it.

“Well, like I said, you’ll figure it out. And in time, I hope you do what’s the right thing to do.” Those words sank quite a bit the king’s stomach, but his heart went a little bit lighter with his father gesturing him to follow him. “Now come with me, we have a lot of talking to do, dear son. Old man to older man.”

The younger alpha couldn’t help to laugh. He had forgotten that indeed both were now old men.

Telemachus was staring at the flaming red roses, his blush complementing the color of the gorgeous flowers. The prince felt quite self-conscious about this courting thing, he was very used to be discreet, quiet in his intentions, cautious to not be discovered. Therefore, he was used to Antinous acting like that as well.

They were at the doors of the council room. The alpha had waited for the royal, and the second he came out, the young man stopped at the lovely surprise waiting for him. The guards were staring cautiously at each other. The meaning of such moment was extremely clear, not even a blind man could possibly miss it.

“Thank you,” the omega said, taking the bouquet and smiling at the suitor, “These are beautiful Anti.”

His fingers touched the petals, so soft and velvety. He liked flowers a lot ever since he was a little pup. Loved the different smells, the feeling of the corolla every time his pads delighted on touching those different colored floral envelopes.

“Of course they are, little wolf. You deserve the very best, your highness,” he smiled proud, getting closer, a faint smirk tugging his mouth when Telemachus shifted back ever so slightly, his nervous smile betraying the omega. “And that includes me… Those are not only a gift this time, I think you know the implications of red roses,” he whispered, closing the distance until his breath grazed the younger’s ear.

Telemachus could feel the dumb and extremely nervous smile as the red covered his entire face. This was too much, the guards were looking, and if the council members decided to get out now, they would be witnesses of their courting and affection.

He was used to what he understood as romantic love to being simple, almost and practically in the shadows. His life with his alpha was totally theirs, private, just the two of them. Maybe occasionally a third party if you counted that his mother knew and that Athena didn't exactly give them much privacy when she wanted something from Telemahus.

But that was another matter entirely.

Telemachus cleared his throat, not wanting to give Antinous the entire upper hand. So he steadied his heart to be able to counter attack. The royal tilted his head, and with and smirk laced through flirteatious intentions, opted to take one rose, bringing it right to his nose.

“I didn’t know arrogance was a fragrance,” he murmured, inhaling deeply and battling his eyelashes in the way he already knew, turned his suitor madly in love and placed him right into the palm of his hand and desires. “But perhaps it suits you, you are indeed, one of a kind. In all the ways, good and bad.”

Antinous obsidian eyes were glued to those hypnotizing irises, he might have been caught into the spiral of the spell, but he was getting the hang of not losing himself so easily.

If this cocky omega thinks he can always get me with those mesmerizing big…

Telemachus was distanced enough for him to slightly tilt his head to a side, too much like a cute fluffy owl.

…round…

The fleaks of brown making a ring there in the black, and the way it combined with the whole estructure of his face.

…intelligent… and… and fucking gorgeous eyes… shit… I want to kiss him… fuck it, I need to kiss him.

Antinous grunted and palmed his face, so disappointed at himself. The prince, chocked on laughter and covered his mocking with the red roses.

Who would have ever known that both of them would ever be more than friends?

The suitor chuckled and shook his head, eyebrow raising and releasing his scent, making Telemachus to slowly stop laughing and smirk instead. The purpose of the pheromones in a word? Daring. More than one? To make the other rise with challenge. Just the way they liked it.

“Of course I’m one of a kind, but I’m already taken so I’m sorry to say the world will miss on such a treasure. However, on brighter news, I would say that you,” he gripped the royal’s waist, making him gasp when he pulled the young man towards him, bodies colliding and making Telemachus nervous again, “are such a lucky one, little wolf.”

The omega snorted and proceded to hit his face with the top part of the roses, making Antinous to whine and close his eyes.

“Hey!”

“Oh please, this didn’t even hurt. Who is the delicate princess now? Huh?”

The guards kept watching both men teasing each other and pulling strands of hair with their teeth, stares always locked and grunting at each other. Their facial reactions showed how confused they were in reality.

Such an… unconventional way of courting. But oh, if they actually knew all that layered behind those moments.

Telemachus allowed an entertained huffed chuckle to leave him before placing the flowers on the suitor’s nape, his hands traveling there to embrace Antinous and bring their faces closer.

“This is nice, especially after dealing with the council about necessary but stupid things to do to ensure our future.”

“I see, so that’s what you were doing out of my sight,” replied, making the prince to roll his eyes not without a tug upward of his mouth, “Furfilling princely duties.”

Telemachus brought the bouquet again to Antinous’ face, the alpha just closing his eyes like a scolded dog being hit in the nose.

“Those princely duties, shall be your duties soon as well, Anti,” the blue-eyed man smirked, not missing the way Antinous grunted as all answer. “What? The crown is not that enticizing anymore?” The flowers hit the alpha’s face again lightly, “Dumbass?”

“Annoying omega.”

“Brainless alpha.”

Both chuckled, eyes half lidding as they got closer.

“Irresponsible and hot tempered alpha.”

“Reckless and idealist omega.”

The guards tried not to look at them, feeling like they were interrupting something. It didn’t help that both lovers were producing a mixed scent that only proved how private this was. Their inner selfs were interacting, and it was clear.

Antinous’ cedarwood seemed to hit first. Deep and steady, undomitable strength and unyielding confidence, wrapping around the senses both protective and possessive, heavy with intent. But then Telemachus’ fragrance rose to meet it, the lovely notes of bluebells and mountain dew proving to be bright and clean, a fresh breath on it all. It threaded through the darker notes with a purity that lifted and tempered. His scent brought clarity, the strength of youth, and the final hit was delightful, in the form of a sharp, clever spark. A special something that refused to be overshadowed.

Like a breeze dancing through pine, together, both gland produces created a strange harmony. The cedar gave the bluebell’ delicacy a place to anchor, while the mountain dew’s cool sensation sharpened the musk into something more refined.

Actually, this was exactly the reason why myrepsos where often anything but betas or could be found with the company of the other two subgenders. As experts in this field of nice scent making, they found inspiration in the way the gods decided to show beauty through the air.

This type of event between the alpha and omega bodies had long ago attracted the attention of scholars of all kinds. Great philosophers, poets, doctors, and minds both brilliant and curious wondered how much these mixtures actually meant and said. How many secrets they held.

How much inner insticts knew and kept quiet underneath every subgender.

The result from Telemachus’ inner omega and Antinous’ inner alpha meeting this way was neither purely heavy nor purely light, it was the paradox of fierce fire and brimstone on a clear dawn, of determination wrapped in tenderness, of bite and bloom coexisting. It felt like a clash at first, wild and unruly, but the longer it lingered, the more the scents wove together into something magnetic, undeniable.

A promise, unspoken but palpable: strength that would not crush, gentleness that would not falter.

Both young men were lost at each other’s gaze, like gravity, a strong and undeniable pull. Telemachus was drowning in those deep abisms, his mouth sensing the warmth of the other’s breath. In plain daylight, Antinous’ eyes were more beautiful that under the flames light or the moon glimmer.

“Infuriating love of mine…” the prince whispered, lips brushing the dark-haired's mouth edges.

Antinous allowed a shaky breath to leave him. Finally able to call this person how his heart craved, was so much more than he ever imagined.

“Troublesome mate of my life…” whispered, a secret confession, a quiet promise that made that lovely shade of rose to cover Telemachus’ cheeks.

There was an infuriated scent that burst their bubble and a low growl following it, both lovers slightly turning their heads and having quite different reactions at the intruder watching them barely two meters away. Telemachus whole face painted red, his eyes bulging out and mouth nervously opened in a comical way. Antinous, well…

Antinous was not thrilled, not even trying to disguise how fast his face contorted in a grimace that pictured him showing one canine in defiance and washing all tenderness and good will from his features.

The alpha never thought the day would come when he hated cinnamon smell with so much fucking passion.

“We. Were. Busy…” Antinous muttered, dragging his words and making clear the old king was not welcome… to him at least.

“I hardly call seducing my son into corruption a good way to spend the time,” the king slurred as well, looking sharp and annoyed at the young man.

“Oh good Demeter…” expressed the prince, closing his eyes and mentally cursing as he could feel the irritation growing on Antinous’ body.

“Corruption?” the suitor hissed, a twitch under his left eye. “The fuck are you talking about? I knew you swallowed too much ocean water but fuck, you’re also senile.”

Odysseus’ right eye now also had a twitch matching Antinous. Both gazes clashing while Telemachus grumbled in annoyance, those two testing the limits of his patience.

And it was only the second day of a lifetime if the gods were kind. Telemachus twisted his mouth slightly in deep thought, looking up at the sky as the two men exchanged insults and venom. He wondered how would Athena feel of all of this… she didn’t like Antinous too much, but she had already learned to tolerate him and sporadicly appreciate his efforts and actions. And while Odysseus was her former Warrior of the mind, she told him that both grew apart, this filling her with questions and regrets.

The growl of Antinous as a response of something his father said startled him, turning his attention again to the fighting alphas and sighing in resignation, letting the suitor go to act as the intermediator between those two.

Worst to his huge but thin patience was one little but quite important detail. This, was not the first time Odysseus stumbled with them in moments like few minutes earlier, or worse, interrupted them directly. And every time, this soured Antinous’ mood entirely.

Both alphas shut up when Telemachus stood right between them, tapping his right foot on the floor and letting his eyes to go from one another with a raised eyebrow. Odysseus cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck while Antinous crossed his arms and clicked his tongue, turning his head to not see the king.

But could somebody blame them? They hated each other. And hate was the word used because no other had been invented yet.

Someone had to create a specific word for the feeling of “I love you my dear, but if you asked me to kill your father/lover, I’d be more than willing and happy to get rid of his existence with my bare hands”.

Telemachus and Penelope were both certain their forced cohabitation in the same territory would compel them to smooth out the rough edges in one way or another, not with little intervention from each of them. But the king had been rightfully back for barely two days now. For the older alpha, Antinous was still a threat and an annoying cockroach soiling his home’s floors; and for the younger alpha, Odysseus was the embodiment of everything bad, obsolete, stupid, and unpleasant.

What's more, his inner alpha wasn't at all happy about sharing his territory, let alone talking about his omega. Both alphas knew their main trigger point had name and was the only thing preventing to pounce against each other no better than wild wolfs in the forest.

“I already talked with the council about the suitors’ bodies issue and the arrangements for their families to receive them is on course,” the royal said, calm and searching for a diplomatic way to close that moment of fighting. “I also brought up the issue of the trials of the survivors of our pack, Father. The council agreed, so all of them will undergo a thorough review of their actions. Depending on the acts of each of them, the council, the royal family and the king,” Telemachus turned to look at his father with respect, causing Odysseus to tilt his head to gently smile at him, “will provide the corresponding warnings, punishments, and sentences."

The older alpha stared then at the suitor, and his question made the young omega uncomfortable.

“Will your lover also be questioned and put on trial?”

One corner of Antinous's mouth rose to reveal his teeth and the low growl he directed at the man. However, as soon as Telemachus spoke, his expression disappeared, though he continued to look at the king with displeasure.

“I wish it wasn’t necessary… but as much as I hate to admit it… you’re right,” his blue eyes looked down at the roses he still had, the grip on the stems free of thorns getting tighter. “If we let Antinous’ actions go just like that without a judgment, we… we set a precedent.”

The suitor nudged him with his elbow, the tranquility on his face making Telemachus smile, a little less anxious. Odysseus closed his eyes and nodded once. Since Penelope told him that Telemachus had gone to talk with the council, he just wanted to make sure he had done what it was necessary.

He knew it would be hard to believe, but he was not doing that in spite for Antinous, well, not completely. The king knew how people acted and had seen so many times how a single exception could be the eruption of chaos and many other exceptions.

It had to be done. And in the process he would be able to hear a full version of what that bastard had actually done these past years in his absence. Perfect.

“You did well, my son,” Odysseus couldn't help but smile when he saw how shy and happy his little boy became at his words of pride. “I have my own business to discuss with the council, so I'll leave you to rest or take care of other matters.”

“Of course, thank you very much, Father.”

The young man blushed slightly at the kiss his father gave him on the forehead. He was so happy that he didn't see the warning glance his father gave his almost mate, nor the sharp response in the eyes of his chosen one.

“Well,” began the prince, “now that we're back where we left off,” a mischievous smile on his face, “what do you say we get away from it all for a while?”

“You don't have to say another word,” replied the alpha, taking the young man's hand and running off.

The faster they went, the sooner the scent would disappear and the less chance the king would have of finding them.

Their secret place was always wonderful. And their shared moments in there were also delightful. They had reached such a point not only of control, but also of enjoyment in small things and futile moments, that they hadn't even had to reach intercourse to feel breathless, flooded with adrenaline and satisfaction.

With one last kiss, they dropped into the ground, lying on the grass inside the bush, facing each other, their bodies side by side. It didn't seem like they had been about to devour each other wildly five minutes ago. Least of all because Telemachus had caught Antinous staring at his stomach.

Telemachus smiled, not saying anything, just looking at him with tender eyes. After one minute, Antinous moved his hand to the omega's abdomen, gently touching him from top to bottom. The prince remained silent, his heart beating faster and faster, strongly. The world stopped at the same time as the suitor's hand, there in the center of his stomach.

“I thought your wish... our wish... was just... an idea... You know?” Antinous chuckled, now turning to look at the prince face to face. His full attention was focused on him and his words. “But I think, it's something else entirely... and well, you know me...” He proceeded to let out a laugh that Telemachus recognized as nervous.

The alpha cleared his throat and looked away as he removed his hand, sighing and turning his body to stare at the sky covered with rose leaves. The silence in the floral space didn't really feel like silence; his head was buzzing incessantly, thousands of thoughts pounding inside his mind.

“That scares me,” he admitted with embarrassment.

Being honest with Telemachus was no longer as shameful as it had been before, but given his personality and way of understanding the world, it was still difficult for him to admit his emotions and feelings.

The prince kept his gaze fixed on him. More than willing to understand him, Antinous just looked so vulnerable and Telemachus wanted to look at him longer, much longer. Because he remembered, he remembered very well everything they had been through, what they had had to run from and overcome in order to be where they were now.

The childhood friendship, the pain, the hatred, the hostility, the reintroduction of the affection they had once shared, and finally, the love that had blossomed between them.

From wishing Antinous gone or even from wishing his demise, the omega now knew that he didn’t want even to think a world without him. He loved him and more. Much more.

Facing the suitor, Telemachus calm features smiled again after being attentively listening his soon to be mate. Antinous felt soft fingerpads angling his head to look back at the royal, sharp black bright eyes falling on the omega.

“It’s okay to feel scared. I mean, as an example, even after all this time I’ve been longing for him and waiting, I feel nervous about my father being back into my life, you know? Afraid of disappointing him, or making him angry… I feel like a child with those feelings…” he chuckled, realizing how the alpha was containing his growl at the mention of the king. “But I’m also afraid of this, you know?”

To make his point clear, he grabbed Antinous’ hand and placed it on his stomach again, smiling softly at the surprise written all over the suitor because of his revelation. His hand stayed there with Antinous’ one.

“I’m so scared of this. It’s something entirely new and unknown… I’m not sure if I’ll be a good parent for our child, and heck, I don’t even want to dwell in the moment where this pup of yours will kick my ass in order to meet you as well.”

The sincerity and nervousness of the last, made Antinous to choke and laugh hard. Especially because of how literal the last part was.

“Always so eloquent, little wolf,” managed to say, still with the hand on Telemachus’ abdomen and still laughing.

“I’m trying to be serious here!” Telemachus attempted to say unruffled, failing miserably, laughter slipping between his words and breath itself.

Antinous dragged Telemachus closer, remanents of laughter in small airy snickers, hugging him and breathing in his scent, humming so much more relaxed. The prince placed an arm wrapping him and the other holding his nape, burying his fingers in his silk like black hair.

“Maybe life it’s just not spent as planned, and maybe that’s why being scared it’s not wrong... Maybe to fall is to learn one way, and, you know? Even if we might fuck it up more than once… maybe it’s all gonna turn out great.”

The silence from his suitor mimicked the feeling he had inside. But Telemachus hummed, as if challenging the future, suddenly making the alpha yelp with how out of the blue he bit him in the neck to break the tension.

“I know we’ll be fine. Let’s face it when we get there.”

The wolfish grin had Antinous looking at him and smirking in response, holding him tight and biting his neck as well, making the royal to grin and blush at the same time.

“You should learn by now I never stop at a challenge, wolfie.”

Telemachus hummed, as if giving it a moment of consideration before locking his eyes with the suitor and smiling mischieviously.

“Maybe I do know.”

Antinous remembered something and became serious, taking the young man by the cheeks, the royal questioning him with his gaze.

“And for the record, you are not a child.”

“What?”

“You know, that thing you said earlier, that you felt stupid and like a child because of what your father awakened in you.”

“Hey wait a minute, I didn't say I felt stupid,” Telemachus replied, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Whatever, words or no words.” The prince rolled his eyes and shook his head gently. The alpha did not hesitate in the confident tone he used to make his lover understand how serious he was. “I know I bothered you a lot with that and I still do, but I stopped seeing you as a child many years ago. I saw you in many negative ways back then, but I haven't seen you as a child since I returned from training in Sparta.”

Telemachus' eyes sparkled at his response. Especially because of what it implied, the real weight of those words. Someone who, despite everything in the past, had seen him as more than just the little prince that everyone saw and wanted to protect.

His mouth slightly open at those words, he quickly composed himself though, smiling gratefully for the words. Telemachus proceeded to settle himself better to lie down with him and, raising his head, he didn't wait and brought his mouth to his, starting with soft kisses to encourage him to respond.

Which, of course, the suitor was going to do.

Chapter Text

It was night, a clear one free from any clouds, the moon shining glorious and bright over all of the sea. Penelope was watching something from her balcony, with no intention of interrupting, a tender smile and a little sadness on her face. She couldn't help it; she thought it was beautiful that there were still people able to enjoy the springtime of their lives, and at the same time, the memory of how she and Odysseus had lost so much time together overwhelmed her.

Speaking of which, the king turned in bed and opened an eye to find his Queen’s side empty.

Straightening his head and yawning at the same time, he found her looking at something in the distance from the balcony. He let out a soft grunt, as he wanted to continue sleeping and found it difficult to do so without her by his side, so he got up, not bothering to cover his nakedness unlike the woman, who was wearing a soft and thin sleeping robe over herself.

He approached her and began to slowly kiss her shoulders, making Penelope giggle with delight.

“What are you looking at with such interest?”

“I don't think we share the same feelings about what I'm seeing, dear,” Penelope commented, raising an eyebrow as she smiled.

Odysseus leaned over, curious, until he realized. His face was a picture of uncomfortableness and irritation. He raised the corners of his lips, to show teeth and let out a grunt before looking at his mate in disbelief.

“Really, Penelope? I don’t get it, what do you see in them? I'm surprised that even with everything that... that man... did to you and our son, you can still see with those beautiful eyes of yours how he soils our home, making Telemachus waste his time like that.”

The queen pulled a strand of hair hardly, making the king to close one eye and whine, turning to see her with question in him. Penelope had lost her smile and was looking at him with disapproval.

“My love, if our son were doing this sort of things with any other, you’d be delighted. Besides, I don’t find a nice thing to insult the traditions with which Ithacan alphas and omegas court. It’s disrespectful, and you over all people should know it.”

His wife's serious tone hit him like a bucket of cold water. Odysseus grunted but admitted she was right. Besides, they had also performed the same courtship rituals, mostly because of his alpha nature.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, “I didn't mean to imply that what they're doing is a waste of time or stupid.” He took his wife's hand, drawing a soft smile on her face again. “How could I say that when some of my best memories are doing the same thing with you, my love?”

Taking his hand, Penelope got close to kiss his cheek and sighing, she leaned on his shoulder, both watching the young lovers right there on the edge of the ocean.

Telemachus had persuaded Antinous to join him in the beach. The water of the soft waves making an exquisite sensation on their feet as they walked in the sandy and shallow part of the shore. The prince was nervous, after all, he had never courted before in his life. He had the basic knowledge and ideas, but, he wondered if he would manage to let his heart to lead the way everyone he asked about it seemed to say and point out.

Just like females and males in the wild, alphas and omegas had lovely customs to show appreciation, intent and desire. Betas usually sticked to the usual courting ways: giving gifts, flowers, reciting poetry or singing to win the maiden’s heart. Of course there were a few traditions beta men had taken from alphas and omegas, which, luckily were gorgeous and beautiful details that seemed to charm their prospects to unite as lovers or spouses.

Courting techniques varied throughout the world, even though many actions had become commonplace, each kingdom and region had its own special tweaks and details to woo an alpha or omega. Ithaca, as an island kingdom, had lovely rituals considered to court a potential forever mate. Some of them were, for example, omegas wearing sea-dyed fabrics or tokens colored different shades of blue and green to mimic the sea, signals of wealth, but also of fertility and vitality; and alphas gifting smooth and colorful sea stones or shell and bead necklaces to their chosen omega, symbolizing a home they will build together.

Telemachus gulped once to steady his nerves and stop walking, waiting for his chosen future mate to turn around and pay attention to him before starting what had brought them to that place.

The suitor contemplated the royal extending his hand. No words, only that handsome and slightly cheeky smile of his, softened now by something deeper. A deeper intent in the hiding. Antinous smirked, accepting, and let himself be pulled into the omega’s body.

Sand gleamed like powdered silver where the tide crept forward in gentle laps. Each wave unfurled and dissolved around their ankles, cool against their skin, leaving trails of foam that glimmered like constellations spilled at their feet. The whole magic and beauty of the sea, unyielding and powerful, the source of both riches and tragedies, a natural unstoppable force altogether.

Antinous reached for Telemachus’ other hand, and when their fingers met, the omega let out a quiet laugh, light but nervous, his heart hammering, now him being the one that stepped forward into the circle of Antinous’ arms.

There was no music, they didn’t need it, only the rhythm of the tide, the sigh of the wind, and the beating of two hearts desperate to align.

They began to move together, bare feet sank into wet sand, sliding, retreating, advancing in time with the waves. Telemachus tilted his head, lips curled in that mischievous smirk he knew drove Antinous crazy.

“You’re too stiff,” teased, brushing his shoulder deliberately against the alpha’s chest as he twirled once, challenging him to keep up.

Antinous chuckled low, following the dance and then gripping tight the prince’s waist to catch him and pull the omega back to his body. “Careful, wolfie. Teasing has consequences.”

None was aware they were being watched, not for long, only a few minutes ago, but their dance was being both studied and admired by their elders.

Antinous’ grip on his waist was firm, guiding, yet Telemachus resisted just enough to tease, twisting away before spinning back into his hold. A rhythm of push and pull, like tide and shore.

Their steps slowed, turned into sways, bodies closer now, heat thriving between them despite the cool spray of the sea. Telemachus was enraptured not by the dance itself that was already beautiful and totally guided by their hearts, but he was caught by the fascinating glow of Antinous’ obsidian eyes, the energy in them steady and strong.

For a moment he forgot how to breathe, his chest rising sharply as if he’d been struck. And maybe he was, for several years now.

Antinous lowered his head, their foreheads almost touching, breath brushing against the curve of Telemachus’ cheek. The prince’s lips parted, the smallest tremor in his throat betraying how lost he was in the moment. But he was not the only one.

“Little wolf,” Antinous murmured, voice husky enough to make the younger man’s heart to flutter. “You still amaze me after all this time.”

The royal laughed softly, breathless, eyes glimmering with both defiance and surrender.

“Then show me,” he whispered, “I command you to show me.”

Their mouths met, knowing of the other, deeper, both sides giving what they couldn’t express in words. Telemachus’ hand slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, demanding more. Antinous answered with a growl muffled into the kiss, the sound vibrating against the omega’s lips and making the prince to sigh and growl back.

Antinous loved such a thing. Such fire. Such dripping personality. They pulled away to regain oxygen and the alpha hissed something that caused for the royal to eagerly crash his mouth to his once more.

“If someone tried to hurt you, I’d fight for you in ways you can’t imagine… You’re mine… All mine.”

Odysseus grumbled the second he noticed how the dance was about to become the prelude to an intimate moment between the couple's mouths, and he genuinely hoped that his son would remember his obligations before letting his desire and hunger for the alpha take over his mind and body. Although he knew how difficult that could be, he barely managed to restrain himself with Penelope so that their little kisses would not turn into something more before they were united and she became the queen of Ithaca.

“Can we please go to bed now, beloved?” the alpha tried to convince his mate, kissing her shoulders and softly nibbling her neck. “We have a busy couple of days ahead of us. The trials will have place in three more days.”

“All right, all right,” Penelope agreed, noticing that the boys were going to have a moment to themselves beyond just courtship, “But don't think I've forgotten what our son was doing with his suitor. I think there is a little something that wedded couples and mates usually do after such a special moment like that. If the mood is just right.”

Odysseus raised an eyebrow and then blushed when Penelope stared at him with that look that promised an impure mind plotting things.

“Oh, then I guess that we can continue the part those two won’t do any time soon, huh?” the king replied, blushing hard but smiling eager and feeling his inner alpha reacting to the proposition hinted just now.

Penelope chuckled and as all answer she took the only fabric that was protecting her body and placed it so that it was on her husband's lower back, the ends in her hands, and she pulled on them to guide her beloved right where she wanted him.

“As you wish my Penelope,” Odysseus whispered, allowing himself to be guided by his queen into their olive tree bed.

Once on top and while they were kissing in so much love and feeling, Odysseus stopped, biting his own bottom lip and wondering. Penelope saw this and cupped his cheeks, making him to turn again into seeing her straight to the eyes.

“What troubles you my dear? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

The alpha chuckled and held one of her hands, her worn out by weaving but still soft and warm hands.

“Of course I want to my darling, more than anything… but I think… you need to know some of the things I’ve done before you surrunder your body again to me.”

The woman was a little worried at those words, especially after the sorrow and suffering plastered on her love’s face.

“Why is now an issue my love? We’ve delivered to other sorts of carnal pleasure before tonight and you were fine with the idea.”

Penelope was not judging him or angry, however, she was curious about it. But soon, as her husband opened his mouth and spoke, both sitting on the bed and listening each other’s reactions and breaths under the darkness only diminished by the starlight and lunar glow, Penelope understood this was something bigger than anything she had considered.

A little bit of all the trials her Odysseus had to suffer. And honestly, at least in this part, she did not know how to feel.

She wasn’t angry at Odysseus, who now saw her with so much fear and regret, written in anguished features on his face. No, she was angry at those women who had pushed her alpha into having to give into their whims and games, or else he would bear the guilt and blood of those he had promised to protect.

Circe was one thing… still she found she couldn’t understand why, after Odysseus resisted her magic and spells, she had taken interest into dragging him into such an… arrangement. Odysseus told Penelope that he was advised by the messenger god Hermes that such a thing was a necessary to counteract her magic, save his men and gain her help.

Even if she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the thought, she knew fully well the gods had no way of actually understand them in their sometimes twisted reasoning. And if Circe was also some sort of goddess of magic, then Penelope could only feel her inner beta grumbling in resignation and sorrow for the pain both of hers and her mate.

But Hades forbid… that wretched goddess… Calypso, her husband had whispered, eyes opening and slightly shaking. Oh with just that little bit, the queen knew she had done something unforgivable. And when she actually heard what she did to her husband…

Her blood boiled.

She, under a foul, obsessed and sickening fake understanding of love, had kept her man trapped in her island for seven years. Calypso had taken Odysseus as her lover and husband, despite his negatives and the resistance, and she had dared to claim her beloved Odysseus in the way only wife’s rights and duties demanded and allowed to.

Odysseus finished speaking, one hand nervously stroking the other. Such a sight made Penelope forget all the feelings swirling in her chest. Frowning and with her heart aching, she approached him, gently placing her hands on his, causing him to turn his face toward her with fear and hope.

“You did what you have to do to come back to me... I won’t say it does not hurt in my heart to hear such things,” Odysseus teared up when she mentioned that, “But I know you didn’t choose to lie with them because of temptation, but because you were trying to save your men and you were forced to do so.” She took a moment to let go a tear of her own and smile touched and sad at the same time, “You didn’t betray me, my love… I know you did not… but still, tell me… Did you ever think of me when you laid in their bed?”

The king broke into sobs and nodded fervently, hiccupping as he grabbed her hands and presed them between his own.

“You know I did my love! You were the one, the only one I imagined while everything was happening. And it made my heart ache in flames of pain and sorrow, because I wanted to be with you, I wanted to smell you, to feel you, to love you. Not the memory of you, the real you… Oh Penelope, you have no idea how many times I conjured you in my head these last twenty years.”

She hugged him in raw desperation, hugging him and sobbing hard as well. She wished so hard to be able to heal those wounds, to kiss the scars from his heart and make him whole again. Just how much of her husband had been ripped away?

He had already told her some things on their reunion. But she knew things as heavy as these, would be coming up in the upcoming weeks and maybe even months.

It was hard to think about it, so hard indeed.

They hugged a little less urgent, foreheads touching and Odysseus scent proving how he was finding momentarily peace. And when they did it, when their bodies met again in every way like they used to, they felt so strong, arms holding them keeping their souls safe and warm.

They were certain this link between them couldn’t be broken. And even if they couldn’t bond their souls together, they lived inside each other’s heart, even carried a stronger sentiment, they were etched in every fiber of their beings.

And so, the trial days arrived. News of what the prince and king had ordered against all those disloyal servants and guards had spread like wildfire. Their hanging bodies had been testimony to the return of strength and order to Ithaca.

The men of Antinous's pack could not help but be nervous, despite knowing that their omega was watching over them. For they knew full well that, contrary to the king's word, the prince had influence, but no power.

If the king so desired, he could ignore mercy in his son’s name and sentence them to death that very afternoon.

One by one, the guards fetch for them, and each suitor was placed under the watchful and judgmental gaze of the royal family and the council altogether. Relief came sooner rather than later when they realized that the prince had modified several details to ensure that their punishments and sentences would not be lethal in some cases.

