Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Still not having enough, Okhema’s dog?” a chuckle as sharp as a knife cut through the silence. Mydeimos the Undying stood proud and undefeated, gauntleted hands stained golden crossed nonchalantly on his chest.

“Never.” Came the confident reply. Hands holding the handle of the bloodied greatsword tightened their grip in preparation.

“Okhemans have no honor, so run away like them or you will meet your destiny tonight.” The ferocious King said, every wound inflicted on his body had closed, leaving no scar or scab. The curse inflicted on him made him invincible, immortal. Every enemy facing him in direct combat was destined to fall. Yet, the soldier standing before him fought relentlessly for days.

“Don't you dare to speak about Okhemans like that! We have honor, we don't run away from the fight.” White-haired man scoffed, the grip on his trusted sword tightened as his knuckles went white.

“I have faced many Okhemans in battle and every one of them ran away like a scared dog. You don't know what the honorable death means.” Mydeimos counterattacked, reminiscing all the times when he fought against Okheman warriors. None of them died with honor. Their death was quick and painful while the lion pounced on their back with its jaw wide open.

“Realizing the hopelessness of their position against the enemy they can't leave a scratch upon is not a lack of honor! It's preservation!” The King's enemy hissed through his clenched teeth. His swollen jaw was tense, as if his compassion couldn't bear tarnishing the honor of the deceased.

What a weak, pathetic man. During war there was no place for being compassionate.

Kremnoan’s raging voice roared through the battlefield. “In Castrum Kremnos desertion from the battlefield is punished by death!”

With his fists clenched, he pounced on the Okhema’s warrior, clashing his deadly fist against the bruised cheek. At the same time, the tip of the greatsword pierced through the King’s stomach, the giant blade slicing it open, cutting through his innards and flesh. Golden blood spilled like a solemn river, yet the fury in honey amber eyes hadn't dimmed.

“If you want to kill a man, you have to aim higher.” Mydeimos taunted. The pain meant nothing, though it spread through his veins like molten fire, burning through his core and numbing his brain. He was immortal. Even if his body fell, it stood up soon after.

The snow white hair of his opponent was stained with golden blood and dust, his face was a bloody mess, swollen with violet bruises, while his azure eyes were glassy and bloodshot from the lack of rest. With a swift movement he kicked the King off of his chest and stood up, dusting off his torn attire. The white coat had been stained golden, a torn navy cape fluttered behind his back.

“Yet, I have to admit.” A contemplating hum. “You fight well for a beta.”

Mydeimos, the King of Castrum Kremnos, was a proud alpha. In the world dominated by the strange laws, the human sex was divided into the two genders - primary and secondary. Primary gender more often than not matched with the biological sex, while the secondary gender revealed itself after reaching puberty.

Every human was categorized into one of the three secondary genders. Beta — the most common type; their scent glands were underdeveloped and they couldn't smell pheromones. Alpha — the predator, the top of the food chain; alphas tended to be more aggressive and have bulkier bodies than betas. Omega — the bottom tier, the childbearer; in many parts of Amphoreus omegas were sought-after as the perfect housewives, despite having the least privileges from all the secondary genders.

Alphas were natural rulers, they were charismatic and dominant, often aggressive towards other alphas and betas. Their scent glands were robust, a reddened patch of skin on their napes, while their pheromones were peppery and sharp. During fight or ritual combat with other alphas their scents tended to become sour and rancid, matching their emotions to overpower their opponent. Their canines tended to resemble fangs of the carnivore, designed to mark scent glands of an omega with a claiming bite.

And there he was — the Kremnoan King, the high tier alpha. His scent glands emitted acrid pheromones akin to the forged steel and leather. Yet, his scent went unnoticed, as the trembling from exertion beta couldn't distinct pheromones. The scent glands on his nape were small, undeveloped and idle, while his nostrils didn't flare smelling the oppressive pheromones. Mydeimos’s efforts to threaten his opponent were futile.

With his fangs bared in a crooked smile, Mydeimos pointed at his opponent. “Your legs are shaking like those of a newborn calf. Submit or die.” The gaping wound on his stomach had closed, leaving just a patch of dried golden blood.

“I will… never submit.” White-haired warrior answered, determination gleaming in his glassy eyes. He was nearing his limits as they had been fighting for ten days and nine nights, forgoing rest, nutrition and hydration.

“These are the brave words for someone whose body is failing to withstand the strain of war.” Mydeimos was immortal. His body might die from dehydration and starvation, but it wouldn't yield. I would stand up proudly with renewed vigor, excruciating pain of revival coursing through the King's veins.

That Okheman soldier was a mortal. Although he was a Chrysos Heir just like the King, he could still die. The brutal laws of nature were postponed and delayed but not abolished. Without hydration his blood became thick, the starvation was gnawing at his bones while the ever-present ache dulled his senses.

