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Chapter Text

Prologue

There was a lot of tension in the room. Even at nine years of age, Dean could feel it; the smell of it was crawling over his skin. He probably shouldn't be here but his father, John of Winchester, hadn't hesitated. John had walked into the room with his Omega wife on his left side and his son on his right and no one had questioned it. Others had brought their wives, but Dean was the only child present. Dean wasn't surprised. His Alpha father knew how to command a room.

Men filed into the room in groups of four or five. With each new batch of arrivals the tension mounted a little higher. The uneasy murmurings got a little louder each time as the men greeted each other. Sometimes the greetings were friendly, sometimes they were colder, but so far they had all been polite. Even when Lord Alistair arrived, Lord Robert, their host, nodded and welcomed him to the gathering.

Dean was trying to figure it out. He knew some of the tension was due to the large grouping of Alphas. Even leaving aside their different personal agendas, a lot of Alphas together always seemed to bristle and posture. He had seen it once or twice before. No, Dean was trying to figure out how much of the tension was simply due to the fear. These people weren't supposed to be here, meeting like this. They weren't supposed to have the kind of conversation they were about to have. His father had told him so.

Dean sat quietly waiting; twisting strands of purple heather together into a slender rope. After this meeting was over he would slip it onto his mother's narrow wrist. If the meeting went poorly, he hoped it would at least make her smile a little. He suspected it would. John sometimes seemed to disapprove when Dean did things like this. Dean was going to be an Alpha. John was sure of it and Alphas were not supposed to like making pretty gifts for their mothers or anyone else for that matter. His father's small frown would normally be enough to discourage him from doing almost anything. The only exception was when it was something that would please his mother.

As though she had heard him thinking, Mary appeared at his side and lowered herself carefully into a chair. "Your new sibling is trying to fight their way out of me."

Dean smiled and pressed a hand to her swollen belly. The fluttering kicks he felt beneath his hand made his smile widen. "She just wants to listen too."

Mary chuckled at the delight on his face as he slid his hand over the lumps and bumps appearing across her stomach. Dean looked as though he was trying to catch the movements; impossible as that was. "Why are you so sure the baby is a girl?"

Dean shrugged, "I want a sister."

Mary flinched at a particularly vicious kick aimed at her insides and huffed out a breath, "You'll know soon."

"When?" Dean demanded, his eyes sparkling with excitment.

"Always so impatient, my little love," she ruffled his hair and he let her. Even though he felt too old to be shown affection in public anymore. "Soon, I promise."

Dean tried to be satisfied with that but it was hard. A loud guffaw of laughter dragged his attention away from his mother and across the room. "Lord Alistair is here," he told her; as though she didn't know. The men who had arrived with him were stood in a group laughing at something their leader had said. Dean could not help but feel it sounded forced.

"You knew he would be."

"I do not like him." Dean admitted quietly.

"No one likes him." Mary sighed heavily, "But he leads his tribe."

Dean was about to reply when a loud knocking interrupted their conversation. Lord Robert was banging his cup against the scrubbed wood of the table. The conversation died out and Dean felt his heart thud unpleasantly in his chest. The tension spiked, as did the thick smell of 'Alpha' in the air.

Lord Robert waited until complete silence had fallen. It did not take long. "We all know why we are here," he said calmly. "The tribes of Briton." He waved a hand at the assembly. "And here we are. Fractured and divided. Weak. Just the way our enemies, the Irish, like us."

"And what would you do about it?" No one was surprised that Lord Alistair was the first to interrupt.

Lord Robert wasn't put off, "I would have us unite. If we combined our tribes we would out-number the Irish seven to one."

"How..." Alistair acted as though he was searching for the right word but even Dean could sense he was mocking Lord Robert. "How magnanimous of you. And who do you think is going to lead this new, unified Briton?"

"The strongest among us, in every sense of the word, Lord John of Winchester." There was some muttering at this statement but no one sounded surprised. Not even Alistair flinched. It wasn't just that Winchester was the strongest settlement that Lord Robert was referring to and everyone knew it. Alphas might be the most dominant sub-gender, but they had a hierarchy too. John of Winchester was at the top.

Dean watched his father get to his feet. John had obviously been waiting for his cue. "My friends," he said and Dean wanted to flinch at the very idea that Lord Alistair could be included under this banner. "Tonight we must consider our future. By that, I mean that we must look beyond next year or the one after that. I have brought my wife and son with me because I believe that here, tonight, we will decide the next stage of our lives." He paused to let this sink in. "I want my children to grow old in a land where we are willing to overcome our differences and work together for the good of all."

"And you think you are the man to lead us?" Dean wished he was older. He wished he was grown enough to throw a punch at Lord Alistair. He did not care for the sneering expression on the man's face at all.

"I do," John said simply. "We may not always agree with each other but I believe I can begin to chart a course for a unified Briton."

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, but he did not get the chance. A piercing scream cut the air but it was not coming from inside the room. It came from outside.

There was a full second lull as the men in the room froze, all whipping round to look at the door. John was the first to react. He hurtled towards the door and yanked it open. Almost as soon as he did, the smell of burning wood began to creep inside. He barely took a second to look out before he was shutting the door again, "The Irish are here. Arm yourselves, now!"

Dean leapt to his feet. Obeying his father was so ingrained in him that he immediately began reaching for the dagger he carried strapped to his hip. He managed to take two steps before a hand bit into his shoulder. "Dean!" He turned to see his mother's face pinched with terror. "Your father will lead the men. Please, don't leave me alone."

He warred with himself for less than a second. If his father was going to fight, Dean wanted to go with him. On the other hand, he knew his mother was right. She needed someone with her. Family meant everything. John had taught him that. Dean nodded and threaded his fingers through hers, letting her tug him away from the door. He glanced back towards his father to find that John was watching them both. He nodded, clearly pleased and shouted over the hurrying heads of the crowd. "Dean, look after your mother, son."

"I will," Dean called back, but he had no way of knowing if John heard him. Mary was already tugging him away. She dragged him through the sea of hurrying bodies as they struggled against the tide. Her grip was strong on his arm and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist to prevent them from being separated.

Mary pressed into the group of women at the back of the room. There were almost identical looks of terror on their faces. Dean was proud to see that his mother didn't look like that. He had no doubt that she was afraid, but she was far too strong an Omega to show it to anyone but him or his father. His father would fight the enemy. His mother would help those who could not fight.

"All will be well," she said in a quiet voice that still seemed to carry to every woman. "We must trust in our men, our Alphas. They will not fail us." Their heads turned to look at her. Every single one of them was a Beta. Dean didn't need to be told that much. The way they looked at her... Some people thought Omegas were the weakest of the sub-genders. Those people had never met his mother. These Beta's looked at her as though she was the answer to their prayers. "Hold onto each other." Mary reached out and took the hand of the woman closest to her, keeping hold of Dean with the other. "Pray."

Some of the women closed their eyes but Dean did not. He watched as they began to run through their prayers. He watched as the men waited just inside the closed doors, braced for whatever would come through it. He watched as the door was hit by something heavy again and again and again. He watched as the door was splintered open by the biggest man Dean had ever seen in his life.

Dean felt very ashamed of the frisson of terror that shot down his spine at the sight of this man but he could not seem to suppress it. This man, this Alpha (and Dean knew that that was what he was), looked as though he could pull trees up by their roots and he was staring at John of Winchester. For the first time in his life, Dean realised it was quite possible that his father could die.

Then the fighting began in earnest.

It was a blur that Dean was never able to properly reconstruct afterwards. He remembered some things with perfect clarity but the seconds that joined the memories together were blurred almost immediately. He remembered seeing Lord Robert bellowing like an angry bear as he battled three men. He remembered seeing Lord Alistair flinch at the sight of the huge man and back away as quickly as he could without falling. He remembered looking up into his mother's wide eyes as her fingers bit into the back of his hand. But most clearly, he remembered the moment the giant-man stepped towards Dean's father.

John had not flinched, had not run. He stood his ground and raised his sword, ready to defend himself and his family. Then the giant had brought down his sword in an attack as swift as a snake could deliver. John was quicker. He brought up his own sword to stop the blow from cleaving his skull in two and managed to do so.

Dean felt a momentary elation that gave way almost immediately to panic. John had indeed managed to block the blow, but the force with which it had been delivered had brought him to one knee.

It was at that point that Dean's moment of clarity ended. He could not remember if that sight had been enough to start him running across the room. All he knew for certain was that his mother had screamed his name as he had wrested his hand from her grasp and all but flung himself forward. His next clear memory found him inches away from the giant-man, his small dagger in his hand.

His father spotted him and his eyes widened in horror but Dean didn't have time to say anything. All he knew what that he had to help his father. Family was all that mattered.

Dean barely came up past the giant-man's waist but that didn't matter. Clutching the dagger tightly in his sweaty fist, he reached up and plunged it as deeply as he could into the back of the giant-man's knee. He stared at the handle, protruding from the leg joint. Even later, years later, he would remember his surprise in that moment at the lack of blood. There was blood everywhere, he could smell it. It was on the floor. It was on the table they had all been sat around. It was on the bodies he knew, on some level, surrounded him. But it did not seep from the wound on the giant-man's leg.

There was a grunting roar of rage coming from somewhere nearby but it didn't seem to matter. His eyes simply flicked back to his father's stunned face. John was reaching towards him.

If his father managed to reach him he didn't notice. Something hit him hard in the face and Dean knew no more for a time.

XXX

It was the heat that brought him back to himself. It was the first thing he noticed, even before he'd managed to pry his eyes open. In fact, his vision was the last of his senses to begin functioning. The heat on his skin was first. Then the smell of burning wood. It stung his nose unpleasantly. As he was registering the smell, he realised he could taste it too. He'd always found the smell of wood burning pleasant, he associated it with food and revelry, but this was different. The cloying taste of smoke was choking him. Next was the screaming; men and women crying out. The sound was coming from outside but it was still close. He didn't know if the cries were due to fear or pain but it didn't matter. It was horrifying anyway.

His sight was last and it was with some difficulty that he managed to pry his eyes open at all. His head swam unpleasantly. The room was dark and light at the same time and it made it hard for him to focus his eyes. The fight was clearly over. He couldn't see anyone; no one alive anyway. There was smoke slowly creeping throughout the room and Dean could see that it was coming from the corner to the right hand side of the door. Someone had set a torch to the building they were in. They. 'They' was him and his mother and his father.

Dean forced himself to sit up, ignoring the nausea that rose swiftly. He couldn't throw up now. He could do that later. First, he needed to find his parents. His eyes turned automatically to the spot he'd last seen his father but John was not there. Instead, there was a small pool of blood. A small cry of anguish made it's way out of his smoke-strained throat.

Trying to force down the panic, Dean flipped himself onto his hands and knees and tried to get to his feet. The smoke was thicker now. He coughed heavily and turned back to the corner where he had last seen his mother. No one was standing there now.

The smoke billowed and Dean was forced to drop back to his hands and knees and crawl forwards. He couldn't breath in if he was standing, but he had to get to his mother. Dean scuttled forwards as fast as he could manage with his swimming, throbbing head. His eyes had started to fill with water. He did not know if he was crying with the fear or if the smoke was working on his vision too; it did not matter.

He made his way around the table blocking his view and his heart stopped. His mother might have been looking at him but Dean knew that she was not. Her eyes were fixed. She was never going to truly look at him again. Just behind her lay his father. His eyes were closed. Dean didn't know which was worse. They were both worse.

There were other bodies too but Dean didn't care about them. He wanted to go to his parents but at the same time he never wanted to look on them again. He wanted to never have seen this. He would never be able to unsee it now. Replacing every good image, every happy moment; there would now only be this.

His body seemed to collapse in on itself. Dean was lying on his belly in a room that was slowly burning and he could not find it in himself to care. He was going to die here with his mother and father and he wanted to. It was the only thing he wanted. Nothing mattered now. He would slip away and this horror would end; the horror of a world without them.

He closed his eyes and shut everything out. He did not want to see anymore. He did not want to think. He did not want to listen to the sounds of the screaming. The women, the men, the children, the babies. Except...he could only hear one baby screaming...and it was closer than everything else. He did not understand how he had missed it.

Dean's eyes snapped open. There could not be a baby in this room. He had been the only child brought to this gathering. Except for his unborn sibling of course, but she didn't count. Dean looked for the source of the sound and his search brought him back to his mother. He did not want to look at her again but he had no choice. The sound of the baby screaming was coming from her and there was movement...

Dean forced his body up again and he crawled forwards. There was definitely movement up and under his mother's skirts. If he had been more aware of himself he might have flushed at what he was about to do but in the moment he knew there was no other choice. The clarity of crisis demanded it. Dean grasped the edge of her dress and pushed it up her legs.

There, pink and squirming and screaming, lay a small baby boy. His tiny hands grasped at the air and his legs kicked slightly. There was blood too and water and something else that Dean couldn't identify. It was almost blue in color and it was attached to the baby...to his brother.

Dean gave a gasping sob and reached out for the baby. For a blissful moment, Dean forgot where he was and that the bodies of his parents lay within touching distance. There was only the baby. He slid his hands around the small body and lifted. He experienced a moment of panic at the way the baby's body seemed to collapse in his hands but once he drew it close to his chest he was able to keep it still. The warm weight of his new brother changed something then; irrevocably. He was no longer the only thing living in this burning room. He couldn't stay in here now. He had to get out.

Dean looked at the blue fleshy mass attached to his brother and followed it. It disappeared between his mother's legs and he knew somehow what to do. His brother could not stay attached to their mother now. He had been born. He was alive and their mother was not.

Fortunately, he was not the only person his father insisted be armed. His mother had a dagger of her own. She had not been able to wear it strapped to her hip like he had done. Omegas didn't go around armed. No, hers had been strapped to her lower leg. Dean grasped it now and flinching slightly in revulsion he pressed down, the blue rope caught between the blade and the wooden floor. The dagger was sharp and the rope thing cut easily.

Dean was only pleased about that for half of a moment. He quickly gasped in horror as blood began to lead from the end of the rope. He did the only thing he could think to do and dropped the dagger, pinching the end shut between his fingers. It felt slimy and spongy at the same time but Dean didn't let go. Blood needed to stay on the inside and how much could the small body in his arms have inside of it?

Now that his brother was no longer attached to their (dead) mother, Dean knew there was only one other thing to do. He had to get out. If the smoke was hurting him, he didn't want to think about how much it would be hurting the baby.

"Dean..."

Dean almost fell over with the shock. He hurt his neck with how quickly he turned to look. "Father?"

John's eyes were open, but barely. "Dean, get out."

Despite his resolution of only moments ago, Dean froze. His father lived. He could not leave his father here to die. It was unthinkable. "I can help..."

"You can help yourself, you can help the baby." His father fixed him with the hardest stare Dean had ever borne. "You must save the baby. Protect the baby."

"But..."

"Tell someone I'm here, but go." When Dean still didn't move, John growled at him.  Dean had never heard his father's Alpha voice before, not like this.  "Get. Out. Now. Now!"

Dean whimpered. He did not want to go. He wanted to help his father but he could not disobey. Not here. Not now. He wrenched his eyes away and adjusted his grip on his brother. He couldn't let go of that bleeding rope so he kept it pinched tight and pressed the baby to his chest with his arm. Then he began to crawl, half-sliding towards the door. The tears that came now were not the result of the smoke. He was leaving. He was taking his brother and leaving his father behind. He wondered if the very thought might kill him.

Dean kept moving. It was hard trying to carry a baby and crawl but he did not stop. He had to do as his father had told him. He had to save his brother. He would send someone to help John. There would be someone who would help. There had to be. Dean sobbed. Even if he could find someone to help, the fire was spreading, it was getting closer to the door. There were only minutes left before it would be impossible to get in and out. He was going to make it but his father...

He reached up to grip the edge of the door but before his fingers could close around the edge of the wood it opened. Dean had to roll onto his side quickly to escape being trampled by hurrying feet but he could have wept with joy. "Dean?"

Dean looked up, "Lord Robert, please you have to help my father." He looked back over his shoulder but he couldn't point. He had all but collapsed and he was still holding his brother. "He's alive but..."

Lord Robert didn't seem to need to hear anymore. "Get the boy out," he commanded. Dean felt hands grip his arms. They hauled him to his feet and then beyond. He didn't fight. He wrapped both arms around his squirming brother and let himself be taken.

XXX

Across the sea...the same day...

Castiel stood staring out at the sea. The heat of the day had long since died away but he could not seem to force himself to leave. Anna stood a few feet behind him waiting. She would not hurry him. She knew him too well.

It was only when the sky began to darken that Castiel realised just how much time must have passed. They had begun the funeral procession at dawn. His father hadn't come to check on him; not that Castiel had expected any real concern. "Why..." he said finally and his voice came out in a croak. "Why did she die?"

Anna was at his side in less than a second. She slipped her arm around his shoulders and Castiel had to fight hard not to turn his face into her stomach. He was seven years old; still young enough to seek comfort but he fought against it anyway. He wanted to be strong and if he could not be strong, he wanted to appear strong.

"She was..." Anna's voice trailed away. "She was ill."

Castiel let out of huff, "I never thought you would lie to me."

Anna knelt down and pulled him into her arms. He did not fight her. She smelled good and familiar. She was the closest thing to a mother he had now. "I'm sorry, sweet boy. I do not...I would rather die than cause you more pain."

Castiel felt more tears begin to run down his face. He had not known it was possible to cry so much. It did not seem as though it had stopped since he had been told of his mother's death. "Then tell me the truth. I did not ask how she died. I know that. I asked why she died."

Anna sighed and stroked a hand through his hair. He did not move out of her embrace. "She was very, very sad, my prince. She did not believe she would be happy again."

Castiel felt his heart clench as Anna confirmed his worst fears. "I was not enough to make her happy."

Anna was the one to pull back. Her cold hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. She was shaking her head. "You were the only thing that brought her any measure of happiness." Anna spoke as though there was no other possible truth. "But you could not stop her from being sad."

Images flickered through Castiel's mind. Everyone told him that he was clever. It might be true but in that moment he wished it was not. All he could see at that moment was the varying patterns of bruises that had adorned his mother's face over the last months, years, ever since he could remember. He thought he understood. "Because of my father?" He asked.

"My prince..."

"There is no need to to answer me, Anna." He turned back to stare across the water. He half-imagined he could still see the boat bearing his mother's body but he knew that was not possible. He had seen it burn after all.

"She loved you," Anna said.

Castiel nodded, "And I loved her." He reached up for Anna's hand and finally dragged his eyes away from the water. He was cold down to his bones. He wanted to go inside.

Chapter Text

Twelve Years Later...

Dean's back and shoulders were crying out for mercy. All the other men had taken a break at some point but Dean had not. He was too angry and frustrated and he needed a way to let it out. He wished there was someone he could hit, hard. He wanted to fight and rage and growl and make someone hurt for the way he felt. His Alpha was grumbling away almost constantly within him. Unfortunately, he liked the men around him too much to actually do it. So, chopping wood would have to do. The ax descended with a satisfying thunk and Dean revelled in the sound.

The waiting was making it worse. He wanted to be in council with his father and Lord Robert deciding what should be done but, no. They had to wait. He understood it in principle. The attack on the town of York was useful in a horrifying way. It was an opportunity to unite the Barons in their hatred of the Irish. After all, if York could be plundered and burnt so easily, next time it could be any of their homes. This was indeed an opportunity; the best one they'd had since...in a long time. He had been present when they had decided to wait for the the Barons to gather but it did not make the waiting easier. It had almost been a day already.

He swung the ax down with vicious accuracy ignoring the aches and pains and the sweat pouring down his back. He also ignored the tittering group of girls and young women watching him from near the trees; mostly Betas, two Omegas and even one female Alpha, his nose told him. Had it been an ordinary day he would have flashed them a smile or a wink but he just was not in the mood. Dean knew how he looked, stripped to the waist, laboring in the sun, but he could not find it in himself care. He had bedded Meg only a few days ago; he did not feel the need for a woman yet.

It was a good opportunity; he kept telling himself that. He just wished that it had not been York. Lord Rufus had governed York. The same Lord Rufus who had carried him and Sammy from that burning room so many years ago. He would never forget the way the man had looked at him when he had set Dean on the ground. Dean's face had been tear-streaked. His whole body had trembled with grief for his mother and fear for his father. He had not known what to do with himself beyond trying to stay upright and hold onto his brother. Lord Rufus had looked at him for long seconds until Dean had felt the stare and returned the look. "You did well," he had said, looking at the bundle in Dean's arms. "A man protects his family. You will be a strong man."

At the time Dean had not known how much the words meant to him. Everything was muddled and blurry that night, but they had replayed themselves over in his head many, many times over the years. They were the first words of praise he had ever received, apropos of nothing. Of course, his mother had told him she loved him and how good he was. His father had praised him when he had done well, but somehow Lord Rufus' words had sunk into his bones. He had no reason to say it if it was not so.

And now Lord Rufus was gone; lost somewhere in the burning remnants of his town. That was what the Irish did when they feared a town was getting too strong or too rich. They rode in, took the women and children and started to burn. It was what they always did. He tried hard not to picture the same giant-man he had seen as a child delivering the final blow. Dean knew now that his name was Uriel and that he served the Irish king but Dean could never think of him as such. To Dean, he would always be 'the giant-man'. Dean clenched his teeth together hard and kept swinging.

People died all the time. He had lost friends over the years to illness and injuries and in battle but this was different. This was an unprovoked attack against an entire town and someone Dean had been proud to call a friend. He ached inside. Dean hated the feeling of uselessness that was surging through him; his Alpha was roaring against it. The urge to 'do something' battering at him from all sides. The pain in his arms and shoulders was a good distraction but it would not last for much longer.

"Dean!" The familiar voice cut through his silent musings and Dean's head snapped up.

Sammy was running towards him, darting around people and wagons alike. Dean's heart soared. "Sammy?" It was a mark of his brother's distraction that the boy did not protest the use of his nickname. He liked it when they were alone, Dean knew that. But in the presence of others, Samuel preferred his full name.

Dean had already dropped his ax when his brother skidded to a halt in front of him. "They're...here. Lords Alistair...and Gordon...and even Lady Harvelle." Dean did not need to hear anymore. The ax lay forgotten as he grabbed his abandoned tunic and started to run himself.

Sammy followed. People were milling about but they all hurried to get out of Dean's way as he approached. He wondered what they were seeing in his eyes at that moment; whether the hunger he felt was visible. He darted around children and animals who moved too slowly and tried not to growl at them. It was not their fault he was an impatient bastard.

D'Or's castle was starting to be visible now; tucked a few hundred feet behind the town's main hall. The press of people was thicker here, as it always was around the hall. Had it not been Summer, the press would have been even thicker. When the weather turned colder, a lot of the town's people would sleep in the hall at night, gathered around the hearth in clumps and groups for warmth. Families and friends would curl around each other in mutual support. Dean's family provided the wood for the hearth and when people could not cut or trade for their own, the hall was their haven.

People nodded and waved at him but Dean tried not to meet anyone's eyes. He didn't want anyone stopping him or slowing him down. He glanced once over his shoulder to make sure Sammy was still close and continued to run. He cleared the main body of the town and began to climb, following the wending path up the earthen ramparts, battling to fit his left arm through the sleeve of his tunic.

He was still struggling to clothe himself when he got inside his family home. D'Or's stables had not been so full in months; not since the banquet to celebrate Sam's name-day. The men at arms opened the gates at his approach and he had just enough presence of mind to nod at them in thanks before he hurried on.

There were people milling around in the yard but none of the Barons were there. Dean knew that meant there were already inside. These men were members of the various entourages; here as a show of strength or solidarity. There were a few Alphas but most of them were Betas; strong ones though. He could smell them. There was some posturing going on and the various groups were easily differentiated from each other but thus far it was peaceable enough. Let them posture, it did little harm.

He inclined his head politely even though he recognised few of them. it was his duty to be hospitable. Dean quickened his steps as Sammy came to walk beside him. He spared his younger brother a smile, but it did not do much to dispel the apprehension on Sammy's face. He was only twelve years old but Sammy had grown up as Dean had. He understood what was happening here today and he would not be excluded from the meeting. Dean paused at the double doors for a moment and met his brother's eyes. They did not speak, there was no real need. Instead, Dean reached out and grasped Sammy's shoulder tightly and nodded once. Sammy returned the gesture.

Dean pushed open the doors without ceremony and strode into the room, trying to keep his face calm. Appearances were not everything, but when faced with a group of twitchy Barons who were almost all older than him, they mattered quite a lot. "Ah, Dean." His father did not smile with his mouth but Dean could see it in his eyes.

"My Lord," he greeted, inclining his head respectfully. John had been waiting for him as he nearly always did. Except in cases of unexpected emergency, John did not act unless Dean was by his side. Dean was his heir, his champion and while it was Dean's duty to follow any order given by his Lord, his father was careful never to show him anything that might be construed as disrespect in front of anyone; not even Sammy. John needed people to respect Dean; needed people to follow his lead when necessary.  It was a vital part of the roles they both played.

Dean had not known it the night Sammy was born, not until his father had been dragged from that burning room, but John had not succumbed to smoke or fire. The giant-man, Uriel, had not be able to kill John of Winchester, but he had managed to cut off his right hand; his sword-hand. Had Lord Robert not had the presence of mind to tie off the wound and cauterize it as quickly as possible, John would have bled to death.  As it was, he had lived.

For a while, it had not seemed as though he wanted to.

The loss of his beloved wife had nearly been enough to kill him anyway. Only his sons were enough to bring him back from the brink of death. Alphas might be considered the strongest of the sub-genders, but they survived the loss of their mates, true mates anyway, less often than any other. Something in their make-up seemed to break at the pain it caused; the sense of failure it created, the guilt.

Betas did not feel mating bonds as strongly and usually recovered. Omegas made it through about half of the time, more frequently if there were children to whom they could re-direct the entirety of their devotion, but Alphas...it frequently ended them.

John had nearly lost himself to the agony of the empty space by his side. Dean had been sure for a while that he was going to lose his father along with his mother. He still did not know why his father had gone one way instead of the other and perhaps he never would. All he knew was that one day his father had decided to eat a proper meal. A few days later he had finally held Sammy for the first time and named him for his dead wife's father. It had not been a short journey but his father had eventually reached a place where the wound was not so raw, even if it still ached.

Unfortunately, the physical wounds would never heal. John of Winchester found himself in a precarious position. Being an Alpha meant having a more aggressive nature anyway and other Alphas looked up to the strongest. Some had assumed that John would fade into obscurity along with his family. That had not happened. It had not happened because John had Dean.

Dean had been learning to fight since he was four years old and big enough to lift a small practice sword but more than that, he was simply good at it. It did not matter whether he was shooting arrows at a target, swinging a mace, a sword or if he was armed only with his fists, Dean was lethal before he was even technically a man. He was strongly built but the muscle had been refined through running and swimming into something lean that didn't slow him down; made him able to strike quicker than a snake. He was strong too; the result of his daily training and something inherent.

At twelve, Dean had caught an intruder in D'Or, creeping through the corridors in the dead of night and the man had panicked. Dean never discovered how the man had got inside or if the man had intended to enter Sammy's bed-chamber or if he was just a thief who took an unfortunate turning. It had not mattered. When he had realised whose room the man had entered, a red mist had descended in front of his eyes. Sammy was his, he belonged to Dean even more than he belonged to their father and no one would hurt him. He had only had the small dagger he still kept strapped to his hip at all times but he had not needed anything else.

Dean had barreled after the man and dropped to his knees before he had stopped running, sliding across several inches of stone floor. Before he was back on his feet the man's ankle had been ripped in half; his tendons and muscles flapping loose. Dean had simply pivoted upright and taken the blade to the man's throat; stabbing until the twitching had stopped, growling the whole time.

Sammy's nurse had been screaming in terror, the whole of D'Or coming to life around him in light of the yelling and crashing but Dean had ignored it. He had simply dropped the knife and walked over to Sammy's bed. The boy had been afraid because of the noise but at the sight of his brother, he had broken into a smile and raised his small arms. Dean had picked him up and cuddled Sammy, smearing blood all over the small boy's naked body, as though he had not just killed a man by the most brutal means. He had settled himself into Sammy's bed and held his brother close to his chest until their father arrived.

The following morning, Dean had gone into his first premature rut, confirming his father's long held belief that he would be an Alpha. By the time the rut was over, word of his actions had spread and something of a legend began to spring up around him. It was all a little confusing to Dean. Yes, he had presented three or four years earlier than most and that was odd. Yes, he had killed a man and he was very young to have done so. Yes, the man's body had been seen by others and the almost severed head had inspired some fear, but Dean did not see what else he could have done in the circumstances. Sammy was safe and his father had been proud of him. That was all that really mattered to Dean.

His presenting had led to a huge spurt in growth. At fourteen he was just over six feet tall and somewhat gangly but the muscle had caught up within the year. By the time he was sixteen it was accepted universally that Dean was his father's right hand in every sense of the word. His speed and strength and skill coupled with his father's wisdom made them an unassailable team. He played on that. His father played on it too. John was the mind and Dean was the fist. It was helpful and now, it needed to be put to good use.

The Barons milled around the room for a few more moments; finding seats and nodding at each other politely. When they had all found seats John addressed them, Dean close by his side. "My friends, welcome. We all know why we are here. Two nights ago, York was burned and her people taken captive." John paused and allowed his eyes to drift around the room, giving his words time to sink in. "We must decide what is to be done."

"There is nothing to be done. We have been through this before. Unless we would like our own towns to be next, we must do nothing." Lord Alistair had not changed over the years; not unless becoming more arrogant, sneering and repulsive could be counted as change. As far as Dean saw it, it was simply a natural progression. He could not stop the small growl that erupted from his chest. It was another reason he hated Lord Alistair; the man was almost always able to incense him beyond reason. Alistair noticed the growl and raised his eyebrows, "Something you would like to add? Boy?"

Dean did not rise to the bait, smiling placidly despite the rage coursing through him, "To that statement? No. I expected no different."

Lord Alistair opened his mouth to reply but Lady Harvelle spoke before he could. Dean fought the urge to smile. Of all the Alphas in this room, there were only three to whom he would bow his head willingly in view of their strength and wisdom. His father, Lord Robert and Lady Harvelle. After the death of her husband, at a battle during which she had fought alongside him, people had assumed another Baron would take his place. Lady Harvelle had not openly scoffed at the idea but she had not given it credence either. She had simply assumed the mantle herself, taking command and giving orders, and no one had dared to contradict her. Dean had had something of a crush on her when he was younger, despite the fact she was old enough to be his mother. Female Alphas were rare but not unheard of and Ellen of Harvelle was a strong Alpha. Dean was sure he could count the number of Alphas he had met that were stronger than her on one hand. Her sixteen year-old daughter, Joanna, had also presented as an Alpha the previous year. "What would you have us do, John?" She asked, simply.

John inclined his head to her before speaking, "I would have us fight."

"When you say 'us', you do not include yourself, I presume?" Alistair liked to draw attention to the fact that John was not whole. He seemed to think it made him, Alistair, seem stronger by comparison. Perhaps a few of the Barons agreed with him, but they were not many.

"I do not. I would only hinder the attempt and my ego does not super-cede my wits." John waved a hand towards Dean as though the alternative was obvious and of course, it was. "My son, Dean will command in my place."

Alistair sneered. He was a master of that expression, "No matter. My men will not follow a Pict into battle."

Dean doubted that was entirely true. He knew many of Alistair's men. Some were as bad as him. Some were not. But they would follow him anyway, because he was a strong Alpha. Whether Alistair would allow them to follow Dean was the real question. "Perhaps you should ask them," Dean suggested mildly.

Alistair's eyes flashed, "Perhaps you should let me command your men instead."

Dean fought the urge to laugh. His father would not appreciate his mocking another Lord in this hall. Instead he raised an eyebrow. "So you can retreat from the first man who frightens you?"

Alistair's cheeks flushed red and this time he was the one who let out a growl. He did not like to be reminded that he had retreated from the giant-man while John had stood his ground. He might have publicly denied it, but Dean was not the only one who had seen the action that night. John banged his good hand against the table. "Gentlemen, enough! They are less than three days from the coast. I will not bear this outrage against our lands," John looked at his sons, both of whom met his stare without flinching. "My family will not." Silence fell as all the Barons considered and watched, waiting to see who would speak out. No one did. "Dean will lead my men against the Irish. Who will ride out with him to fight them?"

John looked to Lord Robert who was sitting beside Lady Harvelle. He had not spoken until now and Dean knew that was only because the older Alpha did not see a need. He smiled now and inclined his head to John, but he spoke to Dean, who appreciated the gesture. "If you have to ask whether you have my support, I am already wounded. My men will ride out."

Lady Ellen chuckled, "Of course, our men will join you."

"This can not continue." Dean was surprised that Gordon of Walker was the next to speak up. He had not exactly been counting on the man's support but he was tentatively glad of it none the less. He and Lord Alistair were nearly always among the detractors, but Lord Gordon's support would mean something now. Whatever his other faults, he was fearless in battle. "We will fight...this time."

Dean chose to ignore the careful emphasis on the 'this time'. The man's meaning was clear anyway. He nodded, with as much grace as he could manage, at the older man, "Gratitude, Lord Gordon."

There were rumblings as others agreed that the time to act was now, that these insults could not be borne, that something must be done. In the end, only Alistair had not spoken for action. When the man realised that this was the case he sighed wearily, "What is your plan, Dean?"

Dean did not want Alistair's support. If there was not a chance it could cause a war, Dean would have gutted him like a fish where he stood. Still, more than anything, Dean knew how to do his duty. He swallowed the bile in his throat and addressed the room at large. "I'm going to need the two fastest runners we have."

XXX

Across the sea...

Castiel staggered away from his father's house. He never wanted to see that building again. He never wanted to see his father again. He did not want to be here. He wanted to be away. He could not go back. He would rather die. He wanted to die. He wanted to be dead.

He slipped inside of a small building and looked around. Hannah and Rachel were looking at him with some concern. "Leave me," he gasped.

They obeyed immediately but he knew they wouldn't go far. He suspected they would find Anna and tell her exactly where he was. He did not care if they did. He did not care about much of anything. He leant heavily against the wall. Castiel had been dreading this day for a long time.

His father had been very pleased the day Castiel presented as an Omega. Male Omegas were so very, very rare and his father thought it reflected well on himself that he had managed to father one. Of course, anyone with a brain knew that male Omegas were only born to other, female Omegas but that did not matter to his father. King Crowley only thought about things in relation to himself, not others.

God, he wanted to cry, he wanted to rage and storm and tear this whole hut to pieces. He tried to tell himself that he had known this day would come but it did not help. He tried to persuade himself that it could be worse but he did not believe it. In truth, he did not see how it could possibly be worse.

He had not let himself hope for much. There would be no great love between him and his mate and Castiel had accepted that. All he had hoped for was kindness. He did not need to truly care for his mate if that was not to be and he did not require it in return. All Castiel wanted was someone who was treat him as a person. Now, it did not seem as though that was to be.

Of all the men in his father's court, of all the great warriors, why had his father chosen Uriel?

There was no one in the world that Castiel despised more than the huge, thugish brute of an Alpha. He smelled terrible. He drank too much and liked to grab and grope the women and men of the court, whether they liked it or not. He did not care for anything or anyone. Except he had, apparently, requested Castiel.

Castiel was no fool. He knew why Uriel wanted him. If he mated himself to the King's son, after the King died, Uriel himself would be king in all but name, at least until their children came of age. Castiel felt his stomach turn over. There would be children.

He fought the urge to vomit as he imagined Uriel coming to him. Would his face be pressed down? Would Uriel care whether he was ready for the Alpha's knot? Would he care if he bruised Castiel's body or even broke his bones? Castiel knew the answers. He wished he could cry but the pain was too fresh for that; too deep.

He sank down to the floor and buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around himself to shut out any daylight that might intrude. He needed darkness. He breathed deeply and took in the smell of the place. This was his sanctuary; the place he usually came for clarity. He and Anna had spent whole days here as Rachel and Hannah taught him all they knew of medicines, potions and unguents. He loved it here. It did not help him feel better this time and that realisation made his despair worse.

Castiel did not know how much time had passed when there was a knock at the door he had shut behind himself. His thoughts were swirling around inside of his head. He did not bother to answer and the door opened anyway.

Anna's familiar fragrance carried in on the breath of wind that entered with her. "Oh, my poor prince." She approached him slowly and carefully as though he might bolt if she moved too quickly. Castiel was not entirely sure she was wrong. She sat down next to him and pressed herself to his side. He could not decide if he was grateful for her offer of comfort or not. He appreciated that she was trying but all it did was throw his pain into sharp relief. "Who is it?"

Castiel was not surprised she had discerned the reason for his despair. "Uriel."

Anna gasped and reached for his hand. "Oh, please God, no."

"I understand," Castiel said quietly.

"What? What do you understand, my prince?"

"I understand why she did it."

"Oh, no. No, you must not say that." Anna sounded positively frantic. Castiel did not know how to comfort her, even though they had always been able to comfort each other in the past. She could not help him and he could not help her. It was a poor conclusion. He did not want to hurt Anna, but he could not find it in himself to deny the words.

"I can not do this, Anna. I can not bear it." It felt like a confession. Castiel had always wanted to be strong but he felt as though he was breaking inside.

He felt Anna grasp his shoulders and turn him towards her. He obeyed the pressure of her hands without even thinking. "Please, Castiel," she rarely used his given name. It was obviously a mark of her distress. "Please do not say that, I beg you."

"It is the truth. I would rather die."

"Would you do that? Would you leave me here without you?" He finally met her eyes. He might not be able to cry, but she was weeping for them both.

"I'm sorry."

"You do not have to be sorry. Just, please do not leave me here alone."

Castiel sought the words but he could not find them. "I will try, Anna."

"That is not good enough."

"I know. But it is all I have." Anna let out a gasp of pain and wrapped her arms around him, murmuring comforting nonsense he barely heard.

XXX

"I hear you have some skill with medicines."

Castiel wanted to leap out of his skin at the sound of Uriel's voice and he almost dropped the pestle he was holding. Fortunately, years of self-control allowed him to hide his surprise. He turned to Uriel and gave him a slightly imperious look. The huge man's eyes were boring into him. There was something close to a small smile on his lips but otherwise his face was calm. His attempts at control were almost amusing. Castiel could smell the man anyway; could smell the pungent aroma of aroused Alpha. He did not let his mouth curl in disgust. He would not give the man the satisfaction. "It has been said," he replied.

Uriel's smiled widened and he took a step inside. "I like potions too."