The king did not look happy, but he didn’t raise any major objections each time another former suitor escaped his balance of vengeance.

Telemachus sighed deeply to calm his nerves when the council called Antinous to stand trial, glancing sideways at his father and then focusing his gaze on the doors that swung wide open, the creaking drawing the attention of all the inhabitants who had come to watch, murmurs rising with each step the alpha took, eliciting all kinds of looks from those present.

He was, after all, an imposing man.

The alpha, with hair and eyes as dark as the void, stood beneath the skylight of the place that forced him to reveal himself completely to those who decided his fate and life outside the gods on Olympus.

His attention turned first to his chosen mate, sweetening his eyes to reassure him, even though the prince knew he could not show favoritism in that place. Then he gave Penelope a serious look and a slight bow to show respect, to which she responded by closing her eyes and bowing even more imperceptibly. Finally, the black clashed with the brown, both glaring sharply at each other and restraining themselves from letting out a growl or gesture that could cost them dearly in front of the people.

Both inner alphas were glaring at each other as well, every nerve of the instinct bristling and growling in warning. This was not a truce, but it was something that had to be done.

Meanwhile, Ctimene had grown tired of all this. She had been making excuses for her brother for too long. Yes, he did look tired and traumatized when they first met, and she had believed and trusted that, in a matter of days, her brother would knock on her door, asking how she was feeling and finally ready, perhaps emotionally and mentally, to tell her what had happened to her husband, Odysseus' brother-in-law, as if that weren't enough.

But to her great disappointment and pain, this was not the case. It seemed as if her brother had abandoned her. Her mind wanted to justify him again, saying that he should stay until after the trials, but Ctimene didn't want to remain in the place that reminded her so much of the arduous and long wait that had ultimately proved fruitless... barren and cold as the desert, even.

She just wanted to return to her father and do what Penelope had been stubborn to comply with even after decades: mourn her husband. If Odysseus wanted to talk to her, it would cost him at least one trip... and even then, she was disappointed, very disappointed of him.

And hurt too, but she didn't want to feel pain anymore. Besides, this was her moment of clarity now that the sky on her face had no more rain to shed.

She put aside the empty tray that her inner beta's urge to survive had forced her to accept to nourish her body, and began to wander around the room in search of a brush for her tangled hair.

It looked like a nest of marine birds in the edge of a cliff.

Once she was ready, she left, taking a moment to think things through before heading to the building where the trials were being held. Eumaeus had returned with Laertes under her command, as she was going to stay for a few days and didn't want to deprive her beloved father of capable help in his home. However, before leaving, the slave had made sure to notify her of the most important events that he himself considered important for her to know.

If all of Ithaca knew except her, it would not help to improve her already depressing mood in the slightest. The omega knew how much the woman detested being in the shadows of what was important.

This was one of many reasons to explain why the king's silence was causing her so much distress.

The guards let her pass immediately. Ctimene had never been one for grand entrances. Leave that to her brother, the legendary silver-tongued Odysseus, the chosen one of Athena, the son of the mythical Laertes. For starters, she had no desire for glory, and furthermore, her destiny as a woman didn't lie in that direction. The doors were barely noticed as they opened to allow the woman to slip inside.

She wanted to say goodbye to them, to wish Telemachus good luck in this new stage of his life... and she felt quite melancholic, as it reminded her that she had wasted so much time dreaming of experiencing more of what he would now have a whole lifetime to enjoy.

She wanted to hug Penelope, for they had been companions in the darkness, the secrets, and the moments of laughter and light in their lives with their loved ones far from home. She hoped that this farewell hug would help heal her wounds a little; she wanted to feel cared for and protected, and who knows, maybe even happy because she had been able to see the light again.

And her brother... she wanted to make sure he knew where to find her. She needed to know what had happened. It wasn't a game or an exaggeration, and it was imperative that Odysseus knew.

And who better than her to pull the strings of her brother's heart to make him feel guilty? She had been doing it literally since they were children when it suited her. She was also very cunning.

“The sentence of the alpha Melanthius son of Dolius, is immediate exile from the nation of Ithaca.” There was a pause that lasted a few seconds. “However…”

Ctimene was just about to find a place among the audience when a voice rose. She couldn't help but shudder, a chill running through her from head to toe.

She knew who it was, but she didn't recognize her brother's voice when the sentence was spoken.

It was too cold, stony, and without a hint of kindness or mercy.

“The beta Melantho, daughter of Dolius, has proven to be a servant not only unfaithful, but also dangerous and treacherous towards the crown. That is why the sentence will be immediate death, for which she will hang for her deeds.”

Betas might not be as singular and remarkable as alphas or omegas were. Considered normal, and totally regular human beings, they were way more ignored when it came to instincts and special abilities. But like everything else, the subgender hides more than meets the eye.

They might not have impressive strength or speed, they couldn't detect smells with impressive acuity, and if the world were about to end and it depended on detecting environmental danger immediately, the betas would be the ones who would have the most difficulty.

Yes, the gods had not been very inspired the day they conferred their primary characteristics on them.

But betas were not left forgotten. For a different thing rose inside of them: observation. And depending of the person, the ability of survival entertwined with it. The betas were the ones who slipped in the shadows of plain daylight, they were the quiet and subtle ones, but the vital members to society balance.

Nature was wise, it knew the creations and danced the life ballad with elegance and brutality.

Ctimene just needed one hear of that voice for her to realize deep inside the monster that was right behind her. Like a revengeful and bloodied lone wolf. Every single hair on her stood on end, and her keen but silent reading told her that she should run or soon she would be done for.

She could feel it in the air, in every shaky breath, in the very same floor she was standing on. Many betas usually had hunches, inner selves urging them to listen and notice the little things unveiled right in front of their open eyes.

But many did not listen, see, or realized. For when we believe we’re nothing special, we don’t ponder the possibility we can actually have something exceptional.

Ctimene knew. She knew she shared the same heritage that her brother. Although far too many forgot it, and far more would surely forget it through history. But she was prideful of her blood, and she was the daughter of Anticlea… descendant of the Prince of Thieves, Autolycus… blood of Hermes the witted trickster and messenger god… and she was the Princess of Ithaca, daughter of King Laertes, mighty warrior and still legend.

Her inner beta held an eerie accuracy to place its hands in her mind and conjure a depiction inside about people’s true nature. Of course she could err from time to time, but that’s human nature.

However, Ctimene’s inner beta was not afraid of seizing her nature and send a message to her rational self.

Outside, throught one of the windows of the place, a falcon was watching, feathers puffing with delight after witnessing Ctimene’s inner beta sending warnings all over the place. The bird shuddered as if laughing, and opened its wings to fly away, getting lost under the sun’s brightness.

She could hear Telemachus’ voice arguing with his father, astonished by the decision and willing to turn the table into the woman’s fate. Ctimene however, was among the crowd, her eyes widened as she couldn’t believe what her brother had commanded.

He just… sentenced a pregnant woman… even if a traitor… to hang… while still carrying her child?

Ctimene’s hazel eyes did not reflect the horror she felt.

No… her brother would never…

Odysseus laughing with such a lovely smile on his face.

No… this had to be a mistake…

Her brother cradling his very own son, so much love and tenderness on his eyes.

Had to be… that feeling inside of her was wrong… How could even be true if…?

“It will be the son of the same man that rallied the suitors to commit acts against our family. And such offense will not be condoned or forgiven. If I don’t end this now, it will come back to end us,” declared as a final sentence the king, alpha pressure all over the place.

… It was…

Ctimene’s eyes dropped to the floor, feeling the awful sensation inside, missing entirely the intervention from the queen and slowly waking throught the seats in order to get outside of the building.

… This was not the brother she had been waiting for…

She opened the door enough to make her escape, the light flashing her just like the raw reality in her already heavy heart.

… Who was this man? It was Odysseus, he was still in there… but he was not the same man that left Ithaca…

Was it possible? Had the war crimes and suffering weighted so much in his shoulders that he had to tear them off and let them bleed on his back until the darkness and blood fused with his eyesight?

The turmoil was so, that she didn't recognize the attention that was focused on her. Antinous was leaning silently on one of the outer walls, his scent didn’t give away a thing, but a quick glance at the troubled into thought woman and he went into suppressing entirely his scent. Ctimene shuddered at something out of the normal happening near her and turned right and left in response until she found the one who was disturbing her thoughts.

Antinous recognized it wasn’t often when a beta had such a sharp intuition to notice his presence when he used his training to mimic some of the prime alpha’s abilities. This being a proof of why he was appalled when he noticed Ctimene was not an ordinary beta woman.

She embraced her inner beta, and Antinous knew this. He had learned from his mentor the abilities and true potential not only of omegas, but also betas. Aniketos had taught him among too many other things, that defeat came from the ignorance plenty of the times.

Ctimene gulped and kept looking at him. She could sense how dangerous and smart this man was, she felt a little related to a deer, cornered and being studied by a large wolf with no intent to kill, but rather curious and awake into getting to know the creature before deciding what to do.

The suitor had never looked at her like that. And she felt so conscious of herself because of it. The suitor was not even getting close, his obsidian eyes were the only thing, looking, studying her. And far more important, he raised an eyebrow at the woman not departing her hazel eyes from his.

She was nervous, even disturbed by his presence, but she was not yielding, she was not submitting. Not in a challenging way like Telemachus for example, no, she was aware that it was far more risky to stop looking at the predator than trying to block the danger by running away from it.

She is extremely smart, Antinous mused. But he blinked, sniffing once before breaking the contact and turning straight to the door. Someone was coming, and not just anyone. His little wolf was getting near to the exit.

Ctimene dived again in her thoughts when the alpha’s attention vanished from her, losing entirely the moment of Telemachus rushing outside, troubled expression and finding relief almost instantly when looking at his suitor.

Antinous received the omega as he basked in his warmth, one hand clutching the alpha’s chiton and the other placed discreetly over their shared secret, the older man feeling the troubled state of the prince’s peace of mind.

“What’s wrong? You’re feeling good?”

“I don’t know,” the royal admitted in a whisper. “I don’t feel wrong, but I feel as if something moved inside of me, not physically, more like, in myself… you get what I’m saying?”

Actually, he did not. Wanted to pinch his nose and say he was saying bullshit, but, as his omega was uncomfortable with that weird thing that troubled him, Antinous only placed his head on top of his, getting comfortable and purring to ease his worries.

“What happened in there?” pried, curious at the result of the last trial.

The royal grumbled and sighed, shaking his head, questioning a lot of things about what he thought he knew and also really tired, particularly in an emotional way.

“I’ll tell you all about it in a moment. I still need to make sure every sentence is fulfilled just as it was stipulated.”

His nose rubbed gently on the suitor’s before walking again into the bulding, making the other to close his eyes and revel in the feeling. Antinous would take that to the grave, but he loved when the little wolf did that, in his core he thought it was something adorable. But of course he would never admit it and even less would directly ask for it.

People was already leaving, talking and whispering about the things that transpired in the trial days that now were officially over. There was only one person who remained there, waiting for someone that needed to be confronted.

Ctimene had figured that, such dark aura she had sensed back there, definitely had to do with the death of her husband. No, not just her husband, it was related with all the men her brother had sailed with. Only the death and weight of those lives resting on his shoulders could have made him... like that.

She knew him. And she was quite angry, if she was being honest. Ctimene, more than ever, needed to know what happened. And she was determined to get it, one way or another. Her pain had found a place to go, transforming itself into righteous anger toward her brother.

As soon as her brother exited, the beta launched her attack. She didn't care much about Penelope's presence, who was startled to see her so angry. Odysseus, on the other hand, had seen her like this before.

If the king had been in his right mind or if he had been braver about his own actions and inner demons, he would have realized that the best course of action was to tell his sister what was fair and necessary and then let her deal with the grief and pain for a while (giving her support and comfort along with it would have been even better). However, the king of Ithaca had a tendency to beat around the bush, all in order to spare himself certain details that made him uncomfortable or terrified.

Ctimene grabbed her brother by the chiton next to his rich chlamys and let out a soft growl, not at all like an alpha or omega, for betas were not capable of such sounds, but rather a vestige of it.

“Odysseus, we need to talk. You've been avoiding me for too long now, and what happened in there,” she muttered, her eyebrows lowering in anger, “That wasn't my brother. So you'd better start reciting the answers I need to hear.”

The queen watched them walk away a few meters with her heart in her mouth and a hand on her chest. She wondered what would happen, Ctimene having completely detonated these thoughts, since she had not fully realized until that moment—where the people who had witnessed the audience looked at her with a mixture of respect, envy, and contempt—that she had become an eventual focus of attention for all those people who were suffering, who were distressed and angry over the loss of their loved ones. And she couldn't help but wonder... what would happen next... and how they would deal with the consequences.

Many times she had doubted what to do when she had to rule a nation, keep the peace, and raise a child all by herself. But very few times had she felt so overwhelmed that her mind went blank for a while.

Because, after all, the question that her mind pushed into her consciousness had no answer for her yet.

Why did she have her husband and all the others didn't? She was happy and rewarded, she couldn't deny that it gave her happiness and a sense that justice existed, but... What about the justice of others who, like her, had been waiting?

She trusted Odysseus to tell her everything, but she was beginning to question herself and grow a little impatient too. But she preferred to keep it to herself, a bad habit from having been alone for so long and having to remain calm so that the suitors wouldn't see her vulnerability.

The siblings argued under the cover of solitude in some of the building's outer areas. Both seemed to have valid points, but it was the king's weary and frustrated words that caused the woman's eyes to widen and her expression to show disbelief.

“Eurylochus is dead, Ctimene! Stop looking for more meaning than that... he's not coming back. I have to go, there are many important things still left to do.”

Before he could walk away and leave, Ctimene trembled a little and, overcome with pain and anger, turned to pull his hair hard. The king let out a growl and grabbed her wrists, closing one eye tightly in pain.

“Ouch! Hey, let go of me! This is stupid, we're not...” He was about to say children, but he froze when he saw his sister's face.

Her features were enraged and tears ran down her cheeks, her frown showing that she was in intense pain, and the king regretted every word he had said in the heat of that argument.

"And whose fault is it that he's dead, huh!? In case you don't remember, oh great King Odysseus of Ithaca, it was you who took six hundred men to fight in the war. It was you who had to bring them back safely!” Her voice grew louder, and now she was also hitting the alpha's chest hard. “You ended the war, and you were supposed to protect them! You're an idiot! A damn coward!"

The next accusations make Odysseus to pale and grit his teeth.

“What are you hiding!? What did you do!? Tell me! I deserve to know! I entrusted my husband to you!” raged the woman, pulling even harder his chiton and screaming, her eyes closed as she yelled in agony, “Tell me! Just tell me already!” Ctimene choked and allowed herself to fall slowly into the floor, sobbing and finding an anchor in the marble tiles, “Please… please tell me… I’m so tired… I need to know…”

The alpha felt a horrible lump in his throat. He didn't want to see his sister like this, but he preferred this to having to deal with the guilt of her knowing and the hatred with which she would look at him every time.

He was a coward, just as she said. But he was also a monster. Funny how he could live with the latter and tolerate the former. It was a survival matter for him. He was home, he could afford not to think about that and instead readjust to his old life.

Ctimene though… she was a hard issue to deal with… Didn’t want to hurt her, but seemed it was the only possible outcome. Oh pains of the world.

“I know you don't understand, and I'm not asking you to... I'm sorry it hurts... I really am... but you're not ready to hear it, and I'm not ready to say it.”

His sister turned to look at him, as he had crouched down to see her better. She sniffed and swallowed hard so she could ask him.

“That's no good, Odysseus... When will you be ready? Are you going to make me wait for something I have a right to know now? Really?”

There was an awkward moment of silence where she stood up and, wiping away her tears, whispered, “You've already gone back home... I'll never be able to do that... Don't you think it's unfair and that you're robbing me of something very important for my peace of mind?”

Her brother blinked twice and then diverted his gaze, the answer making Ctimene to clench her fists in pain and indignation.

“Yes… It is… I’m sorry.”

She shook her head in so much disappointment and rushed away. She didn’t want for her brother to see her cry again. She was so angry at him that the woman didn’t want anything from him right now aside from the truth.

Let’s see who can wait the longest, Ctimene thought. Determination and stubbornness melting together with the anger and pain.

Plans of going home with her father delayed.

Odysseus remained crouched down. He looked at his hands with a contemplative expression. He didn’t falter anymore at the sudden sight of blood in them. There were so many things happening at the same time in him and his life… he wished life could slow down for him to take care of everything, but, the only way he saw to actually try and move on, was to leave everything behind.

About to get lost in the memories when his inner alpha noticed something and growled. The king scanned his surroundings carefully and noticed Antinous in the shadows of a pillar, quiet, not making a single movement and worst thing that actually made Odysseus a little paranoid… his annoying cedarwood primary note was nowhere to smell.

I didn’t even register his presence nearby… how is this possible? Am I lowering my guard? No, that can’t happen. I need to protect them, I need to keep them safe. Penelope, Telemachus… I need to be aware at all times.

Narrowing his eyes, the royal stood up and kept the contact. Antinous tilted his head, finishing his studying and assessment of the situation. The young alpha took a few steps out of the shadows and into the light only to scoff, an arrogant grin painting his features, before he snorted in aversion and walked with his head held high.

Odysseus grunted until he lost sight of him. Really didn’t help his case to notice that wretched youngster seemed to have more abilities than the ones he could tell by mere intuition. It made Odysseus uneasy.

But in the end he had to swallow it and endure it. He could do that for Telemachus.

He could endure everything. He was home.

Chapter Text

Mount Olympus, the godly home of the divines. A place of tales and legends, of unspoken beauty, it rose above the world like a vision carved from eternity itself, just like its inhabitants. The colossal cliffs pierced through the sea of clouds, the faces of the rocks littered with beautiful specks of green, flora growing all around, wild but ethereal and well kept by the deities. Atop the mountain, palatial structures of marble and stone gleam with an otherworldly brilliance, their columns and domes outlined against the bright endless sky, blessed by the breath of the gods themselves.

And of course, there were only more things that added to the legendary Olympus beauty. Waterfalls cascade from tier to tier, running powerful and free, each stream catching the sunlight as the current plunged into crystalline pools that seem suspended in the heavens by the marble and gold deep structures holding all that water, overflowing into even more waterfalls that descend into the mortals’ realm.

Bridges and stairways climbed the mountain’s vast body, binding terraces, temples, and sanctuaries revealed themselves to be a grand labyrinth of divine architecture. There were even two or even three big arenas to entertain the gods with their various games and challenges.

So it was the home of the inmortal, the divine, the gods.

Elegant and confident, stunning beauty marking each of her steps, the Queen of the gods made her way in the corridors of her realm and home.

Hera was taking a break from her duties, enjoying the beauty that surrounded her and the momentary peace of knowing exactly where her husband was. Genuinely, her role as ruler was no easy task, for maintaining divine hierarchy, order among gods, and asserting her authority over Olympus was arduous work in which her husband's countless amorous misadventures were not helpful.

She paused briefly in her walk, sensing nearby the presence of Ares, her son. The goddess twisted her mouth in dissatisfaction, as she had always been conflicted about what her offspring represented.

Deep down, she cared and worried about him, as he was the link between Zeus and her. But on the other hand, Ares was hated by almost every god and goddess, and both kings of Olympus were aware that their indomitable god of war son was the embodiment of a ruthless aspect of their personalities that they didn't want to acknowledge.

No wonder why Athena was Zeus’ favorite daughter and god of war. She was spoiled by him and Hera had to admit, even if they had their moments of tension, both had a nice stepmother-daughter-like bond. Hera didn’t wear the magnificent robes Athena had weaved for her out of pity, she truly loved those, and were a symbol of the closeness and respect they had for each other.

Still, Hera wished, deep in her heart, for her to one day find some clear maternal drive towards Ares. She couldn’t help but feel the weight every time Aphrodite glared at her as if reproaching her for the way she treated her lover. For the lack of love actions from a mother to her son.

Ares is not a horrible son, Hera tried to remind herself as she walked to meet him, a tender smile from memories in her mind.

In fact, everybody including the Queen goddess knew that the god of war considered he had a close relationship with his mother, the proof being at how often he sided with her. Ares was loyal to the bone to Hera, the god knowing he was a regular source of disappointment to his mother, but still ready to aid her and please her.

Ares viewed his mother as a powerful figure and actually raged against Zeus’ affairs with other women. He hated Zeus with passion, so much, that he was part of the reason why alphas were usually so protective and loyal if they found their chosen omega or mate.

He infused this characteristic in the alphas as their patron god not only because of his beloved Aphrodite, wishing to honor one of her creations with such a thing, but because of the great satisfaction and smile that witnessing such powerful bond brought to his mother’s face.

Ares knew he couldn’t make Zeus loyal to Hera, but at least, as the goddess of marital fidelity and lasting unions, he could provide her a little gift for her to ease a little her heart from the wrath and jealousy.

Hera’s steps directed her to the garden-balcony on the highest part of Olympus. A narrower than the others balcony, but a complete paradise to witness, where stone and nature were woven into perfect harmony. The marble terrace stretched boldly over the clouds, the edges right over inner aqueducts that released streams of water that tumbled down into the void below.

At the heart of the terrace, pools of crystal water glistened in the sunlight, their surfaces broken by gentle cascades that flowed from one level to the next. Along their edges, rows of slender cypress trees stood tall and unwavering, green vines echoing the majesty of the stone columns above. Between them, flowers spilled in soft colors, interlacing delicate beauty into the place.

The goddess was fixing her gorgeous deep brown and red hair, ready to meet her son, when she noticed the presence of another goddess as she floated right above and around Ares. Someone she wasn’t really fond of, especially after the Troyan war.

What is Eris doing here?

Cautiously, she approached, taking a look at what was happening and, more importantly, listening. Eris enjoyed floating, because, as she herself said, discord was present in the tensions carried by the air, everywhere and nowhere. That's how she felt enveloped in her element.

Ares gave her his full attention. The subject interested him for many reasons, one name in particular had caught his attention when his companion mentioned it.

“Ah yes, I saw what happened to Poseidon. It was a wonderful display of violence, anger and bloodbath. I was quite impressed with it.”

Eris giggled and shudder in delight, “Oh indeed, I went recently to Poseidon’s domain and he is quite delicate because of this mortal king. And so embarrassed,” added with a sly smile. “But still, as fun as it was to witness this one of a kind event, I must say that my favorite moment involving this Odysseus was the delicious massacre he carried out on the suitors.” The goddess made a twirl in the air, humming and sighing at the idea. “So much glorious chaos is about to unfold, and I’m ecstatic. I can’t wait to see and feel it all.”

Ares tilted his head, which was free from his helmet as the object was being held by one of his forearms, his brown and plum long hair falling over one of his shoulders.

“Huh, I didn’t take you as the kind of goddess who visits others either to directly relish on their pain or to make sure they’re doing fine.”

The goddess of discord chuckled musically, her ebony flowing and gorgeous hair moving with her to the side just as if she had just been swimming in the air.

“Oh darling, not at all. I don’t need to be physically present to relish in the pain of others. And leave warmth and kindness to Hestia, that’s not my core or style.”

Ares knew Eris well, so he waited until she finished her mischief with a bush of the garden, making the plant alive and watching how the blooms proceded to eat and swallow the bees that approached to pollinize the flowers.

“So what were you doing in the realm below the sea?” pried the god of war.

“Well,” Eris hummed, tickling one of the flowers and making it to nuzzle above her finger, “I didn't go to visit Poseidon as such. I would say it was a business trip for someone in the family. After all, all the gods are one big happy family,” she said, slipping the last three words one by one with condescension.

Ares grumbled, aware that Eris was mocking the intricate web of biological and personal relationships between the gods. The goddess sharp and intelligent eyes narrowed making a pout to speak as she pampered the carnivorous flower.

“Odysseus of Ithaca couldn’t possibly expect for everything to be normal and just like he left it twenty years ago after all the things he did. Not even us gods can escape from consequences.”

Listening for a couple more minutes, Hera sensed with her intuition the gravity of the situation that was about to unfold.

Still she left nothing to her imagination as she walked to the garden in the balcony, face not revealing she had been hearing almost their entire conversation all along. She greeted both gods politely. Eris smiled at Hera before playfully bidding them farewell in a flash of smoke, echoes of laughter marking her departure.

Ares allowed a huffed chuckle to leave his lips and shook his head, nodding his head shortly after to acknowledge his mother.

The gods kept many secrets, even between themselves. But at least Hera knew that few were the things her own son wouldn’t tell her about.

Odysseus was getting ready for an event that brought many different emotions swirling in his chest. The union of his only son... his little boy who, well, wasn't so little anymore.

It was a happy day and he knew it. Odysseus wasn't going to ruin it for his boy, but he just wanted a little time to breathe, to think. A moment of quiet to process how his son was being snatched from the warmth of his arms when he had only just gotten him back.

It hurt to see that the love he had for him would now have to be shared when he hadn't even had time to show it properly to Telemachus. To make up for all those nights when the prince wondered about his father's reasons for being away from there, all the time he carried that pain of feeling lonely and forgotten. It caused Odysseus a lot of frustration because he never wanted to leave, he never wanted to leave Penelope and Telemachus alone.

Also, to add to his frustrations, even with the explanations, he didn't understand how those two had gotten together in the end. BUT, the king was aware he was thinking about what he wanted, what he desired. Not what Telemachus wanted, longed for, and desired.

That was why he was getting ready with care, making every single detail impeccable to show his child that he knew how important this day was to him and that he would accompany him because he loved him very much.

Even if he didn't accept it and didn't agree.

The chosen outfit for the occasion was simple but overflowing with rich meaning. The fine linen chiton was soft beige, almost undyed white; while his cloak showed a rich and quite hard to make tone of blue: the gorgeous hue that colored the shores of Ithaca. The final touch of the cloak was embroidered along the edges in golden meanders patterns.

Odysseus nodded and then went to the table in the room, solemnly taking his signet ring from it, turning it and carefully touching with one finger the marks that formed Athena’s symbol when stamping a seal. Couldn’t help to smile at the idea of Telemachus using it often to make documents official in his name. He was also so proud of his Penelope, because of course, she used it as well, long before Telemachus were able to fulfill his duties as a prince.

Speaking of Penelope, he was positioning nicely the golden owl brooch that held his cloak in place, when he turned at the awed gasps and giggles of the maids helping his queen to get ready.

And oh, he could feel the exact second he froze, heat enveloping every single part of himself, particularly his face. She looked so beautiful. Gods, Penelope was all he had ever dreamed of, not even his wildest dreams when he was young could compare to her right now.

Penelope wore a splendid peplos that dignified and enhanced her grace as the Spartan princess and Ithacan queen she was. Dyed in powerful and rare purple with everything else in shiny gold. A light but harmonic with the peplos’ color blue himation draped around her shoulders with elegance.

Penelope looked at him and smiled, dismissing her maids as she took gently the crown of her husband.

“You look so gorgeous, my love,” the alpha whispered, almost as if afraid of breaking a naiad-like spell around the woman.

“Enough flattery my beloved. You look quite magnificent yourself,” hummed the woman, smiling even more at the golden leaves back once more on the head where they belonged. “There, now that is even better.”

The king mirrored the smile, so in love with her. He didn’t care the gray hairs, or the start of wrinkles on her face. She was as gorgeous as ever and he kept admiring her as she took the adjusting of Odysseus’ leather belt as her personal battle.

The alpha leaned into the crook of her neck and breathed in her smell. It was entirely Penelope, her elaborately braided and coiled hair, perfumed with oils that matched her beautifully. Odysseus purred in pure bliss, opening his mouth to nibble slightly at her neck. Not too hard, just enough to satisfy his inner alpha.

After all, his wife had showed him the pearled necklace she intended to use and he didn’t want to leave a mark that would soil her appearance.

All of this brought Odysseus into the memory lane, smiling at their past.

It all began a little earlier than the real moment when he first saw Penelope. It all began… that day… the day a nine year-old Odysseus wondered about his destiny and the weight of the crown.

The great hall of Ithaca held a big council of chiefs, all of them bound by xenia and enjoying their welcome in the small nation. Each guest honored with feasting, gifts, and ritual libations before the talk. Odysseus, even at that young age, knew what the talk referred about: The constant threat of piracy and raids in the Ionian Sea, the important matter of grain and other material imports, marriages between noble houses to seal trust and make the future bright, naval cooperation and tribute.

And the kings of the larger kingdoms such as Sparta, Mycenae, and Pylos, cast their shadows upon them, expecting Ithaca to hold its obligations.

Yeah, he was a very smart kid. He understood what everything weighted and how much it meant for Ithaca to be the hosting land of this moment, of this event.

Cups of wine passed from hand to hand, plenty of different conversations, business and laughter were heard all over the place. It was a good thing, a marvelous sign before the serious talking begun in other matters that involved them all.

Laertes sat in his high-backed chair at the center, Odysseus was next to him but he couldn’t help to glance from time to time with a pretty good concealed worry. The king’s beard, once thick and dark, was now threaded with gray, his eyes shadowed with something the kid couldn't find the words to describe.

He had been providing the words expected of a king, greeting with a strong presence and politeness, discussing the formal talk of trade and sea routes, but Odysseus, nine years old and now seated quietly at his side, could see what the others could not.

The way his father’s hand shook in the chair armrest, he way his gaze drifted too long toward the fire and then snapped out of it, as if he had been longing to discover something new in the dancing of the flames. Odysseus paid attention in his father's stead to not lose the thread once the real talking begun, the powerful men, alphas and omegas seated in their rightful places. The envoys spoke of piracy on the straits, of shipments filled with valuable grain and oil, of daughters and omegan heirs ready to be wedded as tokens of trust.

And to all of this, Laertes’ smile was thin, and when the council broke to argue among themselves, the man bent low to his boy.

“Son,” he whispered, and the boy flinched at the second his sharp mind caught that such voice, was the voice of a man undone. “I am going insane.”

Odysseus stiffened, glancing around to see if any had overheard, but the chamber was a storm of voices. His father’s hand closed around his wrist with desperate strength.