“Then — death it is. Meet it with honor, Okhema’s dog.” Mydeimos hummed and channeled his powers. Vermilion marks littering his body lit up with scarlet light as the Lance of Fury crystalized in his hand. Made out of crimson gems, it glimmered in the everlasting light of the Dawn Device, casting ruby-stained shadows upon the cracked earth.

White-haired warrior had no choice. Bracing his trusted weapon, he rushed towards the enemy. Mydeimos could swear he saw his azure eyes flash golden, but as soon as he noticed the change, it was gone.

They clashed with a roar, crimson dust falling to their feet as a testimony of their strength. Gasping for breath, their weapons of choice crashed with a dull screech. Whenever the blade's edge hit the lance, its crystalline shape crumbled to dust to be replaced by a new surge of rubies. They went on par, as equals, parrying and countering like old sparring partners. Their fighting style matched as if destined by fate to fight to death. One of the warriors shall fall tonight.

Despite fighting for days, the King knew no exhaustion, his body was his own weapon. The Lance of Fury swooshed through the air, coming down with amazing speed, slicing through white-haired soldier's chest. Golden blood spilled, heaps of fabric that were once his white coat dropped to the ground.

A proud grin appeared on the King's face, his honey amber eyes glimmered with excitement, seeing the slight drop in defense and staggering of his opponent.

“By the end of the night, your heart shall lay in my hand.” Mydeimos reassured, while the lance spun in the air once again. Parried by the greatsword, it shattered and before the broken speartip hit the soil, the lance had been fixed and pushed, spearing the white-haired warrior’s chest.

Glassy azure eyes widened in shock, while golden blood trickled from his parted mouth. The spear went deeper, the golden-stained tip pierced through his back, shimmering in the warmth of Dawn Device. The greatsword fell to the ground with a dull clank, his hands suddenly too weak to withstand the massive weight of its blade.

There came a shaky sigh— then a wet cough. Golden blood splattered while his collapsing lung was filled with ichor. Razor sharp edge of the lance pierced through his ribs, breaking two under the force of Mydeimos’s thrust.

With his enemy immobilized, the King stepped closer, like a predator awaiting death of its prey. Though expecting a futile attempt at freeing himself, Mydeimos held the spear firmly in his hands. Seeing none, a victorious smirk bent his lips.

“You fought well, Okhema’s soldier, though you were no match for this undying body. Know my mercy, your death shall be quick and painless.” The King freed his dominant hand and outstretched his clawed fingers, preparing for the decisive strike. White-haired soldier gasped for breath, despite the violet bruises littering his face, his skin was clammy and drained of color.

Clawed hand went towards the warrior's chest while the time seemed to slow down. Despite the force Mydeimos put into his hand, it moved slowly. He blinked once, then twice, while his outstretched palm stopped with tips of steel claws sunken into the soldier's flesh. Honey amber eyes looked up from his frozen hand, a surprised stare towards the swordmaster.

Then— he noticed it once again. His wide opened eyes were golden. Circular pupils shaped like diamonds, looking at Mydeimos without blinking.

A shiver of something unnamed ran down the King's spine, hair at the base of his nape bristled. Was that fear? No, Kremnoans knew no fear, there was no word describing ‘fear’ in Kremnoan language either. They lived to fight and fought to die.

“What are you?” Mydeimos hissed, trying to move his hand, yet it was frozen in time, stopped in distorted reality. As he looked towards the sky, the clouds hadn't moved an inch. It wasn't just his hand that stopped in time, the whole world had stopped on its track.

The King's nostrils flared, he could smell something, a scent so foreign he couldn't place a name on it. As soon as his senses registered this scent, his body writhed with agonizing pain.

It burned! That scent— it felt like molten fire poured over his skin. Mydeimos roared, trying to force his hand out of the grip of time. His knees buckled, his nerves fired rapidly, shutting down his consciousness. Golden blood dripped down his nose while his heart stopped beating. Then— it regained its beat just to stop once again.

He died. He died several times from the burn that melted his mind and scorched his soul. It felt like he touched the Sun. The soldier — no — the being in front of him was like a blazing Sun. Standing in the glory of the Dawn Device, he shone brighter than its false light. If the Sun symbolized warmth and hope— then his Sun was filled with hatred, rage and regret.

The burn stopped as suddenly as it appeared, the King slouched on his knees coughing wetly, his unfrozen hand fell on the ground weightlessly. It was limp, he couldn't feel it at all.

Mydeimos’s mind raced. He'd never heard about pheromones that could overpower the top tier alpha so effortlessly. While it was common for alphas to force submission into omegas, it was unheard of for the alphas to react the same way to someone's scent.