Castiel felt the flesh on the back of his neck beginning to crawl. Uriel was all but leering at him. He wanted to shove the huge man out of the hut. This was his place. It belonged to him and Anna and Rachel and Hannah. Uriel was not welcome here. Battling against his instincts, Castiel simply raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

Uriel nodded and smiled, showing brick-like, discoloured teeth. They contrasted with his dark skin in a way that Castiel found truly disturbing but he knew it was not fact of it so much as the source. Uriel did not seem to notice Castiel's discomfort or if he did, the man did not care. He reached for the hilt of his sword and unsheathed it with a flourish. "I coat this with a poison before every battle. It is extracted from puffer-fish."

Uriel's words were gentle but Castiel was not fooled for one moment. The brute of a man was attempting to intimidate him. Castiel turned back to the table and reached for a small marble bowl. He took a pinch of the power within and held it up. "This will render it safe."

Uriel's eyes darkened but the expression passed quickly, "You're father has given you the news?"

Castiel scowled, Uriel knew the answer to that question. "He has."

"And you welcome it?" Castiel fought the urge to whirl around and spit in the man's wretched face. "I accept it," he said instead.

There was a grunt from behind him. "When do you next go into heat?"

Castiel wanted to scream. He was glad that there were no sharp blades within reaching distance. He might just kill the man and damn the consequences. "More than a month from now, less than two." He wanted to lie but knew there was no point. He would not be able to hide his heat anyway; he never could.

Uriel grunted again, but this time he sounded pleased. "When I return from York we will be married."

"I suppose that is so." Most couples who mated did not bother with a traditional marriage ceremony. Only royalty and those set high within the court took the time or trouble. As a prince, Castiel would have no choice but to go through the whole thing.

"It is." Castiel felt Uriel's fingers touch his face before he realised the man was reaching for him. He had to fight had against the urge to gag at the stench coming from the man. It was not that Uriel was unclean, it was simply that everything about him was abhorrent to Castiel. He fought hard and did not move away. "I look forward to our wedding night, little Omega."

Castiel bristled. There were no words for how much he hated this. He had never met another male Omega so he had no way to compare, but he was not like the females he had met. He knew what a normal female Omega would probably do now, faced with the same situation. However much she might hate her future mate, she would drop her eyes and stare passively at the floor. At least, that is how Castiel's father described appropriate Omega behaviour.

A small part of him wished that he could do that. It might make his life a little bit easier if he did. Instead, Castiel raised his eyes and stared hard at the Alpha. "I do not." Then he turned back to the table without another word.

There was a growl behind him, but Castiel refused to let himself be intimidated by it. Uriel might do many things to him once they were mated, but he would not do any of them yet. Castiel was sure of it, almost sure. "You will not speak to me that way once we are mated, my prince. Not once you are squirming on my fat knot. I'm going to bend you over a table, rub myself through your slick and fuck you hard."

Castiel swallowed hard. No one had ever said anything quite so vulgar to him before. Of course he had heard the men talking and the servants joking and laughing, but none of them would have dared to say that directly to their prince. He should not answer and he knew it. There was nothing to be gained by provoking the man. He just could not seem to stop himself, "I doubt I will be slick for you."

Suddenly, Uriel was pressed behind him and, oh God, Castiel could feel the outline of the man's half-hard cock at his back. "You will be during your heat," Uriel said with an unpleasant chuckle. "Outside of your heat, well..." He laughed harder this time. "I'll fuck your ass dry until you beg me to spit on you." Castiel shivered and Uriel stepped back. "I will not be gone long."

Once he was out of the door, Castiel let out the breath he had been holding. Uriel probably thought he had intimidated Castiel, in reality he had only managed to repulse and disgust his intended mate. When Uriel returned, they would be married. Castiel wondered if he truly had it in him to survive this.

Chapter Text

Dean was not happy that Jo was here and he was having a difficult time concealing it. She was a strong Alpha. She could fight like a demon. She was a good woman to have at your side. She was also one of the people Dean loved most in all the world. Only Sammy and his father out-ranked her in that regard. Jo, Ellen, Robert, they were his extended family. If something happened to Jo today in the process of his plan being carried out, Dean knew he would never forgive himself.

He would have stopped her if he could but it had proven to be impossible. She was determined and her mother had backed her up. Dean could tell that it was the last thing Ellen wanted but Jo was her only child. Ellen wanted Jo to govern Harvelle one day. That would never happen if she was untested in battle. Women did not fight as a rule, regardless of their sub-gender, but if they did, they were Alphas.

As Dean crouched, waiting, he could not stop himself from glancing over at her again and again, as she sat waiting with her men. She was not going to die here today. He would rip every single one of his adversaries apart with his bare hands and teeth before he would let it happen. He would protect her, whether she wanted him to or not.

His hands continually drifted down to his weapons. There was a bow slung over his shoulder; twenty arrows in the quiver across his back. It could be useful before they got close. There was a sword strapped to his left hip so he could draw it easily with his right hand. There were small blades attached to leather straps across his chest. They could be thrown or used in close quarters as necessary. Across his back were two axes, again, they could be thrown if need be. In his right hand was a spear tipped with iron. It was his least favorite weapon as it was unwieldy but Dean could still hurl it with deadly accuracy.

He glanced across at Jo again only to find that this time she was staring back at him, a small smile on her face as though she knew exactly what he had been thinking about her. She seemed to find his protectiveness endearing though she put little stock in it. Her smiled widened a little as she mouthed the words 'not long now'.

Dean nodded back but he could not bring himself to return her smile. He wished he could fight next to her but that was not how it was done. The men (and woman) here were under his command, it was true, but they would fight alongside their own people at least at first. Once the battle was truly under way people would begin to scatter. Dean had already decided he would make sure he was close to her.

She wrenched her eyes away from his, now almost grinning at the uncomfortable look on his face. Jo definitely knew what he was thinking. He only hoped she would find it so amusing once he was practically on top of her; growling at anyone who threatened. It was harder for him to hide his Alpha side when he fought. Something about battle brought it out.

Telling himself that he had to focus, Dean peered out from beneath the cover they had made themselves. Most of his men were behind him in the trees, but Dean and some of the others were just in front of the tree-line hidden beneath a hastily constructed shelter of leaves and grass and branches. They were not as well hidden as he would have liked but it would not have to fool anyone for long. The spot was perfect though, a natural meadow in the woods.

Dean took some deep breaths, readying himself. By his fourth inhale he started to hear men approaching on horse back. They were far easier to hear. A grim smile spread across his face and he knew what he would see before the first shapes burst out of the trees. Two men on foot running as fast as they possibly could towards him; his men. Their eyes started to scan the terrain in front of them immediately and Dean counted out a long six seconds before the trees opposite rustled again.

Eight men on horseback. Irish men. That was good. Eight was a good number; more than he had hoped for in any event. His muscles tensed in anticipation as he watched his plan play out. His two runners had drawn eight of the Irish away from their caravan and any second...

"Now!" He bellowed and threw the covering off his head. He leapt to his feet and aimed for the rider at the back. He raised the arm holding the spear and let it fly. It was not a difficult shot, not for Dean. He gave a triumphant growl as his target fell backwards off his horse. Before the man had hit the ground, Dean was aiming again, this time with his bow. Three out of the remaining seven had already been felled and he watched another go down as his arrow hit home. There was no time to draw back again before all eight men lay dead or dying. He let out a relieved sigh. He had not anticipated any casualties on their side at this point, but it was good to know for certain. He took two steps forward, drawing his sword, and severed the head of the fallen man closest to him before slipping it back into it's sheath. "This one will do. Bloody the face. Take the horses and their mail, their helmets. Go! We have only minutes."

They had not been able to bring their own horses this close for fear they would make a noise or be spotted too soon. These horses however, these horses were fair game. There was a flurry of activity. Each man knew his number, Dean had made sure of it. He had also made sure there was a dozen men with numbers on the off chance they got very, very lucky. He had honestly expected no more than four of the Irish to give chase. The men with numbers between one and eight quickly began to strip the fallen bodies of amour and weapons, suiting themselves up and mounting the horses. Dean did want or need a horse. He was better this way. "The rest of you, with me!"

He began to sprint back the way the two runners had come. Those on horses would get ahead of them, of course. That was the point of disguising themselves; to give them a chance to kill a few more before they were revealed. Still, Dean knew those on foot needed to set off now in order to get to the battle as soon as possible.

He did not look behind him to see if his men were following, he knew they would be. Instead, he made his way through the closely thronged trees as quietly as he could without slowing his pace too much. Fortunately, there was a sprinkling of pine needles to muffle his steps. He would be grateful for small favors.

Dean had picked the spot specifically; the spot where the two runners hid and waited for the caravan of soldiers and prisoners to approach. It was a relatively open space but surrounded by trees on every side except that of the road itself. They would be able to get close before they were seen and the leaves would disguise the true identity of the new riders until they were almost on top of the Irish.

Dean started to hear noises up ahead. There was more horses and grating laughter and somewhere beneath it, the sounds of women crying. Almost as soon as he heard them, he began to be able to smell them. It was an odd mix of joviality and fear that assaulted his nose but it just made him angry; that men could be laughing and joking while women and children were in fear for their lives. His Alpha instincts roared to the surface. These were Lord Rufus' people and as far as Dean was concerned that made them his own people too. He would save them.

The sound of horses approaching from behind filled his ears; his own men. He ducked behind a tree to let them pass. He could clearly recognise Garth at the front, holding the head Dean had cut from the Irishman aloft in front of him. Garth saw him too and flashed Dean a quick grin as they passed.

As soon as the horses were through Dean continued his advance. There didn't need to be much space between them. The Irish would be looking for their own men. They would be pleased at the sight of the head being carried. He dodged through the forest on silent feet, listening as closely as he could. He could hear the cheers now. He had been right, "Here!...They've got a head...head is it?...A head!..."

Dean moved faster. There were barely feet between them now. If any of the Irishmen looked at the trees they might see movement. If they did, it would not truly matter now. He and his men were almost on them. They were so close. Dean heard as the cheers died off abruptly and a gasping gurgle broke through instead. Someone had just died, probably at the end of a sword. The timing was flawless.

He burst through the trees with a roar and immediately threw himself towards the closest man. He was tall and he had obviously turned to watch those carrying the head. Perfect. Dean drew one of his small blades and cut deeply into the man's throat. Then, pandemonium broke out.

Angry bellows echoed around and through the trees. His men had emerged hot on his heels and were throwing themselves into the fight with a savagery that made Dean proud. His vision seemed to narrow or rather, to focus. He was aware of almost everything. A man was hurtling towards him in full mail but he did not concern Dean who dropped down to his knee at the last possible moment. The blade he had used to cut the first man's throat was still in his hand. Now, he found it a home inside the second man's thigh, pushing with all his might until he felt the flesh tear and the warm spatter of blood on his fingers. The was a scream of pain but Dean had already moved on. The second man was dead too, he just didn't know it yet.

The scent of warm, wet blood was filling the air now. It belonged to both Alphas and Betas. Dean's eyes scanned the fallen bodies. He could not, as yet, see anyone he cared about on the ground.

Garth was still atop his horse, hacking down at two men at the same time. That was good. The Irish had men ahorse, they would need them too.

Jo had thrown herself at the man closest to her as she appeared from between the leaves but he was dead now. As was the second who had faced her. Now, she stood in front a soldier who held a sword and was growling at her. Jo growled back and ducked under the man's clumsy swing. She would not fall to that fool. His words proved true a moment later when Jo slashed upwards and Dean saw the man's jaw flop unpleasantly. He smiled, he had taught her that.

His elation was short-lived. "Kill the slaves!" The words washed over Dean like cold water. His head snapped round and for long seconds it felt as those his heart had ceased to beat inside his chest. He had heard much of the giant-man, Uriel, over the years since his mother's death but he had never seen him again. Not until now. Now, the man himself stood next to a huge caged wagon filled with women and children. He was still huge but Dean had remembered him being even bigger. Whether an error in his memory or a misconception based on childhood, he did not know. He did not care. Dean was already running.

As Dean ran, Uriel thrust his sword into the openings of the cage. Screams came from the helpless people within and Dean let out a bellow of fury. He was still more than twenty feet away and he could not bear to think of how many would die in the time it would take him to cover the distance.

An arrow flew past Dean's head and lodged itself in Uriel's arm.  The man roared his outrage, pausing in his stabbing, yanking the arrow free of his flesh. Dean scanned behind him for half a second to see where the arrow had come from and his eyes landed on Jo; she was smiling at him, another arrow notched in her bow and ready to fire. Dean managed a grin this time and turned back, running again.

Men were screaming and roaring all around him but he could not stop to see if they were friend or foe. The women in the cage, the children; they were the reason for this. Dean had to save them. Another arrow appeared in Uriel's shoulder as he braced himself to thrust his sword into the cage again. Dean gave thanks for Jo and her sure aim. Less than ten feet now, five...

Uriel looked up when Dean was almost on top of him and growled, baring his teeth. Dean dragged his sword from it's sheath and raised it above his head. Uriel seemed to be expecting the move, however and he raised his own to block Dean's attack. It felt as though Dean had hit a piece of stone, such was the strength in the man's arms. His own seemed to vibrate with the impact of it.

He pivoted on his toes and took a step backwards, a low growl sounding in his throat. Dean did not know who actually killed his mother and neither did his father. He and John had talked about that night many times in the past but they could not be sure who had actually put the knife in Mary's chest. To Dean however, this man was responsible whether he had wielded the blade or not. Uriel, the giant-man, was the one he could see most clearly when he remembered that night. Uriel was going to die here today.

Dean forced his mind, and his Alpha, to focus. Brute strength would not accomplish his goal. Uriel was his equal if not his superior in that regard and Dean would be a fool not to acknowledge it. Dean was not a fool and he waited, holding his ground.

Uriel swung his sword towards Dean's left side in a lightning attack but Dean did not attempt to block it. Rather, he ducked out of the way and let the blade soar past him. He did not want to risk tiring himself by meeting Uriel's sword. The bigger man grunted as own body weight worked against him and Dean felt a grim satisfaction, forcing himself to remain calm and aware.

The battle raged around them but Dean did not let himself be distracted. This was the true fight, right here. Uriel was leading them today. If he fell, the others would crumble easily. Dean ducked and dodged and let Uriel keep swinging. The bigger man was stronger but Dean was faster, more agile. He did not need to rely on strength in the way that Uriel seemed to. He dropped to a knee and rolled. It was a movement he had perfected over the years and he was on his feet behind Uriel in less than a second. He let himself have the satisfaction of thrusting forward, cutting into Uriel's shoulder. It was a superficial wound but his Alpha crowed happily. First blood went to Dean.

Uriel bellowed and growled turning to face his adversary again. He slashed forwards but Dean had already dodged back and out of range. This was what he needed to do; force the man to tire himself. It might take a while but Dean did not doubt himself. All men tired eventually and Uriel was growing angry. It only helped Dean to focus and remain calm. He felt curiously detached, as though he was watching the fight unfold from a comfortable distance.

There was fire pumping through his blood but he did not feel out of control. This was the moment he had been waiting for for a long time. He briefly imagined telling his father that Uriel was dead. John would be pleased, Dean would make his father proud. He could not imagine anything sweeter.

Uriel thrust his sword forwards but Dean blocked it, the blow glancing to the side. Uriel growled again. Dean had to wonder how many fights Uriel had ever had that lasted this long. He flattered himself that they would probably not number high. The man was clearly getting angrier with each passing second. His attacks were coming more quickly and Dean was grudgingly impressed at how accurate they remained in spite of this. There was no doubt that the man was a skilled fighter. The fact that he had been able to overpower John of Winchester in his prime was not all that surprising.

Dean dodged and blocked at least thirty attacks. The thirty-first slipped through and nicked his shoulder but Dean barely felt it. He was waiting, waiting for the perfect opening. Uriel was growling with every breath, shifting his weight in agitation as he tried to put Dean down; as though he was a fly Uriel was desperately trying to squash. Desperation was his enemy.

Dean had been waiting for it; the moment when Uriel thrust forwards with too much anger and almost took himself off balance. He could see it happening as clear as glass. It was not a huge error but it was enough; it was all that Dean needed. Uriel would need at least a second to correct his movement. His left hand darted over his shoulder and snatched one of the axes from where it rested against his back. The weight felt good in his hand, comforting and familiar. It belonged there.

This time when Uriel bellowed, it was in pain. Dean swung the ax down across Uriel's outstretched sword hand with all the force he could muster. The feeling of flesh and bone crunching under the blow was familiar but it had never, ever been so satisfying. Uriel had thick arms and Dean had not managed to sever his hand entirely, it was still held in place by a little flesh, but it was enough. Uriel's hand now useless to him, his sword clattered to the ground and this time, Dean was the one to growl.

His triumphant exclamation echoed through the trees as Dean kicked the man's sword away. Uriel sank to his knees, clutching what remained of his hand to his chest. For the first time since they had begun their battle, Dean let his Alpha out just a little. The rumbling echoed through his chest and in that moment he was not entirely himself, not as he was now. He was at least partly the nine year-old boy who had looked down at his parent's broken bodies and believed he was all alone in the world. He was as he had been in that moment before he had discovered Sammy and realised his father was still alive.

Anger, pain and a perverted type of joy ricocheted through him as he took a step towards the fallen man, the fallen giant-man who had for years haunted his nightmares. Uriel was gasping with pain and the blood flowed freely from the wound even as he tried to staunch it. Dean had to fight hard to speak over his own growling. "I want you to know," he managed, "That you deserve this."

Uriel opened his mouth but whether he had intended to speak or growl Dean did not care. He raised his sword and brought it down on the side of Uriel's neck. Dean had not cut through and blood poured from Uriel's open mouth; a gurgling sound coming out as the man choked and gasped. Dean heard it with perfect clarity, he had never heard anything more beautiful. He had to use all his strength to pull his sword free of Uriel's neck but he relished the twinge of his muscles as he did so. He swung it again and this time Uriel's head separated from his body. It twisted almost half-way round before falling to the earth with a small thud.

Dean let out a sound he had never heard himself make before. It was somewhere between a growl and a cry and scream. He wanted to weep. He sank to his knees, feeling as though something noxious was pouring from his body. He had not even known it was inside of him but now it was leaving. The 'something' had lived inside of him for years and the relief at having it leave was almost over-whelming.

For long moments he almost forgot where he was. Somewhere inside he knew that there was a still a battle to be fought but it did not feel as though it mattered. His battle was fought, his battle was won. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. A hand pressed firmly to his shoulder brought him back out of himself; back to the world around him. "Dean?"

He raised his head and found himself staring directly into Jo's blue eyes. They were quite beautiful really. He had always thought they were her best feature. Jo. She was here with him. There was blood on her face but she was still standing. Dean felt ashamed of himself. How could he have thought that nothing mattered? Jo was here and she mattered. Thinking that she did not was the worst kind of blasphemy.

Dean jumped to his feet clutching his sword tightly in his hand. His eyes scanned the forest around him, searching for anyone who might want to get near her. "Dean, it is over."

For a long moment he did not look at her, still scanning the people around them. "I...I do not..."

"The Irish have scattered," she said calmly. "You have won."

He finally saw the people around him rather than looking through them. "I...we have won," he repeated.

"Yes," she said. "We should free the people."

He turned and managed to offer her a small smile. His Alpha was retreating slowly. His vision was returning to normal. He allowed himself one final look at Uriel, thinking how small the man looked lying on the ground. "I...I would like that."

He heard Jo chuckle and turned to see her offer her hand to him. He put his own in it and let her tug him close to her. Dean knew what she was offering and buried his face in her neck, scenting her, crushing her small body to his chest. It was not something he would normally do in front of others but he needed to and Jo seemed to know that. He needed to know, to be sure, that she was here and safe and alive. Her familiar scent, apples and honeysuckle, brought him back to himself more quickly than he could have hoped. She snuffled around his neck gently in return but he knew it was more for comfort than clarity. He breathed and his Alpha sighed contentedly. Pack. Family. Home. They were safe now. It was over. "I love you, Dean. My sweet brother."

Jo had not called him that in years and he felt his heart constrict in his chest. She used to pretend that Sam and Dean were both her brothers; after she realised she would never have any siblings.  Her words meant more than he could express so he buried his face more deeply into her skin. "I love you too, Joanna."

After a long moment she stepped back and then punched him on the shoulder, "Do not call me Joanna."

He smiled, "Try and stop me." Dean tangled their fingers together and followed her towards the wagon where the prisoners still whimpered. He was pleased to note there was far less fear coming from them now. His head was swimming a little but he shook it distractedly. He needed to focus for a little while longer.

"One of these days, Dean." She laughed.

"Hmmm, keep hoping."

"I will, I...Dean?" The world tilted unpleasantly. Dean did not know what was happening until he felt pain in his legs and looked down. He had dropped to his knees. "Dean! Speak to me, please!"

Dean opened his mouth but his throat seemed to be closing. He felt his back hit the ground. He could still smell the pine all around him but everything else seemed to be receding. Jo was leaning over him but his vision was blurring and he could only be sure it was her because of her long hair trailing over her shoulder. Other faces appeared next to hers but Dean could not be sure who any of them were. He could not make out their features and they did not seem to have a scent.

He felt as though he was listening to people speaking from a great distance away. He wanted to sleep. "...poison. I can smell it....Dean! No, Dean!..."

Jo was crying. Dean wanted to reach out and pull her to his chest; to comfort her but his limbs were so heavy. Sleep, he needed to sleep.

XXX

Across the sea...

Castiel held Anna'a hand as they walked along the coast. It was a beautiful day. The air was as crisp and clear and clean as he had ever known it. The waves lapped at the shore in a familiar rythym that usually soothed him better than anything. Gulls circled overhead, just a little way out to sea. They were probably fishing. A warm breeze blew through his hair like gentle fingers. He wished he could take comfort in it; in any of it.

He walked slowly across the sand. Anna did not speak but she did not need to. As a Beta her sense of smell was not as powerful as either an Alpha or an Omega, but Castiel suspected that it did not need to be. He knew she could smell the waves of pain and desperation rolling off him. He knew because he could feel the same thing coming from her in sympathy. She was feeling everything he was because she loved him.

Even before his mother's death, Anna had always been there. She had been his mother's handmaiden. By rights, Castiel should have had his own servants to attend him as soon as he was able to walk but his mother had not allowed it. It was one of the few things Castiel could remember her standing firm on. She did not want to be parted from her son for long periods of time and there was no reason that Anna could not see to both of their needs.

It would have changed as he grew, Castiel had no doubt, but then his mother was dead and there was just him and Anna. She could be trusted and she knew how to take care of him. Why would his father bother with anyone else?

Now, he half-wished that she had been replaced while he was a child. If he did not love her so very much things would be easier. He would not have to suffer the outrage of being married off to Uriel for one thing. He would have felt a hollow victory in knowing that he would take his own life before he would be bedded by that brute. Castiel could ruin Uriel's hopes and end his father's line with one simple act. It would not even be hard. He knew poisons that would kill him without pain. He could climb until he found a high enough place and throw himself off. He could simply walk into the sea until it was too deep for him to stand then raise his feet. That might have been the best way, to float until he was too tired and then let himself sink.

But there was Anna. Without him, she would have nothing. She had no family, no friends. She had him. For the last twelve years and even before, her life had been by his side. She slept in his room, she shared his meals, she rarely left his side by choice. How could he leave her if he knew he was inflicting the same pain his own mother had inflicted on him?

Anna squeezed his hand as though she was reading his mind. "Would you like to swim, my prince?"

Castiel did not smile but it was hard considering the turn his thoughts had just been taking. "Not today. I would like to..." His voice trailed off and he sighed, "I do not know what I want to do."

This had been happening to him frequently since Uriel's departure. He was alternately furious, ambivalent and then lethargic. He just felt trapped. Anna had coaxed him out for a walk with some difficulty, telling him that he was growing too pale from all his time indoors. All Castiel had wanted to do was sleep; to wait for the next wave of anger. "I want to help you," Anna all but whispered.

"I know you do," Castiel replied. "I just do not know what you can do."

"I will be here," Anna declared. "No matter what happens, my prince. I will always stand by your side."

Castiel appreciated the gesture and smiled at her. "I know that, too." He did not say what he was truly thinking as he did not want to hurt her. He did not say that she could not always stand by his side. He did not want to remind her that when Uriel returned and they were married, she would not be the one forced to lie beneath the animal. She would not be the one to tear or bleed or bruise; perhaps even the one to break. He did not say these things because he understood very clearly that if Anna had been able to take his place in this, she would.

"Do you wish to return?"

Did he? Did he want to go back to the place he called home? It did not feel like a 'home', not truly. It felt like a prison; a place he was kept, a place he would never be allowed to leave. His father had always kept him close and when he was mated to Uriel, Uriel would be there too. He wanted to run. He never wanted to see the place again. "Not yet," he replied mildly. "Let us walk a little more."

Anna nodded and squeezed his hand as they continued. They would still be able to do this, after... Assuming that Uriel did not hurt him so badly he could not walk. They would still be able to take walks on the beach. The sand shifted between his feet as they walked. Castiel liked the feel of it. He liked the way it yielded to his... "What is that?"

Anna's voice cut through his silent musings and she raised her hand to point ahead of them. There was something lying on the beach in the distance. It was difficult for him to make out it's shape from this far away, so he knew that Anna could discern even less. His sense of smell was not the only thing heightened by his sub-gender. "I am not sure." Castiel took a few steps closer, "It might be a wrecked boat."

Anna hesitated but Castiel did not. When she tried to hold him back, he dropped her hand and continued alone. His curiosity was piqued. Wrecked fishing boats were not uncommon on the shore, but they were usually scavenged quickly. Castiel would have expected to see people around a wreck, pulling free whatever they could. Anna hurried to catch up with his long strides as he trudged through the sand.

It did not take long for the shape to become clear to him. It was a boat, but not one for fishing. It was too small. It reminded him unpleasantly of his mother's funeral barge but it was even smaller than that. He quickened his steps and Anna was forced to jog to try and keep up with him. When he broke into a trot, Anna lost whatever ground she had gained and fell behind him.

Castiel moved as quickly as he was able though he did not know why he was so eager to see this small vessel for himself. His eyes began to pick out details. It would hold no more than three people. It was tipped over, presenting it's hull to Castiel's eyes. There was an oddly discoloured patch on it's starboard side as though someone had splattered mud or pitch there.

He drew close and began to circle it's stern. Once he was able to see down into the belly of it, he froze where he stood. "What is it, my prince?" Anna's voice carried on the wind.

She was still coming towards him but Castiel did not look up at her. His eyes were fixed on the shape lying half-in and half-out of the boat. "A man," he breathed. Castiel was not sure how he had forced the words out. His breath had been snatched by the surprise he felt.

"Dead?" Anna called but this time he did not answer her immediately.

Instead, Castiel knelt down and peered at the man's face. He was as pale as linen. There was a waxy quality to his skin that brought a fish's belly unpleasantly to mind. There were grains of sand clinging to the side of his face. For all that, Castiel thought he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. His lips were full. His cheekbones protruded from his face in a way that touched something inside of Castiel. There was a smoothness to his skin, beneath the pallor, that spoke of...something.

The man's clothes were wet beneath him but the sun had clearly started to dry the wool of his tunic. Castiel breathed deeply, relying on his nose to give him some sense of this man. Disturbingly, he could not discern anything beyond the smell of the sea.  It would have suggested that the man was, indeed, dead but there was no smell of rot either.

Castiel reached out with tentative fingers to touch the man's hand. It was cold to his touch, but it also felt slightly clammy. That did not make sense. If the man was dead his skin would have begun drying in the sun. It would have dried much faster than his woolen tunic, certainly. Dropping to his knees, Castiel held his fingers beneath the man's nose. He could not feel the man breathing but he knew that could be because of the breeze coming off the sea.

Frowning, Castiel shuffled a little closer. "My prince, stop, please."

Anna had stopped in her tracks but Castiel did not look up at her. He could not seem to tear his eyes away from the man. He could not feel a heartbeat in the man's wrists or at his throat but, for some reason, he did not stop searching. Something was not right. Everything he saw, everything he could smell, told him this was a corpse. But the man did not feel like a corpse to Castiel.

Throwing caution to the wind, Castiel leant forwards and pressed his ear to the man's chest. Beneath the soft whistle of the wind and the gentle crashing of the waves, Castiel heard it. The steady thumping of a heart, a living heart. "Alive," Castiel called. "Anna, he lives. Help me, please!" He heard the sound of Anna approaching but he still couldn't bring himself to look at her. He had to do something, he had to help this man. His eyes quickly scanned the beach. He knew this coast better than almost anyone. Long stretches of his childhood had been spent here. "We'll take him to the cave," Castiel pointed.

"My prince, he does not belong here. He has come from over the sea."

Castiel glanced at the clothing the man was wearing and realised that Anna was right. He also found that he did not care. His heart was pounding in his chest. He did not know what this would lead to, but he knew what he had to do. He finally met Anna's eyes for the first time since he had run on ahead of her, "Help me with him, please."

Anna bit her lip hard but knelt at his side helped Castiel drag the man free of the boat. Whatever her doubts, she clearly would not deny him this; the first thing that animated him at all since he had heard the news of his marriage. Castiel could probably have lifted the man alone had he been conscious. As it was, the dead weight was just a little too much. He managed to drag the man's body up to his chest and Castiel gripped his own wrist beneath the man's arms.

Castiel staggered to his feet, dragging the terrific weight with him. The man was heavier than he looked. "Take his...feet, Anna." Anna did as she was asked.

Together they lifted and struggled and dragged the man towards the spot where Castiel knew there was a natural cave hollowed out of the rock. When he was a child, men would meet there to drink. Sometimes couples would meet for trysts but as the King expanded his own properties it had been forbidden. Castiel's father did not want people wandering around in the dead of night so close to his castle.

Now, Castiel dragged the man's body the final few feet to lay him down under the cover of the rock. Anna collapsed onto the floor gasping but Castiel had little attention to spare for her. He was still entranced. He leant over the man and stared hard. He still could not smell anything but he thought he understood that now. If the man had travelled over the sea in this state he had probably been soaked by the water again and again for days. He understood the boat too. It had been built to send this man on his final journey. His friends, whoever they were, must have thought he was dead. His heart was beating only faintly; it had weakened his scent to the point where it was undetectable.

Castiel frowned. If the man's friends had thought him dead... His eyes raked over the man's body. There were no obvious wounds that he could see, nothing except for a small cut that had torn the man's shirt. Castiel pried open the gap. There were black lines spreading out from the cut. He could not smell anything but he knew what it meant. "He's been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Anna's voice took him a little off guard. Castiel had almost forgotten that she was there, he had simply been thinking aloud. Odd, really.

"Yes. I can not smell it, it must have been washed away, but it's there."

"Should I fetch a remedy?"

He considered that for a moment. If the man was not dead, it was likely that he had not had a strong enough dose of whatever it was to kill him. On the other hand, his recovery would be hastened by a remedy; something generic that would not lead to further damge. "Perhaps, but we must take care. No one must know he is here." Castiel did not like to think of what his father might do to if he found out about this.

Anna let our a humourless chuckle, "Yes, my prince." Apparently, his warning was not necessary.

Castiel reached out and clasped the man's hand again. His skin was still clammy. "More than a remedy, he needs heat. We must warm him up."

Anna got to her feet and Castiel heard her rummage around the cave, collecting whatever she could find to make a small fire. He frowned. It would take time to make a fire and then time for the fire's heat to fill the cave. Then it would take even longer for the warmth to have any effect on the man. It was not enough.

Castiel got to his feet and began to strip off his clothes. "My prince, what are you...?"

"He needs warmth now." Castiel pulled his tunic over his head and stepped out of his leggings. He laid his clothes over the man's pale skin. He was lowering himself to lie down next to the man when he looked up at Anna, who was staring at him with a disapproving smile on her face. "You too, Anna." Anna's eyes widened for a moment but Castiel could not see any cause for her to object. The man was unconscious and would stay that way for some time. She and Castiel had seen each other naked many times in the past but still, she blushed. "Now, Anna."

Anna frowned but began to work at the laces of her dress. Castiel settled himself close to the man and began to pull at the still wet tunic. He tugged at the offending fabric until he was able to push it up high on the man's chest. It would do for now. He pressed himself against the cool flesh, draping one of the man's arms over him and fought not to shiver. With Anna on one side and him on the other, it should not be long before...

Castiel shuddered, hard. He did not know if the scent had somehow been preserved on the inside of the cloth or if this patch of skin had been exposed to the seas less than the rest but he could smell it now. His mind whirled as multiple thoughts and realisations crashed over him one after the other. Everything receded from his mind except the feeling, the scent, the sudden and inescapable need...

Pine trees...wood...warm, sweet earth...Alpha...strong Alpha...My Alpha...Alpha!...Mine! Mine! Mine! Always mine! My Mate!

Castiel clutched tighter at the man's body convulsively. He could feel his cock stiffening. It was just happening.  He felt wet suddenly.  His hole was aching with the need to be filled. He wanted this Alpha to fill him, but he wanted to crawl inside too. He never wanted to let go. This man was his. He would never let anyone take him away. His Alpha! He wanted to trail his lips over every inch of skin he could get to. His Alpha! He had never dreamed he would find someone who smelled this good. He wanted to get rid of every stitch of clothing still between them and rub himself over the man until they smelled exactly the same; until they smelled of each other, only each other.

As though she was unaware of the world shifting around them, Anna lay down behind the man and a growl such as Castiel had never produced in his life ripped it's way from his throat and chest. "MINE!" He didn't understand what was happening but he knew exactly what was happening, all at the same time. The growl carried on beyond the word and he bared his teeth at Anna.

She gave a squeal of alarm and backed away immediately. Anna fumbled over her own limbs and collapsed backward, staring at Castiel in horror. She landed hard on her elbows and the scent of her blood hit the air.

For a horrifying moment, Castiel rejoiced. This Beta had no right and no business touching his Alpha. He was glad she was hurt. She deserved it. She deserved worse. If she tried again, Castiel would stop her. He would tear her lungs from her body if she so much as came within reaching distance. No one would touch his mate. No one would ever, ever...

Anna whimpered with the pain and tears flooded her eyes. She was trying to crawl away from him even though she was lying sprawled, naked on her back. She was naked because Castiel had told her to strip. She was naked because Castiel had demanded she help him warm up this man's body. Castiel tried to force the rage away.

Had he truly just thought of attacking Anna? He had, he knew he had. "Anna, apologies...I..." Castiel could not find the words. He looked away from the fear on her face. No one had ever looked at him like that before, but seeing it in Anna's eyes sent a lance of pain through his body. His eyes drifted almost automatically to the man he was holding in his arms and once again, everything else receded. His mate's scent could comfort him. Castiel gathered the man closer to his body and pressed his face to the still cool skin.

"Oh my God," Anna breathed. He heard her moving about but she did not try to come close again. Castiel was glad. He would rather die than hurt Anna but he did not know if he could control himself if she came close. The scent of fear in the air dropped away a little and he heard the rustle of fabric. "My prince...my prince..." Castiel wanted to answer her, truly he did. It was simply that the thought of doing so seemed removed somehow. His mind would not focus beyond the scent and feeling of holding this man; his mate. He whimpered but did not open his eyes. "Take your time, my prince. I will make a fire and then I will wait outside."

Mate...Alpha...Mine...Only mine...Only ever mine...Mate...Alpha...Want you...Want only you, forever...Mine...Alpha...Mate...Mine...Need you...Want you...Want you...Need you...

Fire? Yes, a fire. A fire would help his mate. A fire would make his mate awaken. Yes, a fire would be good.

Chapter Text

Dean swam back to semi-consciousness. He was home but it smelled far better than he remembered. His bed was not as soft but it did not matter. He was never going to leave here. This was where he belonged and where he was always going to stay from now on. He burrowed deeper into his bed and sighed contentedly. How had he never noticed just how good 'home' could smell before now? He squirmed where he lay wanting to get closer to...something. 'Home' smelled better than good. It smelled like cinnamon and dawn and spring and the air before thunderstorms. 'Home' smelled so good, in fact, that his cock was stiffening.

Dean's eyes snapped open as he came to the realisation that his hips were moving of their own volition. He had apparently decided to rub himself against his bed, which was something he had not done since he was much younger or in rut...except that he was not in his bed.

He sat up quickly and then reeled as the room whirled around him. He tried to force his eyes to focus but it was not a simple task. He blinked several times, trying to stop the room from moving. Dean shook his head carefully and peered around. It was not a room. His eyes flicked in each direction and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The walls were rock. He was in a cave. Wooden planks had been propped up against, what he could only assume was, the entrance. Weak light was trickling in through the gaps. There was a small fire set within a ring of stones a few feet away but it was little more than embers. He was lying on furs. No, not furs. He was lying on cloaks, the soft, fur insides of cloaks. There were more of them too, draped over him.

Dean took a deep breath and tried to think but it was a mistake. The scent that he had noticed, even in his sleep, filled his lungs and an embarrassing noise came out of his throat. Well, he would have been embarrassed had there been anyone to hear him. Instead he turned his head from side to side and began to inhale deeply again and again.

It did not take him long to trace the scent to it's source. It was coming from one of the cloaks beneath him, the one his head had been resting on. Dean wanted to lean forwards and bury his face in it but he fought to resist. It was an amazing scent, true but it was not particularly strong. He wondered where the source of that delicious smell was now and what it would be like to smell it and how difficult it would be to find it if he set off from...wherever he was.

Dean shook himself again, trying to ignore the way it seemed to make the rock walls shake around him. Where, exactly, was he? The last thing he remembered was burying his face in Jo's neck after...after he had ended Uriel, the giant-man.

What had happened to him? How had he ended up in this cave? If the sounds from outside were anything to judge by, it was a cave next to the sea. The battle had taken place miles from the sea. He looked around the cave again. None of his weapons seemed to have made it here with him and that concerned him a great deal. How was he going to find that scent without his weapons?

Dean shook his head for a third time. Home. How was he going to get home? That was what he had meant to think. Dean hissed, annoyed with himself. He needed to try and think clearly, he needed to figure out what had happened to him.

Footsteps outside caused every muscle in Dean's body to tense. He looked around the cave again and found nothing that might pass for a weapon. Except...

Dean leant forward and grasped the biggest log he could see from the small pile next to the fire. The weight felt good in his hands. Perhaps if his captors were expecting him to still be asleep he might be able to take them by surprise. Perhaps he might be able to get away and find that delicious...find a way home.

A few of the planks were pulled aside and a figure struggled through the gap. Dean took a breath. Beta. Female. Not the scent from the cloak. He raised the log in his hands. Loathed as he was to hit a woman, he would do it if it was necessary. He would not have to kill her, surely. If he could just render his captor unconscious he would be able to get away. He was raising the log to strike when the woman caught sight of him and let out a shriek, "No! No, please! Do not hurt me! I..." She tried to retreat back out of the gap and Dean paused. This Beta hardly seemed to pose a threat but something about her words bothered him.