“I am losing my mind.” Laertes kept going, his hazel eyes unfocused on somewhere between the prince’s chest and hand. “My time is ending… I do not have too much left… and it is almost time, son, for you to take my place… to take over my reign.”

Odysseus swallowed, voice steadied by instinct but he couldn’t deny how shocked he still was to hear those words. He was just a kid. “But Father, I’m too young. The council will never allow it.”

Laertes’ eyes shone with something fierce and determined. “You are young, yes. But they already look to you. Pay attention like we have taught you, my son… Look around… They see you listening when others only shout. They see how your tongue turns aside quarrels before they draw blood. They see how the kingdom esteems you, how the people call you clever already.” The king’s eyes creaked slightly at the way he smiled, proud and free from his downfall cloud for a second. “Do not think they are blind. You have solved more than you know, child, though you have not even presented, their eyes are upon you... and for them to not care about your subgender, speaks lengths, my legacy.”

The pup’s heart pounded. He had only ever followed, observed, kept his questions behind his teeth and between his loyal friends. Yet here, amidst so many different scents and smells, while kings discussed and envoys fulfilled their purpose loudly, Odysseus felt the weight of the world set upon his shoulders, suddenly placed there by the trembling hand of his father.

The hand of his father, the one of his mother and grandfather, his entire heritage that flowed deep in his blood was pushing him to the front.

Could he be able to do it? How much time he had left?

Laertes noticed the troubled seriousness of his son and tilted his head slightly, releasing a calming low produce of pheromones. Enough for only his kin to notice.

“Fear not. Your cunningness will make you tough, especially because bravery is not enough, and, let face it son, you could use a little more training,” the king chuckled, ruffling Odysseus’ hair, making the kid to smile and grunt at the same time.

As the hours passed, the boy quickly noticed the change in his father, who once again took on that worn-out appearance, on the verge of collapse. Odysseus could tell his time was getting shorter, his voice was getting weaker, he could barely speak, his father’s mind deteriorating fast.

Worst of all he was smelling less and less his pheromones. The prince stare was on the once mighty alpha king, looking up to him, trying to not let any hint of worry to slip past his features. But he had it clear. If his father remained under the stress of the throne, he would die.

All Odysseus could think right then, as Laertes spoke, trying to prove the other kings that he was still standing in pride was:

Where is he? Where is the man who was larger than life? Where is he? Where is the man who was sharp as a knife?

Odysseus knew that in the darkest days, pain could also be a drive, so he sighed and nodded. Time was fleeting, it was running out.

It would soon be the time to be the man of the house.

Around them, the voices of men rose and tangled, as a dispute had flared, two men had stood, fists clenched at their sides, arguing over whose ships bore the heavier burden in protecting the sea and territories. Voices echoed against the stone walls, each man growing louder, more reckless, and as they were alphas, the scents were clashing and making the other alphas restless with the aura of a challenge.

The few omegas had to cover their noses in nervousness or disgust, fearing an alpha fight would break out. Laertes sat back, weary, eyes closing for the briefest instant. The councilors glanced uneasily at their king but dared not call him weak. Odysseus saw it all, the cracks forming, the meeting threatening to turn from alliance into insult.

He thought he had more time before acting. But well, improvising was also starting to be his thing. And he didn’t dislike it at all.

“My lords,” the boy said, rising to his feet, small hands clasped before him. The two envoys froze, their outrage caught on the clench of their teeth and show off of fangs, as the nine-year-old prince tilted his head in that way that seemed too calm, too calculating for a child. “Surely both your ships are vital. The pirates care little which banner they plunder, they fear only swift retaliation. If Zakynthos guards the western straits, and Pylos the eastern, then together you close the wolf’s jaws before it bites.”

There was a bright blue gleam that hung there, clear and sharp in the prince’s brown eyes.

The envoys blinked, their anger softened into grudging silence. One of the councilors murmured his approval. Even the men seated furthest down the hall leaned in to hear better, wine cups stilled in their hands.

Laertes opened his eyes, staring at his son with something between pride and sorrow. And the son of the man knew that the sorrow was because the king knew the real weight what would eventually and sooner than later, be trusted in the child’s shoulders.

Odysseus, flushed but steady, sat once more beside his father. The voices of the men returned, quieter now, some even nodding as they spoke of such wise and smart intervention with amazement.

Laertes leaned close, his breath warm and heavy against his son’s ear. “You see?” he whispered. “They already listen to you. Even when they don’t admit it because all they can see in appearance is how young you are.”

The boy stared right into the hazel eyes of his father and then, to the golden crown behind his head. For the first time, it did not look so heavy.

Women seemed to have a sixth sense, the pup noticed a few days later in amazement. Because when every guest returned home, Odysseus was helping his exhausted father to get back to his chambers, only to meet his mother and sister waiting for them outside of the room.

Anticlea looked tired rather than worried, but one look at him and the young prince could see the unwavering shine in her eyes. The brightness of a mother who loved her son and the strength of a queen who trusted in the son she had birthed and raised so far.

And he noticed Ctimene was looking at him for far too long. He had no clue why until they were about to separate, Eurycleia approaching to stay with Ctimene in her room while the guards were waiting to escort Odysseus to his chambers. His sister’s small voice made the older pup to turn and look at her with surprise.

“Ody… you different. You the same?”

After a few seconds, the boy smiled to her, “Of course I’m the same, Ctimene. Why would you ask such a thing?”

The little girl leaned her head, something trying to make sense in her head. “You not you… It’s weird but it’s not bad thing… just funny… weird funny.”

Odysseus didn’t know how to answer so he just smiled before turning his back on her, walking in the middle of the two guards. The princess watched him go, her wet-nurse taking gently the little hand to get her inside.

Such was the first real development of the long awaited sprout. However, change is inevitable, and the next one came a few years later.

Once more, everything changed when he met her.

Penelope.

He was thirteen, one year before he was crowned king. Odysseus saw her and his inner alpha was the first and strongest witness of how his heart was instantly arrowed and unable to shake the amaze and love off.

The young alpha noticed her presence while he was on the top of an olive tree of the many that plagued that field he found. That was always good for the juvenile, who liked to climb to eat fresh olives directly from the source.

Odysseus was munching, taking into the view up there in the tree, when he noticed the juvenile woman reading at the shade of a nearby olive tree. The boy had seen many kinds of different exquisiteness in both omegas and women, but at that precise moment, he choked on an olive and had to hit his chest to be able to swallow the half-munched harvest.

The young girl’s beauty was beyond everything he had seen. The prince blessed his will to decide that day to gather some olives for his father and himself. Otherwise he would have never stumbled upon that sight from the gods. He was so mesmerized, looking at the dark brown hair flowing in the delectable fresh breeze, the soft but at the same time smart and sharp features, that he didn’t notice he was leaning to the air from the branch were he was.

Of course, there was nothing else a little further ahead. And Odysseus realized that precise thing when his body lost balance and he yelped, falling into the ground with a loud tud.

The girl was startled for a moment when she saw a young man who had fallen unexpectedly and ended up with his face planted in the dirt. After the intruder lifted his face, covered in dust and soil, to smile at her and greet her effusively, waving his hand, the young woman couldn't help but smile and laugh a little heartily, but not before returning his greeting.

It was her smile and her beautiful glimpse of such a spirited personality that captivated the heir in less than two seconds.

Penelope on her part, was not naïve, dumb, or clueless, quite the contrary. She was one of the princesses of Sparta, not the most important or popular, as her cousin Helen was the main focus of them all—which, by the way, she was very pleased with. She never craved that much of attention, as Penelope found the constant massive attention a little annoying. The juvenile knew her city like the palm of her hand, she knew the intricacies of her royal family and her place in it.

Therefore, of course she noticed the young man who was following her. (And not any young man, the heir of Laertes of Ithaca, a young and promising young alpha, according to Penelope’s father) And, she definitely realized it was not out of obsession or ill intentions. She was observant, a smart tactician, and actually felt quite flattered the boy was following her the same way men and omegas followed Helen, because it proved he had been struck by something in her.

But well, it was not yet her time for love. Especially as long as Helen were still unwedded. Everybody would flock to her as it was natural for the most beautiful mortal woman in the world. And it was fine, even liberating for Helen's cousin.

Penelope hated the idea of having stupid men fighting like savages after every step she gave. Such a nuisance and horror, honestly.

Those next days of their stay in Sparta. Odysseus followed at a respectful distance the lovely princess he had fell in love with. The juvenile was beyond delighted once he realized she had noticed his presence following her, so he had to upgrade his game again and again until she finally couldn’t see him following her.

They were playing in their own way, proving who was the smartest. Unfortunately, Laertes and Odysseus were there to attend some fast treaty business with Sparta. Penelope and Odysseus were not able to be properly introduced back those days.

But boy, how hard did Odysseus fell for the princess. He took his time to know her family tree, therefore the young alpha knew her name, and he smiled every time he whispered it back home.

Penelope was the first one he felt an affinity for. She was the cleverest girl he’d ever seen and heard, articulate, serene, and with the cleverness of his dreams. And her looks just made it even better, she was so beautiful, it elevated everything else. Those gorgeous blue gems he managed to see a few times, shone even brigther than the stars in the sky.

So, the first thing Odysseus did after returning to Ithaca? Well, he couldn’t seem to get over this girl, so he asked for help from the one he trusted the most.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the goddess of wisdom grumbled, sighing and pressing her index and thumb into the nose bridge as she closed her eyes.

Her pupil had been distracted throughout their intense training session. When she asked him what on earth he was thinking about, Odysseus turned to her with such a stupid smile that she knew immediately what was going on and sighed in exasperation.

Odysseus, the most promising Warrior of the mind she had in her list…was hopelessly in love. And judging by the gleam in the juvenile’s eyes, there was no remedy or salvation for him.

He was lost to the realm of Aphrodite. The goddess considered for a moment leaving and coming back until the young alpha dismissed those stupid ideas that were turning into distractions. She was about to transform and take her leave when her eyes opened, the bright ginger hair swaying at the strong hug from the prince as he looked up to see her, blinking as a plead for her to listen to him.

Athena’s eyes under her helmet twitched in annoyance and spine-chilling feeling, so she quickly took the juvenile’s shoulders with her hands to put some distance between them, Odysseus talking and not caring about that.

“Athena, please! You have to help me meet the girl of my dreams! I’ve seen her already and she is wonderful!”

“Do not tell,” the goddess muttered, half trying to show some sort of support and half hoping he would drop the subject.

“Yes! I need her to be mine! Oh Athena, you should’ve seen her!”

Athena’s eyes were narrowing every ten seconds of Odysseus yapping and yapping like a maiden about how wonderful, beautiful, and smart this so called Penelope was. Although, her interest began to peak once the heir mentioned her family tree.

“Everybody wants Helen of Sparta, but Penelope is part of her family tree and she is so much intriguing and fascinating than Helen. I’m so lucky men don’t really look to her way because of Helen, but I must not delay! I need to ask for her hand as soon as possible!”

“More like win her hand,” Athena corrected, making her student to blink and pay finally full attention to her words... for a few seconds at least. “She is descendant of prince Icarius of Sparta and the naiad Periboea… and you know what that means, right?”

“That she’s divine in beauty and mind?”

There were a few moments of silence before Athena sighed, rolling her eyes before summoning her spear and hitting Odysseus with the weapon, making the young alpha lost in Penelope’s smile to whine in pain.

“Her father has power over a land that breeds warriors from the cradle and measures worth in gold, horses, and conquest. And you…” She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing, noticing so much work still in front of the short for his age alpha boy. “You come from a rocky island that grows more goats than grain. You hold cleverness, yes, but cleverness itself feeds no army and fills no treasury.”

Odysseus frowned only to square his shoulders and lift his chin, sure and determined. “I will soon be king, and I need to marry a faithful woman. And I believe she is perfect.”

“Icarius will not part with a daughter like Penelope for a simple marriage pact. He will seek a man who can offer Sparta something in return. He may demand something to prove your worth before the gods. And even then,” she added, her tone harsh again, “you cannot win her with power, we both know you don’t have what it takes to beat your rivals yet. Your only aid, will the the strenght of the mind.”

Odysseus’ eyes shone with resolve. “Then tell me what to do.”

Athena tilted her head, finally smiling back into the game with full force. After all, Penelope was indeed a remarkable woman, both physically and mentally. She wouldn’t deny that such a thing was quite fortunate if she left aside the human feelings. Penelope of Sparta was a match made practically for Odysseus.

“First, stop behaving like a poet. Then, listen carefully, because if you wish to win Penelope, you must prove what you’re made of. Prove the heat of the fire inside of you that refuses to die. You will not be the strongest of kings, Odysseus, but perhaps you can be the cleverest one to exist in your time and beyond.”

She paused, watching him process her words, but his brown eyes never leaving her own almost black gaze. Odysseus smiled dangerously, that characteristic smirk when he was scheming something and felt no shame for the entire world to see and fear the outcome of his brain plotting. He stanced back into battle position and growled in challenge.

“Then we have work to do. I need to be ready, let’s go Athena, I need to be prepared!”

The goddess raised an eyebrow as she smiled, delighted with such fighting spirit blazing inside the juvenile. As a goddess of war, she had to admit to herself that there was something in the drive to fight. She didn’t allow for it to consume her unlike Ares, but there was something nice to it.

Nodding to that, she prepared to instruct her pupil into victory. She needed to shape him for the challenge that would allow him to get Penelope and the blessing from her father. After all, such an intelligent partner would help her in her mission to be recognized.

Although she wasn't excited about the love part, she could tell that Odysseus time as a prince, was near to the end. His opportunity would soon come, when a new title would be placed upon his head for his people to see, and the watchful gaze and protection of the powerful goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athena, would spread throughout the kingdom of Ithaca.

Odysseus wasn’t blind, he could see it, both him and his inner alpha perceived de boiling of different emotions all around coming from his people as Penelope and him walked in direction to the temple dedicated to the divine patrons of omegas and alphas: a sacred place where unions between them happen.

After all, it would be a huge disrespect for an official bonding ceremony if Aphrodite, Demeter and Ares were uninvited to witness the tying of something as important as two lives and souls of their work.

Still, the king knew the nature of those looks and tried to walk regal and with pride, not looking at the sides to find what he already knew was there: people in the last days of mourning for losing their loved ones, tired, sad, angry even. And with all their right in the world.

The happiness of his son was the only thing helping the alpha king to not look into their eyes and fall into a spiral of sadness and guilt himself. This was a bright day, a filled with blessings moment in the royal family life. Luckily, a lot of people also saw it that way, and even over their pain, they were celebrating with them.

A few minutes after the royal couple passed by, people began to whisper and admire the prince as he made his way to the temple, escorted by guards as a sign of his title and rank.

Perhaps his father had already given his blessing (reluctantly) and handed him over to the alpha who would become his mate that day. But at least the head of the guard wanted to show how much it meant to them to know that they were taking care of the royal family and that they too had seen the young man grow up in his father's absence. All the guards were the oldest and most loyal the royal family had. All of them had seen at least Telemachus' childhood or juvenile years.

Telemachus on his part was excited, and it showed. The children looked at him with curiosity and people watching him were smiling thanks to the happy pheromones he was leaving all behind.

“It seems yesterday Queen Penelope was protecting him, not letting the child out of her sight to avoid tragedies.”

“I told you he would be handsome, have you seen his parents?”

“You think he’ll be having pups soon after? The king and queen are not getting any younger.”

“The gods were kind to that bloodline. Have you seen how he carries himself? Like Odysseus in his youth. I was there to witness it.”

There were even some omegas and young girls talking excited about the event, and the festivities that would follow in Ithaca to celebrate as they watched the prince walking to his destiny.

“Would you look at that! Such beautiful clothes!”

“I know! The family’s matron goddess is Athena. Maybe those were spun by herself!”

“Imagine wearing something like that when it’s your turn to mate.”

 “Ha! If I had robes like that, I’d never take them off.”

The omega was dressed in an elegant, flowing ensemble in the form of a loose, white, toga-like garment made of soft, draping fabric more likely silk and linen. The clothes revealed Telemachus’ shoulders and a main part of his chest, however the arms were still covered in flowy sleeves. The outfit was beautifully accented and decorated with elaborate golden accessories and the way they sparkled and reflected the light was just adding layers of beauty to his appearance. A wide, ornate golden belt with floral design cinched his waist giving shape to the flowing fabric and adjusting his figure just right.

Some of the little barely-getting-out-of-juvenile-years alphas were drinking in his figure, a few mumbling their thoughts out loud between them.

“Tonight I’ll dance near him during the paian. Maybe he’ll notice me.”

“Don’t be stupid! He’ll be pouring libations with the elders,” one alpha girl replied, though her tone betrayed a hint of envy. “But I will throw my garland toward him during the dance. They say if your wreath lands close to the freshly mated pair, you’ll find your match before the year ends!”

“The feasts will last till dawn, and who knows,” another alpha boy added, smile excited and hopeful, “maybe we can find someone especial in the middle of the celebrations.”

“Oh, please. You’re all dreaming. Still, I’d give anything just to see the first dance in front row. Rumors say that when a true bond is formed, the gods make the stars to shine even brighter if pleased.”

The prince was unaware of most of all the murmurs as he kept walking. Nothing could slow down his racing heart. His family would be there, and finally, finally, the moment he had been waiting for had arrived. He didn't know if he was nervous or overly excited, but the tingling in his chest made him smile every time he felt it.

Telemachus knew that Athena would be there as well and he felt a little contemplative that alphas only had one patron god, but well, the prince already asked his friend about it earlier that day and still wasn’t sure if in the end she regreted her choice or not. After all it was no mystery for the omegan prince that Athena wished to be recognized in her own title and name.

“Back then, when patronage gods stepped ahead to claim the subgenders and bless them with traits, Ares, in a strange and peculiar outburst of generosity, offered to share with me the patronage of the alphas. He said it would be only fair that the gods of war blessed the alphas with strength and intelligence, since the omegas would have two goddesses protecting them and providing them might and incredible fertility.”

He looked at her, fingers tracing the owl pendant from his father. Athena was looking through the window.

"In those days, I had to weight the pros and cons of being the matron goddess of alphas and everything that such a thing involved. I realized that Ares' shadow would leave me at the sides just like Aphrodite unintentionally did to Demeter, and also, I would be mainly searched for to bless unions or to look over the alphas when a prayer reached me."

There was a moment of what the prince took as reflection before Athena finished her thoughts.

"Now my perspective has changed... not entirely but I see things that I hadn't seen and considered before. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad... we will never know."

She turned her head to sigh and smile at Telemachus, who was waiting for the servants his mother would send to help him get into the omegan attire destined for him.

“I will see you later, little wolf. This moment is for you… and your chosen one.”

The prince barely contained a chuckle at Athena’s slight contempt for Antinous. At least they could work together or interact when needed. It really helped Telemachus taught Antinous how to make proper offerings to Athena.

The royal smiled even brighter at the memory, feeling heat in every fiber of his body. Blue eyes looking at the sky, breathing in the air to always remember this moment.

His world was all about to change.

Odysseus was watching Ctimene in the midst of those present while they waited for the mates to be. She looked so sad and pale, the king’s instincts flared and his heart ached, wanting to go near her and try to lift her spirits.

He missed her. Thought about her during his twenty years of abscense, not as much as he brought Penelope back to him, but she was his little sister, he thought of her every single time he was homesick and his mother and father flashed in his dreams.

Ctimene was being polite with the important guests, but it was obvious how a bubble of avoidance was being created around her. She carried a blue and heavy aura around her and the alpha knew better than to go and intrude her in such a state.

He knew right now, it was a bad idea. Especially since he wasn’t planning on telling her what she wanted to hear. Odysseus grunted and looked away. The best way to protect her was to stay far away for some time.

Or so he repeated to himself, trying hard to believe it. Which, by the way, was actually succeeding in doing.

Human emotions are a powerful thing for good and bad decisions. Which ones are priced too high and which others can actually be paid with no bigger issues?

Who knows? The problem is, we need to choose between them in the shadows. There is no way around.

Odysseus heard Penelope squeal with excitement and turned to be dazzled by the sight of his son. He looked beautiful, a perfect blend of him and his beautiful wife.

As they talked and interacted a little before the big moment, Odysseus couldn't help but recall many moments from when Telemachus was little: him telling everyone what his son was doing, never tiring of it, even making Polites laugh and causing Eurylochus to shout at him in exasperation that they had literally seen the little boy in person just a few hours ago.

Ctimene always took advantage of every moment she could during her visits to steal Telemachus away, and his parents spent all their time with the baby when Penelope and he went to visit them at their home in the country.

I just want him by my side, he is the brightest light and the sweetest treat. Telemachus was so little back then, Odysseus kept hearing his son with a smile before saying something to him and hugging him hard

However, his attention had snapped again into place when Telemachus pushed himself away once he tightened the hug with raw longing and paternal ache.

“Sorry, you shouldn’t hug me that hard,” said the omega raising his hands and nervously smiling.

“Oh… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’re not fond of that type of hugs.”

Odysseus was a little bit hurt, he was only proving how much he regretted not having been able to hug Telemachus more throughout his life. However, the gentle laughter from his boy confused him even more.

“No, you’ve got it wrong, I love those hugs, especially from you or mom. But, right now, I can’t take them.”

“Huh? Why not?”

He couldn’t understand, not even when Telemachus looked briefly at his mother with a soft smile. The king could sense that long developed inner communication mother-son and felt a little jealous at Penelope when she gasped in understanding.

Such a thing had Odysseus feeling dumb and very confused, and he didn’t like it. Particularly because none was explaining the meaning to him.

He only saw how excited Penelope was, and the nodding in Telemachus’ head, confirming something to her.

… In retrospective, Odysseus later on would palmface more than once, because, for the smartest man in Ithaca, how could he be so stupid and blind?... the meaning was obvious, but well… he would always excuse himself behind his lack of normality back then.

In the moment, the thing that crossed his mind was so disheartening to him, even if he was trying hard to hide it.

I know… it’s hard but, one day he’ll have to go and leave me behind… maybe not right now, but soon, far sooner than what I would prefer… How can I say goodbye when he is just so wonderful and I don’t even know how much?

The moment didn’t last long enough for Odysseus, as Antinous soon arrived, and he couldn’t help feeling as if he had swallowed bitter wine when he saw the reaction that the young alpha caused in his son. Penelope took him to their place to watch the whole bonding event and tried to calm him down a little by lovingly caressing the arm she was fond of.

The temple of union was specially dedicated to the triad of gods, so Antinous and Telemachus bowed low to the statue representing their patron gods, Demeter and Aphrodite stood to the left and right, holding in their marble hands chests with beautiful details engraved in the stone symbolizing love and fertility, while Ares stood between them, holding his spear in his left hand and the chest with symbols of strength and dominion in his right one.

They began after a little bit of teasing to each other. Taking in and accepting each other scent, then nibbling the other's ears and rubbing noses only to finish with the most important step of them all.

The mating bite.

Odysseus gulped hard, biting his bottom lip as he witnessed them searching for the ideal place to place their respective marks. A ton of questions flooded his mind in a matter of seconds.

Was he really going to allow that? What if he was wrong? What if Antinous was dangerous and would make his son suffer?

Antinous opened his mouth, positioning his teeth…

What if it was all a deception? How could he be sure that things wouldn't go back to the way they were before?

His fangs penetrated the skin, making Telemachus to almost let out a moan at the feeling…

What if it was a ploy to get into the royal family? It could be possible! Antinous was full of surprises, and according to Penelope, he was a stategist.

Telemachus searched for the right spot on Antinous' scent gland and opened his mouth…

Worse still, what if he wanted to take over Telemachus and Penelope and would try to kill him quietly to achieve his goal? Odysseus bristled and opened his mouth to say something when he stopped, witnessing he was too late anyway.

Antinous almost allowed a moan to escape as well, grunting instead without dislodging his teeth from the omega’s flesh. Telemachus closing his eyes and evidently drinking the gland content at his delighted scent overflowing.

No matter the subgender, everyone felt the environment shift around them. For betas, it was a hard goosebump all over their bodies. For alphas and omegas, it was the way their scents diminished dramatically and the way they intermingled, creating something new entirely.

A soul bond.

Odysseus sighed, eyes glued in how their mouths opened, putting enough distance as they licked their own lips from the other scent gland’s produce, eyes bright and enraptured before kissing and purring in unison.

What's done is done. There's no turning back.

The rest of the mating ritual was less intimidating for the old king and quite special for Penelope to see, the woman feeling her chest full and relieving memories filled with sun and happiness with her husband.

Antinous knelt before Ares in respect, then he bowed until his bitten scent gland was completely exposed. An offering of humility before his patron god. Then, with both hands, he poured oil from a small flask into a bronze bowl, letting it trickle in steady rhythm.

“Lord Ares, grant me the strength to protect and cherish what has been entrusted to me… not as a conqueror, but as a guardian,” murmured.

Then he took some of the blood oozing from his mating bite wound and with two fingers, he dipped them in the oil and marked a thin streak of the oily blood along his jawline. A silent oath as an alpha towards his mate.

It was then Telemachus turn when the former suitor stood up, walking to get in front of his two matron goddesses, also bowing until his scent gland were in plain sight.

In Demeter’s side, he placed a garland made out of olive leaves and many flowers bright and colorful, not before being able to infuse his scent on the flower petals.

“Lady Demeter,” he whispered, “teach me to nurture what I hold. May my union bloom with fertility in my heart and my body.”

Then before Aphrodite, he unfastened a thin white band from his wrist, which he had worn since the betrothal rites, and placed it gently over his mating bite wound.

“Lady Aphrodite,” he breathed as the blood stained the fabric, “let love guide my steps, prove to everyone my heart is sincere.”

Then he placed the band with the specks of blood in the respective place in front of Aphrodite. Both waited a moment before searching instinctively for the other’s hand, fingers joining in the empty spaces between the knuckles.

That was the breaking point for Ctimene.

She had been quiet, watching and trying to feel happy for her beloved nephew, but she couldn't concentrate, not when the memories of her wedding to Eurylochus were cruelly fresh in her mind.

Managed to hold on until that moment, but as soon as the alpha and the prince turned to look at each other, the woman felt her eyes fill with tears, finding the looks of joy and love they were giving each other too much to bear.

Only a couple of people looked at her as she ran out of the temple to cry inconsolably on the steps, or rather, against one of the walls where there was no crowd waiting to see the united couple.

Imagine her surprise when she found another woman there, lifting her head from between her knees on the floor to look at her in surprise, as she was also crying. Both looked away, a little uncomfortable at the interruption of their feelings, but after a few seconds, the woman wiped her tears and turned to look at her again.

“Are you coming from inside the temple?” When the beta nodded, she smiled with more tears welling up in her eyes and asked the question that broke Ctimene again, “Who was it? Brother, father, son, or husband?”

Ctimene broke again, her hazel eyes filling with tears, she allowed her body to fall next to the stranger in the floor, sobbing hard. "My husband... how did you know?" whimpered in pain.

The woman smiled with the tear stained face. "Only someone who has lived happiness and lost it completely is able to actually cry by seeing others reach their own happiness..."

After a moment, Ctimene managed to whisper, only to make a question.

“Did you… lose someone important too?”

The woman beside her was black haired, clear skin, a few scars, medium frame and the most important thing: her hands were calloused from training.

“Yes.”

“Who was it?”

“… My mate to be…”

A few moments of silence.

“Alpha?”

“Yes. Well, at least I am. He was an omega... Sweet in private and arrogant with everyone else. Responsible but quite chaotic in the way he acted…”

Ctimene somehow didn’t feel so shattered now, so she kept chasing for this grief understanding they seemed to have in common.

“Why are you here?”

“I was in the temple… couldn’t handle so much… you know… I just needed air.”

“I see. But I meant… why are you here… you’re an alpha… even if female… the king took all strong men and alphas to war.”

The woman chuckled, turning to see her and showing her striking cinnamon eyes. She was so pretty, sharp factions that contrasted with the sweet voice.

“You are so smart and observant.” Looking to the blue sky, the female followed a bird with the sight. “We were supposed to go to war together… He was a man, but I succeeded in making everyone believe he was pregnant because of his subgender, therefore, he was dismissed… but I was careless, we loved each other so much…” the woman let out a humorless smile, “I was supposed to sail with the men and other alphas of Ithaca, but… he drugged the wine… When I woke, the ships were gone… and now…” tears burst out, scent exploding and sobs choking behind her hands covering her mouth, “And now he’s gone! The king said so! He’s gone! He will never come back! We will never mate… and I can’t even mourn him because I have nothing from him!”

In that moment, it didn’t matter they were strangers. They were united for a fleeting moment by something stonger than bonds of friendship: the striking tinges of grief and loss.

Ctimene hugged her in the same way she wished someone would’ve hold her when she felt the weight of the news of Eurylochus death. And the woman cried hard, grasping the beta’s chiton and wailing in so much pain.

“How can I move on? We had a pre-mating bite… a symbol of our promise to mate, to bond… the bruise and teeth marks are gone… why? I have nothing…”

Ctimene’s tears were streaming anew, her own pain being reflected through another’s. Silence fell. The only sound was the steady sounds of happiness and celebration at the entrance of the temple. For a long while, neither spoke. They simply breathed, their grief mingling in a comforting blue veil.

The female alpha’s lips curved faintly, her eyes glistening as see looked at her. “Thank you… I really needed that. The name’s Chloe, by the way.”

The beta sniffed before replying, “Ctimene, nice to meet you.”

They talked a little bit more, their conversation leading to their respective mates’ names as well. Maybe they wished so because of the pain, but they didn’t want to forget them. Not when they meant so much to each of their hearts.

Ctimene tilted her head and smiled, “Eurylochus was his name. Stubborn, cold with many except with me. And he was such a terrible dancer,” she chuckled with the last part.

“Mine was Phaedra,” Chloe replied, letting an airy huff of a laughter. “Let the wind carry both their names tonight and mourn them in our stead. The celebrations keep going and I suppose the presence of the King’s sister is important in the royal union of said King’s son, isn’t it?”

The beta raised an eyebrow and smiled with taunt. “You’re quite observant yourself, huh?”