Not to mention that aroma. Mydeimos couldn't recognize it, almost as if this scent was a pure fire. Overpowering and agonizing.

Honey amber eyes looked at the man in front of him, prepared to meet his demise with pride and honor. White-haired soldier's hand grabbed the lance skewering his body and with a pained grunt, he pulled it out, inflicting even greater damage on his own body. Golden blood splattered on the ground as the crimson spear fell right beside his feet.

The King's eyes widened with realization. There were ancient Kremnoan records about mythical beings known as enigmas. Their existence had never been confirmed and empirical evidence denied such hypotheses.

Hypothetical enigmas were born above the laws of this world. They could mask their secondary gender and resemble beta while not releasing pheromones. Being stronger than alphas, their scent was oppressive and could force even the strongest alpha to yield. One theory suggested they could bitch alphas into omegas by destroying their hormonal balance.

After centuries of research, this topic had been forgotten as no trace of evidence appeared. In result the hypothetical enigmas had been classified as a myth. Not once in his life Mydeimos thought he would meet a real enigma.

“Before you end my life, answer me. What's your name?” The King asked, using his lance to prop himself up and stand up.

The man standing before him hadn't smiled ever since his eyes turned golden. They were cold like a jet black Sun. He hesitated for a moment, unsure which name to choose.

“Phainon.” Okheman warrior answered finally.

“The shining one. What an irony.” Mydeimos hummed genuinely amused. “Phainon of Okhema. What are you?”

Phainon was silent once again. His demeanor had changed drastically, his light wasn't warm anymore, it was cold yet scorching hot at the same time.

“It shouldn't be of your concern.” With a cryptic answer came the King's scoff.

“You call yourself a warrior of Okhema, but are you truly? Your power resembles that of a Titan. Tell me, are you a Titan or a god?” Mydeimos braced his lance once again, preparing for the attack.

“I am neither.” Phainon shook his head gently. If he was neither a Titan nor a god… Then what was he?

“Kingslayer be king, Godslayer be god. Whichever you are, be it Titan, a god or an enigma, you are my enemy who will be slain with my own fists!” With a roar the attacks reassumed, the crimson lance flew towards the white-haired warrior who evaded it with ease. His uncanny golden eyes followed Mydeimos’s movements as if they could predict his next step. He didn't fight back, simply avoiding every charge.

“Enigma?” Phainon seemed to be genuinely confused. He'd never heard anyone using this term. What did it mean to be called a mystery?

“You don't know what you are?” The King's brows furrowed. If that Okheman pretended to play dumb, Mydeimos was obliged to throw the spear through his skill to enlighten this higher being. “Enough of this!”

Being tired of the one-sided fight, Mydeimos commanded the crimson crystals to gather around Phainon's feet. Spikes of red impaled through his shins, fixing him in place. While he didn't seem to be surprised, he didn't try to evade, almost as if…

Almost as if he was waiting for it.

“Show me your true form!” Mydeimos ordered, spearing his lance once again through Phainon's chest. He didn't gasp, he didn't yelp, he didn't wince. His expression was motionless and stoic like a marble making statues of Titans.

“As you wish.” Phainon grabbed the spear and broke it in half with a squeeze of his fist. Pulling the tip out, he splattered his blood on Kremnoan’s arms, as if acknowledging his efforts, crowning him in his blood. Yet, the gold dripping down his forearms burned just like Phainon's unyielding presence.

The flash of light blinded the King's eyes. Forcing them shut, he shielded his vision with the gauntleted fist, feeling the temperature raising around him. As soon as the light dimmed, honey amber eyes snapped open to witness Phainon's mystery.

Mydeimos stood in his shadow as Phainon grew taller, his hair glowed golden and defied the gravity flowing upwards with two halos shining behind his head. His torso was pale as if carved out of white marble, crisscrossed with cracks full of molten gold. Dressed in a tight violet bodysuit littered with golden lines, he hovered in the air like an ethereal being. With a loud flap the giant wings unfurled, spreading wide in pride and glory.

A twinge of arousal pooled in his gut. Mydeimos couldn't help it, despite the conflict of interests, he found Phainon attractive and his real form was stunning. How would it feel to fuck a god? Titans, and his thighs were so thick, he could definitely choke Mydeimos with those.

Phainon's wings rustled and fluttered while he stretched them tentatively. Then— a blasphemous idea appeared. Were his wings sensitive? Mydeimos yearned for a touch, the texture of his feathers seemed to be different than bird feathers. While their appearance resembled metal, the King couldn't help but wonder if they were hot to the touch.