Dean was trying to decide what it was when an entirely different voice cut in from behind her. This was a man's voice. "Anna, what is wrong?"

The second voice took Dean completely by surprise and that annoyed him. He was not used to people sneaking up on him and he found he did not care for it at all. However, the voice itself was low and gravelly and it seemed to do something strange to his belly; something pleasant. "Who is that?" Dean demanded.

Whoever it was had no way of getting inside as long as this Beta, Anna the other voice had called her, stayed where she was. "It's my...it's my..." Anna seemed to have been rendered almost catatonic with fear and Dean realised he was still holding the log aloft in one hand. Feeling embarrassed and a little ashamed of himself, Dean lowered it slowly, trying not to alarm the poor woman any more.

"Anna, let me in." The voice spoke from outside again and this time, Dean felt his whole body shiver. He did not know why he was reacting so strongly to just the sound of a man's voice, but he knew he wanted to see whoever that voice belonged to.

Anna, however, was looking at him as though she expected Dean to run at her and attack. She pressed herself against the gap in the planks, refusing to let the man outside, in. "No, please my...Lord. The Alpha is wild he..."

"I am not wild," Dean cut in, scowling at her. He was not. He was not wild. At least, Dean did not think he was. "You startled me, is all," he said, by way of explanation.

Anna let out a scoff and glared at the log, still in his hand, pointedly, "I startled you?"

Dean could accept her point there, however reluctantly. "Perhaps we startled each other," he conceded.

"Anna! Let. Me. In. Now." The voice from outside had moved beyond requesting entrance now, to demanding it.

Anna still hesitated but Dean could see that she was torn. Whoever it was clearly had influence with her. Perhaps he was her Alpha? She had called him 'my lord', but he could still be her Alpha anyway. Dean found that he did not care for that idea at all. The voice was...appealing somehow. He decided not to look at that too closely, focusing on the moment at hand. "Who is that?" He asked again.

"It's..." Anna froze when a hand appeared through the gap and pushed gently, but firmly, at her shoulder. She looked resigned and stepped to the side. A bowed head appeared as the man entered the cave, squeezing through the gap in the planks. Dean watched curiously as the man raised his head revealing the most piercing blue eyes, obvious even in the dim light of the cave, that Dean had ever seen. He found it hard to look away from the man. Dean's heart was fluttering in his chest. There was something...something in the lines of his face or perhaps it was in the colour of his hair. Maybe it was the shape of his nose or it could have been...

A sea breeze stirred the man's hair and it ruffled gently, blowing into the cave. The scent that came with it hit Dean in the face like a fist. He actually staggered backwards as he tried to regain his balance. His mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at the man in front of him.

Once when he was a child, not long after John had finally come out of his deep depression, Dean had asked him about his mother and how they had met. John had gotten a strange look on his face as he described their first meeting but the details of where and when, John had waved off as unimportant. It was the expression on his father's face that Dean remembered. The way he had seemed to drift away to somewhere he was happy. Despite how much John loved his sons, Dean had never seen him look that happy since his mother's death except when he thought of her.

Dean had never really understood what his father had felt then, although he had tried. Now, he thought that perhaps he finally did. This man, the Omega and Dean knew that was what he was, smelled like everything good. It was so much better than what he had gleaned from the cloak he had awoken on. Dean felt his knees tremble. He seemed to be losing the capacity to think clearly. He just stared at the man in front of him and the man stared back. His blue eyes were turning blacker by the second.

Dean's hands clenched themselves into fists at his side and he tried to make them relax. He reconsidered a moment later when he realised he had taken a step forward without intending to do so. He wanted to. He wanted to leap forward and get hold of the man and never let him get away again. He was Dean's. He belonged to Dean. "Omega." The word just slipped out of his mouth, again, completely without his permission. Dean was not even sure when he had realised the man was an Omega. He just knew it was true. He did not know if it was a declaration or a plea but either way, the man answered.

"Alpha." That word, in the man's voice made Dean shiver all over though he had never had that reaction before.

"No, please you must not..."

The Beta woman was speaking but Dean hardly noticed and certainly did not care. He took another step forward and held out a hand. "Come?" This time it was definitely a question and a plea. Dean did not know what he would do if the man refused him.

The man reached out and Dean almost sighed with relief. "Yes, of course, Alpha." The Omega stepped closer until there was only a few inches between them. Dean took both of the man's hands in his own and took a deep breath. The scent seemed to flow through him. It was not enough. He would never have enough of it. It took him a long moment to realise the Omega was doing the same thing.

Dean rubbed his fingers over the man's palms, they were warm and soft. Dean's skin felt tight; as though it was far too small to contain whatever it was that he was feeling. For the first time Dean realised that he was only wearing his linen trousers and that his cock would be visible and obviously hard. He had not really given it much thought. It was incidental, unimportant. Of course he was hard for his Omega. Why would he not be? His breathing was coming out hard and fast, he was almost panting. "Who are you?" Dean asked quietly, not that it mattered to him. Still, he would like to know.

The man hesitated and bit his lip, tilting his head to the side. It was the most adorable thing Dean had ever seen. He wanted to watched the man do that forever. Dean wanted to bite that lip next time. Another pulse of heat went through his cock but Dean ignored it. "My name is Michael. I serve the King's son."

The words and the context seemed to mix together and make a type of sense. Michael. It was not what Dean had expected but it did not matter. If the man had no name at all Dean would not have cared. They could have chosen him one together. They also clarified his sense of curiousity when the woman had first spoken. "You are Irish," Dean said. He was surprised to note that he was simply stating a fact. It made no difference to...anything.

The man, Michael, smiled and raised an eyebrow, "You are not." Dean smiled too, his Omega was quick and sharp and just a little brazen. Dean was not truly surprised. His True Mate would certainly be all of this things.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, Dean knew he should be doing something other than staring at Michael raptly. He should be trying to figure out what to do about the fact that he had accepted that Michael was his True Mate so easily, that he had found his True Mate, that he even had a True Mate. Most people simply never found them. They found someone they grew to love and care for, sometimes very deeply, but that did not mean they became True Mates after the fact. No, this was rare and it had happened to him, him and his Omega.

Dean tugged gently on Michael's hands as he sat down on the fur cloaks again. It was awkward without the use of his arms but he would not let go for anything. He crossed his legs together in front his body so that his Omega could stay close. Michael sat down in front of him as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. "You are mine," Dean said. His brain did not seem to be in control of his words at the moment and he spoke them before he thought it through.

His Omega did not seem to mind. He nodded his beautiful head and smiled again, a breathtaking smile, as though Dean's words pleased him more than he could say. "I believe that is so."

A surge of happiness swept through Dean to hear his Omega accept him so readily. Michael had felt the same way, Dean realised. That was why he had smiled the way he had. A low rumble came from Dean's chest. It sounded almost like a purr, though Dean could not ever recall having made that sound before.

Michael tilted his head to the side again and twisted his wrist, trying to free one of his hand from Dean's grasp. Dean did not want to let go but if his Omega wanted him to, he would of course. He fought down the urge to whimper, Dean of Winchester did not whimper.

He waited to see if Michael intended to pull away but instead, the Omega reached forwards towards Dean's arm. Then he hesitated, looking unsure, "May I?"

Dean did not understand what his Omega was asking at first but when he did he almost laughed aloud. His Omega did not need permission to touch him. Dean would happily lie stock still for days, forever, and let Michael do as he wished. "Of course," he breathed.

At the first touch of his Omega's fingers, Dean started to purr again, he could not seem to help it. Michael's fingers were only skimming along Dean's forearm and yet it seemed more intimate a touch than any he had ever shared with a lover. His body tensed slightly and relaxed and then it did it again. His cock gave an angry throb between his legs and for the first time, Dean found it hard to ignore the blood pulsing there. He was aching.

Michael had obviously noticed it and he did not seem to mind. In fact, the blue in his eyes had almost disappeared behind the black. Michael swallowed hard and let his eyes drift downwards, very deliberately. Dean watched as his Omega's tongue darted out to lick his lips. Dean tried to take a calming breath but instead, he became aware of a scent that made his mouth go dry. It was a part of his Omega and it had always been there, Dean realised, but now it growing stronger by the second. He could not understand how he had not noticed it before, or rather, realised what it meant.

His only excuse was that he had never before come into contact with a male Omega, let alone one who was aroused and producing slick. He had once bedded a female Omega but she had smelled different. Dean could not remember her name at that moment though he was sure he had never had trouble previously. This was different and so, so much better. Dean's empty hand began to clench into a fist again. He wanted to reach out and haul his Omega to him. He needed to feel the weight of his body. He needed to hold him. He needed to take off all of the Omega's garments and bury his face between his mate's legs. He wanted that scent.

Michael was still touching him. Even as Dean fought to focus, his Omega leant forwards so that he could run his hand up to Dean's shoulder. Dean could not keep in his gasp. He was hanging onto his self-control barely. His neglected cock had become truly painful now. It was throbbing angrily. Every time Dean took a breath and smelled that delicious scent of slick his situation grew worse.

It had been easy to ignore it before he realised how aroused his Omega was. Now, Dean did not know why he was fighting it. "What is your name?"

Dean blinked and tried to ground himself in the moment. It was very rude not to introduce himself but it had simply slipped his mind. "Dean," he replied.

"Dean...Dean," MIchael said his name as though tasting it. "I like that."

Dean tried to ignore the thrill that went through him at the Omega's smile. "Michael is..." He started to return the compliment even though the name did not really seem to suit the man in front of him. Michael cut him off.

"I think I would prefer you to call me, Omega," he said mildly. "Unless you object."

Dean frowned a little, "Why?

His Omega shrugged slightly and let his fingers trail slow circles on Dean's shoulder, "Because no one else calls me that."

Dean swallowed thickly. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. His hands were itching. The small patch of skin on his shoulder was tingling beneath gentle fingers. When Michael tilted his head to the side again, Dean lost his silent battle and leant forwards. He freed his other hand and suddenly, he was holding his Omega's face gently. "Omega..."

Michael's breath hitched and his fingers gripped Dean's shoulder.

"Please, please, stop."

Dean's attention was not pulled away from his Omega but the sound of Anna's voice still grated slightly against the otherwise perfect moment. "Send her away, Omega. Please."

Michael had leant his face into Dean's touch. The smell of slick was filling the cave. Dean was aware of almost nothing else. Just that scent; just his Omega. "Anna, go," Michael said quietly.

"My lord, you must..."

"I said, go." Michael did not raise his voice, but there was still finality in it.

There was movement somewhere to Dean's right hand side but he ignored it. The woman was leaving and that was good. Dean let himself lean forwards further and pressed their foreheads together. Michael let out a whimper, "Alpha, please..."

"What do you want, Omega?"

"I...I...don't know...I just need you to..." Dean's eyes had drifted closed at the scent of his Omega so close but he could hear movement. Michael was squirming in place. Both of the other man's hands were gripping Dean's shoulders now; trying to pull him closer. "I want...want you..."

Dean lost whatever shred of control he had been holding onto. No one could have expected him to resist; not when his Omega asked so beautifully. A grumble came from deep in his chest and he moved his hands down to Michael's waist, hauling his Omega closer.

Michael scrambled to move where Dean was pulling him. Dean stretched his legs out in front of him so he could settle his Omega on his lap. Michael parted his legs and followed where Dean led, pressing himself as close as he could. As soon as he was settled, he buried his face in Dean's neck and began to breathe deeply.

The sound Dean made was somewhere between a groan and a growl and it just kept going. He could not stop it. The feeling was just too good. The way his Omega fit against him was beyond perfect. He could not seem to stop touching. Every time his hands settled somewhere he would feel the need to move to another spot. His thumbs traced the sharp protrusion of hips bones, his palms skimmed over the ridges of a spine, his fingertips reached up to tangle themselves in short hair.

"Alpha..." Michael begged.

"Whatever you want. I will do anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"I want you to bed me, now."

XXX

Castiel had never said anything so brazen in his life. Even during his heats, he had never craved a specific touch. Of course, he had wanted in a vague sense. He had wanted to feel an Alpha hold him down and knot him but the Alpha had never had a definite shape, not even in his mind. Now everything was crystalising around him and he understood. He had never wanted anything specific because he had not yet met Dean. Dean was what he wanted. Dean was all he wanted and he knew he would never want anything else.

His Alpha growled and gripped Castiel so fiercely it made his heart flutter. To be wanted by such a man... To be desired and craved this way was a heady thing in and of itself. Rough hands found their way inside of his tunic and Castiel trembled at the sensation of Dean's touch on his bare skin, his back, his hips. This was what he wanted. "Yes..." He whimpered. "Touch me, please. Please, please, please..." It was not enough. He did not see what would be.

Dean was running his hands up to Castiel's shoulders and back again. He rolled his hips up and Castiel gasped at the sensation. There was so much he wanted his head was swimming with it. He wanted that cock inside of his wet hole. He wanted Dean to lay on top of him and fuck down until this ache went away. He wanted to stay astride his Alpha and ride until neither could do anything but fall asleep. He wanted his Alpha. He wanted lips and tongue and teeth and hands and cock. He wanted it all. Dean was mumbling against his neck, "Omega...my sweet Omega...I want to bed you....Want to taste you...Want to be inside of you..."

Castiel clutched at Dean's shoulders again, sliding his hands as far down his Alpha's back as he could. The bare skin was making his hands burn in the most delicious way. He pressed his hips forward against his Alpha. He needed to relieve some of the pressure. The need was stopping him from thinking. He did not care, except that it made it impossible for him to decide what to do next. "Yes...Yes...Please...I beg you..."

Dean's fingers slid back into Castiel's hair and he tugged gently. Castiel pulled back enough to be able to look Dean in the eyes. "Do not beg," Dean said firmly; as firmly as he could when the words came out on a pant. "You can have anything...Anything that is mine to give...Sweet Omega..."

Castiel gasped. His hips were moving without his permission but his eyes drifted down to Dean's lips. He wanted to know what they tasted like. Dean understood and he loosened his grip on Castiel's hair. "Yes...want to taste you...yes," He pressed gently on the back of Castiel's neck and before he could take a breath their lips were meeting.

Castiel couldn't keep in the moan that seeped out of him. Dean's lips were soft and warm and sweet and everything Castiel had never known he wanted; needed. He had never been kissed beyond those kisses given in greeting and this was nothing like that. He wished he knew better what to do but he was also glad he did not. He liked knowing his True Mate was the only one who had touched him this way. He liked knowing his Alpha was the first to know what his mouth tasted like. When Dean's tongue brushed against Castiel's lower lip, Castiel opened for him. He might not have done this himself, but he had read many books.

His hips were moving more urgently with every coax of Dean's tongue in his mouth. He could not help but imagine what it would be like to feel Dean's tongue on other parts of him; on every part. The next time Dean's tongue stroked, Castiel met it with his own and that rumbling growl filled the cave again. Castiel felt more slick pour from his hole. He was throbbing, aching with the need to filled by his Alpha. This was what his body was made for, what he was made for.

Dean's hands were roaming over his skin but it still was not enough. "Alpha...Need you inside...It hurts, Alpha..."

Dean groaned and his hands dipped down into Castiel's leggings. He had to break the kiss to gasp when Dean's fingers slid between his cheeks. His hole fluttered at the touch. Dean was gentle but he did not pause. There was no resistance as the tip of a long finger breached him. Finally. It felt so good that Castiel gave a low cry. Dean grunted against his mouth. The other hand in Castiel's hair forced their mouths back together. They were both breathing too hard to truly kiss. They were just sharing air but Castiel would not pull away for anything. "So hot...tight...Feel so good...so tight..." Dean slid a second finger inside of him and Castiel tensed for less than a second. Dean stilled his movements immediately.

"No, no please..." Dean has asked him not to beg but he could not stop himself.

"Did I hurt you?" Dean asked, breathlessly.

Castiel was shaking his head before Dean had finished speaking. He pressed his hips backwards and then forwards again seeking friction; any friction. "Never...never felt that..." He could feel himself blushing as he tried to find the words to admit to his inexperience.

He did not know why he felt like he had to explain, Dean understood him before he had to say anymore. He met green eyes peering at him in confusion. Castiel just nodded and a feral growl filled the air; deeper than anything else so far. The fingers inside of his hole moved again. "Mine," Dean growled. "My Omega..."

"Yes, Alpha...Only you...No one else...Only yours..." Castiel gasped, because of course he was Dean's. Dean moved so quickly it stole Castiel's breath. He found himself empty, lying on his back with Dean was tugging at his clothes. Castiel raised his arms to let Dean pull the tunic over his head. Dean threw the fabric away as though it had personally offended him. Then his fingers were fumbling with the laces of Castiel's leggings. Dean was not wearing his tunic, but his own leggings were certainly going to be in the way.

When Castiel's hand brushed against a hard length, barely concealed by the linen, Dean groaned and his hands faltered. Another rush of power went through him. This was his Alpha, his strong Alpha, quivering at the simple brush of Castiel's hand. He got the ties undone and slipped his hand inside. He wanted to feel, to make Dean feel as good as he felt. His wrapped his fingers around Dean's length and squeezed gently, feeling wetness at the head. His Alpha let out a choked sound and when Castiel tugged he felt Dean's cock throb. "Mine," he growled. He had not intended to say so, but it felt good anyway. He belonged to his Alpha but his Alpha belonged to him too.

"God, yes...never been so hard..."

"Yessss...put it inside me...make it better..."

Dean pulled at his leggings again and this time Castiel heard the fabric tear. He let go of Dean's cock and kicked his legs to help Dean get the clothing off his body and then there was only warm skin and Alpha all over him. Castiel loved it. He wanted to forget everything but the scent and feel of his Alpha. Dean grasped one of his legs and hitched it up into a bent position, giving him easier access. Castiel felt his back arch as the fingers slid inside of him again. "So wet...so wet for me..." Dean was breathing hard, pressing kisses to Castiel's forehead. He could not speak. He managed to whimper and bit down hard on his lip. "Cry out...tell me how it feels..."

Castiel wanted to tell Dean that he could not, he could barely breath let alone speak. Instead a flood poured out of him. "It feels so good...want you so badly...want you to slip inside again and again and...ohhhhhhh...."

Dean had been stroking inside of him with the tips of his fingers and he had touched something that made Castiel's eyes roll back into his head. "Where, Omega? Tell me."

"I...I just...it was..." Dean found it again and Castiel threw back his head with a wail of pleasure.

"There? Just there?"

Castiel nodded frantically and Dean slipped a third finger inside of his hole. He felt stretched and hot and oh, so very very good. Dean focused his attention on that mysterious spot now, rubbing over it again and again. Castiel could feel his cock twitching next to Dean's where it was pressed between them. "Want you inside...all of you, now..."

"Soon, I swear it..."

Castiel was trembling beneath Dean. He had never felt anything like this. During his heats, he pulled and tugged at his cock for relief but he never slid fingers inside of himself. Good Omegas did not do such things. He could not believe the pleasure he had denied himself but then, it would not feel as good as it did with Dean. He knew it. "Please...I need..."

"I know..." Dean, it seemed, did know. He began to shift his body, rubbing against Castiel's cock slowly. Their combined wetness made the slide easy.

"Faster, please."

"No. Like this. Next time I will take you any way you like..." Dean kissed him, licking into Castiel's mouth, swallowing his cries. "This time, I want you this way."

"Alpha, please...I..." Castiel was climbing, it would not take much more. He was thrusting his hips up against Dean as his Alpha rubbed that spot inside of him again and again and again.

"Such a good Omega," Dean crooned in his ear. "So sweet, so wet for me. I will take such good care of you. Touch you like this whenever you want. Rub this..." Dean pressed down inside of Castiel a little harder, "With my cock until you fall apart around me. Let you feel me fill you...fill my Omega...You are mine. You belong to me."

"Yes, yes, Alpha...I..." Castiel cried out and clung to Dean and lights flashed behind his eyelids. His whole body spasmed as his cock twitched and sputtered out his release between them. It lasted for long seconds as Dean kept touching him, kept sliding against his sensitive cock.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he felt Dean withdraw his fingers but he whined at the loss, trying to force his eyes to open. He tried to keep Dean against his body but the Alpha was shifting against him, settling himself between Castiel's legs. "Shh, I'm here."

"Alpha..." There did not seem to be any other words. Castiel felt Dean move his hips until something blunt and hard and silky pressed against his hole.

"Tell me you want me to..."

"Yes...yes...please...I want you to...Want my Alpha..."

Dean let out that strange grumbling growl again and moved forward, pressing inside slowly. Castiel felt his body stretch to let his Alpha in until Dean's hips came to rest against him. His cock twitched valiantly as it fought to rise again. Castiel knew it would not take much. "Oh, God. God...so good...nothing better..." Dean was moaning into his ear again, but this time his voice shook with repressed desire.

Dean held himself still inside of Castiel and it felt as though their bodies were memorising the shape of each other; moulding to fit around and inside so nothing else would ever feel as good as this did. Long seconds passed as Castiel felt his cock hardening between them all over again. He wanted to feel it again, he wanted Dean to make him feel it. "Alpha..."

XXX

Dean fought to control his thrusts. He had heard stories, of course. How when True Mates found each other they disappeared into a fog of lust and want and need. They could go insane with it for days, losing themselves in the feel and scent of the other.

He could do that and a part of him wanted to but a bigger part held back. He wanted to remember this as clearly as possible. He wanted to remember how it felt to ease himself into the tight, slight channel of his Omega, his mate for the first time. It was his Omega's first time and in a way it was his too. Dean had never lain with a man before. It was not that he was strictly opposed to it, he had just never had the occasion. The only man he had considered attractive enough, a stable hand named Benjamin, was not interested in men.

Dean was glad of that now. His moved as slowly as he could and fought the urge to spill himself too soon. It was so good, too good. When his Omega pressed both hands to the side of Dean's face and brought their mouths back together, Dean moaned into the kiss. He broke it before wanted to but he wanted to look at his mate more. With bright eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his Omega was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

When the flush deepened, Dean realised he had spoken aloud. His Omega gasped and his back arched, "No...not as...beautiful as you..." Dean did not understand how he had gotten so fortunate. His mate. His True Mate. He shifted his hips, trying to angle his cock up as much as his could. He would not fall, not yet, not until... His Omega's hands flew to his shoulders and then clutched desperately at his back. "Ohhhh...there...please, more..."

"Not going to stop," Dean promised. "Never..." Sweat was pouring down his back but he was not going to slow, not until they. Were. Both. Done.

"Dean...god...I think..."

"Just like that...like that..." Dean was moving faster now. He could not stop himself. He had to keep going. He needed to lose himself inside his Omega. He was so close to losing himself completely but his movements stuttered slightly when he felt a tug on his cock that had not been there before.

Dean was confused but it only lasted a second. "Your knot?" His Omega panted.

Dean could only nod. His knot never swelled out of rut. It just did not happen. His body warred with itself. He wanted to keep going. It felt as though he might die if he stopped but he still hesitated. He looked at his Omega, "I...it's never happened when I...I do not..."

Lips pressed against his for the briefest of seconds, "I want it...Alpha, Dean, put it inside of me...It's mine..."

Dean groaned. He did not think he would ever grow tired of hearing his Omega lay claim to him like that, every part of him. His knot swelled further. On the other hand, "I do not want to hurt you..."

His Omega keened and raised his knees on either side of Dean's hips. "Mine," he whimpered, clearly close to his fall. "Please...I want it...I want..."

Dean could not deny him anything. He had promised, after all. "Yes...yours." Dean pressed forward again, increasing the pressure until he felt his knot breach the Omega and slip inside. The pressure around his swollen knot almost crossed his eyes.

XXX

Castiel cried out loudly. He could not hold it in. The feeling was beyond anything he could have imagined. "Alpha...yes, there..." The knot was pressing against him inside. His knees gripped Dean's hips and he felt his channel fluttering around his Alpha.

"Omega...my God..." Dean was moving again, but now it was more like a frantic grind.

Castiel did not know if he could bear it, it was too much, too good. He was gasping and calling for his Alpha with every movement. He wanted more. He wanted harder. He wanted faster. But at the same time this was the most delicious torture he had ever experienced and he never wanted it to end.

When Dean reached between them and wrapped his long fingers around Castiel's cock, tugging gently, he lost all control. His body bucked frantically up into Dean's hand, his hole clenching desperately around the knot. Too much. Too good. Too much. And Castiel came apart all over again. Every muscle in his body seized with the pleasure of it. He thought he might have screamed but his ears did not seem to be working. He felt Dean press his face into Castiel's neck. The thick cock inside of him throbbed angrily and Dean was trembling in his arms.

He could feel his cock spurting long ribbons in Dean's hand. It seemed to go on forever but he never wanted it to stop. When his body finally started to feel like his again he noticed that purring noise was back. Castiel reached up and stroked his fingers through Dean's hair.

Dean released his grip on Castiel's cock but he did not take his nose from Castiel's neck. Instead he groaned and breathed deeply. "I will never have enough of you," Dean said as though confessing to a secret.

Castiel wanted to cry but he did not know why. Instead he reached up and stroked his fingers through Dean's hair. "Good."

Dean finally raised his head. There was a sleepy smile on his face as he leant forwards and pressed another kiss to Castiel's lips. Their tongues met in a slow dance that Castiel relished as much as everything else they had done. He ran his hands slowly up and down Dean's back, trailing his finger tips over the skin there.

Dean shivered and Castiel felt the cock inside of him twitch again. Another flood of wetness filled him and Dean groaned. "I...I think that this may take a while..."

Castiel chuckled, "Allright." He was perfectly content to stay where he was, but Dean was muttering something about his weight on Castiel. "It does not matter. I like it, actually." He did, too.

Dean breathed deeply into Castiel's neck again but he was moving. Strong hands wrapped around Castiel's hips, anchoring them together. "Not hurting you..." Dean muttered.

"I know." He did. He could not have said why he believed it so completely, but he did. His Alpha would rather cut off his own cock than hurt him.

Castiel let Dean roll them over slowly. His Alpha kept one of Castiel's legs hitched around his waist as he settled back onto the fur of the cloaks. Castiel sighed contentedly. This was actually very comfortable. He could easily breath in Dean's scent and the feel of the knot inside him was...comforting. He did not want Dean to pull out. Castiel felt comfortably full. He sighed happily and nuzzled his Alpha's chest. He could feel sleep pulling at him.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Hmm...of course," Castiel forced his eyes to open but he did not raise his head. He was listening to his Alpha's heart beating.

"How did I get here?" Castiel found himself laughing suddenly and Dean's hands flew down to grip his hips. Another climax was being pulled from the Alpha. "Your body just...when you laughed..."

Castiel had to fight not to laugh again. "Apologies, twice over. I should be more careful and I should have explained."

Dean released his hips and moved to rubbing large hands over his arms instead. "You do not have to apol0gise for either, believe me. It feels amazing and I did not exactly take the time to ask you questions."

"I found you on the beach four days ago. There was a boat filled with wood with pitch on the sides. I think..." Castiel had begun his explanation without thinking it through. Surely, Dean would be very upset to know his family and friends thought he was dead? Castiel raised his head so he could look his Alpha in the eyes. "I think it was supposed to be your funeral boat but the fire did not take. You had been poisoned and it almost stopped your heart, but I do not know how. Fortunately, the remedy worked anyway." Castiel felt him stomach swoop unpleasantly at the thought that it might have failed. It had not actually occurred to him that Dean might die, not once he had scented him anyway. That half-drowned man had changed from someone he wanted to save into someone he had to save. There had been no possibility of anything else.

"Poisoned?" Dean looked genuinely perplexed.

"Yes."

"And...you healed me?"

Castiel blushed at the look Dean gave him, as though he was somehow miraculous. "I...I have some knowledge of medicines."

"Thank you, Omega."

"You are more than welcome."

Dean leant down to brush their lips together again. Castiel sighed happily into the kiss. It dragged on for long seconds until Castiel had to break it to yawn. "Tired?"

Castiel nodded, "I have not...I wanted to keep watch over you, so..."

Dean's arms tightened around him and suddenly there were lips on his temple, his forehead, "You have taken care of me, now let me take care of you. Sleep."

Castiel nodded happily and rested his head back on his Alpha's chest. The steady thud of the heart beneath his ear was the most soothing sound he had ever heard.

Sleep was pulling him under. Castiel knew there were things he should be considering but his head felt as though it was filled with cloth. Whatever it was, it could not be important if it drifted so out of focus.
XXX

Chapter Text

Dean stirred back to to wakefulness and blinked. For a whole second he was not sure where he was. Then he took a deep breath and felt as though lightning had stuck him. His eyes flew to the dark head still resting on his chest. At some point while they slept his knot had gone down and he had slipped free of his Omega. The other man had not moved away though, he was still draped over Dean and Dean loved it. He had one arm around his Omega's back but now he wrapped the other arm around the warm body and sighed contentedly.

His mind was starting to function again now. He wondered if it was because he had slaked some of his lust recently or if it was something to do with waking with his True Mate in his arms. Perhaps it was a combination of the two.

Dean did not think they had been asleep for very long. It was full dark outside now but there were still embers burning in the fire ring. He was pleased about that. Though a part of him wished his Omega would wake up so he could start kissing and touching the other man again, the other part knew he should probably try to think clearly for a few minutes.

He was not so unaware that he did not realise how little control he had been able to maintain earlier. The second he had laid eyes on his Omega, every shred of logic seemed to have vanished. Things had seemed simpler somehow, lost in that wonderful sense of clarity.

This was his Omega. The man belonged to him and always would. He had found his True Mate and regardless of problems or complications they would be together. Dean would make sure they were together. He would tear down anything that got between them.

Unfortunately, since the waves of desire he had felt were sated, for now, he was unable to ignore the logical side of his brain. The side that strangely, sometimes seemed to speak in his father's voice. He needed to think but it was difficult to focus on any one thing for very long.

What did this mean? Dean barely knew Michael but was he ready to risk everything to have him? Dean considered that as objectively as he could and realised that yes, he was. It was not logical. It made no sense and yet Dean knew it was true. He could not walk away now. He could not have walked away from the first moment he inhaled the scent of his Omega off the cloaks. He would have searched for the source, he knew that.

But what of Michael? Would he be as willing as Dean to start planning some sort of life together? What if he was not?

Dean somehow doubted it would be an issue given the Omega's reaction to him but it was still a concern. It did not matter to Dean that Michael was Irish but he knew that his personal feelings were not the only factor.

Could Dean give up his home, his life and his family for his Omega? Dean felt pain lance through him at the thought. It would be beyond difficult and beyond painful to do so. Yet, when he considered living without Michael as an alternative the pain was worse.

Then again, even if Dean could do it; abandon his life in Briton, he was not foolish enough to assume he would be welcome. His family was a thorn in the side of the Irish King and he suspected he would be dead within minutes of his presence here being known. Especially once news reached Ireland of the recent retaliation after the attack on York; a retaliation he had led.

Uriel was a warrior of renown and Dean had killed him. He did not remember everything of the battle they had fought in the woods, some moments were distinctly hazy, but he would never forget the sight of Uriel falling to his sword. He had no doubt what his punishment for that would be.

Even if King Crowley could be persuaded to stay his hand, Dean knew it would not be without conditions. He suspected he would only be pardoned if he would switch his allegiance to Ireland and that was one thing that Dean simply could not do. He might be able, with great difficulty, to walk away from Briton for his Omega, but he could not fight against his own people. That would mean fighting against his father and brother. He could not, would not, do that.

Dean tightened his hold on Michael as his mind raced with it all; moving in the same circles again and again. He could not see a favorable outcome if he stayed in Ireland. His only option was to hope that his Omega would choose to come with him.

His heart seemed to jump unpleasantly at the thought of asking Michael to give up everything. Dean would much rather make the necessary sacrifices himself than ask his Omega to give up his home. He would do it if he could see a way for them to be together at the end of it but he simply did not.

For a moment, Dean allowed himself to hope. Perhaps Michael would come with him. There might be some prejudice from the townspeople and it might place his father in a difficult position; his son and champion forming an alliance with the enemy. On the other hand, Dean would not care what anyone thought if Michael was with him. They would win over everyone in time; together. Dean could not help but smile to himself a little, Sammy would love Michael. He imagined introducing the two of them. Somehow, he knew they would be great friends.

"You look happy."

Dean looked down to see bright blue eyes staring at him. The pink, full lips beneath them were curved in a small smile. "I was thinking..." Dean tried to answer him but just the sight of his Omega's tongue poking out to moisten his lips was enough to derail his trial of thoughts.

The lips smiled wider, "May I ask what you were thinking about?"

There was definitely hint of laughter in Michael's voice now and Dean forced himself to focus. He grinned at Michael, "I was thinking of my brother." It was at least partially true. He had been thinking about Sammy at the end there.

"His name?"

Dean found himself wondering if he would give up his brother's name so easily to any other Irishman and laughing inside at the very idea. With his Omega, he did not hesitate. Perhaps he should have but Michael's smile was just too beautiful. "Samuel, but I call him Sammy. I think he would like you."

His Omega blinked as though surprised but still pleased, Dean thought. "That is very good to hear. I always wanted a sibling."

"You have none?" Dean wanted to kick himself in the long second after asking the question. A trickle of sadness crept into the scent of his Omega. The man's eyes barely changed but Dean saw it anyway. His fingers dug slightly into the skin of Michael's back. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to..."

Michael pressed a finger gently to Dean's lips. "My mother died soon after giving birth to what I am told should have been a sister. It was many years ago."

Perhaps that was true, but Dean knew better than anyone how raw the scars left behind could be. Time did not always manage to diminish the sting enough. He pressed his lips to the finger briefly. "I'm sorry." Acting instinctively, he pulled his Omega further up his body. The man was not draped over him any longer, he was all but on top of Dean. Dean liked it. He pushed his nose into Michael's neck and breathed deeply, scenting the man and marking him with his own skin. He could feel Michael doing the same to him.

It was a while before Dean realised his cock was not hard. It did not seem odd to him until he actually considered it. The whole cave stank of their coupling and Dean was breathing in Michael's scent. He had assumed once his Omega woke he would be overtaken by another rush of lust. Dean could not remember ever lying in bed with a naked lover and not making a move to leave or bed them.

He knew he still wanted to bed the man again; it was not truly a question. Only, at this particular moment it did not seem so important. It was better for them to lie together like this, for now. He wanted to talk to Michael. He wanted to know things about him. It mattered.

For some reason the thought thrilled him and he had to chastise himself. Regardless of his personal epiphanies, his Omega had just confided something painful to him. It was not the right moment to be thrilled. "Far too many good women die on the birthing bed," he said finally.

"She did not..." Michael muttered sounding half-drugged. He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence and hesitated. The sadness in his scent felt like a spike inside of Dean. He was about to try and change the subject, somehow, when Michael looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled with un-shed tears. "She survived the birth but not the loss."

He understood immediately and Dean felt his heart twist in his chest. Losing his mother had been terrible but he could only imagine how it would have felt to have her choose to leave him. He tried to find some sympathy for the wretched woman but he could find none. She had left this beautiful Omega without a mother to love him on purpose. It seemed, to Dean, unforgivable. "We do not have to talk of this if you would prefer not to," he said. He reached up to stroke his fingers through Michael's hair.

Michael leaned into the touch with a sigh. "I have never spoken of her to anyone but Anna since the day of her funeral."

His eyes drifted closed but the tears did not fall. Dean wondered how many his Omega had shed for his mother over the years. "Then why are you telling me?"

"Because I wanted to."

Dean could not stop himself from kissing his Omega. The lips against his were soft and a low moan echoed round the cave. Dean did not know which of them made the sound. For the first time since they had begun their conversation, Dean felt his cock stir to life. He wanted to deepen the kiss. He wanted to pull his Omega just a few inches higher up his body and slip inside of him.

It took considerable effort to control his impulses but he fought to do so. He wanted to, God knew, he wanted to. Just not quite yet. Michael had shared something of himself with Dean and he did not think he would feel right until he did the same. He broke the kiss finally, breathing heavily.

"Thank you for telling me about your mother."

Michael blinked at him but smiled, "You are more than welcome. Are there any other painful memories we should share do you think?"

Dean found himself chuckling a little. His Omega had a very odd sense of humour but Dean liked it. "Well, I was going to tell you that I understand a little. I lost my mother when I was young too." "

I'm sorry." The humour disappeared from Michael's face immediately and he pressed himself closer to Dean. Dean accepted the comfort gladly. He held Michael closer. "May I ask you what happened?"

Dean realised that he had not considered how what he had to say might be taken by Michael. Would he consider Dean's parents traitor's? From the Irish' perspective he supposed they were all rebels and traitors. He tried to ask himself whether he should lie, feeling a sickening twist in his gut. He did not think he could do it.

Blue eyes blinked at him. They were so trusting. "She was killed by Irish soldiers at a gathering of Barons to discuss uniting against the Irish." He had not intended to put it so bluntly but he could not call the words back.

A frown marred Michael's face, "I hate all the bloodshed. I wish my father was more like my mother."

It was not the response Dean had been expecting, "I do not understand."

"My mother may not have been strong enough for this world but she was unfailingly kind." Michael said with a sigh. He propped his chin on a hand. "She is the source of the kindness you seemed to find so puzzling when you asked me about saving you. My father would have left you where you fell. Perhaps he would have stabbed you just to make sure you were dead."

Dean felt a sudden rush of sympathy for Michael that coincided with another rush of anger towards his unknown mother. He could not begin to imagine what his Omega's life must have been like if his father would kill a fallen man. "You must have been so lonely," he all but crooned, stroking Michael's hair again. "But what made you think of it?" Dean could not see what difference it would make to anything if Michael's father was kinder.

The Omega looked down at Dean's chest and flushed, "My father is a member of the court. He is not kind when they talk about Briton."

"Ah, I see." Dean had not really considered what situation Michael's family would hold within the court. However, if he was attached to the prince then his family must have connections with them. "Have you served the prince long?"

"I have been at court all my life."

"Even before you presented?" Dean had assumed Michael was there as a companion specifically because he was a male Omega. Everyone knew the King's son, Castiel was one too. Putting the two of them together was safe and Dean could understand the logic. Alphas and Betas could sometimes find it difficult to restrain themselves around Omegas.

"Yes," Michael muttered but he looked down again and Dean sensed he did not want to talk about it anymore. Dean's curiosity was piqued, but he did not want to force his Omega to tell him if he did not want to.

"So, you only have your father?" He asked.

Michael nodded but a small smile graced his lips, "I have Anna and she is a mother, sister and friend all pieced together."

"She is your maid?" Dean asked. Michael nodded. "I've never had a personal servant. Sammy had a wet nurse when he very young and the woman stayed until he was eight. You must be very important to the royal household."