Chloe tapped her own nose three times and stood up from the floor, tending a hand to the royal, “Well, let’s just say you have a muted scent that it’s practically a copy of King Odysseus’ one. Also, it’s quite hard to find too many beta women named Ctimene and looking just like our monarch in the same little island.”

Ctimene snickered as she reached for the hand, the first one after almost fourty days since Odysseus came home without his crew.

“I guess you do have good arguments there. You’ll be in the celebrations as well, then?”

The alpha nodded, tilting her head with sorrow but also with a brightness of courage. “Life does not wait, your highness. We survive eventually or we don’t.”

The beta thought about her mother and gulped. She now could understand Anticlea and it was scary how broken a heart without help could get before thinking the next life could be a pain reliver for grief and distress.

Ctimene sighed, trying to focus in the happiness of the day. Chloe was right, life didn’t wait. And she had to be strong if she would rip the truth out of her brother’s mouth and chest.

Chapter Text

Ctimene and Eurylochus were... well, their relationship was complicated. At ten years old, the girl could already say she had a rival, an arch-enemy. She could say the same about Polites, but had anyone even tried to hate that juvenile? It was impossible. Ctimene herself felt extremely guilty every time she felt jealous that Odysseus spent so much time with his best friend.

Well, his free time. After their father stepped down and her brother was crowned with pride King of Ithaca at the age of fourteen, things changed. The people was amazed by the young juvenile and quick enough they trusted him to bring them to prosperity and safety. So Ctimene now close of presenting, was even more possessive with the time shared with her Odysseus.

Unlike Polites to her, Eurylochus was another story, and obviously, Ctimene poured all her spite on him. She didn't hate him, not at all, but he was so unbearable! He was the trusted close friend of the king, but he was not his best friend. And that, made all the difference in the world.

Ctimene couldn’t really blame Odysseus, both friends were vastly different. Where Polites was kind, brave, bright and warm; Eurylochus was serious, quick to analyze and sometimes flee, usually extremely serious and even if trustworthy, such seriousness brought him a cold appearance. Ctimene shuddered at the thought of the juvenile smiling at her. Had never happened, but she could only imagine, and no, no no no, the horror.

The young nobleman from the near island of Same had installed with his family in Ithaca from quite some time, being one year older than Odysseus and knowing him since the king was three years old, so in terms of chronology, he had more right to be spending time with Odysseus. But of course, Ctimene was the king’s SISTER. So she won in importance by title.

Still, since Eurylochus presented, he turned even taller, stronger and, in Ctimene’s point of view, a real pain in the ass. He was so closed off, so cold, so infuriating! He was always remarking how she was a princess, hinting she shouldn’t be anywhere near them while they played or practiced to become skill in battle.

And that pissed her off so, so much. She was really wishing to be a female alpha, begging the god Ares to comply to her prayers so she could teach him a lesson.

The two of them spent their time arguing in a usually passive-aggressive way, to such an extent that both Polites and Odysseus could only feel the bead of sweat running down their temples and wonder what they would do if Ctimene turned out to be a female alpha.

They honestly weren't sure about her; given her temper and personality, she could really be any subgender.

This moment in their shared past was special because even if they had argued a lot to this point, it was not declared they had the title of rivals between them. However, the things changed on that precise day of summer.

Eurylochus was arms crossed and walking in circles, waiting irritated for his friends to come back. They were supposed to train that day but both forgot their training and real weapons behind so they left to get them.

Leaving the princess behind to wait for them with him.

We won’t take too long, Eurylochus mimicked inside with mockery, finally sitting in the grass and soon shifting uncomfortable at the silence and deliberate efforts of Ctimene to ignore him. You won’t die for spending five minutes with her… well it’s been like fifteen, what the heck are they doing?

Ctimene liked the silence, but this one right here was so evidently tense, that she couldn’t help to feel something inside her hissing and turning around uneasy. She hoped it was what people called inner self, in her case, she prayed it was her inner alpha awakening little by little day after day.

They were sitting on the grass near a training ground the boys had designated near the palace. The thread snapped violently between them, causing a twitch under one eye as Ctimene opened them thanks to the words whispered by the juvenile alpha.

“I can believe I’m stuck with you.”

She turned and smiled, making Eurylochus to flinch as she was so similar to Odysseus when he was angry but didn’t want to show it.

Creepy.

“What do you mean, Eurylochus?”

The sweetness on her voice was a façade and the boy knew it perfectly. He cleared his throat and explained himself.

 “You don’t hunt, fight or wrestle, women have different roles than men, and princesses even more, so I think you shouldn’t be here, what for?”

“Oh, so in the case of female alphas and male omegas what would their designated roles be, huh?”

Eurylochus opened his mouth but closed it fast. Shit, he couldn’t let a ten-year-old to win, especially if this girl had misunderstood what he meant.

“That’s different.”

Ctimene shrugged and moved her shoulder as if she was making herself comfortable “Fancy way to say you have no smart reply.”

Her hazel eyes looked at the sky with a smug smile. If alphas were supposed to be all like that outside her family, then compared to Ody and her father, alphas were pretty brute and stupid.

Eurylochus was staring with a twitch under his left eye, mouth opened and grimacing with all sort of emotions inside.

This pup is non-stop, she IS Ody’s sister… fuck this is not my idea of fun.

The juvenile scoffed and crossed his arms. “Fine, I will admit you got me there. I have no answer as female alphas and male omegas roles are intertwined because of their sexes and subgenders. However, why do you assume you’re the smartest here?”

“Oh I don’t assume it,” she interrupted, looking at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I am. Until my brother comes back, I rule the mind kingdom.”

The dark skinned teen chuckled and shook his head, “Soon that attitude will be your doom, princess. What will you do when instead of mind someone beats you in body instead? That’s my point from earlier. You’re weak, and that’s a statement.”

Ctimene wanted to bark he should worry about talking better for people to understand him, but she remembered her brother, mother and father, so she thought for a moment and then smiled again.

“Well I am a princess, so maybe I won’t be throwing rocks at the enemy, but I certainly can throw verbal rocks at the mediocrities I hear upon my way. Such thing at least will gain allies to my cause and safety.”

The girl thought it was over, but then again, Eurylochus could easily tell Ctimene was similar to Odysseus, yes, but with time and a few interactions lately, he discovered she was still easily provoked and arrogant. Now that, was interesting.

You see, Eurylochus found Ctimene caused on him both irritation and the fire of challenge, the last one being realized right in that moment. She was an intriguing pup and even if most of the times he found her annoying, little by little she was making the juvenile curious about her personality and drive to mess with him.

Maybe having such a young rival could be funny, maybe that was why Odysseus liked to argue with her, having discussions and debates about everything and anything at the same time.

Eurylochus didn’t have any sisters or brothers so, let’s say this was a little experiment of his.

“Interesting… but anyway… you’ll never be able to surpass me, princess.”

He was not part of the legendary cunning of his friend’s family, but he was smart enough to bag Ctimene in his experiment of teasing and poking.

“Oh yeah?” She had taken the bait. Indeed, she was smart but her impulse was even stronger than Odysseus, “Let’s see, anything you could do I can do better.”

“Ha! You must be kidding.”

“I can do anything better than you!”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I can.”

Eurylochus smiled, wondering who would win in the end, annoying child or trained juvenile? “No you can’t.”

Ctimene pouted before standing up and placing her hands on her waist, “Yes I can!”

“Please, kid. I’m older than you. Anything you can be I can be greater, sooner or later I’ll be greater than you.”

“No you’re not…” grumbled the girl.

“Yes I am,” pushed the young alpha.

“No you’re not… and I’ll prove right now! You will become my rival!” Ctimene pointed him out with her finger, determination all over her.

“Yes I am. But fine, I’ll take you as my rival, princess. May our rivalry begin.”

Odysseus arrived with Polites, both carrying their weapons, and blinked at Ctimene fighting with Eurylochus, both sassing each other out and doing things totally out of their context as newcomers.

“I can live on bread and cheese only,” the alpha stated in pride.

“And only on that?”

“You bet.”

“So can a rat,” the girl shot with a wolfish smile.

“What is this?” Odysseus asked Polites.

“Meanwhile, I can open any safe,” Ctimene said, flipping her hair.

“Huh, without being caught?”

“Indeed!”

“Who would say the princess is such a thieve.”

Ctimene’s choke of surprise was enough for Polites to giggle and get closer to the young king’s ear. “I think they are finally bonding without killing stares.”

“Anything you can weave, I can weave finer. My stitches are straighter, my hands are steadier too.”

“The irony! A boy who barely a few minutes ago was speaking about social roles, boasting weaving skill? Gods, what’s next?”

“I told you I didn’t mean that!”

“Until you learn how to speak correctly, I’ll take what I understood.”

“As long as they don’t take it too far…” sighed Odysseus, rolling his eyes but smiling nevertheless.

At least now it was clear for everyone they were rivals.

“I can climb the olive tree faster than Hermes’ wind!”

“Then fall twice as fast, and cry twice as loud.”

And they were letting years of repressed tension of rivals flowing free from them. Experienced people could tell this could only end in a few different ways.

And one of those paths, was the one their relationship took. One that, at this moment of rivalry, neither of them were expecting.

The palace of Ithaca had never shone so brightly. By dusk, every torch in the great hall was lit, and the glow spilled through the open doors into the courtyard just like the voices and laughter, garlands of olive and laurel hanging from the columns.

Musicians tuned their lyres and flutes, their notes weaving through the air like laughter before the feast had even begun. The tables were set in long rows, the servants moving swiftly between the couches where guests reclined and talked in high spirits.

Antinous and Telemachus sat side by side at the high table, their hands were not touching because of the crowd, but every so often they would exchange some gestures of affection. The prince would occasionally kiss him on the cheek or gently bite the arm or shoulder, while the nobleman would smile at him before kissing Telemachus on the top of his head or directly on the lips.

Every time their eyes caught with each other, a smile bloomed in both. It was the dreamy smile of someone living a wish long chased for. For them, happiness was a tangible thing, it was right there, right now. In their alive hearts and existence.

Telemachus glanced down paralyzed and worrying his mate, only to close his eyes and look at Antinous calm once more.

“What was that?”

“I thought I felt something… you know… there. False alarm, normal stomach things.”

The alpha froze and his eyes went straight into the omega’s abdomen without a care. The royal snorted and chuckled, flicking his fingers on his forehead and causing the alpha to grunt with a flinch at the action.

“You are so stupid, way to make things obvious,” murmured still amused.

"Well, if we're talking about stupidity..." the other replied, ready to tease and make his little wolf to bristle.

Odysseus was right at the next corner of the table, focused on striking up conversations with the nobles around him when he felt Penelope gently touch his shoulder.

“It's time for a word, my love.”

“Ah, of course,” he smiled diplomatically and stood, regaining the attention of the whole room. He raised his cup to the room, the wine shaking at the motion. "I raise my prayer to our prince, my beloved son, for the days to come to be filled with happiness and light.”

He took a moment before looking at Antinous and smile in a very forced way. Antinous reciprocated the smile in the same way, a tiny curve out of politeness even though his eyes narrowed to express his aversion.

“And even though the now prince consort arrived to steal my son away, I hold no ill will towards him… for now.” The guests laughed, taking it as a playful comment from a protective alpha parent. Telemachus and Penelope did as well but both were aware Odysseus was quite real at that part, it was no joke. The king sighed and raised his voice. “To the gods, who have blessed this union!” he declared, the whole place answering with cheers.

Penelope stood as well, and Odysseus smiled radiantly at her.

“I wish to say a few words as well. May the gods always be kind to you two, to your union and the hope that you provide to all of Ithaca as the signs or a new era. An era of peace, of prosperity, and a bright future.”

Cheers erupted once more and even harder as both bonded young men nuzzled together, letting their scents loose in agreement to the Queen’s words, well received from both this time.

The feast began and the food there was delightful, simply delicious for all the senses. Lamb roasted, the skin crisp and golden; honey-glazed figs piled high right next to loaves of fresh and warm bread quite ready to be dipped in bowls of oil infused with crushed garlic and herbs. The fish was grilled with salt and slices of lemon, and all around were platters with goat cheese in every presentation possible.

Of course olives were a must, and the fruit was abundant almost falling from the platters. The servants poured wine diluted with cool water, and the guests agreed it was sweet and heavy, just what it was to be expected from wine pressed from Ithaca’s own vineyards.

After some time, the rhythm of music set the pace for the dancers to rise from their seats and join the flowing tunes. Many young men and women had already taken to dancing, twirling in circles, hands joined, their movements showing their enjoyment of the moment.

However, plenty still lingered near their tables or gathered in small groups, their talk as animated as the music itself, which was getting even more lively and faster for the dancers. Every corner of the room was alive and even the servants found themselves smiling as they passed by, caught up in the joy of it all.

It was as if, in the midst of all the happiness, sorrows melted away to leave hearts alone and in peace only if for a moment. Right when Antinous and Telemachus finished dancing their first piece, the sound filled every space, wrapping around the talk and laughter until it became impossible to tell where the music ended and the joy began.

The guests were from all of Greece, after all, both Penelope and Odysseus had plenty of friends and acquaintances to prove their influence and reach despite being monarchs of a small nation.

King Nestor was deep in discussion with Odysseus, their voices low and thoughtful, though King Menelaus was laughing heartily at something Odysseus had said, one arm thrown around his friend’s shoulder in camaraderie. Across the room, Queen Penelope stood among a circle of women, her smile gentle as she chatted with Ctimene, Queen Eurydice, and Queen Helen, along with several of the visiting queens.

Laertes' children looked younger, free for a moment from the different but terrible burdens they carried respectively, letting the party, the golden lights, and the laughter sweetly carry them away to a beautiful and bright place where both were smiling in their respective conversations.

Elsewhere, the younger royals had gathered in their own clusters. Antinous was surrounded by the noblemen of his pack, all the survivors invited, their voices loud and teasing, cups raised high as they shared old stories and inside jokes. Across the hall, Telemachus sat cross-legged on a low couch, laughing so hard his shoulders shook, and to no surprise really, Peisistratus was the closest thing like a friend Telemachus had nowadays and he had just told some mischief from their younger days, and even Amphinomus, an honored guest from both Antinous and Telemachus, couldn’t stop smiling.

Telemachus was so glad and happy to see the weight of past troubles gone from Amphinomus’ eyes.

Going back home had been so good for the young man’s soul.

But the young alpha from Dulichium was not the only addition to Telemachus’ group there. Princess Nausicaa was a sweet woman, her musical laughter fitting perfectly with their group alongside her personality, making the omega and alpha laugh as she teased Peisistratus with easy grace. Her parents, King Alcinous and Queen Arete, had been seated near the royals of Ithaca as special guests of Odysseus, watching with quiet fondness as their daughter blended into the youthful circle of Ithaca’s court.

Athena was walking among the people, but no one could see or touch her.

“Hello, dawling! I'm glad you came to join us.”

The voice addressed to her made the goddess close her eyes and growl discontentedly.

“Hermes, you should be focusing on the party now that you've crashed it. Don't you think they'll think you're crazy if they see you talking to thin air?”

The messenger god, disguised as a brown-haired, curly-haired man with freckles, burst out laughing with a high-pitched giggle, causing his half-sister to cross her arms and raise an eyebrow behind her battle helmet.

“Oh Athena, relax, I'm still a god, I can make anyone stop paying attention to me if I want to. Tell me, don't you think it's time for our dear mutual friend to have some quality personal fun?”

The goddess of wisdom didn't understand a thing until Hermes' mischievous smile explained everything.

Oh. Oh.

“Hermes, wait!”

“It's time for consummation, and for us, it's time to continue celebrating the warm feeling of this young couple in love!” the aforementioned exclaimed excitedly at the top of his lungs.

Athena turned to look at Telemachus reaction and saw him getting quite red and trying to smile a little to hide his nervousness.

What is he nervous for? Haven't they been copulating like Ares and Aphrodite for the last few years? What has changed?

If the prince could hear what Athena was wondering, he would cover his face in utter shame while his alpha mate would laugh his lungs out most likely.

The thing was not focused on the intercourse itself, unlike the goddess believed, but on the fact the entire palace now would be entirely aware they’d be doing just that. After years of keeping their relationship a secret, it’s hard to entirely change something even after some time.

Antinous was confused at first as the identity of the one who had given beginning to the final part of the celebration, but he had little time to think about it as he was pushed by the members of his former pack, all making jokes and teasing that made the flush to creep up his neck.

“Come on Antinous! Ithaca needs new heirs!”

“Time to fulfill marital duties, alpha!”

“Time to shoot more than targets at practice!”

“Remember! Gentleness is key, you brute!”

Telemachus felt a shiver when Peisistratus leaned on him, smiling with leer and raising his voice.

“Well, time to get that omegan nature working, Tele. Good luck!” whished as he pushed him to make the prince to stand up.

“Peisis!”

“See you in the morning, prince,” Nausicaa said with a giggle.

It was a funny moment, but Antinous’ inner alpha opened its eyes and growled at the action of their pregnant omega being pushed around. Not only didn’t like such thing, he had to stop it, what if they harmed his baby? The black haired noble smiled teasingly to his comrades and rushed to the prince’s side to avoid any more pushing and the risk that came with the guests not knowing Telemachus’ condition.

Luckily, Amphinomus was protecting Telemachus now, laughing gently as well but preventing for the other young guests to push the prince violently to get him walking towards his private chambers.

Something both young royals would feel enormously grateful for.

Antinous arrived just in time when the hands touching and pushing while directing them through the halls were too many to be stopped. Telemachus sighed and looked up to meet his mate’s eyes, whispering with mouth gestures a thanks while the cheers, laughter and leers followed the guests.

The alpha nodded and they walked rapidly surrounded by the joyful sounds until they arrived to their chambers. They waited for a few moments until the crowd made way to an old priestess of Hera carrying a small bowl of wine and honey.

Perhaps the patron gods of the alphas and omegas had the place of honor at those celebrations, but the goddess of marriage and family could not be left out of the big day. That is why not only were symbols of her present throughout the celebration, but it was also essential that a priest or priestess of Hera bless the union after the offerings to the patron gods and also before consummation. 

The woman poured the libation onto the floor in front of the door, murmuring the words of blessing.

“May your union be steadfast as stone, your hearts as constant as the sea,” she intoned. “May this night bring peace to Ithaca, and to your souls everlasting joy.” She turned and nodded, signaling the mates to enter and proceed with the final act of the day.

The private celebration.

The boys were pushed one final time and the doors were closed, the people outside laughing, singing and chanting before leaving them alone and back at the party.

They both turned to look at each other, smiling in complicity. Antinous approached first, purring as Telemachus walked away, smile on his face and half-lidded eyes while purring challengingly as well.

Beginning would be no problem at all.

Beyond the castle walls, the celebration had spilled into the streets. The people of Ithaca had been waiting for this day, the day of their young prince’s union, a symbol of peace and renewal after years of uncertainty. The nearest square outside the palace blazed with torches, and the scent of roasting meat filled the air. Children ran through the crowds waving ribbons of color, and old fishermen, already deep in their cups, sang sea-songs that turned into hymns halfway through.

Through the open doors, the remaining people in the hall could hear the townspeople singing. Odysseus turned, catching a glimpse of the torches flickering in the distance, his people, his home and he sighed once, finally feeling a bit more relaxed.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Penelope asked, gently taking the king's arm.

“Yes, or at least it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The queen blinked and understood when she heard the young men and women returning from delivering the newlymates into their room, the face of her husband furrowing.

“He’ll be fine, you need to trust his judgement, Odysseus.”

The man grumbled in worry and then winced when another presence was placed right next to him.

“Really old friend, you shouldn’t worry that much about your boy,” Menelaus said, gleaming content as his alpha placed elegantly next to him. “Don’t remember how we used to be back in the days?”

Odysseus chuckled and covered his eyes. “Oh please, don’t even mention it… Gods…”

Penelope chuckled and leaned to look directly at Helen. “Oh, I remember quite well your first impression of these two, don’t you, dear cousin?”

The golden blond queen smiled composed and nodded. “Indeed, I must say it was quite an interesting approach from both Odysseus and Menelaus. Unconventional but effective.”

“Well, it had to be nice to have so many guys fighting for your hand and attention,” the Ithacan queen said with a smile.

“I will admit it had its advantages. With so many candidates, the best would prove himself eventually.”

“Well, most of them were savages,” Penelope chuckled and flicked her hand remembering, “they were beating each other senselessly at one point.”

“Jealous, Penelope? I mean, the one with the stress to find a mate was me back then,” the Spartan queen giggled and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh please, not at all, silly. Those men wanted power so they could tower and place above the others. Back then it was just not my time to love…”

Both queens had an interesting story. Raised in Sparta, they were known by their ascendant blood. One daughter of a water nymph, the other daughter of a god. Helen and Penelope loved each other and cared for the other’s well being… however, they were not what one would call close.

They were close friends as children, laughing, playing and visiting each other frequently, however, as they grew, things shifted between them for they grew from pups to women, and thus, brought differences in absolutely every aspect of their selves and lives. Unspoken rivalry made way to tension, both things wrapped under the care for each other they still held in their hearts.

Since they were young, Helen was portrayed as beautiful beyond measure, an object of desire and perfection. Divine heritage that always overshadowed anyone near her. Penelope didn’t particularly mind such things, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel forgotten or even disdained as soon as Helen appeared at her side. The beta knew she was beautiful, but how could she compare to the fairest of them all? When men directed to her, it was always to try and get information or make themselves closer to Helen, it was never for herself or her value.

That’s why she nurtured her brain, her cunning, her way to shine in a different way than her cousin. And such thing delivered the man she loved: Odysseus. So she was proud and happy of such a thing.

On Helen’s part, she felt pride on her beauty, but she couldn’t help to feel mortified and humiliated every time Penelope proved to be smarter than her. And it was not a thing of unfounded jealousy, the alpha knew it wasn’t with ill intention, but Penelope seemed to find the worst timing to prove she was skilled in strategy and mental battles. Worst timing in the sense that, when Helen spoke, making a true effort to solve a situation or participate in something, then Penelope entered the equation, dismissing her idea or opinion with something even better, which, she agreed, was for the best, but Helen felt uncomfortable as she was viewed many of those times as only a pretty face and not someone who also knew how to think or get out of troubles herself.

Again they loved each other as family, but the tension was there and not easy to erase after years and years of living under the same circumstances. And the fact of living so far from each other didn’t help the relationship to grow once more into what it used to be in the childhood.

“And yet,” Odysseus begun, holding Penelope’s shoulder with a dramatic air, “we found our way to your hearts.” Menelaus purred in agreement as he placed his left arm around Helen, the woman smiling and letting out her ambary scent around them.

“What are you talking about?” Ctimene asked, curious about the reunion and getting closer with other invited royals.

The smile on her face erased from her brother’s memory the issue they had pending. Ctimene just looked so herself again. It felt like time had returned everyone as it should be, at least in the king’s memories.

“We were remembering the day Helen, Menelaus, Penelope and I got together,” the king explained as the other guests listened to Menelaus story about it.

“I imagine it was quite a thing to witness,” Ctimene raised an eyebrow as she chuckled and crossed her arms. “Between the deep stupidity that kept you floating in the air for Penelope, and King Menelaus obsession to get Queen Helen to choose him, oh my, I can’t begin to imagine.”

Both brothers laughed and hummed in amusement, hearing the omegan king of Sparta talking about the event.

“I had heard the stories and songs, but, gods! They didn’t come close to the truth! My dear mate’s beauty and way of being was just everything I had ever wished for and more! I couldn’t rely on my prime omega status. I needed to make sure she would choose me.”

Helen smile and blush was endearing. Menelaus somehow made her feel as if she were not only the most beautiful, but the most special woman in the world. Because, for real? A prime omega, thinking his subgend is not enough to make someone choose him? The rarity? The immense influence? And still… for her beloved omega, he was not enough to make it certain she would choose him.

After Troy, she didn’t dare see Aphrodite the same way, but… Dear Aphrodite! She loved him, she loved the man so much. She was so lucky to have him.

She would go again to war for him, even if she lived and saw things at war… that she would rather to never had witnessed. With that thought, she glanced at Odysseus smiling while her husband kept telling the tale. She knew Odysseus did things at war for the sake of victory and coming home soon.

And yet, there were a few things that she couldn’t seem to forget easily. And Odysseus was involved in one in particular.

Helen clenched her fist slightly, covering it with the fabric of her rich and soft red robe. She was still waiting for an apology from his part... she didn't intend to mention anything but she was getting slightly unnerved to see him act as if nothing had happened during war.

The queen glanced now to her cousin’s direction, watching her blue eyes looking at the king of Ithaca with unblemished love.

I wonder… how much does she actually know about him? The female alpha wondered. It had been twenty years and after all, he was no longer the same man. Just like neither Penelope or her were no longer the same woman.

Ironic, the youths were advantaging their elders, as Helen remembered how Telemachus was far more aware of who he had chosen to mate than now his own parents.

Oh yes, because Helen of Sparta here and now knew some things about Telemachus and Antinous. After all, Penelope and her did have plenty of time to catch up in this bonding event. The story was intriguing and fascinating to her, and hopefully, she would hear more about it from the new mates’ mouths.

But it was, indeed, a fine irony in the end. Telemachus, the prince of Ithaca; was more grounded in his love life than his own progenitors, the legendary Odysseus and Penelope. Such an interesting thing for Aphrodite, most likely.

“… and so, Odysseus plan worked. And here we are now, celebrating the union of one of our children,” the red-haired said with high spirits.

They all agreed and began adding comments and questions to the story. Odysseus nodded and completely ignored Helen’s side eye directed to him. Of course the male alpha knew why the Sparta queen was giving him such a look, but he wouldn’t dwell about it.

Hermione.

It was in the past! It was useless to think or blame details that didn’t have another way around…

“Indeed darling, one of our children is happily united with his chosen one at the first try…” Helen said with a smile and the second she opened her mouth, Ctimene noticed how her brother even if smiling, had shifted his aura entirely. “Not exactly thanks to Odysseus but oh well… that wouldn’t be the first time…”

“Please Helen,” the brown-eyed alpha chuckled nervously, “I know we’ve had our differences before at war but…”

“I know Odysseus, and I’m not trying to make you pay for it,” Helen’s green eyes lost her glow for a second, making Ctimene to shudder and feel slightly intimidated just like her inner beta, “If such a thing was my intention… then I would use my right to request one of Telemachus’ future pups to take as my heir.”

Such a thing froze the entire group. Penelope showed anger and concern in her face, Menelaus sighed and looked away uncomfortable and Odysseus opened his eyes as he frowned. Alpha scents were rising, slowly but in warning. Cinnamon and amber clashing slightly.

“What in Hestia’s and Hera’s names are you saying, Helen? Explain yourself!” Penelope demanded.

She would not take that lightly. How could her cousin say such a thing? She would dare to take one of her grandchildren, one of her beloved Telemachus’ future babies to Sparta, separating them from their family?

Of course she knew, but did she had any idea how shattered would Telemachus be if she did that? How could she even imply such a thing! Under what alleged right!?

The queen didn’t let her brown-haired cousin to intimidate her, and just raised her head higher. “Really Penelope? So smart and you can’t figure it out yourself?

Penelope clenched her teeth slightly. She rarely lost composure, but her cousin was always one of the few who could get easily under her nerves. Had always been like that, even since children.

“Hermione is married to Orestes now… And she gave you an heir… Queen Helen, please, do not disturb our peace of mind with such statement,” Odysseus asked, watching nervously and irritated how the environment was shifting.

“Maybe so, but she had it hard and suffered in a loveless marriage first. Maybe your intentions were not meant to hurt my daughter, Odysseus… but I don’t like you pretending that nothing happened… not when I trusted your vision on both war and how did things work, thinking it was far better than mine…”

Menelaus was watching everything, reading the room with accuracy. His inner prime was drinking in everyone’s feelings and inner selves’ attitudes. The alphas were restless, reacting to the alpha crashing pheromones… the betas were quite intimidated, not knowing what to do… except for two people…

Penelope was angry, distressed, and her inner beta was scared. For it could tell this issue related with Odysseus would bring her distress and conflict and she didn’t want it.

Ctimene was shocked, her inner beta one of the sharpest ones Menelaus had ever sensed. She was just as magnificent as Odysseus, all in her own way. Ctimene’s inner beta was weaving everything, a succession of emotions following: surprise, anger, sadness, and horror, everything pieced together.

However, when Odysseus answered Helen, Menelaus shivered at the way Ctimene’s inner beta reacted.

“I did what I think would get us all back home soon, Helen! You’re right, I never intended to hurt Hermione, but I will always do whatever it takes to return to my family, to Penelope. It was necessary, and even if I feel bad about it, you know it cannot be undone.”

“I know Odysseus. Like I said, I’m not stirring the waters to extract revenge. I just wanted to make justice, and you putting it all behind you without a second thought, was not fair or nice.”

The prime sensed the anxiety washing all over Ctimene like a sea and reacted accordingly.

“All right, enough, both of you,” everyone shuddered at the tone of voice used. The alphas entered a much more relaxed state, the betas stopped feeling uncomfortable and afraid, and the atmosphere seemed bright and beautiful again with the scent of green fig and neroli brightening into warm amber and cedar, a fragrance both fresh and velvety, soothing yet regal. “This issue is important to be addressed, but it’s not the time or the moment to do so. Odysseus, I understand you did what you thought was needed in the heat of battle and desperate situation as the Troyan war was… but that is no excuse to hide from your actions taken in the midst of it… please my friend, do not dishonor the hero and tale.”

The Ithacan king looked down and at the floor with remorse. It wasn’t just the Hermione thing… his friend’s words were a direct hit in everything he was fighting within himself. And still… he couldn’t do it… He just was not ready yet…

Menelaus then turned to his mate, “And you, Helen. I understand your indignation, my love. But this was more revengeful than what you claim… the things you said can make room for rumors and misunderstandings. You can’t let your impulses to break free like this, especially in a moment where we are sharing the love and happiness of a freshly mated young couple. You were out of place and I hope you understand that. We have an image to take care of.”