“You smell… aroused.” Phainon announced. On Nikador’s fury, his voice was an octave lower, raspy and deep. Mydeimos felt his cock twitch with interest as the blood ran south. While he wanted to fuck the god, he wasn't sure if it was physically possible. His form was huge, towering over Kremnoan and one look at the bulge in his bodysuit was enough to conclude his cock was huge.

“Does it surprise you?” was the King's answer. Phainon's wings fluttered once again and he came down, his feet finally touching the ground. His heavy wings folded and drooped as feathers touched the cracked soil. He wasn't used to fold his wings, Mydeimos noticed.

“Quite a bit. You wanted to kill me a second before I transformed.” Phainon hummed, coming closer to the Kremnoan. Being this close he looked even taller, Mydeimos had to look up to catch an eye contact with him.

The King had been a strange alpha. He didn't yield to omegas’ sweet and enticing smells, he craved power, he wanted strength. He wanted his partner to be strong and capable, to be able to match him in battle.

Until this day all his ruts had been lonely. The arousal and urge to claim made his mouth water as he writhed in his bed, stroking his cock to another insignificant orgasm. His knot flared, expanding while ropes of thick and virile cum shot on his heaving chest. Despite all his efforts he couldn't find a release yet he refused to lay with some omega.

His father courted Gorgo after she slew a lion with her bare hands. It was natural for him to be attracted to physical strength. However, due to the curse of immortality, nobody could match him in battle. The idea of submitting to the god-like being wasn't that repulsive.

It was actually quite enticing. Sometimes during his lonely ruts Mydeimos fingered himself and every time he did, his orgasms were amazing, toe-curling and his knot lasted for so long.

At first, Phainon wanted to talk, he wanted to negotiate stopping the raids of Kremnoan Detachment. When negotiations failed, they started to fight, exchanging blows for ten days and nine nights. Mydeimoses of previous cycles weren't as aggressive as the one standing before him and while he knew he wasn't trapped in the Eternal Recurrence anymore, his mind couldn't stop thinking about it.

Phainon's attraction towards him stayed the same despite the thirty three million cycles of eternal torment he walked through. Every time a new Phainon was born, he always chose Mydeimos as his lover. It didn't matter if they met on the battlefield, at the end of their lives, they always fell into each other's arms. Phainon's greatsword protected the King's back until the very end.

“Bow down before me.” Mydeimos rasped, his cheeks were stained red. The arousal pooled in his gut while thirst made him swallow thickly. Phainon bowed slightly, as soon as his had was on Mydeimos’s level, the lion claws closed on his hair while searing kiss sealed their lips together.

While the King tried to dominate the kiss, Phainon outpowered him, pushing his tongue into Mydei's mouth, exploring it freely, gliding it past his molars and palate. Mydeimos gasped into the kiss, pooling saliva dribbled down his chin as their lips moved in sync. The demigod exhaled sharply, his gauntleted hands pulling at the King's robes.

Being this close to Phainon, Mydeimos noticed a smell coming from him, it wasn't as abrasive and burning as before, though his skin felt hot. It smelled like wheat fields basked in the warm sun, it was calming and relaxing. Was that the real scent of his pheromones?

It drew Mydeimos closer, hard cock strained in his pants, twitching with need to be touched. That outlandish aroma made his head dizzy with hunger, he wanted to be devoured. His alpha pheromones were enticing, acrid scent of steel and leather transforming into something sweeter. Golden eyes cracked open, smelling the inviting change.

“Pomegranates.” Phainon murmured into Mydei's swollen lips. “Your favorite, aren't they?” Curious lips paved a path down his chin, down his neck, feeling the soft thrum of pulse under them. Pushing fiery blonde hair aside, Okheman soldier uncovered swollen reddened scent glands emitting that addictive aroma. “You smell so good…”

At first Phainon seemed to not distinct the threat pheromones, no matter how abrasive they were his nose never wrinkled. Did he ignore them or couldn't he smell them? The enigma before Mydeimos was a pure mystery he couldn't wait to crack open.

When Phainon's nose touched his scent glands, Mydei's knees almost buckled. Desperate, the grip on Okheman’s soldier hair tightened. It felt so good, it felt so right. Never before had anyone touched his sensitive scent glands, Mydeimos was ready to bite off the hand that tried.

Flat tongue slid on its surface, the King cried out loudly, releasing more of the addictive concoction. Titans, his cock was so hard it oozed precum and created a wet patch on his dark pants.

Phainon's tongue circled the reddened skin, moistening it with glistening saliva while a mix of sweet pomegranates and salty sweat exploded on his tastebuds.

“Stop tempting me or I might mark you.” Phainon rasped, he was trying to control his urges, but a strange voice in his head kept telling him to sink his teeth into Mydei's neck. To mark him. To make him his.