Dean only intended to tease his Omega but he did not miss the way the other man paled. "I have been shown some favour."

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he said, not very convincingly. Michael sighed and bit his lip, hard. "In truth, I do not care for the life of the court. If I did not have Anna I fear I would have lost my mind years ago."

Dean hated himself a little for being so happy to hear that his Omega did not like the life he was leading. It made it more likely that he might possibly consider a change. Across the sea perhaps...

He wanted to raise the topic but in the end he chose not to. It just seemed so presumptuous to ask someone he did not truly know to run away with him. "Anna is important to you," he said instead. It was not a question, he could hear the truth of the words in his Omega's voice.

"She is."

Dean felt suddenly embarrassed. He would not be pleased if Michael had growled at Sammy for no reason, after all. "I apologise for alarming her."

"She has been alarmed since we first found you on the beach." Michael grinned, "We thought you were dead at first."

"Apparently, so did my own people, so I will not hold it against you."

"She helped me carry you here though. Then we pushed your funeral boat back out to sea."

Dean found he wanted to kiss his Omega again and this time he doubted he would stop. "Thank you, again."

"It was the right thing to do."

"Save your mate?"

"I did not know you were my mate until I had taken your..." Despite the fact that Michael was lying naked of top of Dean, the Omega still managed to blush. "Some of your clothes off."

"And you saved me anyway," he said, more to himself than Michael. Dean reached up and stroked him thumb across the pink lips in front of him. "I think I may have thought unfairly of the Irish."

Michael smiled, "Some Irish people are bad. But I suppose some of your own people are too?"

Dean thought of Lord Alistair, "Very true."

"Then perhaps you have simply not mixed with the best Irishmen," said Michael with a raised eyebrow. "You should be more selective about the company you keep."

Dean's eyes widened. His Omega was teasing him and Dean let out a low growl. Pleasure and happiness filled his chest. In the past, he had always preferred to bed Betas rather than Omegas. Omegas were usually very beautiful and they tended to smell better than others but they were also usually quite passive. It became tedious very quickly. Dean had not met many Omegas but it was something he had noticed.

There had been no doubts in his mind when he met Michael, but the discovery that his Omega was so different than the others he had met made him deliriously happy. He intended to encourage that spirit a lot. Dean slipped a hand into Michael's hair and tugged him down.

The other man melted against Dean's chest as their lips met; hands gripping his shoulders. He grasped Michael's hips and rolled them over until he was hovering over the other man. "

"Dean..."

"Omega..." Dean pressed his lips against the column of Micheal's throat. The insane urge to bite down filled him. There would be no point even if he did. A mating claim would not take with an Omega unless the Omega was in heat. Everyone knew that. It was just odd how little it mattered to Dean. He wanted to sink his sharp teeth into Michael's soft flesh. It would be obvious for a few days and certainly a deterrent to anyone else who saw a beautiful male Omega walking around.

Dean realised he was nibbling the skin between Michael's neck and his shoulder. The smell of slick was heavy in the air and when Dean pressed their hips together, he could feel it on his skin. "Alpha, please..."

Dean dragged his attention away from that small patch of Michael's skin and drifted down, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses as he went, "I would like to have you again, now."

"I would like that too." Michael's eyes were open but heavy. He was watching the path Dean's mouth was taking down his body.

"We must talk, I know," Dean said. Then he trailed his tongue down over the ridge of his Omega's hip.

"Yes, we must," Michael gasped. He did not sound entirely convinced.

Dean chuckled and slipped down a little further. Michael's cock was hard and leaking. Dean reached up to wrap his hand around the base. He looked up at his Omega to make sure he was watching and let his tongue run around the head of Michael's cock. The scent of fresh slick hit the air as Michael cried out. "But perhaps we could talk later?"

"Yes, please." Dean tugged gently and the man squirmed beneath him. His back arched and Dean took it as an invitation to close his mouth over his Omega's cock. He wanted so much from the man beneath him. He wanted to taste the slick pouring from Michael. He wanted to watch as his Omega took Dean's cock in his mouth. He wanted to haul Michael to his knees and push into him roughly. He wanted to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of his shoulder.

There was a clattering noise and a voice broke through the sound of Michael's moans. Dean's head snapped round to the doorway and saw a piece of wood being pulled back slowly. He knew who it was, he could already smell Anna now that he was not buried between Michael's legs. "My Lord? My Lord you must..." Despite his promises to control himself around Anna, she could not have arrived at a worst time. It took Dean less than a second to take in his Omega's aroused state. He was flushed and wet and panting and Dean would rather shred flesh with his teeth than let anyone else see Michael that way. He seized one of the cloaks and dragged it across Michael's body somehow positioning himself across his Omega in the same movement.

"Dean, it's just Anna, you do not need to..."

But Dean was already baring his teeth, a low growl coming from his chest. He did not care that he was naked, she could look at him all she liked, but Michael was his and he would not have it.

When Anna had managed to make a big enough space to poke her head into the cave she wrinkled her nose immediately. Her senses would not be as refined as his or Michael's but she would be able to smell what they had been doing anyway. Then her eyes landed on the two of them lying together on the floor, Dean crouched over Michael and growling at her...again. She flushed and, wisely, did not attempt to step inside the cave. "Oh, my...Apologies. I thought you would be...I mean, I did not think I would...I..."

Michael was pressing against Dean's shoulder. He seemed to be trying to move Dean off him so he could get to his feet. Dean did not like that idea at all. He wanted his Omega to stay exactly where he was and he wanted Anna to go away so they could resume their activities. His growl morphed into a grumble and he lay his weight more heavily across Michael's body. Michael actually chuckled as though it was funny. "Anna, everything is fine," he said, still pushing against Dean's shoulder. Dean could feel soothing circles being rubbed into his skin but he tried not to find it relaxing. He did not want to relax until the Beta went away.

"No, everything is not fine, sir." Anna insisted and Dean growled low again.

"Do not speak to him that way," he almost hissed. T

he hand on Dean's shoulder suddenly tightened it's grip and Dean tore his eyes away from Anna for long enough to look at his Omega, "Please, Dean. She is important to me, remember?"

Yes, Dean remembered. He was just finding it hard to care. He had a bad feeling about this woman. He did not want her here with them. On the other hand, he had already had to apologise for frightening her once and his Omega wanted him to be nice. He nodded and slowly took his weight off Michael. He looked up at Anna and kept quiet although he could not seem to stop frowning at her. "The King wishes to see you, immediately."

Dean was tempted to growl again but was shocked when Michael did not argue. He just nodded slowly. "Very well, I will be a few moments and then...

"Sir, you missed dinner," Anna interrupted him, rather rudely Dean thought. "I made your excuses but now the King demands your presence."

To Dean's horrified surprise, Michael began reaching for his clothes. "I did not realise it was so late."

Dean had known that he and Michael could not live in this cave forever. He had been considering what they would do when they left that very hour. However, it had been an abstract thought. Dean had not considered that Michael might choose to leave him before they had time to try and decide what they were to do. Anna was still talking somewhere close by but Dean found it hard to hear over the humming in his ears. "Please, sir. We should return..."

Michael had pulled on his leggings and was walking towards his tunic which Dean almost remembered tossing away. Time seemed to be slipping by him too quickly and Dean was on his feet before he thought it through. He heard a squeal of alarm that he ignored and sped to Michael's side. He reached out a hand and took hold of his Omega's arm. "Omega, I..." The words died in his throat and he looked down at the way he was holding onto Michael's arm.

He did not know what he intended to do. He felt a little sick at the thought that he could make his Omega stay here if he truly wanted it; and if he did not care that Michael would probably hate him for it. Still, when the alternative was watching Michael go somewhere Dean knew he could not follow, it was somewhat appealing.

Michael looked at the hand on his arm for long seconds. Dean began to be afraid that he had crossed some sort of boundary but no matter how he tried, he could not force his fingers to release their hold. However, when his Omega finally met his eyes, Dean did not see anger there. Rather, Michael seemed to be having his own internal struggle. When he spoke, he forced the words out from between clenched teeth. "I must go back now." Michael actually flinched when he finished the short sentence.

His Omega's tone rather than his words only served to stiffen Dean's resolve. He let go of Michael's arm and pulled him close instead. Michael went willingly and with a pleased sigh. Dean felt him immediately bury his nose in the side Dean's neck. "You must not leave....Please, we still have to...." His words trailed off when he felt soft lips against his skin. His cock began to stiffen immediately and his clutched his Omega tighter, tipping his head back to offer his bare throat. He had never offered submission to a lover but it felt so good to offer it now. Michael gave a low moan and dragged his blunt teeth over Dean's neck.

"My Lord..." Anna's shrill voice cut into the moment and this time Dean really considered chasing her until she left them alone.

To make matters worse, Michael tensed in his arms. "Dean, I have to go. Otherwise they will come looking for me." Michael's voice was ragged, he was trying to pull away and yet his hands were still clutching at Dean's back.

Dean did not loosen his own hold either. Michael wanted to stay here with him, Dean could feel it. He wanted Michael to stay here too. There was nothing so simple. "We can hide here. No one will find us..."

Michael shook his head and tried to step back again. His hands drifted as far as Dean's hips but then stopped. Dean felt finger tips biting into his skin but he liked it. He stepped forwards as Michael stepped backwards. They were getting closer to the cave entrance and Dean did not care for that. He wanted to drag Michael back to their furs but he was starting to panic at the thought that his Omega would not let him. Miichael was still shaking his head. "This cave was well known to the King's men several years ago. They do not check it regularly now but if they are mounting a search, they will. They will find you here."

"I do not care!" Dean yelled. He refused to look Michael in the eye. Instead he just wrapped his arms around his Omega and buried in face in the other man's hair. "You...you must not..." Dean could not finish the sentence as he did not know what he was supposed to say next. Instead a strange noise came out of his mouth. An odd growling whimper that he did not recognise. His breathing was heavy, he was almost panting with the internal pressure against his lungs.

He braced himself for something but he did not know what. Perhaps Michael would sart struggling in earnest. Dean would have to let him go if he did and the thought sent a stab of pain through his chest. Instead, Dean felt fingers scratch at the nape of his neck and he wanted to whimper again. Michael still wanted to touch him despite how he was behaving. Maybe he somehow understood what Dean was feeling? Whatever the reason, Dean felt his breathing ease a little. "Dean..."

"We have to...you have to..." Dean tried to explain but it was too difficult to force what he was feeling into simple words. He just needed his Omega with him; that was all. Dean felt as though he would lose something precious and irreplaceable the moment Michael left him; something he would not get back even when they met again. It took him a moment to understand and when he did, he was a little shocked at himself.

When Michael had first walked into the cave Dean had known he had a True Mate. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself inside the feelings that coursed through him. He was so happy. Now, Dean realised, did not want to know what it felt like to see his Omega walk away. He did not want to know what it felt like to be without the man know that he had found him. He wanted to go somewhere he could be with Michael. He would start now if that's what it took.

"Alpha," Michael said soothingly, still stroking his neck. "I will return as soon as I can. I swear it."

Dean tried to tell himself he was being irrational and illogical. Of course, one day he would have to be separated from Michael. Even if Dean got everything he wanted, he could not expect the man to be his living shadow all day, every day. The only problem was that Dean wanted exactly that. He tried to fight it but it was hard to hold himself back. "I want you to stay." It was too hard to physically let him go. Michael kept touching him gently; he did not even try to get away again.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him. If Michael was not going to insist on leaving then it would be alright. He breathed and a small smile crossed his face. Dean did not realise he was looking straight over Michael's shoulder at Anna until she moved. She had stepped inside the cave but had not come forward. She held up her hands and Dean managed not to growl. He had forgotten she was there.

"If they find him here with you, the way it smells," she said quietly. "They will kill you both."

Dean drew his lips back and bared his teeth. Michael tried to turn around to look at Anna but Dean held him fast. "I will protect him."

"Alpha, please," Anna begged. "You have been poisoned and now you are recovering. You can not keep him safe from the King's army. Not yet, at least."

"Try to listen to her, Dean. Please." Michael kept stroking him, but it was not as soothing as it had been. Anna's words were making sense and Dean resented it.

"I will protect him," Dean said again. He glared at Anna and her raised hands. Her obvious submission annoyed him. It made it hard for him to stay angry and that made it harder to ignore the truth. He knew how many men the King's army had. He was very familiar with it.

Anna started to cry right in front of him. Her narrow chest hitched with sobs and this time Michael struggled in earnest. Tears coursed down the woman's face and Dean knew he had to let go of his Omega. Michael hurried over to Anna and wrapped her in his arms. She all but collapsed against his bare chest.

Dean felt his hackles rise a little at the sight but the woman's submission made it too hard to truly feel it. Now she was the one peering at him over Michael's shoulder. "Please, I do not want to watch my lord die. Please. I will keep him safe and bring him back to you."

Dean could not seem to speak. He did not want to let Michael walk away, even now. It felt wrong. But he could not ignore the truth in what Anna said. He would happily fight for his life and if he fell...Well, as a warrior he had come to terms with the possibility long ago. But what would he do if Michael died? Dean shuddered at the thought. He steeled himself with difficulty, "Bring him soon." Michael released Anna and turned to smile at him sadly. He took a step back towards Dean but Dean held up a hand to halt him. "If you must go, you should not..."

Michael nodded and Dean knew he understood. He was not convinced he would be able to let go of Michael a second time. "I will come back as soon as I can. Believe me."

Dean nodded and tried to force himself to smile. He did not think he did a very good job of it. "I do."

Anna reached for Michael's hand, "Please, my Lord. We must leave now." She bent down and scooped up Michael's tunic and boots.

Dean could not stop himself from taking a step forward when she began to tug Michael outside after her but he managed to only take one. Michael kept his eyes on Dean's as he left. There was a small smile on his face but Dean knew it was forced. His Omega did not want to leave him either.

Perhaps it should have made him feel better but it did not.

XXX

Anna was practically dragging him down the beach. Castiel kept looking back over his shoulder. He wanted Dean to appear at the doorway but it was dark and he needed to peer closely to make out the outline. The moon was almost full so he could still see just enough.

The Alpha had only been out of his sight for a few seconds but Castiel already hated it. He had known he would experience something incredible when Dean awoke and they met; he had felt it. But he had not known just how changed it would make him feel.

Everything had shifted. Even Anna's familiar touch on his arm felt wrong somehow. Not that he minded the contact, but Dean should be the one still touching him. Castiel wanted him there, now.

He looked back over his shoulder but the cave mouth was already out of sight. His heart sank a little further in his chest. Anna was saying something but Castiel was not truly paying attention. He followed behind her obediently, trusting her to guide him to where he knew he needed to be.

They seemed to have been walking for a long time when Anna tugged him to a stop. He looked at her but her words were still hard to understand. "...must do it. Quickly, now."

"What?"

"Take your clothes off," said Anna and pointed to the water. "Leave them here and I will hide them. I have others." Anna held up a small bundle that Castiel had not even noticed up until now.

"What do you want me to do?" Castiel asked, still confused.

"Please, try to concentrate my prince," Anna pleaded. "Take of your clothes and bathe yourself. Do it carefully. You must wash away any trace of the Alpha before we return."

Castiel had to fight hard not to flinch. Anna was right. Of course she was. He could not return to the castle reeking of Alpha and sex and his own slick. On the other hand, he hated the idea of washing away the evidence of what he and Dean had done together. "I...I do not..."

Anna reached for the bottom of his tunic and tugged it up his body, "Please hurry. I do not know how much time we have. I told you father you complained of feeling unwell and decided to take a long walk. I said I had returned only to give him the message. He told me to fetch you." Castiel lifted his arms and let her pull his tunic off. He stepped out of his boots and leggings; operating on some vague instinct that told him Anna was only trying to help. "Hurry, my prince."

Castiel nodded and cleared his throat, "I will." He had only managed to half-turn when he felt Anna touch his arm. "You did not tell him your true name?"

Castiel gritted his teeth in annoyance. "You begged me not to."

Anna nodded but did not say anything else. Castiel was glad. He did not want to snap at her when she was trying so hard to help. Castiel turned away and ran into the almost freezing water before he could consider how uncomfortable it would be.

He was not wrong. The water felt like ice and he resolved to do this as quickly as possible. He waded out until the water was waist deep and began to rub at himself. He hated to wash the scent of Dean off of his body but Anna was right. There was no choice.

The first time he had had to do this, the day they found Dean, at least it had been a little warmer.  It seemed like it should have happened longer than three days ago.  Anna had cried that day too, when she had begged Castiel and he had kept on refusing her.

"Under no circunstances are you to tell him your name!"

Castiel hushed her immediately. He did not want her to wake the mysterious, half-drowned man who was now resting with his head in Castiel's lap. "He is my mate, Anna. I will have to tell him eventually." They were sat together in the cave. Anna had built a small fire as promised. Then she had hurried off to fetch the things they needed to care for the man. Castiel had refused to leave his side for an instant.

Now, the man had been treated and he was wrapped warmly in an assortment of cloaks Anna had ferried to the cave. Castiel smiled down at the face resting against his stomach. Several times the man had rubbed his cheek there and let out a low grumble than sounded suspiciously like purring. "

My prince, please try to see reason," Anna tried again. "

I see perfectly, thank you." "

Are you so certain of that?" "

Yes." "

Have you considered what will happen when this man is discovered? He will be discovered." "

I know it." There was no way he could hope to keep a man from Briton hidden indefinitely in a cave on the beach. Even in his present state of distraction, he knew that much. "

Then what are we to do?" Anna demanded. "

Truly you are asking me how we are to prevent it and I do not see that we can." "

Then...what?"

Castiel sighed and admitted, "I do not know." "

My prince..."

Anna began but this time, Castiel cut her off, "You asked me if I had considered the consequences of this action and I have." "

But, my prince you just said..." "

"I have considered it but I have no answers." He looked down at the face of the man and smiled again despite the conversation he was being forced to endure. He trailed his fingers through the man's sand coloured hair. It was a beautiful colour. It felt good between his fingers too. "The truth is, I do not care if I am discovered."

There was silence but Castiel was busy examining the shape the man's lips. Beautiful, truly. As though they had been designed specifically to be kissed. "You do not care?" Anna sounded shocked, though Castiel did not see why she should be. 

"No. I was not looking for this man but I have found him anyway. I will not walk away from him now." It was unthinkable. Castiel would not turn his back on something so incredible. He felt like he was living out some sort of strange dream.

" Please, my prince. Your father will have you killed when this is discovered."

"More than likely." King Crowley was not known for his forgiving nature.

"Please, before it is too late, you have to stop this."

"It's already too late, Anna." He was able to smile at her since he was not sad about the fact. "He is mine."

Anna wrung her hands together, "You are not mated. There is time. I will nurse him back to health myself. I will care for him until he is well and find him a boat he can use to return home. Then I will send him on his way."

"You do not understand."

"Is that so?"

"It is," Castiel insisted. "I do not know this man, yet. I am not going to tell you that I love him as it would not be true. But Anna, I will love him. When I held him, I just knew it. It is as sure as spring following winter. He is supposed to be mine and I am supposed to be his. I will love him more than I knew I was capable of loving anything, I feel it. Every instinct tells me so." He shrugged helplessly, "Do you think a long life as Uriel's Omega mate compares to even the chance at having that? To me?"

Anna looked around the cave as though searching for some inspiration to help her affect him somehow. "My prince..."

I'm sorry, Anna. The chance that I am fortunate enough to experience something like that is worth..." He looked down at the man's face again. He felt his mouth pull into a smile yet again, it did not seem to be something he could control. "Everything."

"What if you are wrong?"

"About the man?" It was a possibility but not a real one; not to Castiel. He knew his Alpha would want him. Castiel had been made for him.

"No, about your father."

He was surprised enough to drag his eyes away from the light freckles over the man's nose. "How so?"

"I am not so convinced the King would be willing to end his only hope at a line of succession." Anna raised her eyebrows.

"He may yet have other..."

"Neither of his other two wives have managed to conceive a child by him. I think we may call it unlikely." Since Castiel could not think of a way to refute that point, he stayed silent. "That being said, perhaps he would simply..." Anna looked at the man pointedly, "Remove the obstacle."

Castiel felt his stomach twist at the thought of his father getting anywhere close to his mate. Since his discomfort was Anna's aim, he fought to hide it. "I know what you are trying to do."

"I am trying to save you a lot of pain. Pain that is impossible to avoid if you continue down this road."

"What would you have me do?" Since Castiel knew Anna believe what she was saying he tried to stay as calm as he could.

"Walk away."

Castiel was less calm now, "I can not!"

"So you will kill him?" Anna demanded in a hiss, "What of his parents? Brothers or sisters, perhaps? What if he has a child somewhere over the sea?"

"He is not mated, I checked." Castiel did not know what he would have done if there had been the scent of a bond on the man.

Anna was relentless, "He does not have to be mated to have fathered a child. Does that not matter?"

"It matters," Castiel conceded. He did not want to be responsible for a fatherless child. Even more, he did not want to be responsible for his Alpha's death. There was an alternative to all of it, though. It was the only solution he could see. If he could just keep the man hidden until he was well... "Perhaps I will run away," Castiel said quietly. He had not thoroughly considered the idea but it had been in the back of his mind almost as he realised who, or what, this man was. It was a risk, to run away with a man he had yet to be introduced to. Yet, it did not feel like it would be any risk at all.

Anna gasped in horror, as he had predicted she would, "They will follow you. Your father..."

"My father does not truly value me," Castiel said.

"He will want you back." Anna insisted and Castiel knew she was right.

He fought against accepting it though, "If I go across the sea, I can get away."

Anna was shaking her head before he had finished the sentence, "He will find you. Or worse, he will send Uriel to find you. Your Alpha will be one to pay first. You will be forced to watch."

Castiel could almost see it. That giant brutish beat of a man killing his Alpha. Perhaps Uriel would use his sword or perhaps just his bare hands. "Stop it, Anna," he begged. "

You have to think, my prince. You have to think rationally."

Castiel stubbornly stared at the man he cradled against his body. Just the sight of his face was able to create wild feelings inside of Castiel. He wanted him; Castiel wanted him more than he had every wanted anything. What was the point of being alive if he could never have anything he wanted? He ignored the voice at the back of his mind, the voice that asked what the point of anything would be if he was the reason his True Mate was killed? "I can not walk away. Not now."

Anna let out a soft sob. Castiel peeked up at her. Her face was a pale and she ws chewing nervously on her lip. He could not think of anything else to say. Two tears slid down Anna's face, one from each eye and he felt a stab of sorrow. Anna's pain was another thing that mattered. But Castiel was ashamed to realised it did not matter quiet enough. He kept the man's body held tight in his arms. "Then please, my prince. I beg of you, at least do not tell him your name."

Castiel staggered from the water. He was shivering all over but he was confident he had managed to erase every trace of Dean from his body. Anna was waiting and immediately began helping him dry himself. "We will have you warm soon, my prince." Castiel was not sure he would ever be warm again but he struggled into his clothes as quickly as he could and continued on the walk back to the castle. He did not want to keep his father waiting any longer.

Chapter Text

Castiel's knees were trembling as he made his way to the main hall. His hands seemed to be shaking too. He forced himself to take long, slow breaths. His father would probably not need his attention for very long. Castiel could keep his focus for long enough, he was sure.

It would not be easy though. The icy water had been a good distraction while he was bathing and drying himself. However, as soon as they had starting walking back towards the castle, Castiel had found himself looking back over his shoulder. He knew it was not visible from where he was. They had walked almost half a mile and the cave would be entirely hidden from them. Still, Castiel had looked. He had looked again and again as they had walked the extra quarter mile back to the castle.

It had not been so bad before. After he and Anna dragged Dean to the cave, Castiel had been reluctant to leave. He had wanted to stay with his Alpha but after she extracted his promise about concealing his identity, she had been able to persuade him to return to the castle for dinner. It had necessitated a quick bath in the sea, but Castiel had managed to sit through the meal and behave himself.

Of course, once the rest of the house was asleep Castiel had crept out and returned to the cave. Anna had found him there in the early hours of the morning and taken him back. Fortunately no one else was awake at that hour and Castiel was able to avoid having to wash in the sea again. Then, Castiel had insisted on returning after lunch despite Anna's protests that he might be missed. He had not cared. He wanted to return to his Alpha.

He had returned and this time, Dean was awake...

Yes, it had been awkward from the moment he first scented Dean, this need to be near him. However, it had not been this bad. He could not seem to stop himself from continually looking back. Every step he took away from his Alpha made this odd sensation in his gut worse. It was not pain exactly. It was more like his body was trying to speak to him, to explain that Castiel was doing something it did not approve of.

He hurried up the stone hewn steps after Anna, rubbing vaguely at a spot below his sternum. "Are you well, my prince?"

"Yes, Anna. Thank you. Just tired, I believe." He certainly hoped that was all it was.

The castle felt warm after the cool evening air. Castiel felt his cheeks flush and tried to slow his pace. He did not want his father to think Castiel had deliberately kept him waiting. However, he should not look as though he had been running either.

Castiel fell back on years of practice and training with ease. He straightened his shoulders and held his chin paralell with the floor. He evened his steps and forced his breathing into a steady pattern. It was an easy task after so many years.

By the time he approached the doors to the great hall, Castiel was confident he looked as he should. He nodded to the soldier who stood at attention and the man bowed deeply before pulling the door open and entering. Castiel waited with Anna to his right and two paces behind him; exactly as they should be.

When the man returned he was not alone. A flash of red hair told Castiel all he needed to know. He tried very hard not to groan aloud, "The King will see you soon."

Castiel forced himself to smile pleasantly. He had expected Rowena to remain on her tour of the south for at least another month. Her early return was unexpected and unwelcome. Still, he nodded politely, "Thank you, Grandmother."

Rowena's eyes narrowed, "You know I hate it when you call me that." Rowena's glare drifted over Castiel's shoulder and he knew Anna was receiving her serving of bile for the day. His grandmother seemed to despise Anna above any of their other servants. For years, Anna had insisted that it was only because Rowena was jealous of other red-heads. When Castiel was older, he understood it was because Anna had been his mother's maid. Of course, the fact that he was his mother's son did not endear him to Rowena either.

"I am aware you would prefer I called you something else, yes." Castiel conceded. "However, it would be wrong for me to deny you your rightful title." Rowena liked to be referred to as the Queen Mother by everyone. Castiel was one of the few people who could avoid it. After all, he was closer to the throne than she was or would ever be again.

Rowena's glare did not soften, "Wait here." Without waiting for an answer, Rowena turned and swept back into the hall closing the door behind her. "He will see you when he is ready." Her implication was clear: the King would rather speak to his mother than his son.

Castiel wanted to laugh at the idea that being in the King's presence was something he should want. He would do anything to get away from it. He shook his head, genuinely bewildered by his grandmother. She was a strange creature.

He took a few paces away from the door and found himself peering out of the window. The moon would be high for hours yet and Castiel could see plenty from his vantage point. Unfortunately, the only thing he wanted to see was entirely invisible. He tried to force his eyes to penetrate the darkness and overcome the distance. He wanted to believe he could see the smallest flicker of light; as though Dean had put more wood on his small fire, perhaps.

He wanted to return to his Alpha; it was the only thing he could think of clearly.

Castiel blinked and tried to clear his head. He did not know what the King wanted with him but he always needed to keep his wits about him for their meetings. Meetings with Rowena in attendance as well could be even more trying. She liked to contradict everything he said, sometimes just for the entertainment it afforded her.

Over the years it had become somewhat routine and Castiel had gotten better and better at outwitting her as he grew up. It only served to antagonize her, of course. He just did not feel as though he had the energy to go through it all this evening. He needed to decide how he was going to get out of the castle later tonight. The servants quarters or the kitchen? Perhaps dropping onto the stable roof? All were possible. He decided to try the kitchen tonight.

His skin felt as though it was itching all over. He wanted to get back there. Now. He did not want to wait and endure whatever horror his father had dreamed up for him this time. It was sure to be unpleasant if Rowena had been involved in it. Perhaps they had decided Uriel was not appropriate? Perhaps they had managed to draw the devil himself into a marriage contract.

Castiel wanted to rest against the cool stone walls but he did not. He maintained the facade of control perfectly. He did not feel in control; he felt as though everything was moving around him. He wanted to go back to Dean so badly. He had to go back, soon. He belonged with Dean. His Alpha needed him and he was here and not there. It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

He had meant what he said to Anna. Even before Dean awoke, Castiel had felt instinctively that he would do anything, risk anything, to be with his Alpha. The only problem was that he had been thinking of danger to himself, at the time. Anna had been all too quick to point out that Dean would be the expendable one as far as King Crowley was concerned. Castiel was unfortunate in that he was too intelligent not to see that she was right. Then his mind took him further.

Uriel would be displeased, of course, if Castiel was found to have been bedded by another Alpha, but it would not be an insurmountable problem. Likely, he would be returned to the castle and...contained for a while. At least until it could be determined beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no mongrel pup to worry about. He would be married to Uriel as originally planned, Castiel was sure of it. Uriel would be angry but he would not give up everything he could gain from such a union.

Dean was the one who would pay the bloodiest price. He would not be allowed to live. Anna was probably correct that Castiel would be forced to watch. Yes, he would be made to see Dean pay with his life for what they had done.

He wracked his brain desperately. He had to be with Dean and he had to keep Dean safe. He had to find some way. He just needed time to think of it. In the mean time, he would have to be more careful than he had ever been in his life. No one must ever know about the Alpha.

"Anna?" He whispered. She was at his shoulder, as he had expected he would be.

"Yes, my prince?" She kept her voice as soft as his.

"There...there is no scent, is there?"

Anna knew what he was talking about. This time, Castiel barely caught her answer, "None that I can detect."

"Good." It was somewhat reassuring but Castiel still fretted. His father was an Alpha. If anyone could smell Dean...

Again, Anna seemed to understand his concerns without the need for words, "I may not be an Alpha or an Omega but I am more familiar with your scent than anyone."

He smiled at her and it was completely genuine, "Thank you, Anna." To his surprise she did not return the smile. Instead, she peered closely into his eyes. Then, he gaze drifted over his whole face.

"Are you well?"

Castiel was about to confirm that he felt fine but he found himself hesitating. The truth was that he felt a little odd. That strange sensation was still there in his chest and his face still felt warm even though he should have long since recovered from the brisk walk down the beach. "In fact, I do not feel quite like myself."

Anna was instantly concerned, "Should I...?"

Castiel waved a hand, "Please, do not concern yourself. Perhaps I am simply...tired." This time his smile was almost apologetic though not quite. He was sorry Anna was distressed but he could not be sorry about what he had done with Dean.

Anna gently placed a hand on his arm. She worried her lip with her teeth but finally she spoke, "Was...my prince, was he gentle with you? Forgive me for asking." Now Anna was the one flushing a dozen shades of red.

Castiel nodded, "He was. And there is nothing to forgive, Anna."

Anna hesitated again but apparently could not contain herself. "Then perhaps I could ask if it was...as you hoped?" She practically blurted the words out in a hurried whisper.

If they had been alone together in his chambers, Castiel knew he would have laughed aloud. Anna looked mortified but clearly her curiosity would not let her be. "And more," he assured her. Rather than looking pleased, Anna's shoulders slumped. "This makes you unhappy? I hoped you would be pleased for me."

"I want to be. I hope you believe that. I'm glad you and he were..." Her voice trailed away and she quickly looked away. "But I clung to the hope that you were somehow wrong. I do not see how this can end well, my prince." Since he had been thinking the same things mere moments before, Castiel did not see how he could argue with that assessment. His eyes drifted to the window again and he peered into the distance.

His Alpha was out there. Somehow it made more of a difference to everything than Castiel could have imagined. Before, there was just Uriel and nothing else. There did not seem to be any other direction for him; if there was life, there was Uriel. And then suddenly: Dean. Dean was everything else in the world. He was a myriad of possibilities and an endless well of potential and, most importantly, he was Castiel's.

There had to be a way, there just had to be. Fate could not be so cruel as to lead him to his True Mate and then take him away. "If I ran away..." Castiel whispered.

Anna gasped in horror, "Please, not here."

"If, Anna." Castiel said pointedly, fixing her with a stare she could not drop. She nodded, finally. "Would you...would you..."

For some reason Castiel could not speak just then. He felt foolish suddenly; he felt like a child asking their mother if she would always be by their side. Yet again, he did not need to finish the question and he need not have been concerned. She tightened the grip she still had on his arm, "Until the end of the world, my little love."

Castiel blinked back a tear or two, "I love you, too."

"The King will see you now." Rowena had opened the door to the great hall again. She seemed somewhat put out that they had not been waiting anxiously for her return.

Castiel nodded curtly and blinked repeatedly to clear any trace of the tears. He nodded to Anna who retook her position at his side without another word. He felt bolstered. If Anna could face this with a straight spine, then he could damn well do the same.

He had not broken down in front of his father since before his mother's death. Even when he was told of his betrothal to Uriel, Castiel had waited until he was away from his father before he had given in to his emotions. He took a deep breath and strode forward, through the door.

His father, King Fergus Crowley I, surveyed him with a small smile. It had always been the same smile, ever since Castiel had presented. It was somehow proud but it did not convey affection to his son. It was rather a pride in himself that the King felt. "Castiel, welcome."

Castiel bowed deeply, "Your Majesty."

"You are recovered?"

"I was not truly unwell, my King. I just needed some fresh air." Castiel kept his tone light, almost dismissive, as though his absence was nothing of import.

King Crowley flicked a hand at the various men in the room. They all scurried as quickly as they could leaving Castiel with his father, Anna and Rowena. The King's personal guard maintained their stations around the room but they could be trusted absolutely. The King had ensured their trustworthiness; he'd had small hot needles used with precision to rob the men of their hearing. "I wanted to ask you how the wedding preparations are coming?"

Castiel was taken by surprise. He had given very little thought to the wedding overall but even less in the last few days. He turned on his heel, taking care not to present his back to the King, and paced a little as though thinking. In truth, he was thinking quite frantically for something suitable he could say. "I have considered many things," he said, stalling for time.

"Such as?" Rowena demanded as though she did not believe a word he said. Clearly, his beloved grandmother supported his marriage entirely. In all likelihood because she knew how much Castiel would despise it.

"Such as," Castiel said to her while trying to settle on anything. "Will we be inviting the entire town to join us for the festivities? It will dictate much."

It was an old tradition and it was the first thing to come to mind. The whole town had attended his grandfather's wedding to Rowena, he knew as much. She had spoken of it with a lot of pride in the past. Predictably, she did not like the idea when it involved her grandson. "I do not think that is necessary," she sniffed.

"It would be a nice gesture..." Castiel began but she cut him off.

"At enormous expense!"

Castiel ignored her and looked at his father. "And it would demonstrate our lack of concern for such things as enormous expenses." The King was always the one to decide which road to take when Castiel and Rowena disagreed. In fact, Castiel was sure he quite enjoyed it. King Crowley loved ruling Ireland but he liked to rule his family sometimes too.

"Occasionally demonstrating our status can be beneficial," the King conceded.

"There are better ways to do that, Fergus," Rowena snapped. The King raised his eyebrows and peered down at her from his elevated chair. "I mean, Your Majesty."

Castiel would probably have derived a certain entertainment from this, even a few weeks ago. Outsmarting his grandmother amused him on occasion. As it was, he just wanted to say the words that would being this to a speedy conclusion. "I heard a rumour that Lord Azazel of Lancashire invitied the town to the wedding of his daughter, Margaret."

The King chuckled and looked at his son, "Well played, Castiel." King Crowley would never let it be said that a Briton held a better wedding for their offspring that he did.

"Fergus..." Rowena shrieked.

"Mother!"

Castiel drifted away from the conversation. His eyes stayed focused and he knew vaguely what was being said but no more. He did not truly need to know more. His father and grandmother would argue for some time but he had successfully diverted their attention for now. Perhaps he could raise the subject of the date if he needed a further distraction. Rowena had married on the 15th of January. Just the suggestion of the same day, regardless of month, would incense her. It would suffice.

There was a window in this room. Castiel could see the sea through it. In fact, if he took a step forward he might be able to see the edge of the beach. Two steps and he would definitely be able to see the moonlit sand. If he just took another step then...

Silence had fallen in the hall. His father and grandmother had stopped arguing. When Castiel turned they were both looking at him. Rowena wrinkled her nose as though he had done something distasteful. Castiel could not imagine what that was. He supposed not paying attention might be considered rude. "I apologise, I was thinking of the date..."

"In Spring, I should think."

Castiel frowned. His father's words made no sense. He had been told clearly that he would be mated to Uriel at his very next heat and married either soon after or before. "I do not understand."

"You told Uriel your next heat was due no less than a month from now!" Castiel found Rowena's tone unnecessarily accusing.

He frowned at her, "Yes, about a week ago I told him it was due in more than a month but less than two." They were both staring at him. Rowena looked indigant, his father exasperated. "I told him as I assumed you wanted me to." Castiel clarified.

Small fingers touched his arm and he turned to find Anna had moved close to his side. "My prince..." She smiled apologetically and then gave a delicate sniff. Castiel felt as though his heart had stopped beating. This could not be happening, not here and certainly not now. Anna had told him, she had said out in the hallway that there was no trace of Dean that she could smell. She had all but promised him. Anna's eyes widened in mirrored horror as she looked at him. Castiel was surprised that she had reacted so slowly. "It has arrived early, my prince." Anna said urgently and moved to grip his arm. She was looking at him as though expecting something but Castiel was still mid-panic.

What should he do? Should he run? Would he be able to get a horse from the stables? No, there would be no time. He just had to get away and back to Dean. They could decide what to do as soon as they were togther again. A hot flood of heat swept through his body at just the thought of Dean. He felt his face flush, entirely out of his control.

It was that involuntary flush more than anything that helped Castiel make sense of Anna's words. Early? Something had come early?

Wait...had Anna said...and his father...

Castiel considered his current state and the way he had been feeling since he had left Dean. He was going into an early heat apparently. "Oh," he said finally. It was not good, but it was better than his original assumption that they had smelled Dean on him somehow.

"Castiel, if this is some tactic..." His father sounded very irritated but Castiel did not care at that particular moment. He was a little ashamed he had not noticed his condition before others had.

"Your Majesty..." He did not know how to explain the sudden onset of his heat, at least not to his father. Castiel thought he might have something of an idea though.

"I know you do not care for Uriel." The King continued.

Castiel was trying to think and it was hard to do while focusing on his father. Fortunately, Anna noticed his distraction and came to his rescue. "You Majesty, if I may, the prince's last heat was four months ago."

Rowena scoffed, unimpressed. "As though we could accept your word."

Anna was not chastened; she continued to address the King directly. She did not do so often and she looked very nervous. "But Your Majesty, it fell on the first of May and the prince had to leave the festivities early. Perhaps you remember?"