The Spartan queen looked aside frowning up with slight regret. She didn’t mean to tarnish the moment; she was just so… irritated… her omega was so right, she allowed herself to be impulsive.

The prime was about to turn towards Ctimene and ask if she was okay but he couldn’t catch her before she apologized, saying she had drunk too much and walking slowly out, then running away from there, because she needed air.

Air. Space. Help. Answers. Anything!    

As she ran, she remembered everything Odysseus was capable of when he set his mind to something... and also the deep love he had for Penelope.

All of this gave her a hunch about the answer: her brother had traded her husband for something in order to return home. He said so himself, he would do whatever it took to come back home.

But what? What had he done!? WHAT!?

She stumbled over the stones, which grew larger the further she ran from the castle, and scraped her arms, sobbing and feeling something horrible inside her. Ctimene hugged herself and felt everything spinning around. She didn't want it to hurt anymore, she wanted to know, she wanted to rest, she wanted to heal.

But could she even do that? What if there was no cure? What if the only solution was to go find Eurylochus where he had gone?

The woman turned pale when she realized where her thoughts were going to and screamed in fear, crying even harder and calling for her mother and husband, begging for help under the starlight.

She wanted to heal… but if it was possible… where could she start? How could she even begin a journey to healing if she had no map, no route, no clues?

It was a whole odyssey and in her heart, she knew it.

Chapter Text

In the meantime, not suspecting the drama unfolding back with the kings and queens, the newlymates had already started their official consummation. However, as the next generation was already secured inside the prince, Telemachus was smiling mischievously with one eye closed as his alpha kissed and sucked the soft skin of his neck.

He had a plan.

Telemachus might be many things. But one thing that was truly part of him, even though he sometimes denied it, was the need to retaliate and take revenge. The omega had literally squeaked in the biggest shame he had ever felt in his life, covering his red face and moaning directly in bed when Antinous finally spilled the tea about his drugged actions that Sonata night. The night that took them all the way to where they were now.

Of course, the alpha laughed hard as he found it extremely hilarious in retrospect.

“It’s not funny Antinous! How can you laugh at such a degrading and humiliating thing?”

Telemachus was red, entirely, growling and throwing himself at his suitor to try and choke him.

Yeah, old habits die hard.

Antinous was already wheezing and holding the omega by the wrists, trying hard to blink the tears of laughter away from his eyes.

“It’s your fault! I warned you about it but your curious ass wanted to know!”

“Of course I wanted to know, you fucking asshole! You always got beating red at the mention of it and you avoided the topic like the plague!” The prince sizzled, changing the neck for the shoulders and shaking the alpha as he now smiled with tease.

This happened after one of their training sessions in the forest, back in the years they were already nurturing their relationship as lovers, and probably half a year before Odysseus coming home. Both had returned to their shared chambers after taking a bath and well, the conversation escalated as Telemachus breached the subject.

“And? What do you think now? Want me to be good to you?”

Telemachus flinched and clenched his teeth, his face heating. The fucking idiot was saying again what he said under the haze of the drugs.

“Shut it!”

“Oh, but you like it when I breed you good as well…” The prince started smacking the laughing alpha, not caring about hurting him.

“Shut, shut, shut! So fucking embarrassing!”

“Huh… but there was something else… what was it?”

“NOOO! I do not want to hear it!”

“Oh but you asked.”

“You filthy dog! Forget I said anything and just shut your mouth!”

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks for mentioning the dog part, almost forgot.”

“Oh gods, please no… Antinous…”

The alpha jumped to snatch and carry the omega on his shoulder, the royal hitting his back and trying hard to let go.

“Release me! I’m really not in the mood for games, I’ll punch you the second you…” didn’t have time to finish as Antinous dropped him unceremoniously on bed, his dark chestnut hair framing his embarrassed features.

“Hmmm… maybe you’re not in the mood right now… but I think you said back then you wanted to have a lot of little wolves for real… how peculiar…” Antinous smiled suggestively and delighting in the nervousness on Telemachus, “Think it was a premonition, your highness?”

And just like it was a key factor for Antinous to lose control back then, this time, such a thing mixed with the next words the suitor said made the prince to forget all decorum.

“I like the idea… you, filled up with my litter and hating to rely on me to get things and do chores because our wolf pups won’t…” he got closer, taking pins and fabric down to lick at the chest and clavicles, “let you…” Telemachus could feel the embarrassment melting away to give way into that delicious warm heat in all of his body, “do them yourself.”

The inner omega could actually see it. The body swelled with life inside, the feeling, the experience, the pheromones the alpha would release, the sheer satisfaction of fulfilling its nature. Because maybe it wasn’t an imperative necessity, but doing such an important thing? Such a fundamental mission?

The alpha licked his lips and looked at the blue eyes full blown pupil. The omega grunted and looked away, not without taking his hands and roughly placing them in his interested body part down there.

“I hate you… I hate how you do it… Now you better make it worth it. Or I’ll make you suffer.”

Antinous chuckled and kissed him before going south with a simple phrase.

“Your wishes, are my command.”

Yeah, in retrospect it wasn’t a bad memory. But Telemachus felt he needed to be compensated for the shame. And if he was going to coax the alpha young man with his charm and pheromones to take some of the drug he had gotten his hands on so the royal could see Antinous desperate for him and begging for whatever he wanted to give him. Well, that was Telemachus’ business.

In between the kisses, Telemachus was ready. He knew Antinous had told him that tonight, he would do exactly as he commanded, but that was not enough for him. Wanted to feel the pure power of having him eating from his palm. And also, why not, to feel how did Antinous perceived him that night when they kidnapped both to take them into Troy.

Because for him to lose control so fast when they were still enemies… Well fuck, he wouldn’t humiliate himself to see that, but he wanted to see it.

The royal sighed and closed his eyes before speaking with the sweetest and most seductive voice he had inside. Tinted with a little something he had been practicing for his alpha only.

“Antinous…”

The noble froze, a chill running through his spine along with a pleasurable sensation. He tilted up his head to look at the other man smiling lovingly at him with a malicious gleam on his sapphire eyes.

Omega voice.

“My love… you almost didn’t drink at the feast… aren’t you thirsty? I have a cup with wine prepared just for you.”

With the will to comply, the practice of the voice, and the strength of a fresh soul bound, the alpha was totally enraptured by the omegan pull. Telemachus’ tone was like a siren song to the nobleman. Antinous smiled and caressed his cheek.

He was not brainwashed, but he could feel how his thinking was not as awake and clever as always. The black-eyed felt drunk already. Such a curious thing. With someone else, he would jump to get rid of whatever this sort of seduction spell this was, but as they were talking about Telemachus, he allowed it to keep unfolding.

“Are you worried about me just because I didn’t drink as much as I use to?”

“Mhhh, yes, you know I’m always taking care of you. It’s not in character for you.”

Antinous smiled and allowed the royal to fetch the goblet already prepared there in the nightstand. Telemachus took it and smiled. He had gotten something pretty similar to what he believed was used to drug them back then.

He handed it to his alpha and watched maliciously as the dark-skinned man drank every last drop, the larynx bobbing as he swallowed and tasted the liquid. Telemachus had made sure it was the oldest and best quality wine he had hidden in his father's reserves. One of the few that had survived the twenty-year wait.

Antinous licked his lips and threw the goblet behind him, purring and retaking his mission. Telemachus used his ingenious to make sure they had enough time for the drug to take effect, and he knew it was time when his mate stopped working on getting him aroused and began to pant, feeling even warmer at the touch.

The noble licked the prince with urgency, then bit him right where his neck met his collarbone, making Telemachus to gasp and tense under the touch in bliss.

“Good boy,” the royal purred, enchanted with such needy reactions.

The prince bit his bottom lip when Antinous panted and whined at the same time. He kind of got why the man turned so red every time he had tried to get out of him what he had done when they kidnapped them.

He intended to fully enjoy this. The hands reached for under one of the pillows, a strap of leather along with a chain a pair of shackles to use. The royal smiled when the alpha half-lidded eyes stared at the objects with curiosity.

“You know?... Athena used to say you were a filthy dog… and well, maybe not filthy anymore,” Telemachus grabbed his head and kissed him, leaving the noble chasing for the contact, “but you will always be a good dog for me, won’t you?”

Antinous opened his eyes in shock when the prince pulled something and suddenly his body went forward. He had been collared, the thin chain on the omega’s right hand and on the other, the shackles were waiting to be used. The alpha snorted and laughed before rolling his eyes and raising the hands.

“You are a little perverted whore, little wolf. Fine, do whatever you want, surprise me.”

…

“Alright, when I said surprise me, I wasn’t expecting that…”

He immediately shut up when the royal grabbed his hair and pulled slightly to make sure he was looking at him. The hand was not hurting him, on the contrary, it was the right amount of dominance intermingled with care and desire, this last part thanks to Telemachus kissing him or touching him every time he listened to the instruction.

This time however, it was a punishment.

“Watch it. I didn’t give you a command yet.”

The training like a dog wasn’t really on Antinous’ list. But he kind of like it, especially if Telemachus kept acting all dominant like that. He never liked feeling small or vulnerable, but here it was different, the domination was not meant to humiliate him, it was meant to pleasure both.

Kneeling on the floor, completely naked, his hands behind his back and shackled, unable to do anything but obey. And obviously, since his mouth hadn't been occupied for a good twenty-three minutes, since Telemachus commanded his mate to use it to take care of him, well Antinous had to open it to allow his teasing attitude to sprout free.

“Oh, did the little wolf get his teeth?” asked with taunt before letting out a shaky breath. The smile all-knowing at noticing his mate’s member reaction to those words.

The omega smiled teasingly and pulled hard the chain, making him to grunt and almost fall to the ground.

“Love, one question… Did I even give you the bark command?”

Antinous was already going mad. He needed more of Telemachus, the spoiled royal had been bringing his resolve and body to the edge too many times already only to leave him hanging in the edge.

He was close to consider begging, and of course, he blamed the drug he know recognized in his body and fucking Telemachus for it.

“No… but please, I need you,” asked, the closest he would go to begging. His tone betraying desperation and need.

The royal mused about it, pretending to think hard about the idea. So far, he had gotten Antinous to do the basics: sit, speak, stay still and well he would be merciful and count that last one as beg. But he was aiming for one last thing.

“I’ll tell you something,” whispered, crouching down to the kneeling alpha and getting close to the ear, “Show me how much this good boy wants to have me, and I’ll give you a treat.”

The black eyes opened wide even with the daze and the wolfish smile grew even bigger.

“Careful, even the best trained mutt can still bite if provoked,” warned before whining with excitement at the omega’s growl.

“Not without my command,” he waited until his mate looked at him with pleading eyes, starting to move to get some friction for little it was. Only then, the prince smiled and stood still, breathing in before letting out the last command of the night.

“Come, let me set you free. And then drive me into you, alpha.”

Antinous and his inner alpha reacted in the same way: eager and excited to comply. Two different reasons nevertheless, the first one knew that they would be joining finally as mates to the world, and the second one could detect the pheromones of their omega calling them.

Especially the ones of the inner omega. The wild and instinctual side of the magnificent creature they were bonded with.

Standing up, Antinous walked until he was face to face with Telemachus, closing his eyes and waiting for the other to take off his restraints. The prince did so, in a torturously slow manner, but when he finally removed the collar from the young man's neck and his eyes opened, the omega knew he was in a forbidden moment from the past.

The past when human kind relied on instinct to survive.

He let out a ragged sigh as the alpha released his scent in waves. Nothing may have covered their bodies, but there was nothing more seductive at that moment than what their senses could perceive.

Telemachus’ sense of smell could tell how much Antinous desired him, loved him, even revered him. As his mate, as the chosen omega of his pack.

The alpha stood as close as he could and made short call, soft and husky. Asking Telemachus with it if he was allowed to smell him, if he could claim his scent. The omega whined in agreement and allowed the hands to roam all over his skin, wrists impregnating inch after inch with the cedar wood primary note.

The sense of touch was savoring the somehow calloused but warm finger pads lingering everywhere, the sense of Antinous lips kissing, the nip of his teeth on the scent gland, on the shoulders, even at the encounter of mouths.

And oh, how he melted when the man’s hands rested on his abdomen, hand resting there and thumb making circles over it. The fruit of this same act it was on the way of transpire.

A determined growl from the nobleman was enough to convince the omega to open his mouth fully, the man taking the chance to smash their lips, tongues and breaths together.

The sense of taste was so hypnotizing, each other’s mouths were feasting on the contrary and the ears were capturing every moment. The clear skin in contact with the darker one, the soft clicking of their mouths and their wet kisses with growing passion and desire, the air coming in and out while they made out.

And their vision won the crown when they opened their eyes and witnessed the mess they had created at the same time. Bright and more than convinced blue gems; deep and needy black orbs just waiting for the verdict.

“Present for me… and then…” the prince had to recover air before finishing his sentence, “I’ll present for you to remind me the blessing of our little one.”

There was a moment of confusion at the first part, but in the middle of it all, Antinous smiled arrogantly, willing to try everything tonight for his light.

Aphrodite was watching through one of her mirrors and she blinked in surprise at witnessing the passionate consummation those two were having. Quite out of the things she was used to.

I mean, it’s not unheard of male omegas taking the active role in this moments… but usually alphas don’t like to consider such things. This is a pleasant surprise.

Raising an eyebrow, she couldn’t help to smile at the expression of both astonishment and pleasure from the young alpha at experiencing the release of his mate within. Probably had to do with the drug enhancing the experience, and well, the goddess giggled at the enthusiasm the alpha placed when it was finally his turn.

Her fingers touched the surface of the mirror and brought the event forward to her enjoyment.

“He has trained his alpha very well, within reason,” declared, smiling at the way the older young man was controlling to bring pleasure to his mate but not sinking entirely in the insides, and the way the younger man was moaning hard, closing his eyes and grunting before throwing the head back at the peak of their moment. His mate smiling and kissing the curve of his neck before pulling out and placing next to the royal’s body to lose consciousness because of the drug and quietly fade into sleep.

Aphrodite sighed, retreating her fingers and nodding pleased.

“Well… at least that’s settled… One thing less Odysseus ruined…”

She wouldn’t think about other things, at least not now. Athena had kept her word, the little mortal omega was happy with his chosen one.

That would have to be enough.

The night since the new couple had retired to consummate their union had not been the best for the king.

After that stressful moment with Queen Helen, Odysseus could see in slow motion the change in his sister's face. He realized that his own face had morphed at the same time. And such thing was not a good indicator.

Both with the same expression but a different tint on it.

“Please no… tell me it’s not true…”

Odysseus face revealed for an instant fear of being discovered…

“…tell me you didn’t figure it out.”

While Ctimene’s features proved how horrified she felt at the images of a hundred different ways to interpret such a thing.

“…tell me you didn’t do it.”

He tried to catch her after she excused herself but she fled the second King Menelaus directed his attention to her. And after that, he couldn’t find her nearby. And of course he couldn’t leave the party just like that, what would the others say?

So, we care more about politics than our own family, huh?

Odysseus spent the rest of the party pretending everything was fine, laughing, nodding and drinking with the others, but the monster didn’t leave him alone.

You said Ctimene she would never be alone, funny how you lie even to your dear own sister, coward.

He began sweating at some point, unable to turn off that damn voice echoing through his mind, bones and nerves.

What will you say to Penelope? Think she will forgive you after she gets to know you practically gifted the daughter of her cousin away? Ohhh, the cat’s out of the bag… Odysseus…

The alpha gulped and felt his heart accelerating when he turned to see his wife and noticed how she was also smiling and talking, but just like him, she was tense.

In the end, when everything was over and they tucked into their olive tree bed to get some sleep, the silence even if uncomfortable, was the best thing for both right there.

Odysseus was so nervous trying to prepare himself to tell his mate about such detail Queen Helen had mentioned. And Penelope, she was anxious about how many things would her husband eventually tell her and how many things could she help carry so that her husband would not be crushed to death, but also so that they wouldn’t cause her grieving weight either.

Both needed to sleep and face such things next day.

Of course, Odysseus replaced that urgent issue with the necessity of making sure his pup… his adult son, was alright after his bonding night.

So now, as it was next morning, Odysseus was standing right outside of his son’s door. But, the king had a strained grimace. He had met face to face with Antinous when he knocked the door, he managed to see Telemachus in bed and making sure he was okay, but the simple chat he had with his…no, he wouldn’t say it… this young man, had left his mouth quite bitter and his stomach not in the mood for breakfast.

It didn’t help that when he was about to leave, he heard something, quite soft, so he convinced himself he didn’t hear correctly, because if he had, then he would get right next to Penelope not looking for comfort, but straight into a pouting with nostalgia state.

“Quit antagonizing my father, for Zeus’ sake. He’s already dealing with too much for you to come and place those thoughts on him.”

“Didn’t lie though,” there was a small pause before the final blow, “I really hope, they look like you.”

Yes, nope. No, no, no. He was hearing things. The alpha rushed through the halls to meet their guests, trying hard to not let the feeling overtake him.

Of course, the Moirai weren't going to let him have a normal morning. Of course not.

The first person he ran into just around the corner before reaching the palace dining room was his sister. She clearly hadn't slept well. Her hazel eyes stared at him, the dark circles under her eyes making her look of contempt all the more evident.

“Odysseus,” she greeted him with zero emotion.

“Good morning, Ctimene,” the man replied, still trying to remain polite.

The beta bared her teeth in an attempt to growl, which startled the king because his sister hadn't tried to do that since she was a child. Betas couldn't growl as such, but it was a gesture Ctimene had adopted from living with an alpha father and brother.

“Don't give me any of that bullshit, especially if you're going to stick to your damn intentions of not telling me a word about what happened to my husband.”

The brown-haired man frowned, “Excuse me? You might be my sister, but I won’t tolerate this sort of disrespect in my house.”

The mocking and tired fake laughter made Odysseus to twist his mouth, his sister tilting her head in irritation. “Oh right! Right! Please forgiiive me, oh mighty legend…” she bowed and caused a warning growl on her brother’s throat. “Our own personal hero, Odysseus of Ithaca… the only survivor of a twenty year trip to fucking Troy, which by the way, it’s a dumb and bloody trip of TWO FUCKING WEEKS AT MOST!”

Ctimene never used strong words like those, but since they were siblings, the king was more than annoyed and pointed at her with his index finger as he raised his voice.

“Don't talk to me in that tone! You have no idea what I had to go through and live through to be complaining to me. You stayed here, without having to survive day by day, watching your friends and comrades die and still making an effort to bring them all back even though they betrayed you more than once!”

Ctimene started crying, her clenched teeth and hardened fists, ready to strike but refraining at the harsh voice being used on her. Odysseus began gesticulating with every word, using those hand gestures to release tension and the flashbacks assaulting his mind.

“How about if you go into war and we see if you manage to come back with your whole crew!? You think I must carry all the blame!? You must think I don’t suffer because of what happened!”

“That’s not what I said,” the woman sobbed, shaking her head and raising her angered voice as well, “Don’t put words in my mouth, Odysseus!”

“So what are you complaining about? What do you want to hold me responsible for? Why are you acting like this?”

“Don't change the subject! Don't you dare play the victim, because you're not! I'm not saying you're to blame for everything, either. Are you even listening to me? It's not all about you, Odysseus! You were responsible for six hundred lives! How in Hades’ name am I supposed to understand if you don't tell me fucking anything?”

The king shook his head and placed a hand on his face with irritation. “Stop using those words! Mother didn't raise you that way.”

Ctimene was completely dumbfounded at the change of topic and raised her hands, eye twitching and her voice cracked in a high pitch. “What the heck does Mom have to do with this!? You're doing it again! You’re changing the topic!”

“You are royalty, you can't talk like that! Mother wouldn't be happy to hear you talking like a goat herder,” Odysseus replied, completely exasperated.

“Don't you dare mention Mom when you weren't even here to mourn her,” Ctimene pointed out, crossing her arms and not caring about the hurt in her brother’s eyes.

“Of course I wasn't!” the king yelled, and leaned into her with his voice cracking with pain. “I spent twenty years trying to stay alive so I could come back before having to bury anyone! Sorry if me being alive is so disappointing to you!”

Ctimene lower lip trembled at that “…Why do you say such a horrible thing? You know I’m mourning, idiot! B-But it doesn’t mean I want you dead!” she whimpered the last part, tears flowing again.

“Wait… Ctimene, I´m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to…” the king rushed to say, wanting to touch her arms but refraining to do so.

He was not going to say anything yet, and he knew if she felt comfort that way, she would ask about it. His sister was not dumb, and he might spill something out… even if he was not ready.

The beta sniffed and gulped before narrowing her eyes and spit out with rage despite her sadness, “You’re an idiot. Just go to Penelope already, your precious little boy is about to get here.”

She had never used that spiteful tone to refer to Telemachus. The alpha felt the hit hard in his heart, precisely what the woman intended.

After all, they both loved their important ones, both knew how it affected the other.

Penelope arrived in a hurry just as Ctimene was leaving. The queen opened her mouth, seeing her pass by, but then brought her hand to her lips for a second, pondering, before sighing and addressing her alpha.

“Odysseus, please stop making such a scene here. Your shouting can be heard all the way to the dining room, and everyone is beginning to speculate about the fight. If you want to talk to Ctimene about what happened, you need to find a more appropriate place and time. Stop acting this way; you must behave yourself today more than ever.”

The royal felt the unfairness of the issue; he wasn't even the one who started the fight! But he didn't want to argue with his beloved, especially after what had happened the night before and what was still pending that they had to talk about regarding Helen and, in this case, Hermione.

“You’re right, I will.”

The woman narrowed her eyes and then dropped the question making Odysseus sweat, “You weren’t planning on telling her, were you?”

At the diverting eyes of the alpha, Penelope placed her hands on her hips, not willing to let such a thing pass by without being breached.

“Odysseus of Ithaca. Why haven't you talked to her yet? Your sister deserves to know what happened as much as I do!

The king sighed, looking straight into her blue clear eyes, remembering all the things he faced on his journey, eyes showing a little how lost he were for a moment of his travel inside the mind.

“I can’t. Not yet… perhaps never,” whispered with sorrow.

The woman blinked in understanding but breathed in to deliver her answer. “Ody, my dear, you’re hurting her by concealing the truth and I won’t allow you to keep harming her like this.” The hand placing on his shoulder brought him back to the reality. “I won’t pressure you right now, but if you don’t tell her the little you’ve shared with me… then I will.” The brown eyes opening in a little betrayal were enough to make Penelope certain he understood. “I won’t, not soon… but I love Ctimene as my own sister and if you don’t do what you must do eventually, then it’s my duty to take care of her and protect her.”

“Alright, I will… I will, love.”

“Good. I trust you. Now let’s go have breakfast,” Penelope smiled at the cheers and eager voices, “Looks like they arrived, we must join as well.”

Telemachus was laughing and listening to the royals and nobles. He couldn’t help but feel a little very nervous. After all, he and Antinous had reached for a mutual agreement while they were directing to have breakfast.

They would break the news of their little one to all at once.

At first, Antinous had been the one who had vehemently opposed the idea, but as they walked, Telemachus had begun to enumerate and even list everything they would have to do in a couple of moons.

After all, the baby would soon be evident, and many details had to be arranged to prepare for its arrival. Politically speaking, too.

The alpha's expression grew sour, his left eyebrow slowly rising with each word his omega spoke, the eyelids drooping more and more with irritation and extreme laziness.

“...and to avoid all kinds of speculation and rumors, it would be best to break the news in official letters to all the guests.” The prince nudged him, interrupting himself for a second, “Maybe you don’t know it, but each one must be sealed with the official symbol of our house and perfumed with olive oil. For Sparta, one must be written by my own hand; for Pylos, another in Father’s name; and the rest the scribes can copy once approved....” the omega gasped and snapped his fingers, “Ah! And the council must also know, they might give us a sermon but who cares about it? Oh and we can´t forget! Father will expect the priests of Hera and Eileithyia to bless the news before it’s shared beyond the palace…”

Antinous sighed, dragging his palm over his face as the list lengthened, but Telemachus pressed on.

“And of course, we must provide small gifts to the noble houses who were here for the union celebration. We can’t let them hear the news secondhand from the harbor...”

“You know what? Fuck it… let’s just tell everybody like, right now… how much paperwork would that be saving us?”

Telemachus made a quick calculation and smiled with sufficiency, “Well, you can cross off the list all the letters to allies and kings, you lazy ass. And the gifts to the noble houses.”

“Meh, good enough for me. Alright, let’s do this,” the alpha replied with more energy, making the prince to spurt a bit of saliva with the laughter he managed to catch in his lips.

Rolling his eyes but smiling nevertheless, Telemachus nodded and walked right beside the man. Antinous would never change THAT much, would he?

And now, getting back to the breakfast, they were about to break the news. Well, Telemachus was about to. And well, he was nervous.

What would they think? Would they be angry? It was unexpected and not quite right for his status and title… well it was never right in the society but, but he was so happy! And he wanted to share his happiness, especially with his dearest people.

Telemachus already had the confidence the excitement of his mother provided him, but what would his father say? And his friends? Well, at least the pack formed by the former suitors already knew… but it was different now.

Oh, he was so nervous. But he cleared his throat after Peisistratus did a wonderful unexpected comment about pups and little ones, following the conversation his mother, Queen Eurydice, opened up.

“Well, we are not having that many children,” the prince said, his stomach already nervous about his decision, “The only thing I’m worried about is for this one to be born healthy and strong.”

Not everyone caught the meaning of his words, it was clear when many looked at the two of them, and half the table was still laughing and chatting.

Telemachus could feel the beating of his heart, the pairs of eyes wide open and some even with the mouth falling into the table. He smiled with his lips and tilted his head down slightly, assessing the environment as his hand made it even clearer, soft caresses on the abdomen.

It was the moment when his rich but simple chiton as a clothing choice that morning let the guest near them to see a small curve in the stomach, something the omegan mating robe had been covering the day before.

Peisistratus’ mouth clacked when Nausicaa raised her hand to close it, smiling sweetly and taking her other hand into her lower cheek to show how lovely that news was. Amphinomus eyes brightened, so happy and glad that his friends’ baby was doing fine since that moment they noticed its existence, his eyes went to the other former suitors and they were also smiling. There was a similar thought in all of their minds.

Some of the oldest nobles and kings were between outraged and confused, but decided to keep quiet because of Penelope smiling and glaring all over the table, searching for anyone willing to make a rude comment or judgement.

The woman for herself, when she wanted to, was terrifying.

Helen smiled as well as Menelaus, but the red-haired could easily tell how ashamed and guilty his mate was feeling.

Yesterday in the heat of the moment, she forgot about Telemachus being already expecting… such a thing must have caused Penelope a lot of distress later at night.

And a few murmurs where all over until even the ones not paying attention before now knew about the shocking information.

Odysseus had dropped the olive he was about to eat into his plate. He couldn’t believe it, and even had to process it to actually swallow the lump in his throat.

Telemachus… his son… the son he barely witnessed getting mated THE DAY BEFORE. He was pregnant… Telemachus was already pregnant.

Penelope sensed his blank thoughts and warned him by placing a hand on his thigh. That brought Odysseus back from the journey he had there for a moment inside himself. Of course he wanted to hit the table and demand answers but, if he did so, Penelope would be beyond angry and disappointed at him.

So… he would try and get the answers within the others as they talked. Because this was shocking and the king knew people. They were most certainty about to enter a gossip and curiosity spree.

His eyes unintentionally went straight to Antinous, the man blinking twice at noticing the king looking his way and the youngest alpha smirked, letting out a slight puff of air as his eyelids dropped a little to express his pride and triumph.

Odysseus felt a vein right next to his temple throbbing in so much rage.

That absolute bastard! He messed with me even knowing he had already impregnated my son! When did this happen! Was Penelope aware since then? No… no I don’t think so… I need answers! How could this be hidden from me!? Do I… I mean… does Telemachus even trust me, to begin with?

The anger shifted to worry and sadness, and it only build even bluer at the words that broke the silence.

“Congratulations to both of you. It’s nice to see some of us can actually get their happy ever after in the end.”

It was Ctimene’s voice, Telemachus sighed, relived of seeing the tension broken and nodded smiling sweetly but understanding at the gloom in his aunt’s voice.

“Thank you, I truly appreciate this, aunt. It means so much coming from you…”

The bubble of the king’s thoughts didn’t break, but slightly shifted at the pheromones being shared by his dear friend King of Sparta.

“This are such wonderful news! The gods are already smiling upon this union. Big things are coming; I can sense it in the air.” He rose from his place next to them and clasped Antinous by the shoulder with warrior’s warmth and leaned to touch Telemachus’ hand. “May your house be blessed with strength and serenity, young ones. Sparta rejoices with Ithaca.”

He turned to see his alpha, waiting for her verdict. The female felt even harder the tinge of guilt with the hopeful and expecting smile from her nephew, and seeing this as a way of apologizing to her cousin, she nodded and rose as well.

“It seems love runs deeper in those hearts who have come a long way to find it, Telemachus. How fortunate that the gods do not wait to bless those who are true. May your pack be always close and united to stand in the adversities strong as a family.” After saying this, she directed her green eyes to Penelope’s blue ones, asking her to forgive her for yesterday’s outburst.

The Ithacan queen understood and sighed before frowning in acceptance and smiling a little to her. She still needed to know why Helen reacted that way so, she couldn’t really blame her could she?

In the meantime, Ctimene was smiling in revenge, satisfied at the troubled expression of her brother poorly disguised by him. She could notice it had been a hard hit to him and, after their discussion, she was glad he got what he deserved.

Many more congratulations followed and questions soon flooded the talk. Queen Arete leaned towards Penelope with a graceful smile on her. “You must be proud beyond words, my lady. To see your son blessed so quickly, truly, this speaks of divine favor upon your lineage.”

Penelope’s smile deepened and she nodded happily.

“We are so blessed, Queen Arete. I recently realized this and I can’t tell you how excited I was. As you can tell, there has not being a little blessing running around for quite some time.”

The Ithacan king was paying attention to the conversation and felt a little more relaxed at the fact of Penelope knowing recently about all of this as well. His ears soon turned into the others meddling their fingers in the topic.