Mydeimos sighed in pleasure, his hips grinded against Phainon's thigh, moving slowly but deliberately, letting him know about the hard problem hiding in his pants. His mind was fuzzy with arousal, he couldn't think straight. It was all because of his scent.

“The King who wanted to kill me, wants to be fucked by me. How cute…” With a purr Phainon let his teeth graze the sensitive scent gland, threatening to clamp down and leave a lasting mark.

“I will kill you if you… mark me here.” Mydeimos huffed. His legs were so weak, they were giving up under his weight, unable to withstand the sheer pleasure. Then— teeth closed on the reddened skin to pull it not so gently. If not for Phainon's hands holding him straight, he would have fallen.

“You say that but your body says otherwise. You yearn to be marked by me.” Phainon's mocking smirk could be heard in his raspy voice. “An alpha like you should be the one dominating, not be dominated. Just like an omega, like a cheap whore from Okheman streets.

Strong arms lay Mydeimos down on the ground and while he tried to announce his displeasure, his protests were cut off by a passionate kiss. Hot lips claimed his own with a curious tongue exploring his mouth, uncaring that their teeth almost clashed. Its tip prodded the long canines, enjoying their sharpness. If Mydei didn't enjoy the kiss, he could close his mouth and sink his fangs into the flesh of Phainon's tongue.

“You even taste like pomegranates.” Humming, Okheman soldier let his hands wander down Mydei's defined chest, feeling the flesh sink under his fingers. It had always fascinated him, wide golden eyes watched his fingers sink into the plush muscle. It felt like a sponge. “Why are your tits so big? To seduce men stronger than you?”

Mydeimos clenched his teeth. With a scoff he threw his fist in Phainon's direction only for the demigod to catch it with ease. Clicking his tongue, Okheman warrior immobilized Mydei's wrists with his hand, pinning them above his head.

“Mmm, much better. Such a feral cat you are.” The purr Phainon let out was sinister. It reverberated through Mydei's being, settling deep in his bones. With a fresh whiff of pheromones, Mydeimos let his head fall back while he stared at the demigod playing with his chest.

He was going to cum in his pants if this continued. Mydei's body felt like it was on fire, his temperature spiked, his skin was burning wherever Phainon touched. The desire coursed through his veins like a warsong while his heart hammered as if it was going to stop.

“Aren't you a needy one?” The demigod chuckled and hovered above Mydeimos, his tall figure blocked the warm rays of Dawn Device. Scorching lips abused his neck, kissing the bobbing Adam's apple, licking the thrumming pulse points. A soft sigh of approval left Mydei's parted mouth, it felt good, it felt right and when those hot lips touched the swollen scent glands, the King groaned in desperation. “Did I trigger your rut?”

Rut… Yes. Mydeimos went into a pheromone-induced rut. He’d heard from his fellow alphas about their ruts being triggered early because of omega scents being too enticing. It had never happened to Mydeimos though. Yet, there he was— lying underneath the aroused enigma whose wings spread wide, sniffing the syrupy mix of pomegranates and honey.

Like a lazy cat Phainon rubbed their necks together, scenting the King and allowing their pheromones to mingle together. Low purrs vibrated in his throat as he made sure to fully coat Mydei's scent glands with his own fragrance. Possessive gesture. Phainon marked him as his, temporarily.

Despite surviving through countless ruts, the one Phainon induced felt nothing like an ordinary rut. It was stronger, much stronger and Mydeimos felt like drowning in the molten fire. His body shivered with need, his limbs were weak and limp, while his hazy mind was completely blank.

“Take responsibility for what you've done.” The King growled, yet his voice was shaky and desperate. He yearned for a touch, the throbbing cock confined in his pants was ready to knot anytime soon.

Phainon's smile widened, a small blush appeared on his pale marble-like cheeks. His curious hands slid down Mydei's collarbones and rested on his pecs, groping them harshly. Overwhelmed, the King's back arched with a strained moan leaving his lips. It felt so good, his dick twitched with need when Phainon's fingers mischievously flicked the perked nipples. They hardened and swelled under the gentlest touch. So responsive.

“With pleasure.” With a soft hum, Phainon dove in to worship those peculiar pecs. They never bored him, the perfect contrast in firmness of raw muscle and softness of his vermilion marked flesh. Okheman’s lips closed on the hardened bud, looking into his eyes he sucked and licked it with reverence. Phainon's brows furrowed while he focused on his task, bringing a sting of pain and a surge of pleasure too great to withstand.

Mydeimos arched his back into the touch, while Phainon's hand sneaked underneath for support, he nibbled the nipple gently and released it with a wet pop. It was red, swollen and pulsing with ache, Mydei's chest heaved while Phainon attacked the other nipple, treating it the same way. The suckling noises were so sinful, so blasphemous they went straight into Mydei's cock.