Crowley paused and peered at Castiel, "I do recall that."

Anna let out a noticeable sigh of relief and hurried on, "The prince has gone into heat noticeably early or late only twice in his life, Your Majesty."

Castiel could have kissed her but made the effort to keep his face impassive and gave his father a helpless shrug, "I am as surprised as you are."

King Crowley scowled but Castiel knew there was little he could say. Rowena almost hissed in irritation, "Fergus, you do not believe this woman, surely?"

"Mother, you are being ridiculous." Crowley glared at her, and waved a hand at Castiel, "His heat is simply early. It happens from time to time."

Rowena looked beyond furious. She glared at her son and then Castiel and even Anna, but apparently could not think of another argument to make.

Castiel felt a surge of warmth ripple under his skin. He should have realised what was happening sooner but the ache in his chest had misled him. It was not a usual symptom of his heat. Now, Castiel thought he might understand what it was and why it was happening. He could feel himself swaying where he stood.

The heat was building and he almost staggered when he felt a trickle of slick run down between his legs. It was beyond humiliating to have his father and grandmother in the room. Anna gripped his arm, "Should I escort the prince to his chambers, Your Majesty?"

Crowley had already taken several steps away from them both. Now, he nodded firmly, "Yes, by all means."

"My prince," Castiel turned to her, he was starting to feel light-headed, "You are not yourself. Please, please come with me."

He obeyed the gentle pressure on his arm and let her lead him out of the room. Anna led him down the hall, past the soldier who still guarded the door. The man stiffened but did not say anything. Castiel waited until they had turned the corner to whisper hurriedly to Anna, "How am I going to get out of the castle?"

"Let us reach you chambers first, my prince."

Castiel did not want to do that. His chambers were further away from the doors, further away from all the ways out, further away from his Alpha. "But..."

"Please, my prince," Anna begged.

Castiel groaned as another flood of heat surged through him but followed her. It seemed to get harder with each step they took, but he kept going until he reached his chambers and Anna had shut the door behind them. He collapsed into the nearest chair and wriggled uncomfortably. Slick was soaking through his leggings and that feeling in his chest was intensifying. If he had needed further proof that meeting his Alpha had somehow caused this, he had it now. As another surge of heat flooded his body, the feeling became an ache. He could not stay here. "Anna, how am I going to get to Dean?"

Anna sighed and came to kneel by his chair. Her face looked distorted and he knew he did not have long before he was all but lost. The need was going to overpower him. He felt more slick pour from his body. His cock was stiffening just at the thought of his Alpha. "My prince, you are not." She took his hand gently in hers.

She spoke as though to a frightened child but her words made no sense to Castiel. Of course, he must go to his Alpha. Omegas in heat needed their Alphas. "I must. He is the reason this is happening."

"What do you mean?"

"I..." He frowned and tried to concentrate on making sense, "I think my heat is early because...well because my body wants to mate."

Anna sat back on her heels and rubbed a hand over her face, "Oh, God in heaven."

Castiel was the one to reach for her this time. He clung to her hand as though she could save him from this uncoming tide of arousal and need. "I feel different. My chest hurts and I know why. I need to get to Dean. He will make it better."

Anna just shook her head again, sadly, "You can not. Your father will have the door guarded, as usual, within the next few minutes." It was true, the King liked to make sure no one could get to Castiel when he was in heat. Beta soldiers took shifts all through his cycle. In the past he had been glad of it.

"Anna." Her name came out as a whining sound. More heat, more slick and now, a throbbing ache between his legs. It seemed, oddly, to almost echo the one in his chest. "I need him."

"How, my prince? How do you intend to get out of your chambers and out of the castle and then back to the cave with no one noticing you?"

"I know the ways out," Castiel insisted.

"Yes, but this time you can not escape notice. Even Betas can smell an Omega in heat."

He found himself getting angry with Anna. How could she not understand? This was not a question. He needed Dean. He needed his Alpha to hold him down and knot him and bite and mate him. He needed it all. Castiel groaned at the very thought of Dean's hands on his body at that moment. "I have to get to Dean."

"Please..."

"I have to!"

Anna draped one of his arms around her shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "You must get into bed," she panted.

Castiel wanted to struggle but his legs were starting to shake. She pulled him relentlessly towards his bed. "No," he protested weakly.

"Please."

"No!" He fought then and managed to wrench himself away from Anna but his legs were too weak to support him and he sank to his knees.

Anna was at his side in less than a second, "My prince, I beg you. You must be quiet."

Castiel did not care. He did not care who heard him call out. He only cared about being loud enough for Dean to hear him. Dean would come if he heard, Castiel was sure of it. "Alpha..." He intended to scream the word but it came out as a whimper. Castiel slumped down to the floor.

There were cool hands on his face but they did nothing to help. "Oh my poor love," Anna whispered.

"Please, help me..."

"I will help you, I promise."

XXX

Dean paced around the cave, agitated beyond all reason. He did not know the exact time but he knew it was getting late into the night. His Omega had been gone for hours and he did not care for it at all. Michael had promised to return and Dean believed that he would but he, Dean had never been very good at waiting.

Suppose his Omega had meant that he would return in the morning? Dean did not know how he would bear it if that was the case. He could not sleep without his Omega, surely Michael would understand that? It seemed foolish, it was foolish, but Dean could not deny it. He tried to imagine lying down and closing his eyes but it did not seem possible. He had found his True Mate. Dean had bedded him. Why should they have to spend a night apart ever again?

The only positive thing to come out of his solitude, as far as Dean could see, was that he had had some time to think. It had been hard to do that with his Omega close by. His head had simply refused to co-operate. Everything was confusing. Now, Dean knew what he had to do. He had to ask Michael to leave Ireland and come home with him.

There was no way Dean could stay here. He wished that he was in a position to make that kind of sacrifice for his Omega truly, he did. But he could not escape from the fact that there was no way they could make a life here together and that was what Dean wanted. He had never given serious thought to mating with anyone before and had always assumed he and his father would decide on a suitable choice together when the time came. Now, Dean knew he would never accept another. Michael was his and there would be no discussion.

He wanted his Omega and he wanted...everything with him. He wanted a life with Michael, a home and children. Unless Michael did not want them, of course. As his father's heir it was his duty to continue their family line, but there was Sammy who would be able to provide children. Dean would go along with whatever Michael decided. He almost hoped his Omega would refuse to provide an heir. Not because Dean did not want to have children, but because he would feel better about dragging Michael away from his home if there was something he could do in return. Opposing John of Winchester would be a way of showing his Omega how far Dean would go for him...

So all Dean had to do was ask the question. He felt better for having reached some sort of resolution within himself but now, all he could do was wait and the delay was grating on his nerves unpleasantly.

Twice, Dean had found himself going outside and staring down the beach but in reality he did not know where he was. He did not even know in which direction to start walking. There were signs of life far off in both directions. He did not want to go the wrong way and have his Omega return to find him gone.

All Dean could do was pace around the cave but even that was not without consequences. Unless he sat down regularly, Dean started to feel light-headed and a little sick. He had not noticed how weak he felt when his Omega was there but without him, it was hard to deny. He attributed it to the fact that he had been recently poisoned and then spent what probably amounted to several days crossing the sea in the cold and the wet. It was a reasonable assumption.

With an irritated grumble, Dean sat again and waited for the dizziness to pass. He could pace again when it cleared. His head was between his knees when a voice called out to him. "Alpha?"

His heart thumped in his chest so hard that Dean was afraid it might stop. He leapt to his feet and began pulling the boards away from the entrance to the cave. He was so excited that he did not question why the Beta, Anna would call out to him and his Omega would not.

The answer was there when Dean peered outside to see that Michael had not returned, "Where is he?" Dean asked, immediately.

Anna did not step inside, instead she held up her hands as she had the last time they had spoken. "My lord, he sent me to explain."

"Explain what?"

"Perhaps we could step inside?" Anna indicated the cave.

It took everything Dean had to step backwards calmly and allow Anna to enter. He felt as though he did not want her to. Despite what his actions up until then would indicate, he had nothing against the woman personally. She had taken his Omega away and he resented that. But in truth, his reluctance to let her inside would extend to anyone. His Omega should be here with him, not this Beta woman. Dean took a deep breath and suppressed his impulses as best he could. If he kept frightening this woman, she would grow to despise him and he did not want that. "Where is he?" Dean asked again, as calmly as he could.

"He..." Anna swallowed hard, "He got back to the castle and spoke to the King..."

"And?" Dean could not help but prompt.

Anna sighed, her expression downcast. "He went into heat, my lord."

Dean's mind raced. His Omega was in heat. His whole body trembled at just the thought. "Where is he?" Dean asked for the third time and he was less calm. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

Anna bit her lip and took a step backwards, "He can not come here until it is over." Dean growled low and advanced on her. Clearly, this Beta did not understand. He could not be separated from his Omega now. They needed to be together so Dean could take care of him, breed him, knot him, mate him. He felt his cock start to stiffen at the thought. He could mate his Omega, right now. Dean moved forwards again, but this time Anna did not back away. She reeked of fear but still, she did not retreat. "My lord, please, no."

"Take me to him." Dean demanded and saw Anna wince. He did not use his Alpha voice often as he did not need to. His father gave the orders as a rule. But Dean knew there was weight to it. Even a Beta would feel the weight of an order and Dean had never given one so firmly in his life.

Anna obviously did feel it. She sank to her knees and dropped her eyes. Her shoulders shook with sobs as Dean stood over her. "I can not do that."

"Does he not want me?" Dean asked. Anna did not reply and he knew the answer. "Then take me."

Anna sobbed again and Dean could smell sadness mixed in with fear now. Running through her whole scent there was a ribbon of pain. Disobeying an Alpha as strong as Dean had consequences and Anna was suffering through them. Still, when she raised her eyes, Dean saw a little mettle there. "No," she whispered.

"Now," Dean insisted. He should not be doing this and he knew it. There was no honour in controlling someone like Anna. She could not fight against his orders; she had no way of resisting. Anna had only two options, obey or suffer. Dean should care that he was making her suffer but he could not focus on that. All he could think of was his Omega, alone and in pain. Suffering through his heat alone because this stupid Beta did not understand that he needed his Alpha.

Tears streamed down Anna's face as she crouched on her knees and Dean was grudgingly impressed. He knew Alphas who would have yielded to him by now. "You will have to kill me," she said finally.

Dean felt every muscle in his body tense. He could do it. He did not think it would be necessary to actually kill Anna. She would have left footprints in the sand. All he needed to do was incapacitate her and follow the trail. It would lead to his Omega. He could hit her over the head or hold her throat until she lost consciousness... Then Dean remembered and felt his heart constrict in his chest. A surge of guilt rose up inside of him. This woman was important to his Omega. She had come here to tell Dean what was happening on Michael's orders but Michael had not come himself.

He did not doubt that his Omega wanted him there but perhaps what they wanted was not the most important thing at this moment? If it was that simple, his Omega would be here.

Dean looked at Anna's tear-streaked face and made an effort to control himself. He was not a mindless Alpha who was led around by the need to knot and breed. He was Dean of Winchester and he was better than that. "I will not hurt you, Anna." Dean said. Then he looked at her face and had to swallow back a humourless laugh. He had already hurt her after all. He just had to hope that she would understand. "I will not touch you. I...apologise for the orders. Michael told me that you matter to him."

Anna let out a shuddering breath that perhaps, was supposed to have been a chuckle. "I am glad of it."

Dean turned away from her and paced the cave a few times, trying to maintain the meager control he had grasped. "Why?" He asked.

Anna clearly did not need him to make himself any clearer, "Michael lives in the castle. Even with me, they would not let you inside the gate."

"You must know other ways in and out," he tried.

"I do, but I can not get you to where you need to be, not without risking discovery."

It was the wrong thing for Anna to say. To Dean, it conjured up images of men soldiers standing between him and his Omega. It brought his Alpha to the surface again. "I do not care about..." He was growling again, but this time Anna seemed to realise it was not directed at her.

"You must!" Anna all but shouted. "My lord, please you must care. You must care about him."

Dean scowled. The very suggestion that he did not care for Michael was ridiculous. "Of course, I..."
"Then do not kill him," Anna said simply. "If you are found within the castle and anywhere close to him you will both die for it. He will die slowly."

Dean sighed helplessly. He searched for a reason, a justification, a way to argue with Anna. He found none and leant heavily against one of the cave walls. Dean felt as though he was being drained of all the anger he had been feeling only seconds ago. His mind, his body and his instinctive responses were battling with each other. He felt more tired than ever. He wanted to go to his Omega but if he did, Anna said they would both die. Dean would take that risk to himself, but not to Michael. "I feel as though we have had this conversation before, Anna," he said.

For the first time ever in his presence, Anna smiled. It softened every worried line of her face and Dean could see that there was a beauty hiding somewhere inside of her. "So do I. I hope you know that I do not want to have to tell you these things."

"What am I to do?" Dean asked.

"Wait."

Dean hissed angrily. He had known the answer but he truly despised hearing it. He did not know how he was going to endure the next three days. How could he not try to find his Omega when he knew he was needed? Dean buried his hands in his hair and tugged in frustration. "He must come away with me." Dean had not actually intended to speak aloud, but the words left his mouth anyway.

Anna got to her feet and took a hesitant step towards him, but only one. "I believe he wants to."

Dean fixed her with a stare. Somehow it had not occurred to him that Michael would probably be considering the exact same things he was. Apparently, he had already spoken to his maid about it. "He has told you that?" Dean demanded, unable to hide his excitement.

"He seems to think it is the only way you can be together."

"My Omega is clever," Dean said smiling. The knowledge that his Omega wanted to be with him, no matter the cost, made this slightly easier to bear. They might not be together now, but Dean vowed it was the last heat Michael would spend alone. He was not fool enough to assume the knowledge would be enough to keep him calm through the next three days but for now, he would take whatever comfort he could from it.

"He is," Anna agreed.

"He is mine, you know."

Anna nodded, "I believe you."

Dean watched her and realised something that had somehow escaped him until now. Michael was her lord and had earned her loyalty but there was more. She loved him. Dean found he was able to give her a genuine smile. "But...he is yours too." Anna actually flushed at his words. She dropped her eyes and her fingers twisted themselves together in knots. "He must be in pain." Dean said and Anna nodded, but she did not raise her eyes. "Then go, do not leave him alone."

Anna's shoulders slumped and Dean realised she had been holding her breath waiting for him to deliver a verdict. He found himself wondering just how afraid she had been to come here. She finally raised her eyes and looked at him, "I will return here, soon."

Dean was already shaking his head, "Do not leave him, I said."

Anna frowned, "You will need food and..."

"The sea, the trees..." Dean waved a hand towards the cave mouth, "I will not go hungry, I assure you."

"No one must see you."

Dean wanted to laugh at that. "Go. Take care of him."

XXX

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Castiel swam back to consciousness. Light was streaming into the room. His hips were thrusting against the bed, sliding through the slick that had poured from him as he slept. His cock ached painfully, hard and heavy between his legs but it was not the worst. He groaned as more slick trickled from him. He had not been able to keep his hands away from his hole this time. At some point, he had desperately shoved fingers inside of himself seeking relief.

Castiel's hands bit into the fabric beneath him and felt it give under his nails. Another job for Anna.

She had replaced the pillows he had ripped apart with his teeth. She bandaged the small crescent-shaped cuts on his hands from where his fingernails had cut through the flesh. She coaxed him into eating and drinking when he growled and cursed at her. She wiped him down with cool water again and again and again.

It did not help.

Castiel had never experienced a heat like this before. All were painful and uncomfortable and humiliating but this was something more. The sensation in his chest flared every time a wave of heat hit him and it had become truly painful as the hours passed. His entire body seemed to be hollering it's rage and displeasure at him. He knew what he needed and his body knew he knew what he needed. It was as though it simply did not understand why it was being denied.

"Anna," he whimpered and instantly there were cool hands touching him, stroking his forehead.

"I'm here, my prince."

"How much longer? I can...I do not think I can bear this...I feel as though I am dying..."

His eyes had drifted shut again, but he still heard the small sob Anna let out. Somehow, her voice was steady when she spoke, "Not long now. It should only last one more day."

"And night," Castiel groaned. He might not be able to focus on very much at this moment, but he knew this heat would not end early.

A cool cloth touched his face. "Hold on, my little love. You are so close."

He wanted to snap at Anna, to tell her how little comfort the attention was providing but even in this state, he knew Anna was doing everything she could to help. "I need him," Castiel whimpered instead.

Anna sighed, "I know. He will be waiting for you."

Just the thought of Dean caused Castiel more pain, but it was the only thing he wanted to think about; the only thing he could focus on was his Alpha. "Is he well?"

"No, but he is better than you."

Castiel could not imagine how it felt to be an Alpha. All he knew was that if Dean was in rut and Castiel could not go to him...Just the thought of it was horrible. "Dean...Alpha..." There were tears on his face as he imagined his poor Alpha raging.

"I know, I know," Anna said soothingly. It did not sooth him.

"No, you do not know! You know nothing." Castiel half-hissed, half-growled.

"Apologies, my prince."

If she had argued with him, Castiel might have been able to stay angry but the quiet acceptance was somehow worse. "Anna..."

Her hand stroked his hair back again. "Sweet prince."

Castiel did not deserve her loyalty. He knew he was behaving like a beast; he just did not know how to stop it. "Please, tell him I need him," he whispered, brokenly.

"Castiel..."

He was beyond shame. His whole body ached. The friction against his cock was causing him pain more than pleasure. He was wrung out. "Please...Anna...tell him to come..."

"I will," Anna promised and she held a cup to his parched lips. "Just drink this first."

She would not tell Dean, Castiel knew it. He drank the water anyway.

XXX

The rising sun woke Dean. He wished he could sleep longer. The more he slept, the less time he had to be awake without his Omega. Unfortunately, his body had been trained for years to wake with the sun and such habit could not be broken easily. He dragged his hands over his face and tried to fight down the growl already rising in his chest.

He had been waging a constant battle with his body for days. It had been bad enough to watch his Omega walk away from him in the first place. Then Anna had come to tell him of Michael's heat and what had been difficult became torturous.

Dean knew he could not smell his Omega from here but he felt as though he could. The knowledge that Michael was somewhere close by and writhing with need was enough. He could almost imagine the scene; his Omega laid out like a banquet just for Dean, hard, eyes black, slick shining between his spread legs. Except that Dean was not there to take advantage of it.

His cock had already been hard when he woke but now it gave an angry throb. Dean did not fight the need to growl this time. How much longer would he...they...have to wait? Omega's heats varied in length from person to person. Some could pass in five days, others lasted for a week. This was only the fourth morning. Even if Michael's heats were short, Dean knew he still had another full day and night to get through. It was intolerable.

Dean was suddenly angry. He had been flipping between emotions rapidly for days now. One moment he felt nothing but helplessness at the thought of his Omega alone and in heat. Then he would rail at the injustice of it. He was supposed to be there; it was his responsibility but it was also his right. He had a right to his mate's heat.

Usually then he would switch to feeling agonized. Michael was not his mate yet, but Dean wanted it more than anything and he was missing his chance. Every second that passed was another missed opportunity to claim Michael as his mate. The thought was usually enough to either make Dean feel depressed or angry.

Even when he finally had his Omega back in his arms, it would be another half-year before Dean could lay a permanent claim on Michael. He wanted to do it now, not then.

Dean all but threw himself to his feet, kicking aside the furs in his anger. His cock was aching but Dean refused to give himself any relief. He had done so several times over the last days and felt irritated with himself each time. Why should he feel relief when his Omega could not find his?

Throwing a few logs on top of the embers, Dean started shoving aside the planks of wood and blinked in the light. He tried to remind himself to be cautious as he stuck his head outside. Anna had returned only once since her late night visit to tell Dean of Michael's heat. She had arrived the following morning with a basket of food and her promise to watch over Michael until he was himself again. She had also assured him that this stretch of beach was quiet as it was near the castle and he could use the sea for bathing as he liked. However, she warned him to be wary anyway. Sometimes people did come here.

No one was visible this morning and Dean was glad of it. The cold water would help to clear his mind of the fog of lust a little. He had bathed three times the previous day. Perhaps today, he would bathe more frequently. Dean stripped off his tunic and leggings, leaving them just inside the cave. He propped the boards back in place and, with another quick glance around, hurried to the water's edge.

The water was cold enough to make his skin hum but Dean relished it. It was a welcome distraction. He forced his legs to move through the water, wading out until it was waist deep. He let out a sigh of relief as his cock went down, finally, in light of the cold. It was actually somewhat painful, but Dean kept going. He preferred to be far enough out so as not to be easily spotted anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Dean threw himself forwards and under the water. As it closed over his head, he forced himself not to gasp and swam a few hard strokes further out to sea. When he raised his head to take a breath, Dean had to bounce on his toes to keep his head above the water. He let his eyes scan the shoreline. There was no one on the beach.

He relaxed a little and went a few feet closer to shore. A breeze blew across the surface of the water but the tide was not strong. He swam back and forth as quickly as he could, his muscles aching with the weight of the cold. Dean knew he would not be able to stay in the water for much longer but he did not want to go to back to the cave. It had started to feel as though the rock walls were closing in on him. There was almost no scent of his Omega in the cave anymore. When Dean had been trying to fall asleep the previous night, he had had to bury his face in the fur cloaks just to find a trace.

His thoughts of Michael had made him slow his swimming and now he felt colder than ever. He only had a moment to feel annoyed with himself for getting distracted, before a violent shiver wracked his body. He reluctantly turned in the water and pushed himself towards the shore. He wished he could just...take a walk or something, but he knew it would be a bad idea. An unfamiliar Alpha near the castle was sure to draw attention. There was only the increasingly empty cave waiting for him.

Dean had gotten out farther than he had realised and he kicked his legs hard to get back to the shore. He was moving closer steadily but he was also feeling the cold right down to his bones. He was glad when he could feel the sand beneath his toes. Dean had begun to trudge across the sea bed when his eyes detected movement to his right on the beach. He froze.

The figure was far away but not far enough. There was no way Dean would be able to get back to the shore and across the sand back to his cave without being entirely visible to whoever this person was. Dean cursed the cold water. He could not cross, but he could not stay here for very...he felt his mouth drop open.

There was something entirely too familiar about the shape hurrying down the beach but Dean did not dare let himself believe it. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and his legs started moving him forward again. Dean might be trying to deny it, but his body knew and it wanted him to move. The figure was wearing a heavy cloak but the dark hair visible above whipped in the wind. Dean knew that hair. He had tangled that hair round his fingers.

Dean threw himself forward into the water again. He did not seem to feel the cold as much this time. He kicked his legs frantically, keeping his head above the water so he could watch the beach. It was his Omega. Dean did not understand how it was possible but he did not want to question it. He was afraid if he did that Michael might vanish. This time when the wind blew it carried a scent with it that made Dean almost frantic to reach the shore.

Michael did not see him immediately and Dean would have had to stop swimming to call out. His Omega was still hurrying across the sand towards the cave, towards Dean. He was struggling slightly to cross the sand at speed as it shifted beneath his feet but he kept moving. Dean could make out his Omega's face now, his sharp Alpha eyes focusing closely, and his heart soared. It was truly him.

Dean put his feet down and found that the water was barely above his waist now. He waded as quickly as his body would let him. For the first time since he had entered the sea, Dean's body felt warm.

His Omega continued to half-stride, half-run down the beach but then, abruptly, he stopped. His head snapped up and turned to look out to the sea. As though he had known exactly where to look, Michael's eyes met his. Dean froze for a second as though pinned beneath the gaze. He could see his Omega's lips forming his name but they were still too far apart for Dean to hear him.

Dean growled low in his throat and started moving again. Michael was all but running and Dean felt an angry snarl build when he saw his Omega trip and fall to his knees. Michael was up straight away but Dean was still angry; he was not angry with Michael but with himself. He should have been waiting at the cave.

The water sluiced off his body as he sank his feet into the sand, pushing himself through the water. It was only just above his knees now. He was so close.

Michael had reached the water's edge, directly in line with where Dean was emerging but he did not stop at the water. Instead he carried on running, his feet splashing water high into the air.

Dean wanted to call out to him to stop. He did not want Michael running into this freezing water when he was so close. But Dean did not stop him. He did not want to slow long enough to speak and he did not truly want to wait.

Michael struggled through the water at ankle level. Dean could see the heavy cloak was starting to weigh him down but it did not matter. The water was below Dean's knees, then it was lower, it was barely above his ankles and Michael was reaching for him and Dean was opening his arms and finally, he yanked the warm body to him. He managed to speak a single word before he had hold of Michael's hair and was pressing their mouths together. "Omega..." It was hard and wet and so perfect. It was nothing that could be conjured up from simple memory. Just the feeling of Michael's tongue, dipping into his mouth to taste him, made Dean try to press him closer.

"Alpha..." Michael gasped between kisses. "Dean."

Michael's whole body was pressed against him but it did not feel like enough. Dean leant down and gripped his Omega's thighs, hauling the man into his arms. Michael let out a whine and his fingers dug hard into Dean's neck. His legs wrapped themselves around Dean's hips and he pressed ever closer. Dean's whole body was waking up. The respite he had gotten from the cold water was all but forgotten. Warmth was coating his skin and his cock was stiffening in response. "I have missed you, Omega," Dean said, panting heavily.

Michael did not seem to be able to speak. He let out a high-pitched whine and pulled their mouths apart, dragging his lips across Dean's jaw to the column of his throat. His fingers tugged at Dean's hair and Dean did not hesitate. He bared his throat and let his Omega scent and lick at the skin there. He was still standing in the sea but he barely noticed. He just clung to the man in his arms, feeling him warm and wriggling and smelling so, so sweet. Too sweet, in fact. "Your scent..." Dean gasped. "Heat..." He had never smelled anything like this but somehow his body knew what it was.

Michael was rubbing his face on Dean's skin. He kept whimpering and trying to push himself against Dean's body. His words were muffled. "It's over..." His body trembled in Dean's arms, "But it still hurts."

Dean did not need to hear anymore. He tightened his grip on his Omega and began to make his way out of the water and towards the cave. Michael whimpered and let go of Dean entirely to fumble at the clasp of his cloak. Dean had to adjust his grip to keep hold of his Omega. "Wait, we are nearly there."

Even in his addled state, Dean knew it would not be a good idea to leave a trail of clothes to the cave. Michael, however, seemed to be entirely beyond reason. He struggled with the clasp until it gave. Fortunately, Dean had his arm around Michael's back so the cloak did not fall to the sand.

Undeterred, Michael started trying to tug his tunic up his back. He reeked of desperation and lust, mixed with the heady scent of slick. Dean could almost feel the need rolling of his Omega; it was coming in waves. It was making his head spin but he was desperately trying to focus. They were close to the cave now. "I have you," Dean murmured. "I will take care of you now. I promise."

Michael let out a whine but stopped pulling at his clothes. Instead he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and pressed their lips back together. His whole body clung to Dean, who could not stop his growl when he felt Michael's tongue sweep over his. He did not want to do this in the open. No one but him should see his Omega in such a state but still, Dean could not stop kissing him. He could feel Michael's hard cock pressed between them, the Omega pushing his hips forward, desperate for friction.

He had no choice but to put his Omega down when they finally reached the cave. Michael helped him pull the boards aside to make a big enough space for them to get inside. When they had managed to enter, Michael immediately plastered himself to Dean's back. Dean could feel a constant low growl rumbling in his chest, although there was too much blood rushing through his ears for him to truly hear it. He tried to focus on covering the entrance back up but his body was fighting him.

When he felt Michael slide a hand down his belly to his cock, Dean's legs almost gave way. He had almost forgotten that he was still naked. It had not seemed as important as having his Omega back in his arms. Dean groaned as the fingers tugged roughly. "If you do that again, I can not promise to be gentle," Dean warned as he finally slid the last board into place.

Michael was breathing heavily, he tugged again, harder this time. His tongue stroked the sensitive spot behind Dean's ear. "Good. Want you..."

Dean swiveled around and wrapped his arms around Michael's waist, pulling their bodies flush. Michael all but whimpered into his neck. Dean could feel his fingers sinking into soft skin but he had been serious in his warning. It had been three days, three long days of being denied the thing he wanted; now Michael was here and grabbing at his cock and telling Dean he wanted to be taken, claimed, bedded. The Alpha inside of Dean was roaring, commanding Dean to do as he wanted to, needed to. "Omega..." Dean tried to warn Michael. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his Omega, but Michael seemed determined to coax the animal out of him. His hands had returned to Dean's cock already; tugging and stroking and rubbing through the moisture gathered at the tip.

The scent of slick was heavy on the air and then Michael finally shrugged off the heavy cloak. Dean gasped and fisted his hands in Michael's tunic. "What..." Dean managed to get out before he had to swallow. "You said...your heat..."

Michael kept up his stroking and Dean was only able to cling to his Omega's waist. "I had Anna bring me water to clean up but I did not bathe," Michael breathed into his ear. "I thought you might..."

He did not need to hear any more. Dean reached up to tangle his fingers in Michael's hair. He tugged
roughly and Michael bared his throat with a whine. Dean pressed his nose into the exposed skin, running his parted lips over Michael's throbbing pulse point. His head was pounding but it was not painful. It was a need that flowed through him. Michael had been correct. The scent of heat clinging to his Omega's, his mate's, skin was something Dean could not resist.

His teeth were pressed against the skin before he realised what he was doing. He had Michael's head bent back at an unnatural angle while he took what he wanted. Michael's hair was wrapped around Dean's fingers in tight curls. It had to be causing his Omega pain. He immediately released his grip and pressed kisses to the skin instead. "Sweet...so sweet, my Omega...beautiful..." He tried to put an apology into his words.

Michael did not seem to mind. He had started to push his hips forward, rubbing his cock against Dean's. "Want you to take me...need you...Alpha..."

The scent of Michael's heat, even just the hint that was left, was robbing Dean of his senses. He felt a thrill of nerves pass through him. He had bedded women before in too many different ways to count but this was undeniably different. He had never felt his Alpha so close to the surface. His hands were biting into Michael's hips again; his grip was too rough and Dean knew it. On the other hand, Michael was not complaining and the grip was the only thing stopping him from throwing the Omega down and knotting him. "God help me," he muttered.

"Please..." Michael said as he pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's lips. "Dean, please knot me...Need you to...Waited for days..."

Dean had been waiting too. Later, he would choose that as the moment he truly broke down in the face of his Omega's need. He did not give up control of his Alpha exactly, but he listened to that side of himself. His Omega wanted, needed, him. How could he ignore that plea?

A low growl hummed in Dean's chest when he used his grip to push Michael away from his body. His Omega let out an unhappy whimper but Dean did not give him time to speak. "Strip," he demanded. The voice that rippled out of him was undoubtedly that of his Alpha. Michael's eyes widened and his lips parted. His hands immediately moved to the hem of his tunic and began tugging it up. Dean clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to touch, to help but he did not. It felt satisfying to give an order and watch it be obeyed. Perhaps it was so good because he could see the eagerness in Michael's fingers as they struggled with the fabric. "Good," Dean muttered as his Omega dropped the tunic at his feet. He was especially pleased when Michael did not pause before grappling with the ties on his leggings. He untangled them as he kicked his boots off. Dean's mouth went dry as more flesh was exposed to his eyes. He was barely resisting the urge to reach out but somehow he did. His cock throbbed angrily but he ignored it.

Michael's willing obedience was so beautiful. It stroked something inside of Dean, something he had not known was really there. Still resisting the urge to touch, Dean took a slow step to the left. His Omega was bending down to remove his leggings and Dean licked his lips at the sight of his mate's smooth skin. He wanted to leave marks over every inch of it. He circled Michael as though evaluating prey. His Omega was trembling but Dean could smell the arousal filling the cave. It mixed and tangled with the scent of heat and slick.

The sight of Michael's cock made him growl again. It was red and swollen but there were small areas where the skin looked almost sore. "Alpha..." Michael whimpered.

"Quiet." Dean growled and watched Michael bite his own lip, hard. "Good boy," Dean praised. Michael whined quietly but Dean was looking at the inflamed skin of his Omega's poor cock again. Without thinking it through, Dean dropped to his knees to look closer; his hands reached for Michael's hips. He knew exactly how this had happened. Michael had lain in heat for days and, desperate for relief, he had tugged on his cock again and again. Dean hissed in annoyance.

The fact that he had never given another man pleasure this way seemed unimportant. Dean parted his lips and closed his mouth around Michael's hard cock. He could hear his Omega gasping but it seemed distant. He just suckled gently at the firm flesh in his mouth. He let his tongue stroke over the skin. Michael shuddered and Dean tightened his grip on his Omega's hips.

The scent of slick on the air was growing heavier and Dean was torn. He wanted so much in that moment. He wanted to keep sucking Michael's cock. He wanted to taste the slick he had been thinking of for days. He wanted to lay his Omega down and slide inside; he wanted to thrust until Michael forgot about ever leaving him again.

He sucked a little harder and Michael whimpered. Dean felt hands in his hair but he shook himself free and got to his feet. He yanked Michael towards him and pressed their lips together. Michael came willingly, his body bending and molding against Dean's. "You should have come to me, Omega," Dean said against Michael's lips. He knew there had been no choice at the time, Anna had been very clear on the fact and Dean had been forced to agree with her logic. Now, however, Dean was not thinking logically. His Alpha was angry and needing and the craving was so strong.

Michael did not seem to care. His hands were in Dean's hair again and this time Dean did not shake his Omega off. Instead, he let Michael explore the ways their mouth could fit together. "Yes, Alpha. Apologies. I wanted to." Dean knew that too. He felt it. His Omega had wanted him desperately.

Dean reached down and clutched at Michael's backside. His own skin was damp and Michael seemed to be in a worse condition. His hands slid easily over sweat-soaked skin. When Dean slid his fingers between his Omega's cheeks, the slide became something different. Michael gave a cry that Dean greedily swallowed down, his tongue sweeping inside Michael's mouth. "Unnnhhh...yesssss...Alpha..."

Michael's hole was hot and wet, leaking slick over Dean's fingers. When Dean tugged at the rim with his finger tip, Michael clutched at Dean's shoulders. "You are mine. Your heat is mine," Dean growled, the words rolling out of his mouth. Once they were out, he could not deny the truth of them. He, and his Alpha, both agreed on that. Them being parted while Michael was in heat was...wrong on a fundamental level.

Michael was nodding, his head buried in Dean's neck. "Yes, Alpha. Yours."

He let his finger slip a little deeper, feeling the wet heat with a surge of need. Dean needed that. He would always need it. "You should have let me mate you," Dean added as though it was an afterthought rather than a profound truth; as though he was discussing something trivial instead of a lifetime commitment.

"Yes...please..." Michael begged.

"It is too late now," Dean declared. His anger surged again and he added a second finger, sliding both further into his Omega. "You kept yourself from me."

Michael's knees seemed to have stopped working. He was being held up by his arms clinging to Dean's shoulders and Dean's arm around his waist. His body undulated against Dean's. He seemed to be trying to force himself back on Dean's fingers and rub his cock against Dean's at the same time. "I...I..."

"You did," Dean insisted.

"Please..."

"I said, quiet! You make speak if I ask you a question." The words rang in the air and Dean hesitated. Giving orders like this felt odd but right at the same time. The only thing able to break through the haze of pleasure and satisfaction he was feeling was the possibility that his Omega might not be feeling the same way. He peered into Michael's eyes, searching for some sort of reassurance.

Michael did not speak. He was panting hard, still trying to rub himself both forwards and backwards at the same time. Dean looked for some sign of reluctance but he saw none. Instead, Michael managed to give Dean a nod of agreement. There was a flare of lust in those blue eyes and Michael closed the distance between them, running his tongue over Dean's lower lip. It was such a brazen act and Michael's eyes sparkled when he pulled back.

Something inside of Dean cried out with joy at his Omega submitting to him so beautifully. He did not care if this was something new and different. Dean wanted it and he intended to take it. "Spread your legs for me," Dean growled. Michael complied and Dean was able push a third finger into Michael's hole. "Good boy." Michael almost preened under the praise. It sent a thrill through Dean to see Michael affected so. He spent long seconds thrusting his fingers in and out of his Omega's slick channel. The scent of it was so enticing. It still smelled like Michael but it was slightly different; the cinnamon that formed part of his usual scent was stronger now.

Eventually, Dean could not control himself any longer and he pulled his fingers free. Michael let out a pained gasp but Dean had already brought a finger to his own lips. The taste was more than he could have been expecting. It was sweet and smooth and Michael. His tongue darted out to lick at his other fingers. "So sweet. Good, sweet Omega. So good." He was mumbling around his fingers but he could not stop chasing the taste.

When his fingers were clean Dean pulled himself free from his Omega's arms. Michael hissed between his teeth but he did not fight when Dean turned him around, crowding him against one of the walls of the cave. Michael went willingly and when Dean lifted Michael's hands, bracing them against the rock, he left them there. Dean dropped to his knees again. He did not hesitate to part Michael's cheeks and this time it was his tongue that brushed the sensitive rim.

Michael let out a howl and arched his back. Dean took advantage of the offering and wrapped an arm around Michael's hips. He wanted more. He intended to stay where he was until the need was slaked. His tongue swept over the puckered hole again and again as Dean cleaned the slick away. He let the tip press against Michael's opening but then he would drag it away, pulling against his Omega's rim. Michael was letting out gasps of pleasure at each touch of Dean's tongue but he did not utter a word. "Did you touch yourself here?" Dean asked, curious. He pressed his tongue a little deeper this time.

Michael's voice was low and husky as he forced the words out. He seemed to be struggling to speak at all, "Yes, Alpha."

The thought of his Omega touching himself there made Dean's cock ache fiercely. He wanted to see that one day. "Did it feel good?"

"Yes, Alpha."

A stab of jealousy twisted Dean's gut. He knew it was ridiculous but it still inflamed him anyway. He slid a finger back inside of Michael and carefully sought that small area inside... Michael keened loudly and his knees were trembling again. Dean tightened his grip on his Omega's hips. "As good as this?" Dean swept his tongue around his finger.

Michael was almost sobbing, "No, no, no, never."

"Are you certain?"

Michael was nodding but his breath was hitching, "Yes, wanted you. I had to touch but I wanted you."

Dean had wanted him too. He had ached for his Omega to be in his arms so he could give him pleasure. He slid his finger free and pushed his tongue inside instead. A fresh slide of slick was waiting for him and Dean lapped at it eagerly. "You are my Omega," he insisted.

"Yes," Michael panted. "And you are my Alpha." Dean growled his agreement, sliding a hand around Michael's waist. He loved hearing his Omega claim him. It was even better than watching him submit.