“At least I know it wasn’t in our palace,” the prince of Pylos said, scoffing with mischief. The guest laughed while Telemachus bloomed red, squeaking to his friend in humiliated expression. “I’m just saying my dear friend! I have my own suspicions, but tell us, please, when did all this happen?”

“Oh, how wonderful! I knew you held something far more precious than your relationship the moment I saw you both together, the way you looked at each other, like sunlight on the sea! Congratulations, truly!” Nausicaa squeaked in excitement.

“A romantic woman I see,” Antinous chuckled, amused by the words of the princess.

The former suitors laughed as well as some of the guests. The princess smirked and giggled before replying, “I am, my lord. And there is no shame at a woman loving romance. However, I would also like to know just as the young prince of Pylos does, how did this happen, after all, if my eyes do no deceive me, I expect you’ll sing lullabies surely before next spring here on Ithaca.”

Antinous rolled his eyes, half-smiling despite himself and Telemachus flushed even more, but his laughter broke the tension. And without the secrecy, he could finally touch his slightly swollen abdomen, giving a tender image to the ones who were glad by the event.

Peisistratus leaned forward eagerly, raising eyebrows and not caring at the cough from his old father practically begging for discretion as he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

“When did you find out? Was it long before now or recently? And I do wonder why would you like to take so early in your love life the challenge of raising a pup that will surely be the two of you mixed all over.”

A few of the younger nobles chuckled. And the teasing was soon there, making Antinous and Telemachus to feel a drop of sweat rolling down their temples.

“Ohhh the gods bless Ithaca, can you imagine a child born out of those two?”

“They will need divine intervention to get the child under control. I mean, Prince Telemachus has such a temper, do you remember?”

“Ha! If the pup is anything like Antinous, well they’ll be in for a bumpy ride, alright.”

“May the gods gift the nurses strong backs and stronger patience!”

“I hope they’re ready for sleepless nights. I hear infants can sense exhaustion and feed on it.”

King Nestor cleared his throat, politely, yet with that elder’s authority that demanded attention.

“A blessed thing, surely. And yet, in old times, such tidings were given after the rites were settled and witnessed by the gods. But… if the gods have spoken early, who are we to question their will?” His glance shifted between Odysseus and Penelope, offering them both dignity and reassurance.

His words were perfect for all of those still judgmental stares from some of the nobles and kings, who murmured their agreement, respectful, though hesitant. And of course, Antinous was making a list soon after without them noticing.

The alpha was smart and he knew that many were already doing what he himself would have thought about back in the days where he was only a suitor thirsting for power: to win favor, to get a place in the power race.

He concentrated, managing to block most of the voices until he could more less hear those voices that where trying to pass unnoticed.

The whispers and who were producing them. Luckily they weren’t too many, but as an alpha parent, trained since juvenile years to be prepared for everything and anything, he preferred to keep an eye on these ones who were already planning too far ahead.

“Do you think it's a boy or a girl? I only have a niece, so a boy would be nice for my brother’s kingdom.”

“That's not really important. Omega, beta, or alpha is also the question.”

Those two were at the back on the left. His ear caught another pair of whispers.

“Odysseus' legacy is very great, in terms of history and genes... if we manage to stay in his good graces, we could suggest a marriage or union as soon as the firstborn is of marriageable age.”

“We must wait for the prince to make a name for himself, otherwise the councils will not see the advantages as we do. In my case, I have an advantage, my son will soon present and my daughter is still in diapers, whatever the sex, I have options.”

And those were closer to him, at the right three or four persons after the old king.

Antinous grumbled, he was sure there were others only looking for political and power advantages but as for now, those four were the only ones he managed to identify and pinpoint. He would not let his pup to be a target since this early moment.

In the meantime, plenty of questions were raining over Telemachus, who was doing his downright best to answer them all. And Odysseus was taking advantage of it. Little by little, the king realized that technically, it was his arrival marked with blood that brought forward the family plans.

Now he was able to understand way better why Telemachus would have hated him if he killed the suitor. The king gulped and finally thanked Athena in his mind, this time, he didn’t fuck up when he decided to listen to the goddess.

Although not everyone agreed as it was natural, several others supported them after Telemachus explanations and thought it was a reasonable, beautiful and romantic gesture of loyalty.

The breakfast went on with Penelope telling a little from her perspective and suspicions making all the guest giggle and laugh about it. Odysseus turned to see Telemachus, the blue eyes of his boy catching his and smiling with a question clear in the eyes.

Are you upset, Father? You haven’t said anything yet.

The king tilted his head and taking the goblet of wine, he rose it slightly which made the omega to gleam and smile brightly, a relieved expression coloring him fully.

And then, while the older alpha was placing back his cup after trying to show support to his son, he remembered something that could never be really forgotten. The memory flashing painfully in his mind.

A room. A crib. A little baby crying, barely one-year-old. His dagger falling from his hands.

His eyes looked at his plate, his breathing getting shallower as he lost himself in the memory. Voices muffled, eyes unfocused. Not there anymore.

His arms cradling the little pup, smiling at his laughter, remembering his own precious Telemachus. Seeing him in Hector’s son.

And then…

Him walking to the balcony, watching the blazing city, the hundreds of dead on the streets. He remembers seeing a family trying to escape, his soldiers catching up to them and killing the man, grabbing the woman and pulling her away who screamed to stop, while one of his soldiers, raised his blade at the two children, the boy covering with his trembling body his little sister who screamed terrified.

He remembers closing his eyes at the broken scream from the woman and opening them to witness the blood at the young bodies.

He remembers the awful pit in the stomach at it. It was something that no matter how used to it he was, would ever disappear.

When children were involved, that is.

Odysseus gulped and his brown gaze placed on his son and his mate, both choosing that precise moment to look at each other and join foreheads. Happy, knowing they had a future right there.

They were replaced by him and Penelope, and in fast succession, Hector and Andromache. Both images at the moment when they were waiting for their little light.

Odysseus flinched and felt cold at the memory. They were all war criminals, and they chose freely, all of them, Trojan and Greek.

But… maybe… No… he HAD to, otherwise he would lose Penelope and Telemachus under the monster’s claws.

The king shuddered at the shadow behind him, smiling in a sinister way, the alpha even feeling as if the smile was tainted with dripping blood.

Whose monster’s claws are you referring to? O-dy-sse-us?

…

… When does a comet become a meteor?...

…

He remembers how fast he turned when he heard the voice of the young man behind him.

“If it proves to be too much for you, Odysseus. I can gladly take care of him.”

Neoptolemus was looking at him with his green eyes, all bloodied and looking with hate at Hector’s pup. He grabbed the baby even tighter.

“What are you doing here, Neo? This is…”

“Yeah I know… Prince Hector’s room… Huh, lucky bastard… oh well, what else gives? Just kill him and let’s get out of here.”

He protected the pup sucking his chubby hand unafraid of his fate.

…

… When does a candle become a blaze?...

…

“You still have not answered my question, Pyrrhus”

The young man hissed and rolled his eyes. “Alright, you caught me, old king of Ithaca. You’re always this annoying aren’t you?”

“Neo…”

“Ugh… spare the sermon, would you? I’m not your precious baby boy back home. Listen I just wanted to make sure the job is done. And it would be nice to make sure my war prize will not have anything to tie her back into this stupid city anymore.”

“What? Y-You mean Andromache? But, what about Hermione? Don’t you think it’s too soon to claim a concubine, you’re…” He was about to say ‘too young’ when the irritated voice of Neo cut him short.

“Claiming my rightful prize… I killed Priam and all his kin… now, can you kill that one there? Or should I spill his blood in a creative way?” his red hair looked terrifying with the way the young beta tilted his head to smile with sadistic cruelty.

…

… When does a man become a monster?...

…

His hands covered the child, feeling disgusted at the way the youngster was waiting, almost wishing to end the baby’s life.

What had Aniketos done to Neo? He used to be cruel and a killing machine. But since Neoptolemus got angry with him and decide to spend all his time with the Spartan strategos before being sent back to his country as punishment for his mistakes… his sadistic tendencies had evolved.

However, Zeus’ warning echoed in his mind. Another gulp. He had to choose. And his choice, was clear.

“Don’t… I’ll do it…”

“Yeah, I don’t believe you… Do what you must… I’ll follow you.”

…

… When does a ripple become a tidal wave?...

…

“Fine… then come. We’ll go to the city wall.”

“Huh, I knew it… You’ll clean your conscience by gifting the vermin a compassionate death… alright, it’s your call, king Odysseus. As long as he dies, I don’t care.”

…

… When does the reason become the blame?...

…

He remembers that moment well. He took advantage of the fact that everyone was still celebrating and finishing their work to go with Achilles' son to the top of the wall. He had to prepare himself mentally to do it... his legs were shaking and he felt a terrible urge to vomit... but in the end he plucked up his courage and, after covering the little boy who had fallen asleep in his arms, he stretched out his arms and let the baby fall into the void.

…

… When does the man become a monster?...

…

Odysseus felt again the sickness he felt up there and had to swallow the vomit and bile to prevent a social disaster right there. But the only thing he now remembered was Andromache’s broken howl and scream when she saw them walking down the stairs of the walls… her little pup’s horse toy being thrown to her cruelly by the red-haired young warrior.

He never even saw when he took it from the crib.

Telemachus laughter shattered his traumatic memories and forced him to focus his sight. Capturing his omegan son smiling, hand resting sweetly over that bump on his body.

Odysseus felt a lighting striking him and filling every fiber of his body with fear. Fear of being hated not only by Penelope, as he first thought when he arrived home… but now there was again the possibility of his only son hating him, and even fearing him.

Oh no… no, no, no… he couldn’t find out, he shouldn’t find out now…

Telemachus could never find out. At least not now, of course he was nervous about telling Penelope that particular sin, he would have to tell her now that their son had revealed he was expecting. But Telemachus?

Odysseus thought he’d have more time. He was dreading between the excitement of becoming a grandparent with a new opportunity to make things right, and the memories that kept murmuring to him what he was, all the blood that flooded his body and was waiting for him to drown on it.

Would he be able to protect his grandson from the real monster lurking in the palace… from the darkness surrounding him?

Chapter Text

Finally, the whole event was over. Odysseus could breathe easy again, except that he had so much to explain to the love of his life.

That's why they were now sitting there on the edge of the olive bed, witness to so many things in their lives. The king was waiting, trying to delay the conversation with silence, but Penelope blue eyes were not departing from him. Not since he said they needed to talk about what happened.

“I saw you talking to Helen before they left. Was it about the things she mentioned yesterday night?”

“Yes. She was right, I owed her an apology. And now things are fine… Don’t worry about it.”

Penelope hummed before placing a hand on his cheek gently. “Now you need to tell me what was all that about. You know? I was really shocked back then. I know Helen, she might be impulsive and brash sometimes, but she would never risk her image if it’s something non important. So…”

Odysseus nodded to give himself courage.

“Of course… of course, you’re right. Well… Oh my… where should I start? How about I just say the thing and then you ask all the things you want to know?”

Penelope could tell this was a deflective move. Her alpha intended to say enough to satisfy her and leave outside of the tale everything else. But she could also play the game to beat her husband’s fear, so she nodded in agreement.

“Right,” Odysseus huffed, heart pounding hard in his chest. “You see. In the middle of the war, the situation was very tense and… with Achilles negatives to fight because of a stupid war prize issue involving Agammenon… I kind of… proposed Helen… to marry off her daughter Hermione to Achilles' son this in order to secure a proper alliance for the benefit of everyone.”

The last part was said so fast, that Penelope had to blink twice, then register the action and then open her eyes in total scandal. Entirely forgetting the game of cunning she was planning to follow to get more answers.

“You did what!?”

Odysseus closed his eyes and tried to explain his course of action for that.

“We needed not only Achilles, but also a descendant of his, Penelope! And with Achilles negatives, nobody knew what to do in order to convince Neo to fight in the war. He didn’t want to be near his father when he finally got a chance to meet him and Achilles spoiled it by acting spiteful and resented towards him, breaking the image Neo had of his heroic father… I figured that since Menelaus was the one captive, then it was Helen’s responsibility to aid this key factor for us to recover Menelaus and win the war… I told her what we needed to do and even if she was hesitant at first… she agreed…”

Penelope began massaging her temples, not believing what she was hearing.

“Are you saying to me… that Hermione’s first marriage with Achilles’ son… was because you convinced Helen to gift her like cattle to a young man who is always represented covered in blood and cruelty? … Am I missing something, Odysseus?”

“Well… it was the only way. The war wouldn’t have ended without this arrangement. But I must admit, it was not a right thing to do.”

“That’s what you said to Helen?”

“That among other things. But yeah.”

The queen grunted and then looked harshly at her husband.

“Listen to me, husband. I think you don’t understand the magnitude of what this represented to Helen and later on, to Menelaus.”

This matter was serious, so the alpha paid every ounce of attention to his wife. Talking to the Spartan monarchs to solve the problematic from the past, he could see the different emotions throught their expressions. Helen was still upset and Menelaus looked both ashamed and also pained.

Penelope’s gaze hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line. She inhaled slowly through her nose, the kind of breath Telemachus would’ve immediately recognized as the attitude of a mother about to correct her child.

“You say it as if it were a strategy, Odysseus,” she said quietly, her voice low but firm. “But you forget that in Sparta, a woman’s marriage is not a simple exchange of names and titles. It is her whole life, bound and sealed in blood. You talk of alliances as if they were a simple thing. Marriage and unions are no simple thing, but for us Spartan women, this is more than just an arrangement.”

Odysseus shifted, uneasy and Penelope went on, her tone the same and blue eyes proving how important this was.

“I was born in Sparta. I saw girls trained to bear the weight of men’s wars before they ever saw a battlefield. We were taught to be strong, yes, but also to obey when our fathers and husbands decide where our lives, our hearts, our wombs will be sent. Helen learned the same and Hermione as well. Don’t you see? To Helen, now that she come to relize things she didn’t back then, you used that obedience against her.”

Her eyes glinted would irritation and the alpha shuddered. He didn’t like when the cause of Penelope’s anger was him.

“And leave the whole Spartan women pride aside. I mean, you asked her to give away her child, Odysseus! Not only her only daughter born from the love she and Menelaus have, but also her only heir! Now I get why she said such atrocious thing about Telemachus’ children… you were blessed with a son, but do you realize Hermione, as a woman and a beta, is still bound to laws not taking her primary gender into account? She couldn’t inherit the kingdom and of course Helen would never allow that Achilles son to become king! Therefore, her threat yesterday held bits of truth…”

The legendary hero paled. At that moment, he hadn't really considered any of that. He had gone for the logical, immediate answer that gave him everything he needed. Penelope kept going.

“And to make it worse. This arrangement as you called it, it was not bounding Hermione to a kind man. Not to someone she chose, or who could offer safety. But to a boy forged in blood, a boy who had known nothing but killing. You told Helen it was for Greece, and she trusted you. You made her trade her daughter for her husband’s rescue, and she complied to your wishes. Do you even understand what that would do to a mother?”

Odysseus swallowed. “I do now. But it was the only path left… There was a prophecy…”

“The only path left to you,” Penelope cut in, her voice sharper now. “You speak as if the gods cornered you, and maybe they did at some point, Odysseus. But in that moment, it was you who cornered Helen. Tell me, husband, did you look her in the eye when you said her daughter’s fate would buy Menelaus’ life?”

He did not answer, and instead looked straight into the floor. He felt so much like a scolded puppy dog, ears and tail not moving and hanging sadly.

“Of course not,” she whispered. “Because then you would have seen what it costs to be a Spartan woman, to watch the men we marry or counsel send our children into the teeth of war, and to do it silently, because that is what strength is expected to look like.” Ithaca’s queen head rose then, not in anger, but in the quiet dignity of someone who has carried her own share of silence. “Do you know what they say back in Sparta?” she asked softly before answering, “A Spartan woman does not cry when her husband goes to war. She waits, and when he returns, she makes him answer for it.”

Her gaze met his, unyielding.

“So here you are. Returned at last… And I am asking.”

Odysseus exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “You’re right, I did not see it that way. I was thinking as a strategist, not as a father or even as a friend.”

And in the end, Penelope’s words were similar but entirely different comparing them to Helen’s ones. The cousin of his wife had emphasized how much it had affected her not only to see her daughter in a marriage she was not truly happy about, but also she was still feeling like a fool for having accepted Odysseus's idea, thinking that he was really doing what was best for everyone and that it was a necessary sacrifice, when he was just using for his own advantage the fact of her being naive about some issues and sacrifices leading victory in a war as important as the one between the most prominent kingdoms of Greece and the great impenetrable city of Troy.

Helen had also mentioned that it might have taken them much longer to win if they hadn’t convinced Neoptolemus in that way, but it was clear to her after the rumors and whispers among the kings and commanders that Odysseus had taken advantage of her trust to make decisions that were not really his to make.

Menelaus actually revealed as well that he was ashamed to admit it, but if he had been in Helen's place, he would have done exactly what Odysseus did. This further appeased both alphas, as the former mentioned that he understood them both for that very reason. Both Odysseus as a strategist and Helen as a progenitor and master of her decisions.

For he, just as Helen, regretted to witness maybe not all in his case, but some of his beloved daughter’s union with Achilles’ son. Hermione was not happy… and both could witness it in the end. Her marriage was always marked by conflict. Their daughter living those years full with resentment because Neoptolemus learned to love his concubine and war prize, Andromache, more than her.

It shocked Menelaus when his beloved daughter asked for him to aid her by killing Andromache in secrecy. Of course he never did it, and the amount of anger and grief he allowed his body to release as a prime, was enough to make his daughter to jolt back and take back her ill wishes and desires. But it hurt the prime way too much to see how heartached their daughter was… in the end, because of them all.

“As usual,” Penelope murmured in reply of her alpha’s admission, hoewever there was no venom or intention of hurting him. But she was sad because her heart was aching at the truth. “I do not blame you for wanting to end the war,” she said after a moment. “But that arrangement cost a girl her peace, and both an omegan mother and an alpha father their sleep. Helen may have forgiven you,” she scoffed, raising an eyebrow and looking at the ceiling, “or at least pretended to. But I do not think you’ve forgiven yourself.”

She walked a bit till she was right in front of her man. Odysseus gulped hard at the scrutiny of those lovely eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you haven’t forgiven yourself not only about this, but so many other things… You think I didn’t notice your expressions at breakfast? It all started when Telemachus announced his pregnancy. And now as your wife, I’m asking once more… Please, tell me what happened to you there.”

The silence that followed was long and heavy, stretching between them both comfortable but filled to the brim with nervousness as well from Odysseus’ part.

Alright… alright… everything will be fine… it is time… I need to… tell her… about… that.

Odysseus swallowed hard and, without really daring to look her in the eye, told his wife that he had something to confess. Penelope expected anything but her alpha drowning in sobs and starting to cry.

“Odysseus? What's wrong? Why are you crying?” she asked, quickly approaching him more and wrapping her arms around him. All her anger forgotten in an instant.

What she managed to understand after listening carefully to his rapid murmurs broke her heart a little more.

“Please forgive me... don't hate me... Please forgive me... Penelope, forgive me... Don't hate me... please...”

“Odysseus? My beloved, what's wrong?” Now the woman was worried. Until now, her alpha had never been like this. “Don't keep it to yourself, tell me what's wrong, what's troubling you... don't carry it alone.”

The king choked and nodded, holding on to her desperately, his hands trembling, and Penelope's blue eyes widened at the scared grip his hands gave her upper arms.

“I will... but even if you hate me, I beg you... don't tell Telemachus... He wouldn't be able to bear it... not now... not now...”

“Why? What did you do that you fear our son would hate you?”

His breathing was going faster by the moment, and the woman’s eyes were moving over her love’s body, trying to bring him back with her touches in the back and head. It usually helped.

“Every time I dare to close my eyes… I can still see him…”

“See who?”

Odysseus voice pitched sharper, tears running down his face as he turned to see Penelope with small brown irises.

“I keep thinking of the infant from that night… I keep thinking of the infant from that night, Penelope!”

The queen might be a beta, but even she could tell their room was flooded with acre pheromones all around them. Worn by weaving hands placed on his cheeks and caressed to ground him back.

“An infant? Who are you talking about? … whatever it is, you need to stop… it’s hurting you… it’s time. Tell me about it.”

The voice began telling, and with the pace of the story, Penelope’s hands were slowly retreating the king’s body. Cautious, reflexive and, why not, after all she was feeling that.

Horrified.

Odysseus couldn’t get himself to raise his eyes and look at his wife. He knew what he would find. The same thing he felt deep down, back there, along his journey, and even right now, back home.

The memory of Andromache crying came back to him and tormented him. The woman who had once been the wife of a noble and great Trojan prince went mad with grief when she saw him and Neo coming down from the wall, the red-haired boy telling her that she no longer had anything tying her to her old life.

Her broken, desperate cries woke him at night almost as much as the vision of his hands carrying a small pup and then... and then...then...

…

He always looked at his hands, empty, after closing his eyes in the remembrance of his monstrous action.

…

Penelope didn’t want to, as she was aware of how much he must be tortured by his memories, but she could not help seeing her Odysseus, the man she had been waiting for for so many years, with such horror... unable to speak or make a sound through her throat.

The alpha king broke the silence once he was able to regulate his own distress and anxiety.

“For weeks, I couldn't even conceive the idea of seeing a baby without shaking and feeling like vomiting.” A trembling sigh escaped him, the hands rising so he could see them with his face still bowed. “Even now, during the darkest and quietest nights, I am sometimes haunted by memories mixed with bad dreams.”

The queen’s eyes finally placed on her husband and reunited courage to keep the conversation a little more if possible.

“You’re still unable to see a pup? Is this why you were so affected by our son’s news?”

Odysseus raised his tearful eyes to look at her face to face, a couple of tears falling.

“Yes and no... it's... complicated... what happened is that... in a way, I managed to wash away some of the blood from that horrible sin.”

Faced with Penelope's perplexed expression, the king wiped his nose and turned to look at the stars twinkling delicately through the window, smiling slightly at the memory of what, in a few seconds, would become another of the stories known to Penelope about his journey home.

Polites was checking the spears along with another crew member. Both talking animatedly until the man stopped sharpening, raising his head and sniffing softly at the air.

"What's wrong?" wondered the hair banded man, lowering the spear.

The alphas and omegas were always such a wonder for Polites. He admired each of them so much, after all, sometimes people saw them as inferior because they had abilities and traits reminiscent of animals. This was mostly the case with betas, but Polites thought it was jealousy; for him, the other subgenders were the peak of human evolution.

Combined human intelligence and kindness with the sharp instincts and survival skills of animals who could survive naturally in the wild? How awesome was such a thing?

"It's just, something in the air," muttered the male alpha, sniffing faster.

"You can smell it too?" Another alpha quickly got closer after catching what his comrade had said in low voice. "Thought I was going nuts cause nobody else seemed to pick it up. What is it?"

Raising his head a little, Polites tried to smell something different in the air, perhaps he couldn't sense the pheromones or faint scents, but maybe he could get a little glimpse of whatever those two were detecting.

The only scent was the perfume of the sea, something he was already getting quite used to. You have to if you’ve been on board of a ship for three days already—no land on sight and, unfortunately, little food—. That and the musky scent of too many men and alpha in the same place, more than one ship perhaps, but even with a few female alphas, the testosterone was a wild thing.

Both of his comrades looked at the same time at their right, like hound dogs finally catching the trail of a prey.

“There, it’s from the omegan side of the deck… Should we ask before going there? I mean,” the one speaking shrugged his shoulders in consideration. “This doesn’t smell like heat but, someone could feel we’re intruding.”

It was clear that no one really dared to go where their noses were leading them, so Polites nodded determinedly and stood up.

“We have to make sure everyone is okay. Come on, I imagine they won't mind if I go over and talk to them first.”

The three of them walked to the side of the deck where the small group of omegan men were. Every ship had an even distribution of the male omegas, as it was dangerous to have them all concentrated in one place. The wavy-curly black haired man was glad they did get closer, the omegas were talking quite worried and jolted when seeing them come closer.

Four of them blocked their path, not before Polites were able to see one of their companions, a male omega named Phaedra, breathing rapidly and grunting in what seemed to be a deep distress.

“Please, leave, this is not a good time,” the oldest omega spoke, low voice and worry in his tone.

“Is Phaedra not feeling well?” Polites replied kindly and allowing them to see he was worried. “The others sensed something and we just want to know if everything is fine.”

Another omegan man, the youngest one, dared to speak, narrowing his eyes and hissing towards the alphas. “We don’t need any help from alphas at this, thank you very much!”

Polites raised an eyebrow at the defensive attitude, especially with how often the other two omegas were looking at the one in the floor of the deck. His inner beta told him to pay attention at the details, and, thinking it was a mere fleeting idea, Polites did.

The omega was huffing and the grunts seemed almost as if he were biting something to hush his pain, and, quite important fact, he was covered with one of the blankets they had, but the day was sunny. Polites’ head clicked in place and widened his eyes with the information his worried crew mates managed to get out of them.

“Hey listen, we don’t know what’s wrong, but if Phaedra is sick, then all the crew is at risk! Are you really willing to help him conceal such a thing?”

“It’s not something contagious, therefore there is nothing to say!”

“Boy! Your words!”

“Oh shit… sorry…”

“So Phaedra does have something… is it a wound? I’m smelling blood.”

“I said it’s not of your business!”

“We’re part of the crew, it’s a relevant matter for us! Especially if one of our omegas is wounded! We were all fine when we left Troy, so, if someone harmed him, we must know!”

“Leave that alone,” the other alpha grumbled, “Captain needs to know. This is something important and such actions of treason towards each other could lead to something worse later on!”

The omega couldn’t help to moan and sob, the other two who were not arguing rushed to his side, bringing some clothing and covering him better.

More alphas were cornering them, all called by that scent that was muffled by the cloaks over the body in the deck. The youngest male omega showed his fangs in annoyance but the oldest one prevented for the spooked youngster to do anything rash at the amount of alphas and men.

Polites however, knew what was going on the second he witnessed Phaedra’s face.

He was sweating, his lower lip all bruised and wounded from biting it to silence the cries of pain and agony. The beta placed a hand on the oldest omega and smiled gently nodding softly, the man understood and placed a hand on his shoulder as well, nodding back.

“What!? You’re letting him go near him!? B-But he is the king’s best friend! He will say something!” rushed to bark the young man outraged.

“Dear boy… maybe it’s necessary…” sighed defeated the older man, allowing Polites to kneel next to the omega. His hands placed away a bit of the fabric covering for him to see how advanced it was.

The second he did, the scent was clear for all the alphas, who stood straighter and began watching carefully to each other, trying to sense if there was danger nearby. Some of them tried to come nearer but the main omegas prevented it.

“Just him,” asked with authority of age the oldest one. “We must not overwhelm him.”

The alphas looked at each other, every men trying to see the final result, murmurs rising and whispering spilling all around. Polites looked around until he divised the two first men who had realized of the situation.

“I need for you to get water and to get Eurylochus here. He needs to asses this situation and to inform Odysseus about it.”

Both nodded and rushed to comply with the orders, elbowing the crew out of their way.

Some time later, Odysseus stood at the top of the mast, gazing longingly at the horizon and trying to distract his mind from the events in Troy.

“Captain!”

His brother-in-law's voice made him turn around, where he noticed the commotion that had formed, with almost the entire crew gathered at one of the rear points of the deck. He quickly descended, adjusting his cape and clearing his throat.

“What's going on, Eury? What's everyone doing back there?”

The expression on his second-in-command's face was one of doubt and consternation, so his own face suddenly turned serious.

“We don't know how it happened, the ship's omegas won't let us get too close to get answers.”

“But?”

“But... Odysseus...” His lips moved, the words carried away by the sea breeze, leaving the king stunned as he tried to process what he had been told.

Odysseus ran until he was just outside the gathered circle.

His heart was beating fast with anxiety, and it only increased as he pushed his crew members aside. Some moved as soon as they saw him, but they were all nervous about the energy their captain brought with him as he moved.

They didn't know if it was a good or bad sign. When the omegas who were loyal to their comrade had to step aside on the captain's orders, the king held his breath, all sound around him fading away for a few seconds.

The omega was there, lying next to a kneeled Polites, the male smiling and sweaty, purring in relief and rubbing his nose with a tinier little one. Innocent whines and whimpers coming out from the little creature that right now, was making the alpha’s stomach to churn violently, threatening with returning that morning’s almost inexistent breakfast.

The man’s eyes discovered Odysseus and his expression morphed into pure horror, clutching the baby with fright.

“Captain…” mumbled, still trying to conceal his tiny newborn.

The silence was deafening, and it didn't improve when the king couldn't help but double over and turn even paler as he quickly approached the edge of the ship to empty the contents of his stomach right into the ocean.

Polites scrunched his brows in concern. He was one of the few who knew why Odysseus was reacting that way.

Far too many believed that Neoptolemus was responsible for Hector's child's death. Not everyone had seen what had happened, and the king had simply told those closest to him the truth about his actions on the wall of the impenetrable city. When he recovered, Eurylochus’ hand on his back, and he got closer again, the tension was unbearable.

“Captain! Please, I beg you, please listen!” managed to plead the omega, trying to hush his crying baby.

“We barely have food, no island had enough for all the crew… it better be a good explanation, because I’m really questioning your sanity right now,” Odysseus answered, trying hard to not even have a glimpse at the little body.

If he did, he would puke again.

The man rushed to talk, rocking the little baby for him to sleep and not make their situation worse.

“You know how was back in Troy, captain! I m-mean… we omegas were pulled into the tents from time to time even if there were alphas and other higher ranked soldiers protecting us… there was… t-there was…” the light brown eyes were darting everywhere with nervousness. Such a thing was too much and the youngest omega yelled, making Odysseus to turn his head slightly to see him.