“Stop teasing me already.” The King urged as his hips buckled to grind against something. The lack of friction was killing him. Amused golden eyes watched his frown deepen while Phainon's hands went lower to grope Mydei's ass.

“I wanted to take it slow,” Phainon huffed. “The difference in our sizes is greater than usual,” A shuffle. “But if you wish so, I will indulge it.”

Suddenly Mydei's thighs were pushed forward as his body was folded in half. His surprised gasp seemed to encourage Phainon even more, his gauntleted hands grabbed the dark fabric of Mydei's pants and pulled. With a loud tear, an opening had been created.

“HKS! What have you done?” Mydeimos protested and kicked his feet weakly. How was he supposed to go back to his camp, with his pants torn open? Okheman paid him no mind as he ripped the seams, listening to the stitches pop open, stopping only when he freed Mydei's cock and balls.

A mischievous crooked smirk appeared on his face. “You don't wear underwear? How lewd.” Chuckling, Phainon secured his folded position and bowed down to press his flat tongue against the tight balls. Mydeimos roared like a lion, his clawed gauntleted hands digging into the cracked soil. He'd finally found release.

“Kephale above, you're throbbing so much.” Phainon muttered while he played with his balls, sucking one into his mouth, gently suckling at it. Hazy and drunk with pleasure, Mydeimos pushed his free hand into unkempt blonde hair, claws painfully scraping Phainon's scalp. Though he paid it no mind, golden eyes slowly closed while his wet tongue slid from the seam on Mydei's balls to the tip of the leaking cock. As soon as he flicked it playfully, the King rasped a moan. His body shivered while thick ropes of cum spilled on chest. Being folded like that, some droplets reached his neck and face, Mydeimos quickly wiped them off with an annoyed growl.

“Not enough for you to knot, huh?” Phainon's chuckle was sinister. A foreshadowing of his real interests. “Or maybe— you can knot only on someone's cock, hm?” That mocking glint in his stunning golden eyes made Mydei's blood boil. He wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face and press him to the ground while he begged for forgiveness.

However, he was the one overpowered. Muffled seductive whispers of lust came back, his limbs were weak and shaky while he could only watch Phainon's expressive wings spread wide in victory. They rustled like unfolding scrolls, the sound unfitting their metal-like texture. Mydeimos wanted to stretch his arm out and touch these giant feathers.

“Try to find out.” Mydeimos hummed, Phainon's smile widened in return, the dimples in his marble-like cheeks deepened.

Pushing the King's thighs forward once again, Okheman soldier resumed his ministrations, his tongue sliding down the perineum to rest on the fluttering hole.

“HKS! Not there!” Mydei protested, trying to wiggle out of Phainon's hold. His displeasure had been ignored as the curious tongue slowly circled his entrance. “Stop it at once, it's disgusting!”

Mydei's protests fell deaf on Phainon's ears. “You say it's disgusting, but you're still hard and twitching.”

Sucking a deep breath through his nose, Phainon pushed his tongue inside, enjoying the way Mydei fluttered and clamped on it. With distress painted on his face, he fought the need to pull the demigod’s head closer and the urge to push him away. It was something Mydeimos considered a taboo, he would never give his partner a rimjob as he considered it unhygienic.

Honey amber eyes locked with shimmering goldens. Phainon was serious, his tongue moved slowly in and out, moistening and stretching the tight channel.

“Hold your legs for me.” Okheman murmured after slipping his tongue out for a moment. While saliva wasn't the best lubricant, there was nothing else they could use.

Despite all his previous protests, Mydeimos grabbed his shins, holding the uncomfortable folded position while Phainon's left palm supported his sacrum. The demigod spat on his fluttering hole, it clenched so nicely when the saliva fell on it. Not wasting a second, Okheman slid one finger inside while spearing it with his tongue at the same.

“Ah… It—” Mydei choked out. To his surprise, it felt good, pleasure spiked in his gut as his hips moved involuntarily. Phainon purred, his finger became two in no time. Slicked and dripping with spit they scissored and spread apart to loosen him up. Mydeimos was tense, he was trembling and clenching his jaw to prevent any embarrassing sounds wanting to escape his mouth.

Phainon's fingers curved upwards to find his sweet spot, they touched and probed, searching and when he heard a sharp gasp, a small smile curved his lips.

I've got you.

Deciding his hole had been slicked enough, Phainon traced a path with his lips on Mydei's muscular thigh. His fingers worked tirelessly, rubbing teasing circles on Kremnoan’s prostate, who groaned with need. He couldn't bear it anymore. The need to be filled was overcoming his reason.

“Fuck me already.” He spat, honey amber eyes glimmered with lust and embarrassment, while his cheeks dusted with a scarlet blush. “I'm immortal, you can't kill me with that weapon.”