"Good boy...such a good boy..." Dean mumbled between licks. He reached between Michael's legs blindly until his fingers wrapped around a hard cock. He stroked down and up, his hand sliding easily, covered in Michael's slick.

"Dean..." Michael almost was begging and Dean could not allow that. He sped his movements. He lapped at the sweet slick, tugging at Michael's rim each time. He flogged Michael's cock firmly, squeezing around the head each time. "Dean, Dean...Alpha...so good..." Dean's cock had not been touched yet but he felt his balls tighten. He hoped hearing his Omega like this would always inflame him so. "Alpha...more...harder...oh, please...please..."

Taking a risk, Dean unwrapped his arm from around Michael's waist. His Omega was shuddering but his knees still held him. Dean needed to please him. He felt as though his worth was somehow entangled with his ability to make his Omega happy.

He slid two fingers easily into Michael's wet hole, immediately searching for that magical spot. "Tell me, Omega. Tell me when..."

Michael's body tensed around Dean's fingers. More slick trickled down Dean's hand as Michael arched his back further, "There! Oh, yes, yes...there...Dean...oh God..."

Dean rubbed, feeling his own cock pulse. His belly was wet with his own need but Dean pushed it aside. He tightened his grip on Michael's cock just a little more. "Yes, I have you. Just feel it."

"Oh...oh...oh...oh..." He stroked and squeezed and tugged at Michael's hard, leaking cock, feeling more and more liquid coating his fingers.

"So good, such a good Omega..." Dean let his tongue dart out to lap at Michael's rim.

"Dean! So close...Oh my God..." Michael's cock twitched and Dean twisted his wrist just as he reached the head. "Oh God...Dean...Dean...Alpha...I..."

Warm liquid spilled from the end of Michael's cock and poured from his hole. His cock throbbed as Michael wailed his release. Dean's tongue flicked out to taste as Michael shuddered in his hands. He kept stroking as his Omega shuddered, spending himself against the wall of the cave. "Beautiful Omega..." he mumbled against Michael's skin.

XXX

Castiel opened his eyes and looked down to see the top of Dean's head. He was laying on his back on the fur cloaks with his Alpha hovering over his prone body. Castiel could hear a contented purring filling the cave and it did not take him long to realise it was coming from his own chest.

Dean was pressing wet, hard kisses to Castiel's belly and hips. The suction on his sensitive skin was delicious and he squirmed. His Alpha looked up at him and a small smile tugged at his lips before he returned to his task.

Castiel felt as though all his bones had melted. Dean had somehow drawn such pleasure from his body that he could not seem to move. He shifted his hips and realised that despite all his Alpha had done for him, Castiel still felt empty. He needed more than fingers. He needed his Alpha to knot him. He wanted Dean to do everything to him that he had always denied wanting.

The way Dean had looked at him had made Castiel's heart pound; when his Alpha had hesitated Castiel had felt such a thrill at the idea of willingly submitting. It was written into his body but Castiel had never wanted to before. Now, he thought he might understand it. He was only willing to submit to one Alpha, the Alpha who would never demand his submission.

Dean drew his attention completely when he felt a warm, wet mouth on his nipple. Castiel felt a wave of shame when he realised that he had lost himself to his pleasure without a thought for Dean. His Alpha had obviously carried him to the furs and laid him down. Then Dean had waited patiently while Castiel came back to himself.

"Alpha," Castiel reached out and threaded his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean looked up from his task, "You made me a promise." Dean just watched him, breathing heavily. His tongue flicked out again and brushed over Castiel's sensitive nipple. "You..." He gasped, "You promised me your knot."

Dean let out a low growl and surged upwards, claiming Castiel's mouth in a bruising kiss. He spread his legs and Dean settled perfectly. Castiel realised his cock had already hardened and now it rubbed beautifully against Dean's.

A tongue brushed against his lower lip. He opened his mouth easily and let his Alpha taste him. Dean's tongue slid against his and Castiel welcomed him, holding Dean's face gently in his hands. His heart ached oddly in his chest as their lips moved together. Dean was still tender, even lost to passion this way. His hands gripped Castiel's hip and shoulder but the pressure was perfect. Castiel felt wanted and owned and he loved it. He wanted his Alpha to touch him everywhere.

Dean broke the kiss and dragged his lips down Castiel's throat. "I want to bite you," Dean whispered, as though admitting a secret.

"I want you to," Castiel replied immediately.

The reaction was instantaneous. Dean's whole body seemed to tense under Castiel's hands, his face burrowed into Castiel's neck. He could feel Dean trembling but there was no mistaking the waves of arousal rolling off his Alpha. Castiel rubbed his hands up and down the bunched muscles, "I want you, Dean." The words came out as a promise. "I want you to be my Alpha. Always." Dean let out an odd sound. It was close to a growl but there was a whine threaded through it. His muscles loosened under Castiel's hands but he was shaking slightly.

"Omega..."

Yes, Castiel was an Omega and he was designed to know what his Alpha needed; he was designed to know what Dean needed and it somehow seemed to override everything else. "I will always want you, Dean. Alpha." Castiel stroked his hands through Dean's hair again. "Bite me, today. Put your teeth in my skin..."

"Omega..." Dean thrust his hips against Castiel again. Warm lips kissed his neck. He could feel Dean's tongue darting against his skin.

"You can do it again and again, until my next heat," Castiel promised. He wanted to give everything to Dean. He yearned to be owned, body and soul, by his Alpha. Dean's earlier words returned to plague him. It would be months before they could be mated now, no matter what happened. Castiel shoved the thought aside angrily. It did not matter. Castiel would not let it matter. He would not spend another heat without his Alpha.

Dean pressed their hips together and somehow the angle was perfect. Castiel let out a moan of pleasure as their cocks met and rubbed. "My Omega..." Dean breathed against Castiel's lips before capturing them in a brief kiss. Castiel blinked up at Dean and as he watched, Dean's eyes darkened. His Alpha's lips parted as his breathing grew heavier. Castiel felt a shiver of anticipation slide up his spine as more slick leaked out of him. Dean's body shifted above his and Castiel wanted to reach out and drag his Alpha closer.

Dean was looking at him as though he wanted to devour Castiel. Castiel was inclined to let him, "Tell me what you want, Alpha," he whispered. "Anything you want."

Dean growled low in his throat and pressed their lips together again, brely breaking away to breathe heavily, "Present, Omega." Castiel scrambled to obey. Although Dean had not used his Alpha voice, Castiel wanted nothing more than to do as he was asked. He actually pushed against Dean's shoulder in his haste to roll over to his belly.

Castiel almost braced himself on his hands and knees but changed his mind. Instead, he stretched his arms forward as far as he could and lowered his chest downwards. He arched his spine as he sat back on his spread heels. It felt better this way.

"My God," Dean breathed. A warm hand pressed between Castiel's shoulders, "So beautiful." The air felt cool against Castiel's exposed hole but Dean's touch soon replaced the chill. Two fingers slid in easily, so Dean added a third. "So ready, so wet. Are you wet for me, Omega?"

Dean's voice was low and it was doing things to Castiel. "Yes, only you. Always." He wanted desperately to reach between his own legs for his cock but he would not. His Alpha had told him to present and that was what he would do.

Dean spread his fingers slightly and Castiel whimpered in need. "Shh, I have you," Dean promised. "I will make you feel so good." There were no words. Dean pressed down inside of Castiel and there were no words. "You want my knot?"

"Yes!" Castiel gasped out. "Please, Alpha."

An arm forced itself around Castiel's belly and he was pulled backwards a few inches as Dean dragged him to where he wanted him. The fingers were pulled from him and Castiel wanted to whine at the loss. He did not have time to make a single sound before something soft and hard and smooth was breaching his hole. Dean pressed forwards slowly but without hesitation and Castiel felt his body stretching and shifting to accommodate his Alpha's girth.

It was a wonderful burn.

Dean's hips came to rest against Castiel's for less than a second before Dean was pulling back and shoving back in. There was a growling groan from somewhere behind him and then an arm pressed against Castiel's shoulders, holding him down. Castiel wanted to cry out at the pleasure. It should have felt constricting but Castiel just felt...held. Dean was surrounding him and it made him want to weep.

The thrusting shaft pressed and rubbed and stretched and pulled and drew cries of bliss from Castiel's throat. He had chosen the perfect position. Dean held him in place and he was able to give his body over to his Alpha completely. With his arms stretched out he could only move with Dean's thrusts.

His cock ached for attention but it was easy to ignore. The feeling of his Alpha inside of him was everything he had wanted for days and it was more than enough. The delicious friction was almost more than he could bear.

Dean abruptly dropped his weight forwards, covering Castiel's body with his own. "So good," Dean panted next to his ear. "Such a good Omega." Castiel whimpered at the praise. He felt his hole clamp down around Dean and knew the Alpha had noticed. "Should I tell you...how perfect you are?" Dean asked. "How perfect...you are...for me?"

Castiel was all but sobbing with need. He could not seem to control it. The feeling of Dean thrusting into him seemed almost too good. He needed it to go on forever but he was afraid he would die of the pleasure if it did. He could feel every inch of Dean's flesh sliding past his rim and into his body and it was too much. His cock was throbbing angrily and his balls were tight to his body. "Alpha..." he whimpered.

"Can you fall, Omega?" Dean whispered. "Can you fall...with just this? It would...make me so happy...if you could."

Castiel's felt every muscle in his body tense as his cock started to spill. It was his Alpha; his words, his cock, his skin covering Castiel's. Every time Dean thrust into him it pressed against that wonderful spot and more pleasure was milked from him. He felt his cock release ribbons of wet pleasure against the insides of his thighs. His body shook as it poured from him in uneven spurts.

Bright, white spots danced in front of Castiel's eyes as shocks racked his body. If he had not already been close to the floor he would have collapsed to it, but Dean was not finished with him. "Do you feel that?"

For a moment Castiel had trouble understanding what Dean's words meant. His brain was swimming in a sea of joyful pleasure. He had needed this so badly. Then he felt a tug between his legs and his tired cock twitched. "Yes..." Castiel muttered. "Please..." It was all he could manage before Dean was pressing forwards and forcing his swelling knot into Castiel's willing body. He was suddenly, deliciously full and stretched. Every muscle in his body trembled as though crying out in pleasure.

So badly. He had needed it so badly.

He realised that Dean was shaking too. His Alpha's weight laid heavy on his back. He could feel Dean's cock throbbing inside of him; painting his insides. "Oh...God in heaven..." Dean groaned in his ear. "So...tight...how..."

Castiel had no answers. His body was still trembling. He knew it would be very easy to slip away from consciousness. He wanted to let go of everything and sleep in his Alpha's arms. He sighed happily and shifted his hips. It was unconsciously done but his movement made Dean's breath shudder out, his cock throbbing again in Castiel's slick channel.

Before Castiel could apologise for his carelessness, Dean started to shift behind him. The warming weight disappeared from his back and Castiel let out a displeased whimper. "Hush," Dean whispered as he slid his other arm around Castiel's waist. "Come here."

Castiel opened his eyes, willing to do as his Alpha asked, but he did not need to do anything. Dean was already pulling him upright, hands pressed against Castiel's chest to lift him gently. Castiel wanted to help, he truly did. Unfortunately, his muscles seemed reluctant to let him.

He was not entirely sure what was happening but he let Dean move his body. It was only when warm skin pressed along his back again that Castiel realised he was sitting astride Dean's lap, his legs spread wide around his Alpha's. He gave a pleased groan and when he shifted his hips this time it was deliberate. "Ohhhhhh...such a good Omega."

Castiel let the praise wash over him like a caress. It felt wonderful, pleasing his Alpha this way. He let his head drop backwards to rest on Dean's shoulder. He felt and heard Dean bury his face in the side of Castiel's neck. "When I claim you," Dean whispered, trailing his lips over Castiel's neck. "I will put my teeth here." Dean bit down gently on the spot where Castiel's neck met his shoulder. He wanted it. He wanted to wear Dean's mating bite proudly where anyone could see it. It would be deep and his Alpha would bite it and kiss it whenever he bedded Castiel.

"Yes, Alpha..." Castiel whimpered. The hands that had been holding him up slid across his body. One swept up over Castiel's chest and sought sensitive nipples with nimble fingers. The other moved down and wrapped around his half-hard cock. Castiel gasped in surprise but he was responding already; he could do nothing else. "I...I..."

"Beautiful Omega," Dean said as he licked Castiel's neck. "Once more, I think." Castiel felt Dean tense his powerful thighs and the knot still lodged in his body shifted. There would be no thrusting while they were tied but Castiel found he did not need it.

His cock was hard again from Dean's strong fingers. His nipples were singing from gentle touches and firm pinches. There was a knot lodged firmly inside of him. It was pressing into that spot that most cared for pressure every time Dean's circled his hips. When Castiel felt teeth graze his neck, he knew his cock was throbbing in Dean's hand. "Yes...do it...do it...Alpha, I need you to..." Castiel pleaded.

Dean let out a choked moan and there was another pulse of warmth inside of Castiel. Dean paused his movements for a second but then stroked Castiel's cock again. "Dangerous..." He panted. "No one should see."

Castiel knew that. It was the truth. They were still in a precarious position and so much could still go wrong. As his Alpha ground his hips upwards and slid a slick hand over Castiel's cock, he could not find it in himself to care. "God...please..."

"I will not," Dean whispered against his skin. Castiel whimpered as Dean's mouth slid away from his neck. "Not there."

Sharp teeth cut into the muscle of Castiel's arm, just below the shoulder and Castiel howled. His whole body spasmed violently as his cock spilled in Dean's hand. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. His body was wrung dry but Dean was forcing more and more from it. Dean kept stroking as Castiel collapsed completely against him.

He could not move, he could barely think. The only thing he was aware of was Dean. Dean, who had Castiel wrapped up in his strong arms. Dean, who was breathing heavily and dragging his tongue across the bite on Castiel's arm. Dean, whose cock was throbbing inside of Castiel again.

Nothing else intruded on his thoughts. Nothing else seemed very important.

XXX

Chapter Text

Castiel awoke feeling warm and sated and utterly spent. His heat had been long and hard. There had been hours when Castiel had been sure he would never be satisfied again. As it turned out, all he needed was his Alpha.

Dean was curled around his back. Castiel wanted to press himself closer but there was no space between them. Instead, he reached for one of Dean's hands where it rested on his belly. He held it in both of his, tangling their fingers together gently. "You're awake," Dean said. He pressed a kiss to the back to Castiel's neck.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Not long," Dean said and Castiel could hear the smile in his voice. He did not understand it until Dean shifted his hips. They were still tied, although Castiel could tell it would not be for much longer.

"I see," he replied with a chuckle.

In the past, before he had met Dean, when mating with an Alpha was an abstract concept, Castiel had had reservations about the idea of being knotted. He had expected it to happen to him and it did not appall him, at least not until he discovered Uriel was to be the one to do it, but it did not sound like something he would enjoy either. Now, as Dean settled ever closer to his back, Castiel understood how wrong he had been. "This is not usual for me," Dean said against his nape.

"I should hope not." Castiel had a feeling that Dean was referring to something more specific but it was far too tempting a statement. He smiled to himself when Dean chuckled against his skin. He would like to more his Alpha laugh a lot more.

Dean growled but it was playful, "I meant the knot."

"Yes, you said something similar last time. What did you mean?" Castiel had meant to ask, but in the heat of the moment it had slipped his mind.

Dean chuckled again, "Most Alphas only have a knot during their rut or their mate's heat." The words hung between them. Castiel was not Dean's mate yet, but perhaps it was something to do with them being True Mates? Castiel wondered if that would explain it. "You seem to know little about Alphas, my Omega."

Castiel just smiled again even though he knew Dean could not see his face. "Do I need to know about any others?" He asked as sincerely as he could manage.

Dean gave that playful growl again and Castiel had to laugh. "I like it when you do that," Dean said when he had managed to calm down.

"Do what?"

Dean nuzzled behind Castiel's ear, breathing deeply. "Tease me. Challenge me."

Dean's warm breath was very distracting but Castiel fought to focus on the conversation. "Am I not supposed to?"

"I have no idea," Dean confessed. "But please never stop."

"I had no plans." A bubble of happiness swelled inside Castiel's chest. It was partly Dean's gentle mocking but partly the fact that Dean was willing to do it in the first place. He had never imagined something like that existing between himself and his mate; an easy intimacy. He had never spoken this way to anyone, excepting Anna. With Dean he could not seem to stop himself. Dean scented him again and then rubbed his own cheek on Castiel's throat. It was soothing to feel his Alpha touching him and he relaxed into it for long minutes. He traced nonsensical patterns over the back of Dean's hands with his finger tips.

As the minutes passed, however, Castiel became aware of a change in Dean's scent. He was still learning every nuance of it but the thread of anxiety was not difficult to discern. He twisted his head and shoulders round to look at Dean. It was awkward but he needed to see his Alpha's face. The green eyes were shadowed and under Castiel's gaze, his Alpha's cheeks coloured. "Is something wrong?" Castiel asked.

Dean hesitated, looking truly unsure for the first time since Castiel had met him. "Did I..." Dean closed his mouth with a snap as though he regretted opening it in the first place.

Castiel felt his heart give a hard pound. Seeing his Alpha unhappy made him ache. He reached up and stroked a finger over Dean's jaw. "Is it so bad?"

A very calming scent was slowly filling the cave and Castiel knew it was coming from him. In the past, he had always had to make a conscious decision to change his scent that way; to comfort people who needed it. Anna had once lain sick for a whole week and Castiel had stayed by her side. His scent had been the only thing that could keep her calm through her fever.

Now, Castiel could see Dean visibly relaxing, though there was still some tension in his face, "Did I overstep when I told you to..."

Suddenly, it dawned on Castiel what Dean was talking about; or rather, finding it so hard to talk about. The way he had held Castiel down, the way he had told Castiel to...

It was so strange to him, to see an Alpha so vulnerable. Most Alphas he knew seemed convinced of their own superiority and their right to anything and everything they wanted. Dean was so different. Castiel smiled at his Alpha, "No. I liked that very much."

Dean's shoulders relaxed and a lazy smile appeared on his face, "So did I. But you can always tell me to stop. "

Multiple feelings raced through Castiel. Dean's apparently unconscious assumption that they would do this many times sent a thrill through him. He could almost still feel Dean's weight across his shoulders. The feeling had been almost beyond words. That he had somehow ended up with a True Mate who cared enough to actually talk to him... Gratitude welled up inside his chest. "If I do not want to obey you, you will know it. I promise."

"I can live with that," Dean said with an easy grin. He wrapped his arms around Castiel more securely, breathing deeply. The movement caused their bodies to shift slightly and Castiel let out a low groan as Dean's cock slipped free from inside of him.

He expected to feel differently somehow, perhaps relief that he could move freely if he wanted to. Instead, a hollow, empty feeling formed. It was such an abrupt change that it made his stomach swoop. He had not realised it, but part of the feeling of contentment had been coming from the feeling of Dean inside of him. His Alpha pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Now I have to ask, is something wrong?" Dean asked.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. He felt foolish for how he was feeling but apparently Dean could smell it. "No," Castiel said, uncertain. He had no desire to lie to Dean, but he was finding it difficult to articulate what he was experiencing. His body was tired and aching. There was no immediate desire to have Dean take him again but at the same time he felt...bereft.

"Are you sure?" Dean mumbled against his ear. Castiel was surprised and a little indignant to hear a smile in his Alpha's voice. Before he could decide whether or not to confront the issue, Dean was shifting an arm, drawing it back from around Castiel's belly, trailing long fingers across his skin. The fingers slid over his backside and gently parted his cheeks. The touch against his hole was soft, stroking light circles until two fingers pressed inside of him. Castiel let out an involuntary moan. "Is that better?"

It was better, a lot better. Dean did not move or stroke inside of him but it was still just what Castiel had needed. The empty feeling receded as more kisses were pressed against his skin. "Apparently, you know more of Omegas than I do of Alphas," he observed.

Dean shifted behind him and Castiel noticed slight changes to his Alpha's scent. Unless he was mistaken, Dean was embarrassed. "That may be...is true." Castiel actually found it amusing; the way Dean seemed to change his mind mid-sentence and abandon the attempt at equivocation. "Apologies," he said quietly. Castiel detected some regret mixed in with the embarrassment.

He turned his shoulders again so he could look at Dean properly, "None are necessary." He meant it too. Dean could not have known that he had a True Mate, let alone that they would ever get the chance to meet.

Dean seemed to believe him. Soft kisses were pressed to his skin and Castiel closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of Dean's lips on his neck. "I was wrong about some things though," Dean said finally.

It took Castiel a moment to remember what they had been discussing. He swallowed hard but his voice still sounded too low to him, "Such as?"

"I thought Omegas were in heat for longer. I was surprised to see you."

Castiel felt a twinge of guilt. At least he had had the comfort of knowing when his torment would end. He simply had not thought of asking Anna to tell Dean how long the heat would last. "Female Omegas have longer heats. For me, they last three days and nights. I should have asked Anna to..."

"Hush," Dean said quietly. "No matter." Castiel wanted to argue that it did matter but Dean's fingers were shifting inside of him. It succeeded in distracting him. "It should be better now." The fingers slipped free and Castiel waited for the feeling to come back; the bereft, empty feeling.

Instead, only the lingering effects of their coupling remained and Castiel's body seemed happily settled. He sighed and wriggled in Dean's arms until he was free enough to turn over. He wanted to be able to see Dean's face; the man had the most beautiful eyes Castiel had ever seen. "Why did I feel that way?" Castiel asked.

Dean hesitated and then took a breath, "As far as I understand, it is because of the knot, though some Omegas always enjoy the feeling regardless of being knotted. Your body is designed to accept it but afterwards it takes some time to..." Dean frowned, in search of the right phrase. "Return to normal."

Castiel nodded. It made a kind of sense though he had not previously considered it. "Did you read that somewhere?"
Dean actually blushed and looked away from Castiel's eyes, "An Omega I helped through a heat explained it to me that way."

"Is that what you call it in Briton?" Castiel asked with a smile. He found Dean's embarrassment very endearing. "You were helping her through a heat?"

Dean's eyes snapped back to his. "I was, I swear it. It was my duty."

"I do not understand," Castiel admitted. Dean was obviously sincere.

"Lisa is a widow with a young son and no desire to find a new mate. She is a very capable woman but when she experiences her heat she needs assistance," Dean explained, as though it was both logical and obvious.

"And you..." Castiel tried to be delicate, "Provide that?"

Dean was smiling now, nodding in understanding. "Clearly, this is not a custom our two lands share." He explained, "My father is the Lord and ordinarily he would be the one to go to Lisa. However, he passed that duty to me almost a year ago. It is something most of the tribes of Briton do for the well-being of their Omegas. Otherwise they could find themselves mated unwillingly. Fortunately, there are only three widows in our town and Lisa is the only one still fertile."

Castiel wanted to think about what Dean was saying. He thought it might be interesting under the right circumstances. Now, however, all he could think of was Dean carrying out his duty by... "It is your duty to bed her during her heat?" Castiel asked, quietly.

"Yes, I..." Dean froze and looked down at Castiel with a frown on his face. It only took a second for Castiel to realise a low growl had come out of his own chest. It was similar to the sound he had made when Anna had tried to lie down next to Dean the day they had found him.

Dean's mouth dropped open in surprise but Castiel could not make the noise stop. Instead, his hands moved from their resting place on Dean's waist to the Alpha's chest. Castiel watched as his finger tips bit into the skin slightly.

He knew he should be embarrassed that he was growling at his Alpha but he did not care. He looked at his hands on Dean's chest and imagined that they were the hands of the Omega, Lisa. Perhaps those hands would be smaller and softer and perhaps Dean would prefer...

Dean was murmuring against his temple, stroking gentle fingers through his hair. Castiel found himself wondering when Dean had moved to touch him. "Only while I am unmated, my Omega. I will never want anyone but you. Never again. I belong to you."

Castiel fought to calm his breathing. Dean kept repeating the words against his ear, his hair, his neck. They were comforting but they took time to penetrate the veil of anger that had surrounded him at the thought of Dean lying with another Omega. He could not bear it.

Dean was his; he belonged to Castiel. Just the thought of having to share Dean with another made him feel ill. He would not, could not, do that. "You..." Castiel struggled to speak, "You are mine?" He hated the question in his tone.

"Always," Dean promised, pressing light kisses to his face. The scent of his Alpha was soothing. He pressed himself as close to Dean as he could, wriggling forwards until he was draped over the man's chest. Dean did not speak, he just held Castiel for long minutes as he calmed himself.

As his breathing evened he found himself feeling ashamed. He supposed it was actually a good tradition that they had. Omegas in heat needed an Alpha and there was no delicate way to avoid that reality. His reaction had been entirely personal. As long as Dean was not the one who had to actually provide the assistance. He rested his cheek against his Alpha's chest as his body relaxed. "If you are not to go to the Omega, then who will?" Castiel asked.

"My father will probably take up the duty again or he will appoint a trusted man," Dean grunted as though he did not think it worthy of consideration. It pleased Castiel immensely; he did not care for the thought that Dean might actually want to help the unknown woman in such a way. "Maybe Sammy will be appointed when he is older." Dean's fingers began to play with the soft curls of Castiel's hair where it lay against the Alpha's chest. Castiel found it very relaxing.

"What if there are pups?" He asked. Everyone knew Omegas were very fertile during their heat.

"Well, we try to avoid that," Dean said, almost muttering the words. Castiel tried not to smile at Dean's discomfort in discussing the topic. His Alpha had been inside of his body only moments ago; now he blushed. "Should there be a pup, they are provided for, of course. Either with the mother or within the castle if the mother is unable to keep the child." Dean was still playing with his hair.

An unpleasant thought occurred to Castiel, "Have you ever...?" He blurted out the question before he considered whether he truly wanted the answer. Fortunately, Dean did not let him suffer.

"No. I have never fathered a pup." A wave of relief washed over him. Castiel was sure he would be able to love any child of Dean's but a small, selfish part of him wanted to be the only one to bear Dean's children. Though, of course, they had yet to discuss what they intended to do. He was considering bringing up the topic when Dean spoke again, "There are many things I have not done in the past. I have never lain with a a male Omega. Or a man at all, for that matter."

"Oh?" Castiel was pleased but he tried to keep his voice even.

"Yes. And...I have never knotted anyone before," Dean admitted.

The thrill of pleasure Castiel felt spiked sharply. It would not have mattered to him, truly, but he could not deny the satisfaction he felt at the thought. "Even during your rut?"

He felt, rather than saw, Dean shake his head, "I have never had a partner for a rut."

Castiel could understand that, though he admired Dean's forbearance in never taking someone to his bed. "Too intimate?" He guessed.

"Exactly."

He raised his head and rested it on his hand so he could look at Dean. Green eyes peered at him, a small smile on his Alpha's lips. A thrill of longing went through him at the idea of his Alpha, flushed and needy and desperate for the relief Castiel's body could offer. He would give himself over to Dean completely; he would let his Alpha do whatever he pleased and Castiel would relish it. "I would like to see that," Castiel whispered. His body pulsed with longing and Dean's nostrils flared as the scent of slick and the Alpha's own fluids filled the air.

"Yes," he breathed.

Castiel smiled and tried to ignore the flush creeping over his skin. If they continued to give in to all their urges, they might never leave this cave. "Would you tell me about your home?" Castiel asked after a pause, both because he wanted to change the subject and because he was genuinely curious.

Dean blinked in surprise but allowed the change easily enough. "The town is big but I know everyone who lives there by name. Sammy knows their names, birthdays and probably their favorite type of food too. It is called D'Or. It is the name of the town and the castle we live in."

Castiel took a moment to process those words. Now that he was no longer imagining Dean with another Omega, he thought back to their earlier conversation more calmly. He had referred to his father as a Lord and now he mentioned that they lived in a castle. Somehow it had never occurred to him that Dean might be someone of import but now he knew he must accept that fact. It concerned him.

He had imagined that they could disappear together into a life of obscurity but that sounded more difficult now. They could conceal his identity, perhaps for a long time, but it would always represent a blade above them and above Dean's family too.

Dean, unaware of Castiel's churning thoughts, continued, "We have good relationships with the other Barons for the most part. Though there are several I despise. Sammy tells me I must learn to smile when I would rather growl."

Castiel pushed aside any disquieting thoughts as he took in the broad smile on Dean's face. It made him want to smile too. "You always look very happy when you talk about your brother," he commented.

Dean frowned abruptly, as though surprised to find he was grinning. After a moment, Dean shrugged, "He makes me happy. He is bright boy and would make a much better heir today than I ever will."

"Surely, that is not true." Castiel wanted to comfort Dean but was surprised to realise there was no distress apparent in his scent.

"It is," Dean insisted, entirely without rancor. As far as Castiel could discern, Dean was simply speaking the truth as he saw it. "Sammy is only twelve and un-presented but I already know it as truth."

"Why?" Since Dean did not seem to be upset, Castiel allowed himself to be curious.

"I do not care for the politics. The need for diplomacy irritates me. I understand it is necessary but I despise it. I believe my temper is...simpler. It is my duty and I will carry it out, but I would not choose it."

Castiel found himself pleased by Dean's words. He seemed...humble. Even if his Alpha was correct in everything he said of himself, humility was a good quality for a leader. Pride was always a weakness.

Sometimes the unlikeliest candidates made good leaders as his study of Roman history had taught him. "You will do well," Castiel assured him.

Green eyes smiled into blue. Whether he agreed or not, Dean seemed to like hearing the words. "Perhaps, if Sam presents as Alpha, something can be done," he sighed.

"Is being an Alpha a prerequisite?" He tried not to let any bitterness creep into his tone but Dean seemed to hear it anyway.

Dean lifted a hand and stroked his fingers through Castiel's hair soothingly, "Not to me. My mother was far stronger than my father and she was the Omega." Dean's smile at the mention of his mother faded almost immediately. His face seemed to darken before Castiel's eyes. "But some of the other Barons would refuse to give credence to anything else. All are Alphas."

"I see." He understood completely. Omegas were always desired, almost revered but were not looked to for their military or political insights. It seemed foolish to him but when, during his younger years, he had attempted to give his father his opinion on one subject or another, he had always been rebuffed. The fact that he had been correct in his assessments most of the time did not seem to matter.

"But, if Sammy is an Alpha..." Dean said, trailing off with a hopeful tone to his voice. "I serve as my father's second now and I would be happy to do that for Sammy." The Alpha's cheeks flushed a little. "I like to fight."

Castiel did not see why he should be embarrassed about that. There was great honor in fighting for your home and family. "You are a warrior," he declared, making his pride in the statement obvious.

Dean actually coloured more but he looked somewhat flattered. "I suppose so."

Castiel liked looking at Dean like this. He seemed younger and softer somehow. It made Castiel want to tease him again. "I hope you are good at it," he said.

"I am," Dean replied simply.

"And I hope that is more than simple Alpha arrogance." Castiel smiled to soften the words and then pressed brief kiss to Dean's lips. "Given how we met."

Dean's mouth actually dropped open. "How can I defend myself on that charge? I do not remember the circumstances. I was poisoned," he said indignantly.

Castiel nodded, "Yes and I hope you will avoid that happening again in the future."

For a long moment Dean just gaped, but then he let out a chuckle that turned into a full laugh. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and pulled him closer. He went easily until Dean could bury his face in Castiel's neck. "Well, given the source of the request, I suppose I shall have to."

"Better, thank..." Castiel began but he was interrupted when Dean pressed their mouths together. The kiss distracted him and he happily let his Alpha explore. Kissing Dean felt completely different to the way Castiel had imagined. Granted, he had never assumed he would be kissed by his True Mate, but Castiel had never considered the intimacy of such an act. When Dean's tongue stroked against his, Castiel shivered at the touch and the taste and everything it made him feel. "Dean..."

Dean hummed quietly in response, almost purring. He slid a hand into Castiel's hair and tugged lightly at the strands, guiding the Omega where he wanted him. He pressed gentle kisses to the edge of Castiel's mouth and then began a trail under his jaw. Dean let out a groan as he moved lower. Castiel clung to his Alpha, draping himself over the warm body beneath him. He had thought his body was exhausted for the forseeable future but Dean was proving that was not true. His head was starting to swim with the scent of Alpha and arousal. His own body was helpless against it.

Castiel's legs parted easily so he could rest a knee of either side of Dean's hips. The scent of fresh slick filled the cave and Dean's body twitched beneath him. He had never imagined mounting an Alpha in this way but Castiel found it oddly thrilling. He could feel Dean's cock, hard and ready between his legs, pressing against his own. He wanted to feel more of it and he shifted his hips, rubbing them together.

Dean hissed loudly and his hands flew to grip Castiel's hips. "Again, Omega?"

"Yes," Castiel breathed, "Yes, please."

XXX

"Come away with me." The plea slipped out as Dean's Omega was circling his hips slowly, working more pleasure from the knot lodged inside of his body. Michael, with his eyes closed, sated and tired and moving only for Dean's pleasure, was beautiful. Every inch of Dean's skin was tingling. His brain did not seem to be working. His Omega's movements had been slow and tentative at the beginning as he moved on Dean's cock; clearly unsure how to proceed. But he had learned quickly.

Dean had never seen anything as erotic as his Omega, naked and sweating and writhing above him. It had robbed him of his hesitation, clearly. Now, Michael was blinking at him in surprise, his blue eyes sparkling. Dean felt his stomach swoop unpleasantly, but it was too late to take back the words now. "I had intended to ask that question more delicately." Dean began, "I understand that..."

"Yes." Michael interrupted him.

"Yes?" Dean repeated. He had not dared to hope it would be so simple.

His Omega was nodding, "Yes, I will come away with you."

Dean let out a sound somewhere between a laugh, a cough and, embarrassingly, a sob. He yanked Michael to his chest, holding him tightly as he pressed kisses to his Omega's soft lips. "When? When shall we leave?" Dean muttered, between kisses. His Omega was going to stay with him, was going to come home with him. Dean could introduce Michael to Sammy.

He felt an overwhelming urge to just lie the man down and kiss every inch of skin on his body. Since they were still tied together, Dean made do with Michael's throat. He wanted to put his teeth there...

"You must recover fully."

It took Dean a few seconds to realise his Omega had spoken. When he understood what was being said, Dean just laughed. "I am well. We could leave now." Dean did not know why that had not occurred to him immediately. There was no reason at all to delay. Why should Michael ever return to the castle? They could just find, or steal, a boat and start the trip now. Wherever they landed, Dean would know where help could be found.

Michael was shaking his head, "Dean, I know about poisons. It will be days before you should travel." Dean was intending to contradict him, but Michael continued. "Do you know how to sail?"

Dean waved that off. "Yes, it has been many years since I have done so, but I remember well." Lord Robert's lands were close to the sea and he both swam and sailed there in his youth.

Dean felt fingers tangle in his hair and tug gently. He wanted to keep licking and sucking at his Omega's skin, but Dean obeyed the pressure and let himself be drawn away. Michael was gazing at him, "I have never sailed in my life. I will be completely dependent on your knowledge. If you were to suffer a relapse on the trip, we would all die."

That gave Dean pause. It would not be a very long trip, but it would not be short either. Dean would have to stay alert and awake and ensure their safety. With a twinge of annoyance, he remembered the dizziness he had experienced when he walked around the cave for too long a time. It was possible his Omega was correct about his needing more time to recover. He would not have hesitated to take the chance if he was alone but if they all... Dean paused, "All?"

"I would like for Anna to accompany us."

Dean had not considered that Anna might want to come with them but it made sense. Her devotion to Michael was obvious. He had been far from his best self in front of the woman but he hoped to redeem himself eventually. This seemed like a good time to begin. "Do you think she would board a boat with me on it? I have not behaved well to her," Dean admitted with a grin.

"She will come with me," his Omega smiled back. Then the smile faded and a frown took it's place. Michael stared at him, hard. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Dean felt a flutter of disquiet in his chest. Michael had agreed to come with him so readily, the idea that he might change his mind was horrible. "Yes, absolutely," Dean insisted.

Still, Michael looked uncomfortable, "There are things you should know about me."

Dean wanted to laugh out loud. If Michael's only concern was that Dean might change his own mind then there was no concern at all. "Tell me, then. Or wait and tell me later. Nothing you could say will make a difference. I want you. I want you to come away from here with me. We can discuss everything else later. There are things you should know about me too."

Apparently, his Omega had some kind of special talent for making Dean painfully honest. He was actually considered somewhat withdrawn by his own people. Around Michael however, the words just poured from him.

Michael did not seem to mind. He smiled and pressed his lips to Dean's once more in a brief kiss. "I must speak with Anna and I will see about a boat."

Dean's heart leapt in his chest. Elation ran through him and Dean was sure he could feel it moving under his skin. He had never been this happy in his whole life. He pulled Michael back into another kiss but it was not enough. They were still tied and it was not enough. He wanted to crawl inside of Michael's scent; he wanted to stay until he forgot his own name. "Omega..." Michael let out a quiet moan into the kiss and Dean was moving them. He wrapped an arm around his Omega's hips and held him tightly, shifting them over so he could cover Michael's body. It felt better this way, for now at least. His own weight kept them as close as he could get.

Michael wrapped his arms and legs around Dean's body, "That feels so, so good."

Dean swallowed down a whimper. It did feel good. It was...almost over-whelming how good it felt. Dean felt odd in that moment. The previous days seemed to be washing over him like waves. He kept seeing his Omega in front of him, beneath him, above him. The way he had cried out in pleasure, the way he had tasted... Dean was finding it hard to focus on anything but the thoughts kept intruding on the moment. There was just Michael, this beautiful Omega who was made for him. "I will love you. I will love you so much." The words were pouring out again but Michael was already pressing kisses to Dean's temple.

"I will love you, too."

He felt a surge of relief at Michael's understanding. It was so hard to articulate what he was feeling. They barely knew each other and he felt it would somehow cheapen what they would have together if he called it love now. But, he knew that they would have it.

When he first laid eyes on Michael a torch had been lit. The flames were beginning to lick the wood and soon it would be completely ablaze. "We will not be apart again," Dean promised. Whether the promise was to himself or to Michael he did not know.

"Once we leave Ireland, never again. If you choose it."

"I have already chosen," Dean said, resolutely. "I will love you."

XXX

Chapter Text

"I have to tell him who I am," Castiel said firmly as Anna helped him into a dry tunic. He was still cold after his most recent sea-bathing.

Anna's hands paused in her movements, "My prince..."

"No, Anna. I have to."

She sighed heavily, "And when he learns your father ordered the attack that killed his mother?"

Castiel flinched internally, "He will understand."

"You are so sure?"

"I will take the chance." And he would, truly. Dean was not like any other Alpha he had ever known. He actually seemed to like who Castiel was or what he knew so far. He was kind and he made Castiel smile. Perhaps this Alpha would be able to understand that he was not a mere facet of his father; that he was a person who sometimes despised the King as much as any man from Briton could.