“He was protecting me, captain!” square shoulders and pursed lips right after talking were making Odysseus understand sooner everything. “There was an athenian alpha soldier who kept insisting me to help him relive his needs! More than once the strategos from Athens and the ones from our nation protected me, but Phaedra was there the moment he was trying to drag me with him into the Athenian territory and there was no one with more power in sight… and he…”

The king turned back into the man rocking the pup, knowing the young one was feeling already quite guilty for the result and that's why he had stopped talking. The omegan mother turn up to look at the king, renewed with courage by the choice taken back in Troy to help a comrade.

“He was starting heat, captain… I had a lower chance of getting pregnant. I didn’t want for the alpha to lose control and bite his gland.” He looked at the baby finally breathing calm and wrapped in cloaks. “And, unlike him who is yonger and unmated … I have a wonderful almost mate waiting back home… I know she will understand and love this little crewmate here.”

Polites beamed at the smile from the omega and looked up to see Odysseus, tilting his head and asking him with his eyes what he was planning to do now.

The king grunted and looked at the sky in defeat.

I’m not even sure if the creature will hang until we get back to Ithaca… we still have no luck with food and I don’t know how many days it will be until his mother’s milk runs out.

“Fine… I understand how we come to this moment,” sighed right before looking at the omega with seriousness and more than a cold stare at the reality they would face. “But I need you to comprehend that your… descendant, might not even survive until we reach the Ionian islands.” The men shared looks and looked in emphathy at their omegan crewmate. The king was right, this journey might be too much for a newborn. “Our food is not enough for all of us. If you want to keep him alive, you’ll need to negotiate with those willing to share their already small portion of remaining food. This might sound cruel, but we have no other way around it. Understood?”

The tired face got brighter, the man nodding with determination. “Aye captain, it’s clear.”

Odysseus felt a tingue of bloody horrible guilt in his chest, so he only nodded and rushed to get away, quickly followed by Polites after the beta patted the omega and stood up. The whole crew got near, letting their king come through and acknowledging the little baby as one of their own.

There was excitement in most of the men despite the gloomy idea of food running out sooner. The pair of female alphas were the first ones to come closer and fawn over the pup, allowed by the male omegas because of their primary sex. They soon started sharing parenting advices and giggles could be heard at the baby cute yawns or cooes.

Meanwhile the news were spreading through the other ships thanks to the messengers that shouted and made the signs for the other ships to follow. Of course, a single rocking motion with the arms and the shouted word omega, was enough so that all the ships would spread the news. Now there were six hundred men plus one who had to return home.

The situation became tense in just a couple of days. There was not enough food on any of the tiny islands they encountered, and the need pushed them into searching in further islands, getting deviated from the route home.

Soon the time came when there was nothing left to eat. And then, hunger arrived. Cruel, cold and with gnashing teeth ready to kill anything in its way.

The humanity of the crew on Odysseus' ship was immediately put to the test. Not only because several of them looked with anger and irritation at the baby who cried a lot as the only way to express his needs, but also because the omega parent was always trying to get some kind soul to give him any food, however little it was.

And his omegan companions couldn’t aid him everyday. They also needed to stay alive.

But the most awful thing was when there was not a single grain left. The whole crew witnessed how Phaedra was getting weaker and weaker, trying hard to keep his pup warm and well fed.

Until the deadful hour came when his body was not able to produce any more omegan milk for the baby. No matter how hard the baby cried and sucked, nothing was produced from his mother’s chest. A few drops might not be able to fill the tiny tummy, but it was enough to provide sufficient nutrients to keep the strength, as male omega’s milk was the most nutritive among all the subgenders.

But now, there was none.

The omega was desperate as the little one began losing the little fat he had and begun sleeping more and more to silence hunger.

Until that moment, Polites had been the closest to Phaedra and the infant, bringing reports to Odysseus because the man cared even though he couldn't bear it. So when his closest friend told him with pain and sadness that the rumors that the baby would die soon were more than true, the inner alpha of the king growled in rebuke, and Odysseus himself agreed.

Shaking and feeling sick, Odysseus forced himself to face his trauma. He couldn't bear it if the pup died under his command; he would never forgive himself. He wouldn't have his innocence staining his hands along with the other innocent blood he had spilled.

Whenever he had the chance, whether killing small animals or even birds, the king would bring a piece of game to the omega, who would cry with gratitude before the monarch on each occasion.

Obviously, this attitude aroused indignation and fights among some of the crew, but as several said, and even Polites himself and Eurylochus defended, the hunting pieces were so small that distributing them among everyone would be crazy, besides, a baby was a priority and they could survive unlike the newborn.

The king spent several days devoting himself entirely to caring for the two, and before long he was forced by his own paternal instinct, which was slowly resurfacing, to care for the little pup while his exhausted omegan mother slept and regained his strength.

Rowing and parenting might be different tasks but facing any of those with an empty stomach and under the unforgiving blaze of the sun, was hard as the lightest of Heracles’ tasks.

Polites was happy to see his king, captain, and best friend slowly getting better. He could see it in the way he rocked the baby gently to get him to sleep, smile barely there but a ghost of a purr right there many of the nights were he stumbled into the moment when arriving next to them to replace Odysseus in the caring of the infant.

The beta was sure he could help his friend even more. He just had to show Odysseus how to welcome the world with open arms. To learn once more how to relax after all that they had been through.

They were strong enough to survive, but they had to leave behind the war and bloodshed, how could they move forward if they kept looking behind and letting guilt to take over their souls and hearts but not learning from it and improving?

Yes, they did awful things, war was awful and actions couldn’t be undone. But open arms were not a synonym of blank mind and soul, it was learning and greeting the possibilities! Why take when they could give so many things? Why keep filling their hands with blood when it wasn’t necessary (because in their world, sadly, sometimes it was still a need) until it overflowed their palms? Why do that when they could choose a better way? New ways of using their hands and opening new paths. Maybe then, others would follow, and maybe this would be the way to start a world where they didn’t have to live that way.

Kill or be killed. Cruelty in order to survive.

But someone had to start, someone had to take the leap.

And he was willing to try. And maybe, such a thing could cure his friend’s heart…

Polites eyes shone bright, the fading light of the sunset reflecting in them as he could see Odysseus flinching at the baby stretching to try and touch his face. Similar to what Hector’s baby tried to do, according to what the beta knew from his best friend.

… relieve the guilt and show him that despite darkness, there was still light.

That even after darkness…

The king surprised expression morphed into a sweet smile, proceeding to laugh lightly when the little pup stopped his intents to sneeze at the sound.

…there was still light.

“… But then… we… we lost him. At an island home to cyclops… at the home of Polyphemus… who I didn’t know… was kin… of the god Poseidon… I lost him, Penelope.”

Things just weren’t the same after Polites’ death. Eurylochus was already serious by his own nature of personality, but he took refuge entirely on his second in command role, taking care of the other alphas and men even more than himself and missing his wife every day more and more. For the joyful and lively light in their journey… was now gone.

He wanted to be back with Ctimene. But after Polites’ death, he was impatient and afraid of not making it.

Odysseus only moments of slight happiness now were alongside the baby that once repelled as he reminded him of his sins. But now, the pup was a reminder of another whole thing.

Telemachus. His own baby he had left home along with his beloved mate, his sweet and wonderful Penelope.

He HAD to come back home.

Of course the storm didn’t make it any easier… the island in the sky and the wind bag was a hard test, one that they failed miserably… and after the encounter with Poseidon himself…

Now that was the beginning of a cloying and suffocating darkness that eventually would engulf Odysseus alive.

But Odysseus heartache came earlier than the darkness. Right after they arrived at an island after Poseidon sinking all of the ships except for one.

He was at the beach of such island, his remaining crew repairing the ship as he tried hard to comfort with his scent the little one. After all, Phaedra was one of the men who was dragged by Poseidon’s wrath and died drowned like some of the others who also got drawn outside their ship.

The king was mourning already because he knew everything was lost for the little pup. The baby no longer had a mother and would therefore die, because there was no one left to feed him milk, the only food he could consume at such a tender age and which kept him alive. The only female alpha they had left tried, but she couldn't produce milk due to her subgender even with the stimulation of a hungry and sucking baby, much less the other male omega who had survived. He was too old and his anatomy didn't work that way either.

A handful of male omegas were able to produce milk if a pup required it, just like a handful of beta and omega women were able to induce lactation, but unlike the females, the male omega nature and ability had an early limit in the age.

When he sent Eurylochus to scout the island, he was using the time to say goodbye to the baby. Athena would probably have told him to leave him on the island, as he would surely have had a better chance of some animal taking pity on him than of being taken away with them and dying of starvation.

And perhaps he would have listened to her if the goddess had stayed with him, if she hadn't abandoned him as she did because of the argument they had.

But now, he couldn’t do it. He was saying goodbye because he knew that his death was a certain thing. And he couldn’t know when it would be so, better now than never in time.

But lucky for the tiny pup, the Moirai were kind in his destiny unlike so many of the ones who had died until then.

For something unexpected happened, something Odysseus was not counting on.

The appearance and confrontation with the daughter of the sun god Helios and the ocean nymph Perse.

The sorceress Circe, a woman who many considered a goddess. A goddess of magic. A goddess that, impressed with how Odysseus faced her potions and spells, decided to help him, providing food, advice and other things but… with the condition of the King of Ithaca bedding her and becoming her lover for a year before they left into the underworld to find Tiresias and find their way home.

The god Hermes, surprisingly making an appearance to aid him, had already told this to Odysseus.

But, thanks to such an intervention. The little boy was able to live, and for the span of a year, the pup was able to grow up, being adored by Circe’s nymphs and being loved like a son for the goddess herself.

The choice when the time to leave arrived, was painful but easy for Odysseus and the rest of the crew who also had grown to really love the one-year-old baby.

They were about to leave, at Odysseus left, his remaining crew was readying the ship for the journey of shadow into Hades. The little one yawned in his arms, small fists clinging to the edge of his cloak, and the king smiled, sorrow written in his face.

Circe and her nymphs were watching them, just arrived at the beach to say goodbye.

“He can’t come with us. Death for someone as helpless and small, is a high chance.”

A few of the nymphs gasped, glancing at each other, already sensing what was about to happen. Circe walked nearer to the alpha, reaching out and brushing her fingers over the child’s hair.

“You will entrust him to me, then?”

Odysseus nodded once. It’s what his crewmate, the mother of the pup, would have wanted. For him to live happy, safe and never feeling the spikes of hunger ever again. Slowly, Circe took the infant into her arms, the nymphs getting closer right away, one of them reaching for the baby’s hand and laughing when his tiny fingers grasped her own.

“He will be loved here. And safe. My dear ones already love him.” The nymphs nodded eagerly, cooing soft things as they touched the baby’s feet and cheeks

Circe straightened and her voice was clear and filled with pride. “Today, this pup becomes one of us. He might be born of men but he will be known as the one cradled by and raised among goddesses.”

Then, with one look at the man who caused a lasting impression, enough for her to both trap him and help him, she dictated with a clear like a river voice. “Let him bear a new name. He was known as Theos, the chosen name from his omegan mother, but today, this little mortal is born again… Those who get to meet him shall call him Telegonus, born afar, son of Circe and protector of the island where we reside.”

Odysseus flinched at the sound of it and he almost expressed his discomfort. The words remaining in his head.

No. I don’t like it, little one has his own name, why making his name like Telemachus? Is she playing with me?

Instead, he chose a little more diplomatic intervention from him. “That… A similar name already belongs to my son in Ithaca, Circe.”

“I know.” Her tone was calm, but final. “It will be a name of redemption. I consider it fitting, after all…” Her eyes glowed golden, making the king to shiver and gulp in fright. Sometime he forgot she was daughter of a god. “I know why you’ve been so devoted to his little mortal life… Odysseus of Ithaca” And, from time to time, he also forgot that she was a sorceress. “One raised by fated love, the other raised by the repentance of sins. Though your son and this one will never meet, perhaps that’s the way fate repairs what we break.”

The alpha exhaled instead, a quiet, tired sound. Maybe it was the way the child smiled in Circe’s arms, utterly content, as if he’d found the place he was meant to belong.

He just wanted to go home, and maybe… the infant was already home. The alpha stepped closer, brushing a thumb against the baby’s cheek one last time.

“Fine, I don’t have a saying at this anyway,” he said quietly. And to those words, the goddess smiled, raising an eyebrow with taunt.

“There are many modes of control Odysseus. You should know this by now… who knows, maybe showing one act of kindess leads to kinder souls down the road.” Her expression softened after kissing the adopted pup. “But don’t worry, he’ll know his story and we will take good care of him. The first and last man this island will ever see growing old.”

And like that, the men left Circe’s island, the sorceress and the nymphs watching the ship fade in the distance. The golden eyes of the woman turned to the baby left in her care and hummed happy.

“Perhaps the world needs more compassion and love, and who knows… maybe one day the world won’t need a puppeteer no more…” she placed a finger delicatedly on the baby’s nose, making him to wake up and look at her to smile, a golden twinkle in his eyes, “…or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more.”

Darkness of the night covered them, but still, the natural light of the stars and the moon lightened enough to see Penelope’s still form and Odysseus’s tired face.

For a while, neither of them spoke. He had finished the story minutes ago, and it still seemed to echo in the air. Penelope stared at the sheets between them, her fingers tightening slightly in the linen.

So much pain wrapped in one tale. So many ghosts in the shape of children.

No wonder… no wonder he had been so shaken when Telemachus told them all about his pregnancy.

No wonder why doubts and fears were still rooting a bit inside him. The dread that another child might be lost to the sea, to the gods, to him.

Her throat felt tight and the queen discovered that she didn’t trust her voice yet.

Odysseus’ hands were restless against his knees. He looked smaller now, his scent, perhaps invisible for his beloved, was faintly tinged with worry.

“Penelope…”

Just her name, low and uncertain. It was rare, hearing uncertainty from him. She sighed softly, finally lying down and patting the space beside her.

Too many emotions for a day, she thought.

He obeyed, fearing his wife’s silence. When his body settled beside hers, she turned toward him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder, arms circling him in quiet understanding.

Forgiveness? She wasn’t sure. As a mother and now a soon to be grandmother? This was asking to much of her. Still, she needed to wrap her head around all of it, especially the terrible truth about the baby, Prince Hector's son, that her husband... the thing that still haunted him after all this time. She would be terrified if it didn't though.

“Thank you… for telling me.”

Odysseus exhaled, shuddering. Penelope didn’t say I forgive you, but her hand over his heart said enough.

Chapter Text

The kingdom experienced a moment of great joy when news began to spread through the streets, from the mouths of nobles and their servants, of a new heir growing in the womb of the omegan prince of Ithaca. Obviously there was sadness lying underneath many, because, just like the king’s sister, so much joy could easily remember the losses the people and families were still mourning at heart. Many were trying to move on, a few others were still depressed, and many others were resentful about the little answers they had about the death of their loved ones.

Ctimene was walking through the gardens, trying to keep her mind occupied when she heard two voices she knew well by now.

Oh, it’s those two. I should go.

But she didn’t. Instead, walking even more silently, she got behind one of the garden trees and decided to spy on the lovebirds, peeking cautious from the trunk.

The prince was braiding the black hair of the noble, the head of the oldest young man resting comfortable over his legs. They were taking a break from all the political affairs they had been solving in those days, all of them related with their little one to come.

“I have to thank our kiddo,” Antinous smiled and waited until Telemachus looked back at him, “Your thighs are filling up beautifully because of the pregnancy.”

The omega scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking attention once more to the braiding.

“You are a perverted man, you’re helpless.”

“Who said anything about lewd things, horny brat? I was talking about how comfortable your legs are now,” and to prove his point he moved in his place, to accommodate better.

“Yeah right. Do you really think I’ll buy that?” Telemachus hummed, finishing the braid and taking another strand to start a new one. “Your father is such a liar,” whispered, knowing fully well Antinous was listening.

“Hey, don’t start teaching our pup to take sides. That's not fair.”

“You hear that? He is using you as an excuse for his naughty behavior,” Telemachus kept teasing, smiling and raising an eyebrow.

The alpha growled and carefully pushed the prince into the grass, making him giggle, his face bright and not regretting anything, while the older man was caging him right against the greenery.

“Take it back and maybe, I won’t make you pay dearly, Tele.”

“Oh my! How dreadful! Antinous and Telemachus, enemies again!” dramatized the prince, placing a hand on his forehead to feign distress, “The big bad wolf will take revenge on me? I wonder what will the baby wolf think about it when the tale gets told…”

The alpha chuckled in his position above Telemachus and placed his body better so the growing each day larger stomach of the omega was not being pressed in any way. The royal’s knees were slightly bent as he were there lying with his back on the grass, receiving perfectly the slight weight of his mate’s body.

Antinous head then tilted slightly forward, bringing his face closer to the other’s and making the prince to half-lid his eyes and stare in such deep intimate closeness. The omega placed softly grasped the other’s forearm as their playful and arrogant smiles kept adding to the sense of mischief and mutual feelings.

“What about you, huh? What will our baby say when I tell them the story of how the Prince fell for the big bad wolf? Shouldn’t you be the one worried for setting a bad example?”

Their faces already very close, got even closer, almost touching foreheads, noses just a breath apart. And the smiles that bloomed between them were so filled with warmth and comfort.

“I should be worried if the big bad wolf hadn't become what he once was: charming, funny, charismatic, strong, protective, arrogant, and with something that even I can't explain.”

The nobleman placed all his weight in one arm to raise his hand and pinch roughly the royal’s nose, making him whine in answer.

“We’ll see what our child thinks about it.”

Telemachus gasped, looking down and then turned excitedly to see Antinous, blue gems sparkling.

“Why don’t you ask them right now?”

“Huh?”

“Anti, they just moved…”

The alpha looked in quick sequence between Telemachus’ eyes and abdomen, not deciding on what to do now. “Wait… you mean, move like… move, inside your womb?”

“How else, you dumb man?”

“Oh… Oh… I… W-What… what should I do now?”

Honestly, Telemachus found adorable such an uncertainty from his mate. A sweet expression crossed his features as the free hand searched for the alpha’s hand that had just pinched his nose.

“Here, give me your hand. Let’s see if your heir wants to say hello to their father.”

Antinous let himself be guided, though his fingers trembled slightly as Telemachus drew his hand downward. Even over the chiton, the warmth and the curve was still unreal somehow. The alpha swallowed hard, eyes wide, not really sure what he should be looking out to feel in his palm right now.

How could he know when his son or daughter was moving?

Telemachus bit back a grin. “Calm down, you look like you’re approaching a wild boar.”

“I feel like I might spook them,” Antinous muttered, leaning closer resting his forehead on his mate’s, holding his breathing while trying to notice a faint movement, the earlier cockiness abandoned somewhere between excitement and panic.

Telemachus snorted.

“They’re inside me, not grazing on the meadow.”

“Hush, I’m concentrating,” Antinous hissed and Telemachus laughed outright at the seriousness in his tone. “Tele! I’m trying to feel them! Your body is moving like…”

Then, right there, on Telemachus’ abdomen, something shifted beneath it. A soft, but sudden push. Almost like a muffled thud.

Antinous froze, registering the movement. Telemachus eyes down there focused again on the shocked obsidian ones, soft curve on his face widening with the reaction.

“There, did you feel it? Someone’s happy to hear you.”

The nobleman’s mouth fell slightly open, eyes lost in the prince’s chin but not even seeing a thing, every breath stolen right out of him.

“By… by the gods. That was… that was them? A-are you sure?”

“Mm-hm.” Telemachus looked unbearably smug. “Your child is already kicking you for poking their mother’s nose. Shame on you, Antinous of Ithaca, shame on you.”

Antinous gave him a raised eyebrow. “Oh come on, that’s not even a good argument. That was… Tele, be serious.”

“But I am serious,” Telemachus teased, reaching up to flick the tip of Antinous’s ear and making the alpha to grumble. “You’ve just been scolded by someone who doesn’t even breathe on their own yet.”

Antinous blew some air, mocking about it, but then, he was torn once more between surprise and wonder when another kick forced both their eyes down.

“I don’t even know what to say… It feels weird. Does it hurt?”

Telemachus softened instantly, the teasing melting into something warm as he shook his head in response. His hand covered Antinous’, holding it firmly in place over the tiny movement repeating again.

“I know,” he whispered. “It makes it real, doesn’t it?”

The baby moved again as if agreeing, and Antinous let out a breathless laugh. “That’s unbelievable,” he whispered. “Not even born and they’re already siding with their mother… harsh.”

Telemachus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the alpha’s cheek, warm and playful. “Told you they would.”

Antinous blew onto his face, making Telemachus to close his eyes. “Just wait, it won’t be that funny anymore if they inherit your temper, wolfie.”

Telemachus groaned dramatically as his mate helped him to stand up so both of them could go back into their duties.

Ctimene watched them leave and placed her hand on her chest, tears running down her cheeks. It had been so sweet and yet, at the same time, it had hurt her so much.

She really didn't like feeling that jealousy in her stomach, but she couldn't help it. Telemachus had his partner, and now he also had another family member that would soon be with them.

After waiting so long, it hurt to be the only one in the story who had been left alone and suffering for not having been rewarded for her patience and loyalty.

Why was the world so cruel to her? What made her different from Penelope, for example? She loved her, but lately she had been avoiding the queen. The image of the woman who, after twenty years of waiting, had regained her husband and her happiness... well, it didn't sit well with her, even if it hurt because she loved Penelope very much, as much as the older sister she never had.

They stood in the middle of the storm together, and both were able to understand their sorrow and hope. But now, Ctimene felt she wouldn’t be able to do it no more. Maybe she had even forgotten about it.

Who knew. Penelope wanted to spend some time with her but Ctimene could see how she was also trying to give her the space she considered she needed to heal. It was sweet from her, but, space was not what she needed.

She needed answers, she needed to mourn properly and close that period. But her brother remained silent. And as Ctimene walked back into her room to weave some more, she wondered, how much longer would she hang in there before surrendering to the gloom all over her that was trying to extinguish how little light she felt in her still fighting.

In the meanwhile, everyone could feel the shift in tension thickening the stone walls, and it was no longer the suitors’ fault. It was the trifle and alphas being territorial the thing that now made both servants and visitors uncomfortable.

Antinous and Odysseus snarled at each other aggressively whenever their paths crossed, a silent exchange of growls and bared teeth. It went far beyond Antinous having once courted Penelope. It was the call of fangs and flesh itself, an instinct as ancient as it was complicated, much more pronounced in alphas.

Didn't take much thought: Antinous was young, strong, and dangerously charismatic, a natural leader with enough presence to unsettle the king. And Odysseus hated that.

From across the hall, he watched Telemachus and Antinous retreat toward their chambers, still speaking of letters and accounts. Omega laughing softly, leaning into Antinous’ whispered remark, the latter's hand hovering at his waist, protective, possessive. Anyone else would’ve seen Aphrodite’s favor there, devotion and the sweetness of early union.

Odysseus narrowed his eyes and his mouth twisted.

Antinous would never harm Telemachus… now. That much the king had accepted. But he was a threat nonetheless, to the fragile balance Odysseus remembered, and to his own place in his son’s life. Every shared smile felt like a quiet theft, affection and loyalties shifting in ways he could neither control nor fully predict.

He hated him. Well, Telemachus would glare at him with those words so, no, he hated it. The whole threat sensation that came with the young man.

Odysseus’s jaw tightened as he recalled what had angered him most during the council’s deliberations, before the trials. Right after his explanation of Antinous and Telemachus’ involvement, the likelihood of a mating bond soon to come… The council had been delighted.

Antinous was strong. Perhaps not as cultured or politically refined as the prince, who had been raised for rule, but ambitious in a way that commanded attention. He knew how to command a room, and when to listen. Rare qualities on their own, striking when combined.

He learned fast. Too fast.

Odysseus had watched him for weeks now, absorbing logistics, trade routes, battle formations, and diplomatic customs with an earnest hunger that struck uncomfortably close to the king’s own youth. Yet unlike the boy he once was, Antinous carried presence, raw and undeniable might.

No wonder why he had been the leader of the suitors back in the day.

But that wasn’t all, there was something, something really nerve-wrecking for the king. He couldn’t name it, but he just knew Antinous was not like the other alphas.

Odysseus knew alphas. He had lived among them for a decade, drowning in pheromones, enduring brutes like Agamemnon and admiring strength and loyalty of warriors like Diomedes. His instincts were certain of it: Antinous was different, but it unnerved him not knowing how.

Alphas weren’t that controlled of their pheromones, the king wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or instinctive, but he had been watching, and the youngster had a terrifying control on his nature whenever he got very angry or pissed off. If he didn’t consider the issue a threat, his pheromones didn’t reveal his emotional state at all.

And not only that, Odysseus had been so spooked and even hissed feeling threatened when he realized after the third time, that somehow, Antinous could suppress his presence and pheromones at will. Just like an experienced omega could do.

That was not normal, it was antinatural and a danger for Odysseus.

What if Antinous decided he wanted the throne? What if the greed and arrogance was too much and engulfed him entirely?

He was still reluctant to even consider the man as family. Telemachus loved him deeply, that much was undeniable, but Antinous always kept his deepest thoughts and ideas deep under key of consciousness. Cunning, observant, always measuring his steps. Arrogance was his most visible flaw, yet even that did little to blunt how dangerous he could be.

And the king always reacted as such.

Telemachus made certain those two were never left alone and snappish. He feared that one day, if he wasn’t careful, Antinous might pull the wrong thread in his father’s patience and then, a bloody fight would break between them. Especially now, when his alpha had grown fiercely protective, not only of him but of their unborn child. Lovely thing when it wasn’t frying Telemachus’ nerves regarding his father.

As a matter of fact, as the days passed, the entire palace became witness to transitions that were marking the shape of years to come. Some, like the old head of the guard, watched with raised brows at the attitudes from both Telemachus and Antinous, others like Eurycleia and Penelope’s faithful maids smiled knowingly, hearts softening at every small gesture.

The consort prince in particular acted different after Telemachus’ scent became even sweeter, like some sort of mysterious nectar. Antinous growing attentive in new, instinctive ways related to the pregnancy period.

The most precious of them, in Telemachus' opinion, happened every few nights. Antinous would cup his swollen abdomen with both hands as if warming it, humming low in his chest, and making sure his pack was safe. A deep, rumbling purr followed, meant to soothe, to protect. Sometimes Telemachus pretended to sleep just to listen. It steadied him.

Then there was something similar to the omega nesting behavior. And to be honest, that one Telemachus hadn’t anticipated. Raised without a father, he hadn’t known alpha fathers did such things. His mother’s giggles when witnessing the young alpha annoyed and growling at the servants for moving something he had specifically placed somewhere else, was the preamble of Penelope explaining that Odysseus used to be the same when she was pregnant with him.

Antinous began to rearrange their shared spaces with meticulous care: pushing the bed a fraction closer to the hearth, adding more blankets in anticipation for Telemachus’ nesting behavior and cataloguing every room for potential danger.

Obviously, if Antinous was already presenting this sort of attitudes, Telemachus was not far behind. Although he was well prevented about those, after all, he went to deliver the news to his grandfather and to his dear Eumaeus personally.

The memory still made him smile. Laertes had clasped his hands, smiling brightly in his old by age face, blessing both him and his mate, making sure the prince knew they could go to him for whatever they needed. And well, Eumaeus, after confirming this was truly Telemachus' wish, broke into tears, overjoyed at the thought of caring for yet another member of the royal pack he loved as his own.

It was then when the swineherd explained a few of the many changes Telemachus would probably live while being expecting his litter. At first the signs were quiet, but as the moons passed, the omega increased in intensity because of the hormones and nature’s predisposition.

Scenting from his mate had always been something pleasant for Telemachus, but suddenly, it became shameless. Telemachus rubbed his neck against Antinous’ pillow before sleeping, tucking his face into the alpha’s shoulder to inhale the perfume of his bonded one whenever he felt tired or uneasy. The most intense moment, however, was always whenever Antinous came back from the outside world, smelling of other people, or even other environments.

Telemachus then proceded to pounce over him, nipping at the alpha’s scent gland with soft, insistent bites until his mate’s natural scent flooded back to dominance in bodily response to the omega triggering this function.

Of course, for a man like Antinous, this was the peak of delightfulness. He loved for Telemachus to smell like him and be this needy for his scent, this proved the entire world, the royal was his for as long as they were alive.

Once more, old habits die hard. And let’s face it, Antinous might be a redeemed man, but he was still himself. Don’t expect for him to be a saint, because he was absolutely not. Especially with his past already accepted by himself.

The second behavior Eumaeus told Telemachus about, was something that even if it had no name, he liked to call emotional nesting. Why? Because some omegas slowly found themselves collecting things without noticing. In Telemachus’ case, a soft cloak from Penelope’s, a carved wooden owl Amphinomus had gifted him long ago, a golden necklace Peisistratus had given him as congratulation for his bonding with Antinous. And all these little tokens ended up gathered around either in the nightstand or directly in his desk.

When Antinous teased him about it, Telemachus always puffed up in outrage.

“I do not hoard things.”

“You have five blankets. Two from your mother’s room, one from ours, and two that you made me scent.”

“I’m cold at night.”

“You always end up with no covers these days, Tele.”

“Shut up.”

And of course, the third and most notorious one: the sudden need for closeness. Telemachus now sought the warmth of touch and love gestures like a plant turning toward sunlight, from his parents, yes, but primarily from his mate.

If Antinous stood too far away when that need struck, it felt wrong. So Telemachus reached for him in every way he could: with his hand, his voice, by drifting closer until their arms brushed, by leaning just enough to be felt. And when Antinous responded, giving the attention so readily, the tension melted from Telemachus' shoulders.

Okay yes, the omega accepted this might be sharpened by his traumas and fears, as well as his past loneliness, the lack of quality time with his family due to his status and everything that had happened, the whole issue of abandonment that whether you like it or not his father's absence had caused him, and a few more things floating there.

But even so, Telemachus grounded himself in one truth: he had never been this clingy and needy before. Of course, the thought came while his cheek rested against Antinous’s back, arms wrapped around him as the alpha studied, unbothered by the weight, as if Telemachus belonged there.

Still, despite the chaos of instincts and hormones, something about it all felt… right. Balanced. Natural. Overwhelmed, yes. Exhausted, certainly. But it was still such an experience, and he was drinking it entirely.