Phainon's golden eyes widened comically, his wings drooped slightly. He wasn't mentally prepared to hear that, his cock throbbed painfully in his bodysuit.

“You'll be the death of me.” The demigod chuckled and worked with his suit a bit to release a monstrous cock. It slapped Mydei's ass, throbbing in rhythm with Phainon's heartbeat.

It was enormous. Long and girthy with the foreskin pulled back to reveal an angry red moist tip, while thick veins covered its shaft. It was the biggest cock Mydei had ever seen. Slightly curved, it rested on the King's ass proudly as a translucent string of precum slowly dribbled on Kremnoan’s stomach.

“Are you sure?” Phainon asked again. Once he started, there was no coming back. Mydeimos wasn't an omega built to receive alpha’s cock, he didn't self-lubricate and was still tight despite the rushed prep. Okheman wanted to take his time preparing him, two fingers were not enough to spread him open for the monstrous cock.

“I am sure.” Mydeimos growled and spread his legs wider apart. The dick resting on his ass twitched pathetically. Oh, he reacted so nicely.

Despite Mydei's best efforts to make Phainon snap, the demigod flipped him on his belly and raised his hips in the air. “That way will be better” he said while kneeling on one knee to spit at his hand. Even though it was protected by the metal gauntlet, it felt so hot as it pumped his cock to spread the superficial moisture.

One hand rested on Kremnoan’s hip, while the other lined his dick up.

“Breathe, Mydei.” Phainon whispered as he slowly pushed forward. The tip slipped in almost effortlessly, but inch after inch Mydeimos started to feel the stretch and burn. “You're doing so well for me.” Purring, he let his hips push forward to the point where the tip met resistance. “You feel so good, you're so tight.”

Mydeimos screamed while that weapon speared his gut. He felt impossibly full, his hole fluttered, straining to accommodate the stretch. It hurt, but it was exactly what he wanted. The burn etched its mark upon him while the sting spilled golden blood, smoothing the glide.

Unconsciously, his hand reached towards his abdomen. Mydei's eyes widened in horror when he felt the bulge, outline of the monstrous cock distending his stomach.

“Fuck, Mydei, are you alright?” Phainon asked, noticing the golden blood staining his pelvis.

“Don't worry about me, I'm immortal.” Mydeimos reassured, but somehow Phainon didn't calm down at all. Seeing the blood made his heart sink with worry. “Move.” A strict order came.

Who was he to ignore the King's order?

“Is that an order, Your Majesty?” Phainon asked, while his fingers slowly slid down his spine— he gently traced the tailbone, the sacrum, the lumbar and stopped at the tenth thoracic vertebra.

Mydei's breath hitched, his body froze.

“How—” he choked out as he looked back.

“Shhhhhh, it's not time for a talk. I will protect your weakness, your secret is safe with me.” Okheman soldier answered, slowly sliding out to slam back in again.

The sound Mydeimos let out was ungodly. His hands clawed the ground while he growled. He felt so full, his brain had been emptied out of the unnecessary thoughts and worries. What mattered was the cock rearranging his guts. Every snap of Phainon's hips felt like he drove his dick right into the lung. It was impossible, but whenever Okheman thrusted in, he was left breathless.

“More!” Mydeimos exclaimed like a victorious warlord. Phainon stilled for a moment, braced his hands on the King's hips and with a breathy chuckle he fucked him roughly. Every thrust punched air from his lungs, saliva dribbled from his open mouth while his hands gave up. Mydei's cheek hit the ground, his back arched into a perfect curve that made Phainon choke out a muffled moan.

That muscled back curved so seductively before him, decorated with swirls of vermilion which lit up from the excitement coursing through his veins. The demigod’s wings flapped, exclaiming his pleasure.

“Turn me over.” Mydeimos huffed. His limbs were too weak to move on their own, sinful arousal threatened to unravel the tight knot in his gut.

Phainon listened to his plea and surprisingly gently flipped the King on his back, spreading his legs wide apart. His cock was leaking uselessly on his stomach while the knot was slowly but deliberately forming at its base.

It was so erotic. Phainon wanted to touch it, to feel the swell on his hand, yet he decided against it. Maybe next time. They had plenty of time after all. For now, he was determined to make Mydeimos cum and knot on his cock.

“Wow, I can see my cock poking through your skin.” Phainon murmured, mesmerized by the outline of his dick etched on Mydei's stomach. Hazy honey amber eyes looked at the bulge, it moved whenever Okheman thrusted and as his thrusts got more careless, it became even more visible. “Your face looks so lewd, Mydei.”