Anna was shaking her head, "He might hurt you when he..."

That was almost funny but he kept his smile gentle. He even put a little effort into making his scent calming for the Beta. "Anna, you know how much I love you so please try to listen to me. Dean will not hurt me. I ask you to have faith on that point. He is my True Mate and I do not believe he could ever hurt me.

"I want you to release me from my promise so I can tell him the truth. I am going to leave Ireland with Dean as soon as he is able to travel and I can find us a boat that will not be missed immediately. I need to tell him my real name before I do any of this."

Anna raised her chin stubbornly, "If I refuse?"

Castiel shrugged, a little helplessly, "I will still tell him but I will have broken an oath. Worse, I will have broken an oath to you. I would have told him today but I wanted to at least ask you."

Anna dropped her eyes for a second, clearly torn by indecision, "Perhaps you should tell him when you reach Briton?" She suggested.

Castiel did not see how that could possibly be a better alternative but he smiled at her indulgently, "I would not trap him so. He is not...an unknown person. His father is one of the Barons and Dean is the eldest son. We can not simply disappear as I had planned. There will be considerable risk to everyone."

Anna looked at him again, this time with just a hint of a challenge in her eyes. "So, you think this might change his mind?"

Castiel thought it was possible, but he could not honestly imagine it. The truth was, he wanted to be honest with Dean before he let the man commit any further to a future. He wanted to confess, not be caught out. Since that seemed a little too private to confide in Anna, he simply said, "I choose to ask before, not beg forgiveness afterwards."

Anna sank heavily onto the bench in Castiel's dressing room. "Very well. You may tell him."

Her worried eyes tugged at Castiel's heart. He loved Anna for worrying about him. It was her chief occupation and Castiel found it hard to resent her when she did it out of love. He sat down next to her and slipped his hand into hers. "Gratitude."

Anna smiled at him, "This will truly happen, then."

Castiel squeezed her fingers gently in his, "Yes."

"Are you happy, my prince?"

He felt the smile stretch over his face and it felt somehow unnatural. He could not honestly remember the last time he had wanted to smile like this, "I will be, very soon I believe."

Anna nodded her acceptance, though she had turned a little pale. "And you will still take me with you?"

"Only if you choose it."

Anna actually managed to laugh at that, "Why would I stay here without you?" She raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Castiel's.

"There will be risk," Castiel warned again, as though Anna was unaware of the fact.

"I know it." They sat together in silence; there was nothing more to say.

Their peace was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was one of his father's soldiers, summoning Castiel to see the King. After he departed, Anna got to her feet with a sigh. "I will see if I can find a boat. It should not be difficult."

"I think Dean will be ready to travel in a week."

"Very well," Anna nodded. "We should go to your father. Appearances must be maintained." Castiel agreed with her wholeheartedly and they hurried to make themselves as presentable as possible.

As they made their way down the hall, Castiel could feel the weight of the castle bearing down on him. Leaving Dean had been harder than last time and Castiel had not thought that was possible. Washing off the scent of his Alpha and what they had done together had made him want to weep. It felt so wrong. Castiel comforted himself that he would not have to do it for very much longer.

His stomach gave an unpleasant swoop as he imagined having to confess his identity to Dean. He had wanted to do it today, so very much. Only his promise to Anna had stopped him, which had, no doubt, been the woman's plan. Given all her years of loyalty to him, Castiel felt he had no choice but to at least ask her before he was forced to break the promise.

He had not been lying, though. If Anna had refused to released him from his vow, Castiel would have broken it anyway. He never should have agreed to lie to Dean in the first place, but he had. The only thing to do now was confess and hope that his Alpha was understand. Castiel was almost sure that he would.

Anna's words about the death of Dean's mother had shaken him slightly but it would not stop him. Dean deserved the truth and Castiel would give it to him so he could decide for himself whether he thought Castiel was worth the trouble that could potentially follow.

He was quite prepared to spend his life in hiding if that was necessary. He could change his hair and his name and spend his life quietly at Dean's side. He would bear Dean's children and do whatever he could to help his Alpha in his reluctant duty as Lord of D'Or. It would be enough for him.

Castiel inclined his head to the solider at the door, expecting to be told to wait. Instead the man immediately reached for the door handle, "The King will see you now."

Disguising his surprise, Castiel simply nodded and entered the room. It was full of courtiers. Some would be paying obeisance to the King, others would be there to advise on specific matters. It was the norm. Castiel did not meet anyone's eyes. Instead he swept through the room and the people there made way for him, hastily. He stopped and gave his father a deep bow. "Your Majesty," He turned to Rowena and dropped his head and shoulders slightly, showing respect. "Grandmother," he said politely.

Rowena wrinkled her nose at him, but did not speak. Castiel was not sure if her annoyance was with him directly or it she was angry at something else. Perhaps King Crowley had decided to invite the whole town to the wedding and she had not been able to dissuade him. The King turned his eyes on Castiel with a small quirk of his lips, "Ah, yes. Are you well, son?"

"I am," Castiel confirmed. "What is your Majesty's pleasure?"

Crowley regarded him for a second and then turned his attention to the room at large. "Get out," he commanded. The King did not raise his voice; there was no need for him to do so. The courtiers almost scurried in their haste to obey, reminding Castiel of so many mice fleeing from a loud noise. Only Rowena and his father's bodyguards remained. He sighed silently and braced himself. If this meeting did not concern the wedding, then it probably concerned Uriel directly. "You too, mother." Now, Castiel was surprised. Rowena would want to be included in any conversation that made him uncomfortable. As though confirming his suspicions, Rowena opened her mouth to argue but the King cut her off before she could begin. "That was not a request. I have no stomach for a fight today. I wish to speak to my son, alone."

Rowena's cheeks flushed with anger but she maintained her dignity as she got to her feet. "Very well," she said as she swept towards the doors and out of the room.

Anna hesitated and hovered next to Castiel, "Your Majesty, should I...?"

King Crowley waved a hand to dismiss her question, "You may stay. I highly doubt there is any reason to prohibit your presence."

Since Castiel would repeat anything said in this room to Anna later, he could not fault the King's logic. "Yes, your Majesty," Anna said.

"My son," King Crowley got to his feet with a sigh. "There are some things I would like to discuss with you about the wedding."

Castiel felt his heart sink but carefully kept his expression serene. Anna was correct, there was every reason in the world to maintain all appearances. "Of course, father. Is there any word of my betrothed?"

"Overdue, in fact," replied the King. "He should return any day now."

"Will I be meeting him?"

"Of course, when the boats are sighted, we will ready ourselves to receive him."

It had never been necessary in the past but as Uriel was now to become one of their family, officially, it would be the proper form. Castiel wondered if there was a chance that Uriel's return would be delayed and he could avoid seeing the odious man ever again.

The King stepped down from the dais and approached Castiel. "I have arranged for a new tutor to come in a month and I would like you to read his letters." He held out a bundle of parchment which Castiel took willingly. He vaguely wondered what new skill his father had decided he should learn. It would not matter, of course. Castiel would be gone in far less than a month.

"Certainly, father," he said calmly.

The King smiled at him, clearly pleased. "And I would like to know who has been fucking you?" The smile remained on the King's face as he peered at Castiel. The silence seemed to stretch between them as Castiel tried to think of something, anything to say. The King finally broke the silence, leaning forward close to Castiel's face. "Are you going to say, 'Certainly, father', again?"

Castiel felt as though the very ground beneath him had melted away. Fingers reached to grip his arm but he did not immediately realise who was touching him. It did not matter. A sick feeling was over-riding everything else. He did not know what the King saw on his face at that moment, but he doubted it could be anything good. Still, Castiel had to try. "I...I do not..."

The King stopped smiling and an angry snarl appeared instead. "Kindly do not trouble yourself with denials." If Castiel had not been sinking into a sea of fear and panic, he might have been impressed. The scent of Alpha anger mixed with something even less pleasant was filling the room. His father had clearly been able to hide it until now, when he was choosing not to. He wanted to intimidate Castiel and unfortunately, it was working.

Unable to contemplate telling his father the truth, Castiel tried once again. "I do not know what could have led you to such a conclusion." That much was true at least. He had been so careful.

"Do you not?" The King might be angry at that moment, but there was no doubt that he took some pleasure from seeing Castiel pale in front of him. Anna's fingers were gripping his arm tightly, but he could not bring himself to look at her. She had warned him... "The early arrival of your heat would not have been enough proof alone, I admit. You were also careful to remove any scent trace of this man," King Crowley sounded grudgingly impressed. "However, when your body began leaking slick laced with the scent of Alpha, well..." Castiel wanted to vomit. He had not even considered that. He had not noticed at the time and clearly, neither had Anna. The King sneered at him. "Additionally, you smell different. You smell...happy, satiated, satisfied. Whoever this man is, he must be fucking you well. I must allow you to have reasonable taste, I suppose."

Castiel hated hearing the King describe his time with Dean in such a coarse fashion. He had never used the word fuck, in his life as he knew it was what Alphas and even Betas said about the whores they visited. He wanted to flinch away but Castiel lacked even that luxury. He tried to force his brain to work more quickly. All he could think of was his father's soldiers. Perhaps they were already on their way to the cave, perhaps they had Dean already, perhaps they had already... The thought of Dean's green eyes closed forever because of Castiel's carelessness brought him dangerously close to passing out.

However, his father had asked a question, had he not? He had not had Dean's broken body flung before Castiel in a show of rage and power. Instead King Crowley had asked, quite calmly infact, who the Alpha was. If his father did not know then there was still hope. In fact, it made an odd sort of sense. If the King suspected that his son was bedding a man from Briton, the son and heir of one of the Lords no less, Castiel suspected that they would be having a very different type of conversation.

He swallowed and tried to force the darkness out of his vision. The King was watching him closely. Castiel had nothing to offer here and would risk nothing. He dropped his shoulders and bowed his head. He stared at his shoes until his had taken three deep breaths. When he looked up again, the King was still watching him. "Father..." The word came out as a plea.

"Yes?" The King asked with a raised eyebrow; it was clearly a challenge.

"What do you want of me?" Castiel asked. He was vaguely proud that his voice did not shake. He could not challenge the King now; he would not even attempt to deny it further. There was obviously no point. All he could do now was hope that Dean did indeed still live and that it was within his, Castiel's power to keep the Alpha that way.

The King made his way slowly to the dais and sat, glaring down at Castiel imperiously. "Castiel, I am proposing we attempt to reach an accord here and now."

The smile of his father's face boded nothing good but Castiel schooled his own expression into one of calm. "How would we do that?"

"Well, I think we should begin..." The King considered, but Castiel could see the mockery in it very clearly. "With you pleading for this man's life, perhaps?"

His father was obviously taunting him, but Castiel could not find it in himself to care. He would plead for Dean's life. He would do anything if it meant that Dean would live; a small part of him still clung to the hope that he could find a way out of this, for Dean if not for himself. "I will, if you would have it so." The King looked down at him as though studying an insect. The scent of anger still filled Castiel's nose but he did not drop his eyes. It was important that the King understood that his son was sincere.

His earlier thoughts of leaving Ireland and a happy future with Dean seemed to be sliding away from him. They had been his ideal but they did not matter in this moment. He should have known that something would get in their way. All that mattered now was making sure that Dean was able to walk away from this and return to his home.

Castiel's heart seemed to pause in it's beating as he imagined his poor Alpha being wrenched from the cave and hauled before the King. Dean would learn the truth of Castiel certainly, but not in the way that the Omega had hoped. Then King Crowley would learn the truth of Dean and nothing would save his Alpha.

Even as these thoughts crawled through his mind like poison, Castiel kept his expression smooth. He could not panic now. He had to find a through this, a way for Dean. The King was still staring at him. "You know, Castiel, I have always been rather impressed with you. I know you assume my pride is only for myself," the King smirked at him. "But it is not completely so. I do have a certain pride in you. Even now, when you are cornered, I can barely detect a trace of it in your scent. You are able to appear so calm. You have a strength to you that I can not help but admire. You are proud for an Omega. However, you would beg for this man's life, would you not?"

"I would." Castiel admitted. There was no use in denying Dean's importance. The King would know he would not take the risks he had if his Alpha meant nothing.

"Good," said his father, appearing deeply satisfied by Castiel's answer. "Then perhaps I should tell you that I do not know who this man is? And I would suggest that I do not need to know."

This time it was relief that nearly brought Castiel to his knees. Even though he had suspected as much, hearing it confirmed gave life to a small shoot of hope inside his chest. Perhaps there was still a chance then, a chance to ensure Dean's safety. If he could survive this meeting... "How can that be?" He asked.

The King eyes continued to bore in Castiel's. He refused to look away, even when every instinct in his body told him to avert his gaze. Castiel waited for his father's verdict to be delivered. "You will be confined to the castle until Uriel's return. You will wait for him and greet him. You will marry him immediately even though the mating must be delayed. You will never see your mysterious Alpha again. You will stand by Uriel's side and you will smile while you do it."

Castiel had expected nothing less. "Yes, father," he agreed immediately.

The King raised a finger in warning, "I would suggest that you consider this carefully. Should you violate our agreement there will be consequences."

"Of course." Castiel's mind was already racing with possibilities. If he could just ensure that Dean was able to escape, then Castiel could bide his time until he was able to follow.

"I mean it," the King growled, as though he could hear Castiel's treacherous thoughts. "You may, on occasion, impress me but I have no use for a dog that cannot be brought to heel. Your only worth lies in what you can accomplish through marriage and breeding. Should you choose to squander this worth..."

"Father, I assure you..." Castiel began. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. King Crowley was on his feet and moving forwards in less than a second. He was not as tall as his son, but Castiel still shivered at the rage apparent on his father's face.

"Do not dare to assure me of anything!" The King snarled and advanced further. Castiel could feel warm breath against his skin and he wanted to retreat. He wanted to run, preferably to Dean, and hide until he forgot this horrible, sick feeling. Instead he braced himself and waited. His father seemed to be controlling his anger with some difficulty now and when he spoke, there was venom and ice in his voice. "You will never see this man again. You will return to your chambers and remain there until I send for you.

"Should you violate these terms I will make it my business to discover the identity of your Alpha. I will find him. I will take him to his home and strap him down while I order my soldiers to burn the place to the ground. I will have his family brought before him." The smile returned to the King's face; this time it was a leer that made the flesh of Castiel's neck tingle. "You will watch too. You will watch him watch me as I remove their eyes, as I cut their tongues from their mouths, as I let my soldiers rape them. Perhaps I will let my soldiers rape them to death. It may take a day or two but I will not begrudge the time.

"You are my legacy, Castiel. If you take that from me, if you run, you will leave me with nothing to do except track you down and destroy anything that cares for you. You can not run from me. I am the King." His father's words had somehow turned into a growl by the end.

Despite Castiel's horror and a sickening feeling a sadness, it was not Dean he thought of in that moment, it was the unknown Sammy; the little brother than Dean spoke of with such love and pride and joy. He could see it, clear as glass: his father's soldiers holding down a small boy with green eyes as he was raped until he cried and bled and bled and eventually died.

Castiel felt his heart thump unevenly in his chest. There was no question now of what to do. He had been living in a dream these last days. He should have known that there was no way for this to work out. He tried to find it in himself to be grateful for the short time he had had with Dean but the sharp spike of pain Castiel felt at the thought of never seeing his Alpha again was too strong. Perhaps in time he would be grateful.

"Father," Castiel began. His voice cracked a little but he did not try to hide it. He suspected his father would enjoy it and he dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes too. "I will do as you say, you have my word."

"Good." Crowley growled. "I would suggest that you spend your time until Uriel's return arranging a grand wedding."

"I will, father," he promised. "But I would like to make a request." Castiel added quickly, before the King could issue more orders.

There was a crushing silence but Castiel forced himself to wait. "Oh, would you? And that would be?"

He raised his eyes but tried to keep his head as low as possible. "I would ask that you let Anna deliver a letter to the Alpha." Castiel carefully avoided referring to the Alpha as 'his'. He did not want to think of what his father could do with the information that Dean was his True Mate. Something to neither of their benefits, certainly.

King Crowley was still glaring at Castiel; the scent of Alpha anger was still heavy in the room but it was easing now that Castiel had promised his compliance. Now, his father smirked at him. "Is there a reason I should permit that?"

"You mean to bargain my compliance for the Alpha's safety. If I can not tell him that he must stay away, his safety is not guaranteed."

"You think he would risk coming here to find you?" The King sounded both doubtful and curious to hear the answer to the question.

Castiel cursed himself but he knew he had little choice. If he could not find a way to communicate with Dean, then it was only a matter of time until his Alpha came looking for him. Castiel decided to take a calculated risk. "He is an honorable man and he does not know who I truly am. He thinks I work in the castle."

His father stared at him for long seconds and Castiel waited, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. Then to his surprise, King Crowley laughed out loud. "So, you decided to go slumming, did you?" Castiel did not answer. He was happy to let his father think he had taken a commoner to bed. It was far, far safer that way. "Very well, Anna may deliver your letter. Are you sure your Alpha can read it?"

Castiel ignored the bait, "If he cannot, Anna will read it to him."

The King turned on his heel and returned to his throne. Castiel knew how much his father liked sitting up there. He had had it placed on a dais so he could always look down on everyone else. "You may go. Lucifer is waiting outside. He will escort you to your chambers and...ensure your safety until Uriel's return."

"Gratitude for your consideration," Castiel said with no trace of sarcasm in his tone. The fact that Lucifer was the one to watch him was an unpleasant addition but certainly not worth arguing about.

He looked up to find his father staring at him; a contemplative look on his face. "Remember what I said, my son."

"I will." Castiel vowed. His father waved a hand, dismissing him and Castiel backed out of the room.

As the door shut behind him, Castiel saw Lucifer waiting with a look on his face that was somehow bored and aggressive at the same time. He fell into step behind Castiel without a word.

Small fingers brushed against the back of his hand and Castiel looked down at Anna. Her beautiful face was streaked with tears that Castiel had not heard her shed. He had almost forgotten her presence by his side as used to it as he was. She had not said a word during the whole confrontation.

Castiel wished he was able to smile for her, to somehow let her know he held no ill will towards her for being completely correct. She had tried to warn him and he had not listened. He had selfishly placed Dean's life and the life of Dean's whole family at risk. He quickened his steps as he made his way towards his chambers.

He could feel himself coming apart slowly, like a piece of cloth tugged again and again until the edges frayed and it split into pieces. The thought of never seeing Dean again, of knowing that his Alpha would have to leave here without him was too much. It hurt on a level Castiel had not known he could experience. The only thing keeping him upright was the knowledge that he was not finished yet. There was still something he had to do, to ensure Dean's safety.

Anna opened the door for him and Castiel stepped inside, grateful when she shut it firmly on Lucifer. It gave him a chance to let out a ragged breath that was almost a sob. Holding it inside of his chest had hurt. Anna rushed to his side, wrapping her small arms around him tightly. Castiel wanted to cry out that it was wrong. He loved Anna, but he wanted his Alpha. He wanted Dean's arms wrapped around him. "I have to..." Castiel managed to rasp.

"My prince, you must calm yourself. Please, just try to breathe." Castiel had not even realised he was gasping. "Just breathe with me. In and out. Slowly."

He tried hard to focus on the feel of her small chest against his and the motion of her breathing. It would not do to faint. He still needed to focus. Once Anna had left, then Castiel could do whatever he wanted but not yet. "I need to write the letter, Anna. You need to take it now."

"Soon, my prince. Once you are well, I will..."

"No, Anna. Now."

XXX

Dean had complained when Michael declared that he had to return to the castle. In reality, Dean did not mind too much. Of course, he would have preferred to keep the Omega by his side, but there were things that had to be done. Once those things were done, Michael would never have to leave again. It made it worth it.

He was so happy at how easily his Omega had agreed to come with him that it was easy for Dean to just return to the furs once Michael had left. He was tired and achy and it was nice to bury his face in the scent of his Omega and pretend they were still together.

He only needed to be awake when Michael was with him. The rest of the time Dean intended to try and sleep when he was not eating. He wanted to recover as quickly as he could to hasten their departure together.

Dean awoke as the sun was hanging low in the sky. He had not expected to be able to sleep for so long. He glanced around the cave, half-hoping Michael might have returned while he slept but he knew it was a forlorn hope. The noise would have woken him, if the scent of his Omega did not.

Feeling a slight sinking sensation in his belly, Dean got to his feet and poked around his meager supplies of food. Anna had brought a basket filled with supplies the day after Michael's heat had begun. He'd had hard bread, salted fish and meat and a few apples but that had been days ago. Most useful of all, she had brought him a small pot for cooking.

Dean had been able to find fresh water with relative ease. A small stream just inside the tree line had provided all he needed. He boiled it before he drank and so far there had been no trouble. He had even fashioned a small spear to catch his own fish but it was almost not worth it. There were cockles and muscles all over the beach and it was far easier to boil them for food than it was to gut and clean a fish with only sharp rocks to aid him.

He considered going to fetch more as it was never a good idea to eat shellfish more than a few hours old but he did not feel all that hungry. Instead, he picked up the last of the bread and broke it into pieces small enough to eat easily.

Dean chewed slowly; the smile stretching his face made it difficult to focus on food but he gave it his best effort. He wanted to be strong enough to leave as soon as possible.

Movement outside of the cave drew Dean's attention abruptly. He almost hurt his neck with the speed he turned to look for the source of the disturbance. Tossing the bread aside, Dean threw himself to his feet and hurried to the entrance. He knew he should be cautious but it was so difficult to seriously consider the potential problems. Instead he reached for one of the boards of wood to help clear the way inside.

Anna's scent hit his nose before he had even managed to pull a single board aside. He was momentarily disappointed. He wanted to see his Omega but he could tell that Anna was alone. Dean would know the scent of Michael anywhere and there was no fresh trace of it coming in from outside.

In fact, as Dean moved the first board aside and reached for the second, the acrid scent of fear crept into his nostrils. His eyes peered out into the gathering gloom. He could see Anna's face now and the pinched looked around her mouth caused his heart to pound unpleasantly, "What is it?" He demanded, now all but throwing the wooden planks aside. "Where is Michael?"

Anna looked at him hesitantly and Dean was horrified to discern a trace of grief mixed in with her scent. He had reached to grasp her arms before he knew what he was doing. Icy cold fear was trickling down his spine. There was a growl coming out of his mouth but Dean knew he would not be capable of forming words at this moment. Something had happened to his Omega and it caused a blackness to form inside of Dean.

"He is well," Anna managed to say. She had not flinched in the face of Dean's obvious anger and had he been in his right mind, he might have found that impressive.

As it was, all he could think of was how starkly Anna's words contrasted with her scent. She said Michael was well, but it offered little comfort. "I said, where?" Dean asked, a little more calmly.

"He is in his quarters," Anna reached into the neckline of her dress and drew out a piece of parchment. "He sent you this."

Dean let go of Anna and snatched the offered parchment. He could smell the discontent rolling off his own skin but Anna's sadness was somehow more pungent. It seemed to him a terrible omen; his suspicions were confirmed as he read.

-Alpha,

Do not blame Anna for the content of this letter, I beg of you. She is not at fault. I know you will be surprised by what you read here and I would have preferred to say these things in person. Unfortunately, I cannot and I cannot leave Ireland with you.
This is my home and here I will remain.
I have never confided this to you but now, I must. I am engaged, willingly and happily to be mated and married to a man from the court. He is a good Alpha and I trust that he will spend his life doing everything in his power to make me happy.
You know that I wanted you; I do not attempt to deny our connection but I am choosing to rise above it.
We have nothing to offer each other except a life spent concealing the truth from all. You must try to see that.
I will not come to you again. You must leave Ireland as soon as possible. I hope you believe that I would be greatly saddened should any harm come to you on my account.
Forget me, it was a dream.

Dean read Michael's letter and then he read it again. As his eyes poured over the words for a third time, he still could not bring himself to believe he was understanding them correctly. No one, but no one, walked away from their True Mate; the bond was too strong from the very beginning. Everyone knew as much. Yet, Dean stood in the center of the cave with a trembling Beta before him, his Omega declaring that he was choosing another over Dean.

The blackness that had begun to form inside of Dean when Anna arrived seemed to grow. It was a pit of sorrow and the edges were steep. His fingers tightened on the parchment, crushing it between his fingers. "There is a village two miles north of here," Anna whispered. "You can steal a small boat there with ease. If you leave now, night will have fallen when you reach the town. It will be easier that way."

"Easier?" Dean repeated the word and a rasping noise laced his voice. Nothing would ever be easy again. His limbs felt heavy, as though moving them would take a monumental effort and yet, Dean did not care all that much. What did it matter if he stood here for an hour? A day? Perhaps, even longer. If Anna reported to Michael that Dean had refused to leave, then surely the Omega would have to return eventually.

There was pain coursing through him but Dean was only barely aware of it. Instead, all he could think of was his Omega; the colour of his eyes, the shape of his lips, the taste of him. It could not be possible that he would never know any of that again. It was not acceptable.

Dean tried to steady his breathing and think rationally. It made no sense. Only today, Michael had lain in Dean's arms and been eager to leave Ireland with him; he had agreed before Dean was even waiting for an answer.

Things could change quickly in this world but this, this was too quickly. Dean refused to believe that Michael could choose to walk away from this willingly. He knew what he had felt and he found that he could not accept that Michael did not feel it too.

He took deep breaths as he tried to force his mind to focus. The scents of the cave were strong and distracting. Dean could still smell Michael everywhere, even on his own skin. The Omega who had lain with him in this cave had been happy, contented. The same man could not have written a letter like the one Dean now held; not unless something had intervened.

His eyes focused on Anna properly for the first time since he had read the letter. She was watching him, a combination of fear and trepidation on her face. Still though, through it all there was a thread of sadness that Dean could not miss. It was a pungent and definite. "Why do you smell of grief?" Dean demanded suddenly.

Anna blinked in surprise. She had clearly not been expecting the question. "I was not aware that I did."

"You do." Dean said shortly. His own pain and anger were obvious in his voice and his scent but he took no pains to mask it. He wanted her to know how he felt at this moment; he wanted her to tell Michael. "There is fear, too. I understand that. You are afraid of me, perhaps? But why grief and sadness?" It made no sense. Anna would not care for his pain; not truly. If Michael were in pain however, she would care about that.

If Michael had truly made the decision on his own to separate from Dean, she would have nothing to grieve. "I..." Anna's mouth opened and closed more than once but she could not seem to find the words.

Dean brandished the parchment, waving it under Anna's nose. It was strange. He wanted to burn it, but he also never wanted to let it go. "Why has Michael sent me this letter?"

Anna stared at him for long seconds and Dean tried to fathom what might be happening in her mind. Eventually, she straightened her shoulders and met his eyes. There was some strength in her, Dean did not doubt. "He is to be married, my Lord."

Dean waved that away; it was unimportant. He did not want to hear Anna reiterate the lies in Michael's letter. "No. Tell me the truth."

"Yes." Anna insisted. She did not even flinch when Dean began to growl again. He was somewhat ashamed of his behavior, yet again, but he knew better than to think he could control it. Anna was still staring at him, refusing to drop her eyes. "He was promised before you and he ever met."

It might be entirely true, but as far as Dean was concerned, it was also entirely irrelevant. "He is MINE!" Dean insisted.

Anna held her hands up in a placating gesture. Dean did not think he would find Anna so infuriating had they met under normal circumstances but now... "Please..." Anna begged.

Dean did not want to hear it, "Take me to him."

Anna was shaking her head before Dean had finished speaking, "Would you take everything from him? If you try to reach him, that is what you will do."

He knew that. It had been their plan after all, and Michael had not seemed to care about anything he might be leaving behind. Dean tried again to think of way he could stay in Ireland and not have it lead to tragedy for all concerned. He could not see a path but he tried to ignore the reality for a moment, "I must stay if he can not come."

Anna took a step towards him, "What of your family, your home? My Lord told me you have a brother. Is he nothing?"

Hearing Anna mention Sammy, even without speaking his name, was unwelcome. Thinking of his younger brother, almost his pup... Well, it was the one thing he could not ignore. "Do not speak of..."

Anna seemed to sense she had found a weakness in Dean's armour and did not hesitate to take advantage of it. "I seek only to remind you that you have something waiting for you. Have you considered that your family will have received word of your death by now?"

He had, in the most abstract sense. He had imagined his father and brother's joy when he returned but he had given little consideration to the agonies they would be suffering at the thought that they had lost Dean. "I cannot leave here without him," Dean argued.

"You must. There is no choice."

"I need him!" Dean insisted. Anna must be a fool if she could not see it.

"That does not matter!" Anna insisted. Her voice had risen almost to a shriek. Dean blinked in surprise at her anger. Until this point, Anna had been sad, cowed, afraid, and stubborn when Dean had seen her. Anger was different and new. Coloured spots appeared on her cheekbones. She was glaring at him now, his eyes wide. Dean could smell her frustration. "You still cannot see it? The truth? Michael tells me you are clever so I need to speak to Dean now, not the Alpha. You must listen to me. You have two choices, stay and die or flee and live. Your Omega has the same choice in reverse. He has made it."

Dean opened his mouth and closed it as he sought the words. He could not remember the last time someone other than his extended family had summoned the courage to speak to him that way. He was not certain anyone ever had. He tried to refute Anna's words but her logic was difficult to deny.

Anna took advantage of his hesitation. "You must leave tonight."

XXX

Chapter Text

Dean could see D'Or from where he was. It was still several hours’ ride but for the first time, Dean could see home from the top of the hill where he watered his horse. He wished the sight made him happier.

He wanted to see his father and brother, of course he did. He knew what would happen. If his family and indeed the whole town had been told that Dean had died, there was sure to be a celebration on his return. Everyone would be happy to see him. They would embrace and kiss him; they would toast his good health and, hopefully, long life.

It would be a happy time.

Then, Dean knew, he would go to bed and sleep and then awaken and... everything would return to normal. Perhaps it would take a day or two more but it would happen eventually. Everything would be the same as it was before he had led his men into battle against Uriel; everything except Dean himself.

He mounted up again and urged his horse forwards, taking the wending path that would eventually lead to D'Or.

The whole journey back had been one long fight. The crossing had been smooth enough. Anna had told him it would be easy to steal a boat from the village under cover of night and she had been quite correct. The wind had been with him for most of it and the tide had helped him to shore.

The difficulties had lain with Dean himself. He had almost turned back so many times he had lost count. Once, he had turned the boat around and begun tacking against the wind, trying to get back to the Irish coastline. Only Anna's words, which seemed to be playing on a loop in his mind, convinced him to return to his original course.

He struggled to find some way around the obstacles placed between him and his...the Omega, but he simply could not. The odds had been stacked heavily against them from the moment they met. Dean had accepted it as a fact and had been prepared to get through it with the Omega by his side, but Michael's insistence on Dean's solo departure was something Dean could not overcome.

He did not truly believe that the Omega wanted him to go. Dean might not have known the other man long, but he knew Michael had felt the same way Dean had. He suspected that something had happened between Michael leaving the cave and Anna arriving that had changed Michael's mind. Dean briefly considered that someone had discovered their meetings but it made no sense. If they had been discovered, surely Michael would have been punished; he would not have been permitted to write letters to his lover.

His horse was well-rested and he could urge her to a canter for the rest of the journey quite safely but Dean held back. There was a weight inside of him that he was beginning to suspect he would carry for the rest of his life. He wanted to believe that one day he would forget Michael but he knew it was not true. How was he to continue his life now? How was he supposed to pretend that nothing had changed for him?

Dean swayed with the motion of the horse. He tried to focus on Sammy. His brother was the only light he could see before him. If it had not been for his brother, Dean knew he would never have been able to get on the boat in the first place. He would not have been able to land the boat and find a horse to steal. He would not have bothered to scavenge for food.

Without his Omega, it was hard to find things that mattered; truly mattered. But there was still Sammy.

He was going home simply because there was nowhere else to go.

The familiar sights and smells of D’Or did little to comfort him. Had things been different, Dean might have been amused when the first farmer he encountered almost collapsed at the sight of him. Instead, Dean raised a hand in acknowledgement and smiled as best he could, continuing his way.

He wondered if the man thought Dean was a ghost; he certainly felt like one as he passed into the town. There was excitement around him now. Other people were noticing him and calling out greetings and shouting out with happiness. He smiled and nodded and waved but it did not seem to touch him. He was removed from everything.

Even the sight of his father, hurrying through the gathered throng of people only registered as something that should make him happy rather than something that truly did.

Understanding what was expected of him, Dean dismounted and made his way forward to meet his father. John of Winchester looked pale and drawn. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes; his whole face had the look of one who had not slept for a long time. When they met, the older man stared hard at his eldest son, spots of colour appearing over his cheekbones.

As Dean automatically took a knee before his father, John let out a shuddering breath. Dean looked up at his father and was surprised to see John leaning down to him. Strong hands gripped Dean’s shoulders and he was being hauled to his feet and pulled against a strong chest. Dean was surprised but he let himself be pulled into a tight embrace. “You were…we thought you were dead.” John’s voice did not shake but Dean could not miss the feeling in the words.

His father had not held Dean like this in many years, not since before his mother died. It should have felt good. He let himself be held and tried to return the embrace. “I am delivered, Father.”

John leaned back to look at Dean, opening his mouth to speak when they were both shaken by a sudden impact. Dean looked down to see a head of brown hair attached to the body that had run into them. Big, wet eyes were peering up at him and the scent of Sammy filled his nose. “Dean…”

For the first time, Dean experienced a tingle of genuine feeling. There was something that mattered, Sammy mattered. Dean released his father and bent down to his brother. Sammy was getting big now and one day, Dean suspected, his brother would be bigger than him. Today however, Dean was still able to haul Sammy off the ground and into his arms.

Sammy did not protest or fight. When the boy had turned ten he seemed to decide he was too old to be held in this way. Now, he went easily into Dean’s arms and wrapped his hands around his big brother’s neck, sobbing as he breathed deeply. “You frightened me, Dean.”

XXX

Across the sea…

It had been two days since Castiel had seen Dean when Anna came to his room radiating distress. It was enough to make him open his eyes for the first time since he had lain down. Even in his semi-catatonic state, Castiel could not ignore such obvious pain coming from the only person left to him that he was certain he loved.

“Anna, what is it?” His voice came out as a croak; he had not felt the need to speak much recently.

“My…” Anna let out a sob but controlled herself quickly, “My prince, I have just been given word…”

“What is it?” Castiel sat up straight in his chair, his stomach clenched painfully as he braced himself. “They have not caught him, have they?” It seemed too cruel to be true.

Anna shook her head quickly, “No, my prince.”

Castiel took a shuddering breath and thanked God. Dean was safe and that was all that mattered. He could not imagine anything that could upset him too much if that was true. “Then, what is it?”

Anna twisted her fingers together in a way that looked almost painful. She was chewing her lip; a sure sign of her distress. Castiel wanted to rise and go to her. He wanted to comfort her but he did not think he wanted it enough to move. His bed was better. Instead he just waited for Anna to answer him, hating himself for his selfishness in the face of her pain. “The soldiers have returned from the attack on York.”

If Castiel had been able to feel surprised at that moment, he might have reacted to her words. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow. “I understood I was to meet Uriel off the boat?” He had expected word from his father when his presence was required. There had been nothing as far as he knew.

Anna looked, if anything, more distressed. Castiel wondered if perhaps she was here to tell him that a date had been set for his wedding to Uriel. He tried to decide if he would be upset by the news and found that he did not know. It mattered less than he would have expected. If Uriel hurt him, Castiel doubted he would care. Uriel or another Alpha…it would make no difference if the Alpha was not Dean.

Anna came towards him and perched on the edge of his bed. She tended to avoid such informal actions as a rule but now, she reached out and took one of his hands in both of hers. “I should say the survivors have returned, my prince. They were attacked on the road back to the coast. All but three were executed.”

There was an odd sensation in his belly at her words. He almost did not dare to hope that… “What of Uriel, Anna?”

“He was killed during the battle.” Castiel let out a breath in a huff of air. There was a tingle of relief at the thought but it was buried beneath something else, something his mind was slow to acknowledge. Uriel being gone from the world could be nothing but good and that was the truth, however… “There is more, my prince.”

“Is there?” Castiel asked,

“They reported that Uriel killed the man who killed him.” Anna hesitated again before she spat the words out. “Apparently, the British fighters only lost one man, a man poisoned by Uriel, a man who was given a funeral boat…”

And it all fitted together in a way that made Castiel feel as though he was about to vomit. “Dean.”

“Dean of Winchester, my prince.”

Castiel did not hear the rest of her words, they mattered little. His fingers skimmed over the bite on his arm; the bite only Castiel and Dean knew was there. The pain that lanced through him was powerful but it seemed to be happening outside of himself.

Uriel was dead at the hand of his Alpha. Uriel had been his father’s most trusted and valuable weapon. He feared his father; Castiel would have been foolish not to. However, his fear of Uriel had played a large part in his decision to stay.

He tried to ask himself honestly whether he would have chosen differently if he had known of Uriel’s death.

Then he tried to tell himself it did not matter. The choice was made. Dean was gone.

XXX

Briton…

Dean sat by the river, watching the water flow over smooth stones. The cold chill in the air penetrated his clothes with ease but he barely felt it. There was very little he truly felt now, just an apathy that crept over him at least once a day. Usually it lasted a few hours, sometimes it did not lift all day. Today was one of those days.

He had awoken with the sun as always and done the things he absolutely needed to do. He had spoken with the stable master and helped Sammy carry food and wood down to the main hall for the townspeople. The weather was starting to grow colder and more people now went there to take advantage of the warmth.

Once his tasks were completed, Sammy had run off declaring that he had a lesson in archery to attend. Dean had smiled and waved his brother off cheerfully. Once the young boy was out a sight however, Dean stopped waving and retreated silently to his current hiding spot by the river.

Dean’s predictions had turned out to be almost entirely accurate. There had been a feast the night that Dean returned to D’Or. A pig was slaughtered and prepared, wine was drunk by the vat and the festivities ended up lasting nearly three days.

Dean would be lying if he tried to claim that his father’s obvious pleasure at seeing him again was not gratifying. Given that he had spent his entire life trying to live up to John of Winchester’s example, it touched something inside of Dean to know that he was indeed valued. Unfortunately, his father’s delight at discovering his eldest son lived, was not enough to overcome the pain that now dwelt inside of Dean.

Dean could have accepted that truth if he was not currently facing a worse one.

It was Sammy. Sammy mattered, Sammy was the only thing that had enabled Dean to put one foot ahead of the other as he made his journey home from Ireland. When Dean had held his younger brother on his return, and breathed in the sweet, still-childish scent of the boy, he had felt a modicum of peace. Unfortunately, that peace had not lasted. As the weeks passed, it drifted away.