She opened her eyes and suddenly realized something was wrong. The sun was bright up in the sky, there were babbles and… happiness all around. Ctimene stood up from the soft grass and blinked in confusion.

A few meters ahead, she could see her brother, Penelope, and Telemachus. Odysseus was laughing carefree, his gaze younger and so free of pain and trauma. Penelope was also laughing, her face untouched by the passage of time, hugging the alpha from behind. Telemachus had a beautiful smile on his face as his father lifted him into the air.

The woman stared at the family, confused. A voice at her side made her jump, her eyes filling with tears that she refused to let fall.

“What’s wrong with you? Had a bad dream?”

The beta gulped and clutched her hands on her chest. Slowly, she turned around and finally, the droplets fell into her himation.

“Eurylochus…”

The dark skinned alpha raised an eyebrow only to scoff and chuckle when Ctimene rushed to touch his face, feeling, missing… loving.

“Is it you? Is it you who is actually here?” one hand retreated, once more in her chest, right in the middle. “Or… I am dreaming once more?”

The dark eyes of the man looked back at the royal family, smiling gently with resignment and sorrow.

“You were always just as smart as your brother, Mene.”

The woman looked at the family and her lips tugged a pained soft smile.

“And you were always so direct with me, Eury.”

She felt the breeze, it was warm, like a perfect summer day in the early morning. She breathed in deeply and leaned on her husband’s shoulder while sighing tired.

“I wish I could stay here, in this moment of time, of our lives. We were so young, so filled with hopes and expectations of our futures.” The weight of the alpha’s head rested on hers and her smile grew, “Tell me… is there a way to stay here with you? With my brother, my sister, and my sweet Tele? And who knows… maybe mom and dad are also here.” The silence said it all, but the woman didn't want to leave it at that, so she kept talking, the scene of the parents helping the possibly two-year-old boy walk filling her heart with nostalgia. “Do you remember how we used to be a long, long time ago?”

“How far ago?” asked the man, scooping her body to place in the opening of his legs, cradling her at the same time.

It was something very private they did in their room back in the days. Eurylochus was always ashamed of how soft he became with Ctimene when they were alone.

“Well, I’ve been recalling everything,” the royal hummed, thinking as she closed her eyes for a second. “You and Polites stealing my brother, all the times you looked at me like a strange child… then when we became rivals…”

“Rivals is a strong word for an entertaining challenge with a kid,” Eurylochus said, chuckling at the elbow hitting his stomach.

“Well, this kid still managed to level up with you somehow,” gleamed with pride, Eurylochus huffing a laugh at her words, the sound warm and familiar, the sound of a home long lost. She breathed in and kept going, “and then, I recalled when I became a woman to your eyes… and after a long time  from that point on, how we fell in love.”

“You began to grow on me,” he murmured against her hair, “faster than I ever expected. Faster than I wanted to admit. At first it was a game, a way to know you better. But then, you changed, and I fell so hard for all of you.”

His head accommodated to place a kiss on her forehead. Ctimene’s smile trembled, eyes still fixed on the vision of her brother and Penelope twirling Telemachus between them.

“Help me remember, then,” she whispered, leaning back into the safety of his arms. “When did your eyes change? When did I stop being Odysseus’ little sister and start being… me?”

He chuckled again, low and fond. “You want the truth?”

“That’s all I’ve been craving for these past few days,” she admitted, voice soft, and clearly hurt.

He rested his chin on her shoulder after hearing her so wounded and purred softly, way too soft. A moment touched by the weight of knowing this reencounter only existed because she was dreaming.

“I’m not too sure myself,” he began. “All I know is the precise event. You climbed that huge fig tree your own father had planted years ago. You’d wagered Polites you could reach the top before he could.”

She snorted. “He almost fell off trying to catch up with me.”

“You pushed him with your foot, Ctimene.”

“I did not push!” she defended herself pointing up as to clarify something, “I nudged.”

“That’s worse,” he laughed, and then his voice gentled, smoothing into memory. “But what I remember most is not your reckless climbing. It was when you jumped down, barely a scratch on you, and looked at me with that fire in you that not even your brother possesses. Gods, Mene… in that moment you were fire. Not the king’s baby sister, not a growing pup. A brilliant, fearless woman. Too bright for me to look at directly.”

Her breath hitched. “Oh yeah,” she whispered, “I remember that… and you told me this in our union final event. The consummation moment… And I was angry because you didn’t tell me back then,” she pouted.

“You would’ve preened for weeks,” replied Eurylochus, a brow raising with a smile.

“I deserved to.”

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “You did,” his eyes turned a bit gloomy, “You deserved so many things.”

They watched the lovely scene of Penelope lifting Telemachus into her arms while Odysseus tickled him, the three of them glowing with a happiness that never had a chance to last. Ctimene swallowed hard, almost tempted to pray… to stay trapped in this dream forever.

“I…” she began, voice tight, “I also changed. Around you. I didn’t understand it at first.”

Eurylochus’ hand stroked her arm in that absent, familiar way he used to do in the dark, when words were too heavy but touch could still speak.

“What did you see in me?” he asked quietly.

Ctimene looked down at her hands, remembering the young man her husband once was. The bad and the good.

Stubborn, always trying to act braver than he felt, quick to act without thinking when desperation and fear took hold. But also…

“You were strong and loyal,” she said softly. “Not just to my brother. But to everyone. You loved those who earned your respect. You’d fight anyone to protect those under your charge, even when you pretended not to care. And you were patient,” she added with a small laugh. “Gods, so patient. I annoyed you endlessly on purpose.”

“You did.”

“I stole your sandals once. And I told everyone once you screamed when you saw snakes.”

“You lied, Mene. But like your brother, you lied well.”

Their laughter mingled, aching with longing.

“But,” she whispered, leaning back against his chest, “I remember the day you looked at me differently. Truly looked at me.”

“When was that?”

“The day you came back from training with some alpha friends you had back in the island of Same,” she said. “You walked into the courtyard tired, covered in dust, and you froze. Just froze. As if you’d forgotten you even had feet.”

The alpha nodded, noticing how the royals were slowly getting ready to go back home, to the palace. Ctimene’s words choked a gasp on his throat nevertheless.

“I was talking with Polites, and you kept staring at my face. Well… actually my mouth,” she smiled with tease, “I wonder why.”

He hid his face in her shoulder, quite embarrassed.

“I thought I was being subtle.”

“You were not.”

Eurylochus’ grumbled before his hand cupped hers, his thumb moving in circles just like he did a thousand times when alive.

“And after that,” he said, voice low, “every time you smiled at me… I felt like Eros had been smiling when he shot the arrow. He had to be.”

Ctimene closed her eyes, tears sliding freely now.

“I tried so hard to get your attention after that,” she admitted. “I braided my hair differently. I wore the chiton you complimented once. I found excuses to be near, even when you trained.”

“You hit me in the face with a practice spear. Twice.”

“I wanted to impress you!”

“You almost broke my nose once.”

“Yet you still married me,” she whispered, her voice breaking into a smile.

“I would have married you with both my legs broken,” he murmured. “Don’t you know that?”

Her heart twisted painfully, but she leaned into him, holding onto the warmth she knew did not belong to reality.

“Then… why you didn’t return?”

The alpha furrowed his brow with remorse and hugged her tightly.

“If I could tell you, I would. But you know your brother holds the truth. I am…”

“Just a memory…” more tears flowed. “Yeah… I know. I also thought I wanted to know… I mean I do, I need to know… but… somehow… I think I’ll feel even more than now… maybe even more than sadness and rage… Not sure I want that.”

For a moment, they simply existed, finally just the two of them. The sun almost setting in the distance. Eurylochus’ arms tightened around her, just slightly.

“Mene…”

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

“You know you can’t stay.”

She shook her head, eyes shut tight.

“Just a little longer,” she pleaded. “Please, Eury. Just… a little more.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, feather light, unbearably real, and rested his forehead against hers.

“You’ll live, Ctimene. You’ll live for both of us.”

There were seconds of silence. Before Ctimene’s whisper with dull eyes.

“I will? What if… what if I can’t?”

The alpha presence surrounded her while the answer rippled around her like water.

“Then you will permanently lose happiness just because of a difficult period of pain.”

Ctimene clung to him, even as the warmth began to slip through her fingers.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“And I love you.”

He smiled sadly.

“I never doubted that… I’m sorry…”

The sky faded into black. And Eurylochus’ form dissolved.

Ctimene finished recounting her dream-tinged memory and waited patiently for her companions to give their opinions. Chloe had listened attentively to every word, while the other four beta women had different reactions. One of them was sobbing silently, two of them showed sympathy and deep understanding for the king's sister's feelings, while the last one had remained thoughtful.

They were gathered now at the only female alpha’s home, Chloe a gracious and attentive host. At first, it was just Ctimene and her, since—after meeting more than once in the town, as they frequented the same places to clear their minds and escape the heaviness that weighed on them—they decided that they wanted not only to get to know each other better, but also to offer each other the companionship and help they desperately needed to overcome the heartbreaking loss of their partners and their futures.

Through Chloe, others eventually joined them, forming a small circle of shared mourning. Surviving grief together proved easier to endure together than alone. In general Ithaca was trying to move on, yet its people still struggled beneath the weight of lost lovers, siblings, and friends, naturally so.

“Well, that sounds like a lovely and painful dream altogether,” the alpha sighed, breaking the silence as she stood up to go prepare some more tea. “How did it feel when you woke up?” she asked gently.

“Like being pulled from warm water into cold air,” Ctimene answered after a moment. “I was… grateful. And furious. And empty.” A weak breath escaped her, and tears welled again in her eyes. “All at once.”

“We’ve all been there princess,” mumbled the one that had been sobbing, “At least you saw him in a beautiful dream… all I see is my husband and sons begging for my help in the darkness.”

They all remained silent at those words. The darkness part was so relatable, no one knew what happened, how the men died, they were in the shadows at the tragedy. What uncertainty can make to a person, is more devastating that the pain and mourning itself.

“And seeing them again?” Another one asked timidly. “Did it bring peace… or did it tear something open?”

She hadn’t been able to dream or remind fully her loved one. She knew he was her eldest brother, but her omegan mother had broken so hard when finally knowing her son was dead, that her brain, desperate to protect itself, sealed every memory of him away. She was the youngest of the women reunited in Chloe’s house and she was mourning the loss of memories, hoping to get them back one day.

“It does both,” the oldest of them all admitted, silent until that precise moment. “For a moment, it feels like you want to stay there with them forever… but then… you start feeling the emptiness, the realization it’s something fleeting, lacking of reality, and then that’s when you wake up.”

The others nodded, even Chloe as she was getting the tea and the cups to pour it for her guests. The oldest woman looked at them, letting go of the reins of her sadness, after all, people there understood here, there was no reason to pretend strength.

“I dream of my brother. He never speaks, just looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something important… and I never know what it is.” She took the cup and chuckled, tears falling from her cheeks to the ground. “Maybe it’s my regret of not hugging him more, of not letting go of all those stupid fights from the past and saying that I loved him. I’ll never be able to in this life now.”

The thoughtful woman, the one who had remained silent finally spoke, her tone careful, edged with something that Ctimene’s inner beta reacted to. Could sense it, something… something odd.

“At least your dead return to you kindly,” said with a raised eyebrow as her delicate and slender hands took the cup to her lips, “I am surrounded by them and they do not come at all.”

The others looked at her with pity, but Ctimene narrowed slightly her eyes at the words. It could be understood as if she had lost everyone, her tone cloaking pain beneath indifference. But Ctimene was almost certain that the indifference was real and that it was not exactly a mocking comment, but more literal than the others were understanding. The woman had only joined them that very day, invited by Chloe after finding her sitting in front of the ocean, both talking about death, the meaning of life, and the impact of loss.

Ctimene’s inner beta shifted uncomfortable and urged her to pay attention, real close attention. And she did. The stranger had the longest and wildest black braided hair she had ever seen; as she licked her thin lips to clean the tea, the woman noticed sharp canines even if she was no alpha or beta. Freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin in ways society might deem unappealing, but in reality she was beautiful, so tempting to the eye. And speaking of eyes, she had striking brown ones, but as Ctimene stared at them intently, she realized they were not entirely light brown as it seemed at first, and when the woman gaze placed on hers, she realized the shade leaned closer to red.

The woman smiled at her, not departing her eyes until it was too much for the beta and looked away, taking refuge in her cup of tea, sipping as her inner beta kept walking in circles disturbed by the new woman’s presence.

“…Do you think he tells us everything?” one of them asked, hesitantly. And such pondering question snatched Ctimene’s attention fully.

She felt it before the name was spoken along with a tightening in her chest.

“The king,” the woman clarified, quieter now as all the eyes were over her now. “I mean the king Odysseus.”

Silence again, this time sharper as all the eyes carefully and almost not wanting to drifted to Ctimene. The king’s sister.

“I don’t trust it,” said the freckled woman bluntly before closing her eyes and making a gesture with her hand in the air. “Six hundred men go to war. One comes back. And we’re told the sea took the rest?” Her lips pressed thin, looking at her cup deep in thought. “Convenient.”

A murmur rippled through the group, unease, agreement, discomfort. The reality none of them had dared to speak outloud.

“He was their leader,” the sobbing woman said, anger cracking through her grief. “My mate followed him because he believed in him. Because he trusted him, and my sons followed their father.”

Chloe looked away, closing her eyes as she thought of her almost mate. How it took years for him to open up but once he trusted her, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Tricking her even to save her from war… not thinking what would she feel about. She smiled with sorrow, yeah… her Phaedra was like that, jumping into protecting those he cared for without thinking further ahead, taking the pain or consequences because better him than others.

Never thought about it before but… Did he felt betrayed and angry when they had decided to go to war together and then she convinced everyone he was pregnant so he could be safe? She literally did the same he always did for others. The alpha grunted and massaged her forehead. It was complicated, why such desitions had to be so dual and conflictive?

Noticing she had gained the group’s attention, she smiled as an apology and said something else to prove she was listening the whole time.

“Well, I think we can cut the king some slack, do you believe he wanted to come home alone? Do you really believe any man of his title and responsibility would choose that?”

“That doesn’t mean he’s blameless,” Ctimene shot back, anger features on her face as she looked at the liquid on her cup.

“No,” Chloe agreed, the other woman drinking while looking at them going. “But war is not a simple thing. Nor is the sea, your highness.” Ctimene raised her eyes, for Chloe now only referred to her with her title when she was talking something serious out of respect. “Storms don’t ask for names and neither do monsters.” Her gaze softened, because, as an alpha, she had a different perspective as them all. She knew how hard it was to live in the world, perhaps not as a man, but the closest thing to the male kind. “Sometimes survival isn’t a reward. It’s a sentence.”

Ctimene’s breath hitched at that and she frowned, considering such things. No one could blame her to be focusing on the pain that kept stabbing her on the inside, but in reality, she had been closing her eyes at Odysseus pain, at the amount of times he had to stop whatever he was doing to take a deep breath, or how angry and surrounded by darkness he looked when he hunted with his bow or practiced in the courtyard.

How many times she could see him awake in the hours where she had to walk around the palace to deal with the cold mourning in her heart growing colder by the day.

“He doesn’t sleep,” she said quietly, all eyes turned to her in expectation. “He walks at night like the ground is still shifting beneath him. I’ve seen him flinch at thunder and grab any sharp object nearby during long storms. Whatever happened out there didn’t leave him untouched.”

The eldest woman placed her empty cup in the closest table, looking at the flames of the hearth from Chloe’s home. “My father used to say, that those who return from war carry the dead inside them. Maybe that’s his punishment, an invisible punishment from the eyes of us all.”

No one argued with that. Chloe sat right next to Ctimene and reached for her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re not wrong for missing him,” she said. “And you’re not wrong for wanting answers. We all do. Grief doesn’t always need a culprit.” She paused, to look at them all and added softly, “Sometimes it just needs witnesses.”

The women smiled even behind the pain and the princess felt better, letting a few tears go along with her gentle smile.

“Well that is lovely, and even I must admit it is true.” The sudden voice breaking the comfortable silence had drawing every gaze toward the freckled woman, her cup now empty as she sat elegantly apart. “Pain lessens when instead of looking for someone to blame, one chooses to feel it, treat it, and eventually let go,” she grunted and sighed, “dull process in my opinion but well, the truth must be acknowledged.”

Her expression chilled Ctimene’s nerves. She was not smiling as such, but the beta could sense she was close to, even if she looked serious and deep in thought. Ctimene knew Odysseus, knew the cunningness of her own mother, the way her grandfather Autolycus could charm and deceive without even hinting at the prying attentive eyes.

“And well, speaking about the truth, how can you be sure that the king was not to blame for the deaths?”

It was a calling for discord. The princess gulped, suddenly remembering the warning she gave them when they met her.

“Pleasure to meet you all, I only wished the circumstances where different. Please do not take it personally if at any point I say something contrary to what most people think. Not only am I sharp-minded, I am also devoted to the goddess of discord.”

“There is too few of us, but I think every once in a while people needs to think for themselves and disagree, how boring a world with all in peace and harmony would be don't you think?”

The worst thing was that, even if Ctimene had a thing or two to reply back then, right now, the woman was not really telling lies. They knew nothing about the death of their loved ones.

A hush followed the questioning words, not the comfortable kind this time, but one that stretched too tight. The freckled woman tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the air itself.

“We speak of storms and monsters,” she said calmly, taking back her empty cup, her fingers idly tracing the rim of it, “as if leadership ends the moment chaos begins. But a king is not only judged by victories, he is measured by the weight of those who follow him.” Her gaze flicked briefly around the room, never settling too long on any single face. “Or so important people have told me. Wise ones, honorable ones, mighty ones. They seem to agree.”

That same sensation she got when someone was choosing their words too carefully, when truth and intent were braided together. It reminded Ctimene uncomfortably of Odysseus when he lied far too well. She said nothing, society and her own smartness had taught her to listen and remain silent.

The woman’s voice softened, sympathetic and with soft features as she continued. “I am not saying he wished them dead. Only that responsibility does not vanish simply because the sea is cruel.”

One of the woman nodded slowly, another’s jaw tightened and the others remained deep in thought, the youngest one fidgeting nervous with her himation.

“It is easier to name fate, or the gods, or the waves… than to look at a man who returned and ask why he did so alone.”

Ctimene understood every single of those words in the last phrase. Felt it twist inside her, not anger or agreement, but something more dangerous: consideration. Because yes, it was precisely her refusal to go into easier paths what kept feeding her stubbornness and persistence to make her brother spit the truth at her.

Soon after, the gathering shifted to ease the tension, as these things often did. Chloe rose to tend the hearth, adding more olivewood to the fire. And some of the women brought out baskets of wool they had brought for after their reunion, their hands moving out of habit as they began carding and spinning, the soft rasp of fibers filling the space between heavier thoughts. It was what women did when words grew too sharp, they gave their hands something gentler to hold.

The softer chat emerged, the older one explaining techniques and smiling while helping the youngest one to learn those same secrets she was revealing.

Ctimene found herself beside the freckled woman as she reached for something in one of the baskets to join them.

“You speak boldly,” said, carefully, as they worked the wool between their fingers. “Not many would, in this small island and after, well, everything that has happened.” The woman smiled faintly, but Ctimene would not remain without answer. Had a lot of that back at the palace already. “Do you believe this to be true? That my brother should bear all of it?”

The spindle turned smoothly between the woman’s fingers even if she wasn’t looking at it, her eyes were on Ctimene’s hazel ones.

“You are such a smart delightful treat, your highness… let me guess, if we take the influence of your family, particularly your brother… Athena devotee?”

Ctimene nodded, looking for a second at the wool before regaining her focus. “I am. Our matron goddess has been good with us.”

The woman hummed, acknowledging her answer.

“It is delightful to find someone as sharp and awake as you. I must say it took me by surprise, it is not usual to find in a human both abundant intelligence and a honed inner instinct.” She swayed her head in good spirits, “Once more, Athena devotees prove to be quite interesting to chat with for us few Eris followers.” Ctimene opened her mouth but soon closed it, as she noticed the woman hadn’t finish speaking. “I believe that when men march under one name, they do not die as strangers. He robbed many others of their husbands, their fathers, their brothers, or their best friends. Does the crown truly think we would not be bitter about that?”

The words settled like ash, maybe and particularly because even if she was in the same suffering and sphere, she was part of the crown as well.

“You speak as though you’ve thought about this deeply.”

“I have,” the woman said simply. “And I have learned that grief does not seek fairness. It seeks a shape, a face. From both sides of the coin. I am sure the king Odysseus is seeking as well.”

Ctimene’s chest tightened.

“What do you think he hides?” she asked before she could stop herself. Maybe because of her beliefs, but the woman had such a pull.

Her eyes flicked to her, sharp, curious, and over all pleased.

“Oh, I think every survivor hides something. Sometimes out of shame. Sometimes out of mercy. Sometimes because the truth would shatter what little order remains.” She looked at Ctimene with a smile that made the beta to gulp hard and to slightly shiver. “Maybe, he believes that the truth will claw the little things that remain from what he once considered home. After all… we did have a mating bonding ritual not so long ago, and word says that the heir to the throne has been blessed with safety regarding your family’s house for the years to come.

She frowned. It was obvious she was talking about Telemachus, her mate… and their unborn pup, and so, her interest gave her goosebumbs as she dived into the subject.

“I am really curious about it. For what I have heard your brother and the prince consort do not like each other.”

Ctimene stiffened almost imperceptibly. She knew nothing about Telemachus’ mate, only that, when he was a suitor, he was beyond dangerous. But now, her nephew protected him and plenty parts of his past with a ferocity she only had seen with his mother or at the badmouthing of his father’s name.

“They are… different,” she replied carefully. “But the king wouldn’t harm him if there is no reason to.”

“Different men often become enemies,” the woman murmured. “Especially when both are bathed with blood, the difference residing in one of them crowned in it.” She tilted her head, mumbling to herself. “Things will get intriguing from now on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well princess, the world does not forget and even less forgive.” Her eyes gleamed, not cruelly, but with fascination. “Revenge has a long memory. And your nephew’s child, well, will be the most recent infant in the line of Odysseus, the one who in the end, brought down the impenetrable city of Troy.” The woman shrugged her shoulders at Ctimene’s still confused expression. “Forgive me. Grief in me has a way of wandering into places it should not.”

Ctimene wanted to know what she was talking about, it felt important, but the silence dictated the moment had passed, especially after the gentle laughter of the women when Chloe made a remark about something funny she heard at the market.

“I’m sorry… I don’t believe I caught your name earlier,” Ctimene whispered, her hands getting more the hang of their work.

The woman looked up, her smile blooming fully at last. “Aeris. I was lucky enough to be named similar to the goddess I admire most.”

The princess nodded and sighed. There was a whole thread knot in her emotions and decisions, she was wondering what to do now. Listen to Chloe and try a different approach that also involved Odysseus’ struggles? Or go for the logical and realistic thing that Aeris was pointing out?

Anyway, she needed answers, so, perhaps trying both methods could show results sooner or later. She was willing to wait a little bit, but the thing she wasn’t sure, was if her heart would bare all the pain in the meantime.

The days were shifting slowly, and the servants around the palace were growing impatient as well as excited. Maybe male omegas didn’t get as big and swollen as women, but it was clear that the prince was getting slower and easily tired with every inch of his abdomen getting larger.

He even had to stop training at one point. He couldn’t keep up with his mate, because indeed, those two really liked to perfect each other’s abilities together. It provided the perfect opportunity to fight, to tease and to act as rivals, especially since both were so damn competitive.

Of course Antinous didn’t waste his chance to mock Telemachus the first time the royal had to stop to catch his breath when they were just practicing sword hits on the poorly kept dummy made by the omega years ago. The prince answered annoyed and throwing curses but the nobleman just increased his teasing, running away and chuckling every time his mate hissed because he couldn’t run to punch him or bite him anymore.

Athena watched from time to time in her owl form, and she had to admit she was satisfied to see Telemachus kept practicing till the last minute. The moment when Antinous got closer to take his mate’s wooden sword away from grasp, the owl closed her eyes and flew away. Such thing marked the end of her rounds for the time being, the goddess would mostly wait for the family issues to calm down a little, after all she was a goddess and had other business to attend to. Other heroes to see, own family drama to attend, legends waiting to be written so her name would be praised far and wide.

The Ithacan family, despite how much she cherished them, was just another bunch of mortals in her agenda. She had a special bond with them, but she would never be attached to any of their lives.

In her absence, things between Odysseus and Ctimene did not heal, they worsened. The fightings got way more heated, when it wasn’t Ctimene lashing out, driven by desperation and pain, it was Odysseus not able to handle the anxiousness of rejection and solitude along with the feeling he wasn’t ready to face the consequences of his actions.

The thing was, he would never feel ready. He was postponing the inevitable. Yet, he had become a legend defying the impossible, so, he still tried.

Odysseus resorted to lying to Penelope, for she had warned him that if he didn’t tell Ctimene what had happened to her husband, then she would, with what he had already hinted to her on the day he returned to Ithaca. The alpha claimed he had already said some things to his sister in the midst of their many arguments, but, skilled in his language and vocabulary, he shaped his words as if he had already mentioned some important things to Ctimene, such as having traded friends like objects he could use, and how he hurt more lives than he could count with his choices.

His intelligence had always gotten him out of trouble, always able to lie and weave a careful web to avoid not only being discovered, but also to ensure that everything went in his favor. And he thought he would succeed, for he handled the situation in such a way that Penelope, even before speaking to Ctimene, believed what her husband had told her: that her sister-in-law was deeply affected by the subtle hint of how her alpha had died. Therefore, and thanks to Ctimene being a soft spot for Penelope, the queen was considerate and avoided bringing up the subject of the how the second in command died, just trying to bring comfort and company about the loss for itself, and the other things Odysseus had confessed to Penelope so far.

It surely helped Penelope had no clue how his crew and friends died. The king had been extremely careful not to mention it to absolutely no one.

The alpha relaxed when the scheme worked out in his favor. Ctimene was way more calm than before, even looking at him with worry from time to time and, when her temper wasn’t making act of presence, even showing a bit more patient with him.

But, curse his own family abilities! Ctimene was not only incredible stubborn, refusing to not know the entirety of the truth, but also she was so clever and intuitive that Odysseus knew it was just a matter of time… eventually he would slip up, she would notice an inconsistency in his stories and his going around the table to avoid talking about the subject.

He needed for her to go back to their father’s. And, it pained him, but the only way was to shatter her hopes of ever cornering him, to make her so furious with him so she would drop her intents and return home.

And so, he acted.

It got so bad, that Ctimene resulted on the verge of an unspoken giving up, trying to bond with Odysseus. Just bond. After all, she was so tired and consumed by grief, she just wanted her brother back.

However, Odysseus was so focused on his plan, on making his sister go away so his sins could be safe, that he failed to notice how she was willing to try and forget her pain, thinking it would heal faster that way, maybe ignoring the answers and pretending was key.

Odysseus failed to see the fire no longer blazing, but tiny and quivering, little bursts of exhausted light coming from it.

That was how that day of the year arrived: Artemis Moonlight Sonata, about fourteen days before the new member of the royal family came into the world. And in such night, Ctimene’s soul finally snapped, as she and her brother got into a terrible fight over her proposal to visit her mother's grave and Odysseus refusal.

Ctimene was raging, accusing the king of choosing Penelope over visiting their mother’s resting place, of abandoning remembrance just as he had abandoned her in life. That was when Odysseus finally snapped. He screamed he couldn’t do it yet, that he couldn’t bear to remember her pain and know that he was not by her side when she needed him most, exclaiming with tears on his eyes that the guilt made even honoring her memory agonizing.

Ctimene knew this last thing to be somehow true, but still angry, she told him that he could at least honor her memory, only to open her eyes with shock at Odysseus telling her that he saw her in the underworld.  After hearing word after word of what happened, Ctimene’s hands covered her mouth and listening to her older brother, her eyes filled with tears when she learned her mother had not yet entered Elysium.

In the end, grief swallowed her whole. She screamed, sobbing violently, blaming Odysseus for their mother’s fate, calling him a coward, a failure as a son. Furious and distraught by those last claims, Odysseus shouted to just go home already and let everyone fix their own lives in peace before going to where Telemachus, Antinous, and Penelope were already waiting.

The queen hadn’t heard the words thrown at each other so, at witnessing the terrible argument, she wished Ctimene could stop suffering that much, even asking before leaving if someone should stay with her to provide comfort. However, the king knew that in such a state, Ctimene would be aggressive, so he said they should let everything to cool down, as they always did when a fight between the brothers rose.

True to her brother’s words, the woman had lashed out on some of the worried servants, ordering them to not bother her as she locked inside her room. As the night passed by, Ctimene remembered the song her alpha used to sing with her at the Sonata, so she began singing in the loneliness, bursting into tears and hiccups as her will finally snuffed out.

Time could heal, but with this conditions, it was just not happening. Odysseus’ words aided the storm she was weathering, allowing it to win, causing for his sister to not try and swim anymore just… wishing to sink.

And as a matter of terrible fact, she would have sunk into the ocean of depression and death had it not been for the Moirai deciding that a fundamental factor would occur soon that would change the outcome of her role in the story.

Soon as in, barely six days, just the day and moment when Ctimene had decided to quit trying anymore.

In the middle of a bed there was a perfectly built omegan nest, rich and delightful perfumes of both bluebell and cedarwood lulling the small babies nuzzling in the softness and warmth of a pair of bodies that could only recognize as their parents.

A soft, uncertain whine escaping tiny lips before dissolving into a breathy sigh. Then a wide and slow yawn, tiny face scrunching then relaxed again while tasting nothing in a cute way.

The softest skin still carrying the warmth of first breaths, the fragile heat of newly arrived life.

One of the pups rested against the bluebell scented chest, soothed by the steady rise and fall of the breathing and the sensation of lips kissing the forehead; the other laid cradled in the cedarwood scented arms, answering the gentle sniffing above with faint coos and stirring movements.

Even if you can't see it around you, there is always life.

And sometimes, it comes together with unexpected changes.