Mydeimos wanted to scold him, to spit a witty remark or pull at these stupid sprouts of his hair. Phainon's cock filled him so well, it rubbed against his prostate, offering the unlimited pleasure and with another glance at the bulge on his belly, he came with a strained moan.

The knot at the base of his dick flared while it twitched and throbbed, shooting strings of thick milky white cum on his stomach and chest.

“Heh, I really made you knot from having your ass fucked.” Phainon purred and sped up, fucking through Mydei's orgasm, enjoying the way his oversensitive walls spasmed and clamped on him.

“P-Phai—” Mydeimos whimpered, his overstimulated nerves responding with a fleeting choice. Though he was too weak to move, his thighs trembled while Phainon lowered himself down to suck a hickey dangerously close to his swollen scent glands.

Then— the King's hand aimlessly grabbed whatever was the closest to it. It clenched around a strange pillar-like structure and pulled with all its weakened might.

“Aah! Fuck!” Phainon whined and fell right into Mydei's arms. His body was trembling while his hips stilled.

What's going on? Mydeimos wondered and looked at the object he'd accidentally grabbed. It was Phainon's wing.

His wings were sensitive.

They trembled under Mydei's hand and as he let it slide closer to the feathers, the demigod arched with the most beautiful moan the King had ever heard.

“Don't– touch.” Phainon choked out and moaned once again when Mydeimos pulled at his wing. It flapped uselessly while Okheman’s hips stuttered.

“Now we are even, demigod. I've found your weakness.” Kremnoan murmured while his other hand found Phainon's second wing to pull at both of them simultaneously.

The shaky scream he let out was heavenly. His back arched while he came unexpectedly, filling Mydei with hot cum in a series of searing throbs. Golden and violet wings curled and stretched, trying to free themselves from Kremnoan’s hold. Up to no avail.

“Let them go, please.” Phainon whimpered with his face pressed into Mydei's shoulder. He trembled like a leaf during the storm.

“Hm? I didn't hear you.” Mydeimos hummed while sliding his hands towards the first feather-like structure. Phainon bit his lip, drawing blood just to stop the embarrassing moans.

“Stop it. Please.” Repeating, the demigod tried to snap his wings fast enough to shake Mydei's hands off, but the clawed tips of his gauntlets bit into the flesh of wings. It was too much, he couldn't bear it.

His teeth clamped on Mydei's skin to muffle another scream. Sharp canines pierced the soft skin while Mydeimos gasped for air.

He— couldn't believe it. His hands fell limply onto the ground, defeated he stared blankly at the sky.

Phainon… Marked him.

“Huh?” Okheman let out a confused huff while he lifted himself slightly to look at Mydeimos. Then he noticed it. The swollen scent glands at his neck dripping with golden blood while a deep teeth-shaped wound encircled it.

The world seemed to stop for a moment.

“HKS! I told you not to mark me!” Mydei snapped and hit Phainon straight into the face with his gauntleted fist.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, it was an accident!” Phainon protested, standing up. His halo shone brighter than before.

“Accident, my ass! We are enemies and you marked me!” Mydeimos stood up, suddenly invigorated. His tattoos lit up once again as he commanded the crystals to form a Lance of Fury.

“I've already told you that I'm sorry! I'm going to take the responsibility for marking you!” Phainon's wings flapped as he flew a bit higher, distancing himself from the angry king.

“I'm going to fight you another 10 days and 10 nights to make you beg for forgiveness!” Mydeimos threw his lance towards Phainon who swiftly evaded it.

“Fine! Do your worst, Mydeimos the Undying!” Phainon summoned his Dawnmaker and plunged towards the furious Kremnoan.

They ended up fighting for another ten days before Mydeimos calmed down and accepted the fact he'd been eternally bonded with Phainon. While the idea didn't entertain him, his rage calmed down through countless deaths he experienced at the battlefield.

One thing he was sure of— Phainon avoided attacking his back. He'd killed him, beheaded him, gutted him, yet he never targeted Mydei's back.

“I take my words back.” Mydeimos muttered after the battle. He used the heaps of his tattered scarlet robe to tie at his hips and protect his modesty at least a bit.

“What words?” Phainon asked. He had transformed back into his usual self, all the wounds Mydeimos inflicted upon him had been healed.

“I said you lack honor, I take that back. You're an honorable warrior.” the King admitted before dispatching towards his camp.

Phainon was stunned for a moment.

“Wait, you're going to leave just like that?” He asked, while his eyes followed the walking Kremnoan.

“We will meet on the battlefield again, Phainon of Okhema.”

While Mydeimos slowly disappeared in the woods, Phainon's mind drifted as he turned towards the Okhema.

“How am I going to tell Aglaea that I accidentally mated the Kremnoan king?”

He was sure of one thing— she will not be happy.