Seeing his brother happy still lightened the darkness in Dean’s heart but it was getting harder and harder to pretend that it was enough. He found himself thinking long into the future not matter how hard he tried not to. He saw days stretched out ahead of him, days without his Omega by his side.

Sammy would grow up and, if he was lucky, find a mate who made him happy. Sammy would become Samuel of Winchester; he would move on.

The thought had never bothered Dean before. Once or twice he had even wondered who would join their family when Sammy made his eventual choice but now, all he could see was a future where his brother no longer needed him. When that happened, Dean did not know what he would do. Sammy kept him going but only for now.

Dean sighed heavily and leant back against a tree. The thoughts in his head were circular; pointless and relentless questions with no answers he could find. It made him feel tired and worn out, something he had never felt before.

“How long have you been sitting here?”

Dean looked up to see Jo standing a few feet away from him. He had taken some pains to hide his retreat to this spot but Jo had one of the keenest noses he had even encountered, even for an Alpha. He was not surprised she had been able to follow his trail, or rather, he would not have been surprised if he had known that she was even in D’Or. “Not long. When did you arrive? Is your mother here?”

“Yes, and we arrived less than an hour ago,” Jo sat down beside him with a sigh. The silence that fell between them was comfortable or Dean thought it was, until his companion started to squirm a little, next to him. Someone else might not have noticed as Jo’s movements were small. If they had noticed, someone else might have attributed her wriggling as an attempt to find a more comfortable seating position. Dean, however, knew better. Jo only squirmed when she was on edge; when she was preparing to do something that made her nervous or excited. He eyed her curiously until she noticed his gaze. Dean did not look away and Jo frowned in annoyance. It sometimes bothered her that Dean could read her so easily. On the other hand, it could be useful. Dean did not attempt to fill the pregnant silence, instead he waited. Jo huffed but her lips quirked upwards just slightly. “What are you doing?” She asked, finally.

Dean waved a hand indicating the babbling water, “Just enjoying the day.” He tried to keep his tone as light as possible though judging by the expression on Jo’s face, she was not convinced. Dean did not understand it. He had been so careful to cover his distress, his sadness, the gaping, bleeding hole in his chest that would not stop hurting. He wanted to insist that everything was fine but lying to Jo was never easy.

He had only seen her twice since his return a month previously. Once the news had reached Jo and her mother, they had both hastened to D’Or as quickly as they could. Jo had ridden through the doors of the town as though the devil was on her heels, Ellen close behind. A servant had almost been trampled as Jo hurtled across the courtyard and hurled herself at Dean. It had been long minutes before she could be persuaded to let go.

They were able to stay only a few days but had returned less than two weeks later. Their presence had been a welcome distraction to Dean and he would be pleased to see her again now but for a sinking feeling in his stomach. The way Jo was staring at him was making him feel uncomfortable.

In the past, there had been very little he would not have confided in her. Now, there was something he did not want her to know. Dean had told no one about Michael and he had no plans to do so in the future. He did not want to talk about his Omega; the Omega he had not been able to make his. Dean knew it would be far too painful.

It was Dean’s turn to squirm. Jo was still watching him closely. He broke under the weight of her gaze. “Is something wrong?”

“Not with me.” Jo raised her eyebrows as though daring Dean to deny that anything was wrong. Dean tried to decide if there was anything he could say that would not further convince her that there was something amiss. Nothing came to mind, so Dean sat there in silence. “Dean, you must talk to someone. It need not be me, but you must.”

“Jo…” He managed to say her name but then struggled for more words. He did not care for the thought of lying to Jo. Keeping the truth secret was not the same as lying, not to Dean. In any case, there seemed little point. Jo obviously knew that something was wrong. “What would you like me to say?”

“Tell me why?”

“Why?”

“Why you are in so much pain.”

Her voice broke on the last word and if Dean had still been capable of truly feeling things, he knew his heart would have broken with it. “Jo,” Dean reached for her hand and tangled their fingers together gently. He knew she wanted to help him and he was sorry that he could not explain why there was no way she could. “I wish I could bear to speak of it, but I know that I cannot.”

“Did something happen to you while you were…away?”

“I appreciate the delicate phrasing.”

Jo did not smile, “All you told us was that you woke up on a beach and came home.”

There was a long silence and Dean realized that for the first time in their lives, he was letting Jo down. She was worried about him and wanted to help. He could not, would not, let her. All he had left of his Omega was his grief; he did not want to share it. “Has anyone else noticed?” He asked finally.

Jo sighed again and Dean could not bring himself to meet her eyes. “My mother noticed. Lord Robert thinks you are not yourself. Samuel…” Jo trailed off and Dean braced himself for the worst. “He sees it but I think he ignores it, hoping it will pass.”

Dean wanted to assure her that it would but again, that would mean he had to lie. “Did you come all the way here just to talk to me?”

Jo frowned at Dean’s obvious attempt to change the subject. For a moment, Dean thought that Jo was going to refuse to be diverted. Then her expression shifted; he could see her giving up, for now at least. “I would have come to see you, of course. This time, however, we have come because we received a message.

This time, if was Dean’s turn to frown, “My father said nothing about it.”

“The message was not from John. It was from King Fergus Crowley, of Ireland.”

Chapter Text

“Are we sure that this offer is legitimate?” Lord Robert asked, after reading the parchment for the third time. He was sneering at the letter as though it had done him a great personal wrong.

“Yes, I believe so, though it is impossible to be certain.” John’s face was impassive, but Dean felt as though he could hear the wheels and cogs turning inside his father’s head. John’s only concession to concern lay in the tension in his shoulders; Dean knew that his father allowed himself to show that much because there were only four people in the room. Other than his own children, John trusted Lord Robert and Lady Ellen more than anyone else in the world.

Lady Ellen was taking even fewer pains to hide her irritation. She sank into a chair and sighed heavily, “Surely, no one will accept this. The true purpose is too transparent.”

“If even one of the barons accepts, others will have no choice,” John said.

Lord Robert let out an angry noise; it was somewhere between a snort and a growl. “Lord Alistair will certainly accept. The opportunity to aggrandize himself is not something he will ignore.”

“Leaving others to oppose him or allow him to simply claim the spoils,” John confirmed with a nod.

There was a beat of silence as they all considered that. “Then we must oppose him,” Lady Ellen agreed, thought she sounded anything but happy about it. Dean felt his heart leap in his chest but years of practice let him keep his face impassive.

“Have we been reduced to this so easily?” Lord Robert demanded. “We talk of unity and yet turn on each other as soon as a prize is dangled before us?”

John opened his mouth to reply but there was a knock on the door. Sam entered the room, red in the face and breathless with Jo on his heels. “Apologies, I was otherwise occupied.”

John nodded and explained quickly. “Lady Ellen received a message from King Crowley of Ireland and made haste here without delay. It seems the King is offering his son, Castiel, and the lands of Lyonesse as a prize in a tournament.”

Lady Ellen confirmed John’s words. “The messenger made no secret of the fact that he was intending to issue a similar…invitation to all the Barons.”

Lord Robert let out an angry growl, but there was something close to resignation in his tone when he spoke, “And because some will accept, all must accept, apparently.”

There was a silence as the room considered that and Dean had to fight, again to keep his emotions from showing on his face. Since Lady Ellen had first read the parchment aloud and then handed it to John for perusal, Dean’s thoughts had rested on only one thing. If the King of Ireland was to hold a tournament, it would be held in Ireland. Ireland was the only place Dean truly wanted to be. It seemed too good to be true and Dean was afraid to trust it too quickly. He knew his desires were selfish, but for the first time since he had opened the note Michael had sent him, Dean was experiencing something close to hope. “So,” he said, when the silence dragged on, “We must fight amongst ourselves regardless?” He held his breath.

“Not necessarily,” Sam spoke up and Dean was tempted to drag his brother from the room by his hair.

“Explain,” John said.

Sam shrugged, “They are attempting to use cunning to divide us. We must respond in kind. We have cards of our own to play.”

Everyone was looking at Sam now, but it was Lord Robert who spoke up, “What do you suggest?”

“Our family is and always has been the rallying point; a potential King of Briton stands here,” Sam waved a hand at John. “You must announce that you intend to send a champion to fight in the tournament. Not to do so would be seen as weakness. Then you must add that you will share the prize with every Baron who remains loyal to you. The lands, anyway.” Sam turned his smile to their friends, “Lord Singer and Lady Harvelle will join with you and others will follow.”

There was silence as everyone considered that, even Dean could not fail to be impressed by Sam’s logical thinking. He particularly liked the idea of a ‘champion’ being sent to represent the allegiance. He had very specific ideas about who would fill that role. “It may even give us some indication of who is truly in favour of a united Briton and who merely seeks the biggest carrot,” Dean offered.

“Or fears the sharpest whip,” Lady Ellen was actually smiling at that thought.

Sam chuckled but shook his head, “No, there is no threat here, only the promise of rewards. Insofar as I can see.”

“It is a good plan,” John said. “Assuming I can count on your support, of course.”

Lady Ellen gave John a look that could melt glass, “No, John. We rode here as though the devil himself was on our heels simply to enjoy the scenery.”

“Who will be your champion?” Lord Robert asked.

Dean could not stop himself this time. His eyes flicked to every face in the room but no one was looking at him. Sammy, Lady Ellen and Lord Robert were looking at John, who was staring off into the distance. “I shall,” Dean declared. It seemed the appropriate moment for a bold move.

Now, they all looked at him. “You do not…” Sam began, but John held up a hand.

“You are not yet yourself, Dean. You are not yet healed.” So, even his father had noticed.

Dean cursed his own carelessness. He had clearly allowed his mask to slip more frequently than he had realised. He had tried to conceal his pain from his family but they had seen it anyway. For a moment, Dean was tempted to confess to them what had happened. If he told them about meeting his True Mate they would understand why he was the best and only choice for champion in this tournament. No one would fight harder to win the hand of the prince because if the prince came to Briton, he would bring a retinue and if there was a God in heaven, Michael would be part of that retinue.

Dean wanted to make them all understand but still, he hesitated. It was one thing for John of Winchester to marry a prince of Ireland to secure an alliance, but it was something quite different for Dean to admit that he had chosen an Irishman as a mate for no advantage.

Dean tried to think quickly. He was surprised to realise that if his extended family could not accept his choice he probably would not care, certainly not enough for their disapproval to change anything. On the other hand, there was a chance they would question his loyalties. They would be unlikely to blame him but they might decide he was too close to the situation to be objective.

Dean made his choice. “Father, I know I have not been myself. It was difficult for me to face my own mortality in such a way,” Dean kept eye contact with his father. He could feel the tension in the room. It was rolling off everyone. He could even smell it on Sammy but his brother was not the one he truly needed to convince. John would have the final word here and so, Dean refused to let himself flinch from the scrutiny. “Being here, being home should have helped me, I know it. The truth is that it has made it worse. I need to remember who I am and what I do. This trip shall be my tonic.”

John stared hard at his eldest son, “Can you do this, Dean? Tell me, truthfully.”

“I can,” Dean insisted. “Let me go and win you a husband.”

There was a silence as John weighed Dean’s words but Dean could feel the truth; his father could name another champion but Dean was the best chance they had at victory. It was Sammy who spoke up first. “This…prince, he could be far, far more useful than the lands themselves. If you are joined in marriage to this man, this Castiel, you have an even greater claim to the throne of Briton.”

John finally looked away from Dean and smiled indulgently at Sam, “You are getting ahead of yourself, son. Ahead of all of us, in fact. There is no throne of Briton.”

Sam smiled back, “Not yet. Forgive me, father but I believe I am seeing clearly. If you can secure the allegiance of enough of the Barons, we can declare you King, joined to the prince of Ireland, as soon as Dean can obtain him for you. He can bring peace without spilling one drop of blood. This could in fact be the very chance we have been waiting for.”

Lord Robert chuckled, “You see the rainbow when all we see is rain.”

Dean felt his heart thump unevenly in his chest. John was looking at Sam, his expression pensive. Dean knew better than to interrupt his father’s train of thought but silently he was giving thanks for his brother. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he had not considered the long-term potential benefits of acquiring the prince of Ireland, but now he could see them. It seemed almost too good to think that in one swoop, Dean and his family could get everything they had wanted.

When John got to his feet, Dean needed nothing but the expression on his father’s face. Even so, it was good to hear the words. “Dean, assemble your most trusted men and prepare to leave,” he consulted the letter in his hand. “In four days.”

XXX

“So, I am to be traded at your pleasure.” Castiel did not even pretend to make the statement into a question.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking upwards in a smile. “Yes, you are.”

Castiel searched for the right words but it was difficult to find them; it was difficult to feel the necessary indignation in the face of this latest outrage. Most of the time, he felt nothing at all. Now, he simply stared at the man in front of him. “You are my father,” Castiel said finally. He spoke the words to convince himself of their truth but Crowley clearly missed the meaning.

“Then obey me, son.”

“As you command,” Castiel agreed. If Crowley was expecting Castiel to put up a fight, he would be disappointed. “I suppose any man would be an improvement on Uriel.”

“You should speak of the dead with more respect,” Crowley said. Castiel could tell that he had said something wrong but he cared little about that either. His manners would not offend his father for much longer. Soon, they would offend whoever won him in a tournament.

“If there is nothing else, I would like to retire to my chambers.”

The King stared hard at him, “Very well. The tournament will begin in a week. Anna will ensure you are presentable.” Castiel nodded and, having nothing further to add, backed slowly out of the room.

He walked in a daze back to his rooms with Anna by his side. He knew he should probably be feeling something akin to anger at this latest outrage, but there was nothing. Anna pressed her arm to his in a gesture of comfort and Castiel appreciated it though he did not truly need it.

Ignoring Lucifer, who was still assigned to be his guard, Castiel pushed open the door himself letting Anna close it behind them. “Surely, my prince, this is good news.”

“How so?” Castiel asked, sitting down on the sofa. “I am to be sold to an Alpha I have never even met.” He laughed entirely without humour, “Apologies, I misspoke. I am to be given away as a prize. Which is much better, of course.”

“But…” Anna crouched down in front of him so that Castiel was forced to meet her eyes, “Do you not think…”

“What Anna, what should I think?” He was tired; Castiel felt tired down to his bones. He wanted to sleep.

“My prince,” Anna offered him a smile, “Do you not think that perhaps your Alpha may come?”

Dean. Castiel tried to stop the thought before it could fully bloom. The very idea of seeing Dean again was enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He had imagined so many ways it could happen and then, finally, he had forced himself to stop thinking about it. The pain was too bad. Now Anna was staring at him and he was forced to think about it.

He tried to imagine how Dean would react to such an invitation from the King of Ireland. Would his Alpha be tempted? “Why should he come, Anna? He thinks I am a servant named Michael.” A small part of him hated the idea that Dean would come back to Ireland, only to win the hand of someone else. Even if he had sent his Alpha away in the first instance. Even if the ‘someone else’ was, in fact, him. His head was aching slightly.

Anna took Castiel’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Your father means to invite all the Barons of Briton. They are to compete for you and lands. Is there no chance?”

“There…” He wanted to deny it; God knew how much he wanted to deny it. Just considering the possibility might be enough to end him if it came to nothing. If only Anna would stop looking at him. Her wide, hopeful eyes were difficult to ignore. “There may be a chance,” he conceded. His heart thumped unevenly in his chest.

Anna smiled and rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “Then please, Castiel. Just this one time, have hope.”

XXX

Dean’s hands trembled as he checked over his packaged belongings. Soon they would depart for Ireland but the time dragged along so slowly it made him ache. He knew he had packed everything he needed and yet, he checked again.

“I thought you finished yesterday.” Sam walked into Dean’s room without waiting for an invitation and threw himself down onto the bed.

“I did. I just wanted to make sure there was nothing I had forgotten.” Dean avoided Sam’s eyes while trying not to make his avoidance obvious.

“Are you excited for the trip?”

“I am. I intend to win this prince for our father.” That was certainly true. Dean would fight his way through anything for the chance to win this prince; a prince who would need his closest servants to smooth the transition to a new home.

“Why?”

The question caught Dean off guard and he looked up to find Sammy peering at him through squinted eyes. The boy usually reserved that look for books written in different languages. “You think I want to lose?”

“I believe you want to win this tournament but I…” Sammy trailed off and Dean wanted to shrink from the look he was being given. Ordinarily, he liked the fact that he and Sam were so close, now it felt dangerous. He kept his face smooth if slightly puzzled, as though waiting for Sam to continue. In the end, Sammy simply sighed and looked at his older brother sadly, “Is there the slightest chance that if I asked you what was wrong you would tell me? The truth, I mean?”

“Sammy…”

“Dean, you have been there for me every day of my life. Perhaps, just perhaps, you could let me be there for you, just this once?”

The earnest plea made Dean’s heart ache. If Sammy had been a few years younger, Dean would have been tempted to hug the questions away. As it was, he considered trying to maintain the pretense but it hurt him. Sammy was not fooled and Dean did not want to add to the insult. “I want to tell you, Sammy. I wish that I could,” Dean said, truthfully. Despite his brother being nine years younger than him, Dean would have confided if he could. “I will tell you, one day, I swear it.”

“You do not trust me?” Sam’s mouth turned down at the corners, his expression positively heart-breaking.

“I trust you more than anyone,” Dean said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “You will not manipulate my emotions so easily.”

“Father is much easier,” Sam let himself smile for a moment before his expression became serious again, “I just want you to tell me, Dean. I want to help you. Do you think I cannot see the pain you are in?”

Finally, abandoning all attempts at avoidance, Dean took a seat next to his brother. “Sammy, I truly believe this trip may cure it. And I will tell you all, as soon as I am able.”

Sammy was not satisfied. Dean could see how desperately his younger brother wanted to push the issue. It was written all over his face; it was spread throughout his scent.

Dean wanted to tell Sam the truth but he knew that he would not actually do it. If everything worked out the way he hoped it would in Ireland, perhaps he and Sammy would be able to laugh about this. Perhaps Michael would laugh with them. It was a dangerous hope but it was getting harder and harder to smother it. He pressed a hand to his brother’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “As soon as I am able, Sammy.”

Sam smiled at him, then. There was still concern evident, but Dean was touched to see how much trust was there too. “Then, I wish you good fortune on your trip.” Sam got off the bed and made his way to the door. He hesitated before he paused left and glanced back at Dean, “I wish I could come with you.”

Dean smiled, “I love you, too.”

Sammy just gave Dean a nod and disappeared through the door.

Dean decided to check his packing on final time.

Chapter Text

The days had passed slowly for Castiel. It consisted of long hours staring out of his windows, trying to convince himself that the sun was actually moving across the sky. He would have given anything for something to do. It was hard to occupy his mind with tasks that did not include physical exertion. He tried to read but his attention drifted before he had finished a page. Anna even tried once again to teach him to embroider, something Castiel had refused to do from the year he turned eight, but it worked no better

He would have liked to walk along the beach until his legs ached from trudging through the sand. Unfortunately, his father seemed to trust him less than ever before, especially since their conversation about the tournament. It was the first thing Castiel had found mildly amusing since Dean had left Ireland. If he had even been considering running away, he was not considering it any longer.

Anna’s words had gotten to him, no matter how hard he had tried to fight it. The truth was that she was correct; there was a chance that Dean would come to the tournament. He still hated the very idea that Dean would consider mating with someone other than him, but he tried to put it aside. If Dean did come to Ireland and did win the tournament, Castiel knew he would not care at all how or why it happened.

When the sun peeked over the horizon the day of the tournament, Castiel stretched out his tired muscles. He had not been able to sleep at all the previous night. The knowledge that the competitors would have arrived the previous day sat heavily in his stomach. If Dean was coming, he was here already. He had considered trying to sneak out of the castle but Anna had anticipated his desire and stayed close by his side. It was a foolish thing to consider. Lucifer still kept his station outside of Castiel’s chambers and, short of climbing out of the window, there was nothing he could do to escape.

He let out a shuddering sigh and got to his feet just as there was a knock at his door. Anna entered without awaiting a response. She carried swatches of different coloured fabric in her arms. Behind her, came a parade of other servants laden down with other items.

A breakfast tray was placed on the table, water was poured into a large copper cauldron and swung over the newly rebuilt fire. Castiel watched as they swarmed around his room, carrying out their various duties. His heart began fluttering in his chest.

Everything hinged on today. The rest of his life would be decided before the sun set again. His hand moved to his opposite shoulder. The bite mark Dean had left on his arm had finally faded away completely two days previously. The sadness he felt at seeing the bare skin had almost brought him to his knees.

“Go, now,” Anna began shooing the servants from the room. “I will send for you if you are needed.”

Castiel was grateful. Keeping his face impassive was difficult and he wanted to be alone with Anna; with her, there was no need to pretend. “Gratitude, Anna.”

She hurried to his side and guided him towards the tub that had been placed in front of the fire. Anna’s eyes were flicking rapidly from his face to checking the water temperature and back again. “Are you well, my prince?”

Castiel could not think of a word less appropriate then ‘well’ to describe how he was feeling. Everything inside of him was churning. Only the concern evident on Anna’s face stopped him from laughing aloud at the very idea. He just shook his head but managed to offer her a weak smile, “I have never been so…”

Anna clutched his hands in hers and helped him into the tub. She began rubbing soap into his hair gently. “I understand.”

Castiel wanted to tell her that she did not understand. If she had not found her True Mate, given herself to them and then been forced to send them away, there was no way she could understand. Instead he sighed and let her continue her ministrations. “What if he comes? What if he does not? What if he comes, but he does not win?”

“You will have an answer to those questions and all others soon.”

“Anna…” Castiel’s voice broke, “I am so very afraid.”

He felt her fingers bite into his shoulders slightly from where she stood behind him. “Whatever happens, I will stay by your side.”

Castiel nodded. He was so grateful for her presence, even if it had been hard for him to show it over the past weeks. She was always on his side. He nodded his head and submitted meekly to everything she wanted to do to him.
He was scrubbed clean. She trimmed his hair carefully with a sharp blade and shaved his face. When he got out of the water, he stood placidly while she rubbed sweet-smelling oils into his skin. Castiel had his arms raised over his head, wriggling into his tunic when he asked, “Are there many of them?”

Anna did not have to ask to what he was referring. “Tents have been erected all along the beach, my prince. Many have come, but how many are champions come to compete is uncertain.”

Anna strapped a belt around his hips and draped a long cloak of blue over his shoulder. After making some minor adjustments to his generally unruly hair, she stepped back to survey her work. “Do I… look as I should?” Castiel asked, after long moments had passed.

“You are beautiful, my prince.” Anna replied, sincerely.

Castiel turned to consider the mirror. His reflection was distorted slightly by the rippled metal but even he could see that he had been well tended to. His clothes flattered his body and his hair shone in the weak light coming through the window. There were spots of colour on his cheeks that animated his expression. Castiel nodded at Anna in thanks, “We should cover my face.”

“Why, my prince?”

Castiel looked at his reflection again, “Because if Dean is here, I will not be able to hide my happiness and if he is not, I will not be able to hide my pain.”

“Very well.”

Castiel stood still while Anna draped a thin piece of fabric over his head and face. She tucked it carefully around his neck, securing it with two or three ornamental pins. Just as she was affixing the final one, the door to Castiel’s chambers opened.

He did not flinch as the King strode into the room. Only his father ever entered without at least knocking on the door first. “You are prepared?” Asked Crowley, without so much as a greeting.

Castiel nodded, unconcerned, “If I have your approval, father?”

“Perhaps the competitors would prefer to see the face of their prize?” The King said with a raised eyebrow.

Castiel raised the edge of the fabric high enough to be able to look at his father, “As a gift, I thought I should be properly wrapped.”

The King shrugged as though it was of little importance to him, “As you wish, I suppose.” Castiel wanted to laugh. He could count on one hand the number of times his father had allowed him license to make any decision. “I suspect after the tournament we shall not see each other for some time.”

Castiel nodded. He did not pretend to mourn his father’s society; he did not see the need. He would be content never to lay eyes on the wretched little man ever again. King or no King; father or no father. “I suspect we will not,” he said. The most Castiel could bring himself to do was incline his covered head politely.

King Crowley’s eyes flickered with some vague emotion. If Castiel had been forced to name it, he might have called it amusement. “You will do as your Alpha commands, I hope.”

“Of course, father.”

“He is not a man to be trifled with.” The King said, now most certainly concealing a smile, poorly.

Castiel did not allow himself a reaction. He was surprised to learn his father had already, somehow, selected his new Alpha and that surprise embarrassed him. He should have known the King would not allow anything to be left to chance if he could avoid it. He had been so caught up in thinking of Dean that he had allowed his father to blindside him, at least partially. “I am sure that is true, my King.”

King Crowley spent a long moment watching his son’s face. The man was searching for some sort of horrified reaction and Castiel refused, one last time, to give him what he wanted. Finally, the King nodded and made his way towards the door, “I will bid you good fortune, my son.”

“Father,” Castiel said, by way of a farewell.

Castiel stared at the door, despite the sound of Anna’s horrified gasp behind him. She reached for his hand and Castiel gave it to her without a thought. “He has…chosen your Alpha?” She asked, meekly.

“I should have suspected as much,” Castiel sighed. “His true purpose is as we supposed.”

“But how…?”

“Any number of ways. Perhaps he has had the weapons tampered with. Perhaps he has fixed the matches somehow.” It did not matter how the King intended to ensure the outcome of the tournament; the method was immaterial. Despite his horror at the idea, Castiel knew there was nothing to be done about it, not at this late hour.

“The Alpha your father speaks of…”

Castiel shook his head, “Someone deplorable no doubt; someone hated and reviled.”

“Why?”

“Regardless of the worth my father affords me, I could be used as a rallying point for the one who claims me. My status will afford a certain gravitas. The King will want me mated to someone the others hate to ensure the Barons will not unite behind him.”

“What is to be done?” Anna asked, quietly and Castiel understood that she already knew the answer to her own question.

“There is nothing to be done Anna.”

“Oh, my prince.” He could hear the tears in Anna’s voice but he could not meet her eyes.

They had talked this over before now and they agreed the King’s actions were almost laughably transparent. “It is too late for…anything, Anna. It is too late for anything, but hope.”

“My prince?”

“We knew my father’s purpose was to divide the Barons. Now, we see that he hopes to create an extended period of discord between them and there is nothing we can do but hope that someone can stop him. We cannot do anything to stand in the way, not now. So, we must hope that someone can.”

“Someone?”

“Yes, I hope it will be Dean,” Castiel admitted. “My Alpha was able to kill Uriel. We must hope that he can overcome whatever obstacles my father throws in his way. The things that Dean told me suggest that he is well-loved. His family is respected and perhaps they could…make good use of me. A good Alpha.”

“Then, we must hope, my prince.”

Castiel gripped her hand more tightly, “We must.”

XXX

Dean could feel every muscle in his body thrumming with anticipation as he armed himself for the first bout. The speech given by the King at the beginning had washed over him. He did not care to hear the pompous words of the strange man who had caused his family so much grief over the years.

He found that he did not truly hate King Crowley. They were enemies, plain and simple. Dean would be happy for the opportunity to end the King’s life, of course, but there was no personal loathing and so he did not bother to give the man his attention. Rather, his eyes had scanned the crowds for Michael.

It appeared everyone who lived within a hundred miles of the castle had come to witness the tournament. A wooden arena had been erected, obviously with some haste, and its raised, tiered seats were packed with people. Dean could look up at them from where he was seated at ground level, on the edge of the arena. Each competitor had their own small space at the edge of the sand that had obviously been hauled up from the nearby beach and pressed into use. His friends and allies moved behind him, talking and laughing and noisily heckling the other fighters. Most of it was done in good-humour, fortunately. Ordinarily, Dean might have joined in with the others, enjoying the lead up to the fighting. Perhaps he would have had a drink or four. As it was, there were other things on his mind.

He had reasoned that Michael was sure to be seated somewhere near the prince he served. He examined every face in the royal stand again and again but his heart sank when he saw no sign of Michael.

“Do you think he has the pox?”

Dean turned to find Jo leaning against the railing of their preparation area. “Who has the pox?” He asked, perplexed.
Jo nodded towards the stand, “The prince.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and realised what she meant. The prince of Ireland was immediately apparent due to his fine clothing but his face was hidden behind a veil. He had not noticed until Jo pointed it out; he had been too preoccupied with his own search. “I hope not. I doubt my father would be pleased.”

Jo chuckled, “What do you think of your opponent?”

Dean looked across the flattened sand. Lord Gordon of Walker was not looking at him, rather he was checking the edge on the sword he would be armed with. “I would have preferred to have drawn a sword, too.” Dean allowed the mace he was holding to roll in his grasp. Weapons and opponents were chosen randomly through a drawing of lots and fortune was apparently not with Dean today. “I will need to get closer to him than I would have liked.”

Jo smiled, “Try not to kill him; not unless absolutely necessary.”

“I will,” Dean said with a small smile.

“That was a somewhat ambiguous answer.”

“I know.” Jo was still smiling as she stepped back and Dean went to take his place on the sands.
More than thirty of the Barons had come to compete which was a lower number than they could have hoped. As his genius of a little brother had predicted, others had fallen in behind Lord Robert and Lady Ellen once they allied themselves with John. A small and prideful part of him hoped the allegiances stemmed at least partially from his own reputation as a warrior.

He would need to defeat four fighters before the final round, five matches in total, but it could have been a lot worse. As it was, Dean could have wished for a less skilled opponent, particularly for his first. Lord Gordon was not someone Dean cared for, but he respected the older man. They had fought alongside each other on numerous occasions and Dean knew Lord Gordon to be a vicious fighter. He could not afford to take a serious injury so early in the day if he hoped to emerge the victor and Dean would settle for no less.

Someone was speaking from the royal stands again, though not the King this time. He was announcing the first round and explaining how the tournament would proceed but Dean as not paying attention. He was looking at Lord Gordon who was looking directly back at him. They stared at each other as Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Dean was wondering what his first opponent was seeing during his perusal; had Lord Gordon perhaps heard gossip about his recent distraction and distance from his family? Was the man anticipating an easy win? If he was, Dean was determined to disappoint him.

There was a lot of noise coming from around him. People were shouting in the stands and the announcer yelled something but it washed over Dean. He was more interested in watching closely as Lord Gordon hefted his sword and stepped forwards. It had begun.

Dean felt the weight of the mace again and was pleased with it. He took his own step forwards and then he waited. Lord Gordon waited too. He stepped cautiously to the side and Dean stepped too, mirroring the movement perfectly. His mace did not have the reach of a sword and so he mirrored.

He had sat in many meetings with Lord Gordon. The man had more patience than Lord Alistair, perhaps he even had more than Dean. However, he lacked Dean’s motivation on this particular day and when Lord Gordon struck forwards with the agility of a snake, he only hit air.

Dean pivoted on his left ankle and allowed his right shoulder to drop out of range. To add a small insult to the action, Dean used his mace to bat the sword further away. His opponent did not rise to the bait. Lord Gordon regained his balance perfectly and the sword continued moving without pause as the older man allowed his wrist to rotate with the force of Dean’s block. The blade came back at Dean in a smooth circle, this time on course to hit his right leg.

Dean was grudgingly impressed; it was a smooth attack but Dean was faster. His shifted his weight, pulled his right leg away and brought the mace down to block it again. This time, while Lord Gordon was re-adjusting, Dean cuffed the man sharply on the jaw with his left elbow. There was a definite snarl in the air as Lord Gordon regained his footing and Dean fought the urge to smile.

It was always a weakness to assume you had superiority just because of the weapons you carried. Humans were fragile and could be taken apart by another using only their hands, if necessary. Lord Gordon did not care for the lesson apparently and as he spat out a small gobbet of blood, he bared his teeth. Dean was pleased to see the anger there; he could use it.

Dean kept moving as Lord Gordon attempted to bring the sword to bear. He had to grudgingly respect the fact that the other man did not allow his irritation to drive him towards vicious action. Dean was prepared for it and confident that he could out-manoeuvre the older man but this was not supposed to be a fight to the death. Dean would kill an opponent if he had to, but it was certainly not his intention. Apparently, it was not Lord Gordon’s intention either, which tallied oddly with the man Dean thought he knew.

The sword jabbed towards Dean’s shoulders again and again in an attempt to wound him. It slashed at his legs, to hobble him no doubt but there was no attempt to get to his face or neck and only half-hearted attempts to get to his torso.

The longer this continued the stranger Dean found it. He was blocking blow after blow with his usual efficiency, occasionally attempting one of his own. However, even when he opened Lord Gordon’s shoulder with the sharp spikes on the mace, there was no escalation of the fight; Lord Gordon was simply refusing to be bated no matter how angry he became.

Dean had been waiting for impatience to cause an inevitable slip but now he was forced to reconsider. If Lord Gordon did not attempt to gain the upper hand by coming closer, they could be caught in this dance for a long time. The mace, despite being smaller, was heavier than the sword and Dean knew it would tire him if he was forced to keep using it to deflect attacks. The sword would tire Lord Gordon also, but it did not seem as though the man cared about that.

The realisation hit Dean out of nowhere. Lord Gordon might hope to win this bout through perseverance but it was not of paramount importance to the man. His goal here was simply to exhaust Dean’s reserves of strength. The blows being delivered were not being given full weight or force. They were quick certainly, but the attacks were all small and sharp. Dean was the one having to do all the moving.

Dean felt a flush of irritation climb up the back of his neck. He hated being played for a fool and it was tempting for a moment to let loose his Alpha, to cause his opponent a serious injury. If it had been any other time, Dean would probably have done just that. Unfortunately, he could not allow himself that luxury, it was too risky.

There would certainly be a reason for this game Lord Gordon was playing and Dean looked forward to considering it at some point in the future. Now, however, he knew what he had to do. With grim determination, Dean blocked another blow directed at his left shoulder and batted the sword away. Lord Gordon was not concerned and continued jabbing at Dean’s arms and legs in no particular order. Dean kept a tight grip on his temper and waited.

Perhaps six moves later, Dean crowed internally as Lord Gordon made a thrust towards the left, towards the thigh. Dean knew he could not afford to take an injury to the arm, nor could he afford to lose mobility in his ankles or knees and so this, was by far the best alternative.

Lord Gordon’s eyes widened in surprise and not a little pleasure as the sword made enough contact to cut through Dean’s leggings and draw some blood. It was the surprise that Dean had been counting on and as he had expected, the older man hesitated because of it. Dean however, did not hesitate.

He flung the mace to the ground and stepped forwards, ignoring the trickle of blood streaming from the wound on his leg. With a dark sense of glee Dean braced his shoulders and threw his whole body weight forwards. Lord Gordon’s nose did not merely break, it was crushed under the force of Dean’s forehead. There was a cry of pain but Dean did not pause. He grasped Lord Gordon’s sword hand in his own. His twisted the other man’s wrist sharply and was pleased when the sword clattered to the ground. At the same moment, he leant backwards and then pushed forwards again, making fresh contact with Lord Gordon’s injured face. This time Lord Gordon positively howled and Dean was delighted to aim a kick to the man’s knee, bearing him to the ground.

He had already won and he knew it but his irritation at Lord Gordon’s games flared anew. He clenched his empty hand into a fist and executed a jab, landing it perfectly below the sternum. The air in Lord Gordon’s lungs left in a whoosh, “Do you yield?” Dean demanded, knowing it would not be possible for the other man to speak for several seconds at least. His next blow landed on Lord Gordon’s face. Blood covered Dean’s fist but he barely noticed it. His grip on his opponent tightened as he landed another blow and another.

Lord Gordon was crouched on his knees. Dean had let go of the wrist, preferring to move his grip to Lord Gordon’s tunic. He hoped others were watching. He wanted them to see what happened to someone who tried to get in his way, to someone who tried to stand between Dean and his Omega.

When there was more blood than flesh visible on Lord Gordon’s face, Dean let go of the man’s tunic and pushed him to collapse on the sand covered ground. The yellow grains clung to the blood steadily dripping from Lord Gordon’s mouth and nose. The man was still conscious though and he let out a groan. Dean could have continued with the beating until his opponent was unable to speak but he did not want to. With a calm demeanour, that belied the turmoil inside of him, Dean picked up the abandoned sword and casually held it in front of Lord Gordon’s face. “I asked you, do you yield?”

There was a coughing noise and another groan. Lord Gordon raised his head but the man’s eyes were swollen. Dean could not be sure whether he was being seen or not. It did not matter. Lord Gordon raised two fingers in the classic salute, “Y…Yield.” Dean did not bother to even glance back as he left the field, tossing the sword away. He did not permit himself a smile; things were just beginning and it was going to be a long day.

Jo was smiling though, when Dean returned to her side. As soon as Dean sat down, she began rubbing her thumbs deep into the muscles of his neck. He wanted to groan at the relief the pressure brought him but held it back, refusing to show any sign of weakness. “Well, at least he still lives,” Dean could hear the smile still in her voice.

“He made me angry,” Dean grunted and let his head drop forward, encouraging Jo to work her fingers higher. “Oh, yes. That feels wonderful.”

“He was dragging things about deliberately,” Jo said and Dean knew what she was talking about immediately.

He glanced around to make sure no other members of their party were listening. He trusted their friends but only to a certain extent. “I realised,” he confirmed.

Jo made an irritated noise in the back of her throat, “Something strange is happening here today.”

Since she clearly meant something other than Lord Gordon’s actions, Dean turned to bring their faces close together, “Explain?”

Jo was frowning, her voice barely above a whisper, as she leant towards him, “Lord Alistair, his match lasted seconds and his opponent barely attempted a blow.”

Dean glanced around the arena. The second round had begun to determine who else would make it to the final sixteen competitors. Two of the bouts had already concluded but the others continued. “The draw has been fixed,” he suggested.

“It seems likely,” Jo agreed. “But Lord Alistair seemed genuinely surprised.”

“So, what do you think is happening?”

She considered that for a long moment, “I suspect Lord Alistair and Lord Gordon, and who knows how many others, have banded together, just as we have. They intend to defeat you and claim the prize for themselves.”

“That would make sense.” He found it hard to even look down on them for it, despite his general opinion of them. After all, it was exactly what they were doing. Of course, they had made an announcement of their intentions and were not attempting any subterfuge.

“But the fixing of the matches, I think is another plot entirely,” Jo continued.

“The Barons have no sway over the draw,” Dean said. It would have to be someone responsible for the set-up of the tournament. Dean let his eyes wander back to the royal stand and considered King Fergus Crowley. If the man had gone so far as to set up a competition that included giving away his only son, then it seemed more than reasonable the man would attempt to ensure the victor.

Dean was so caught up in his thoughts that he did not immediately realise that someone was looking at him; at least, Dean thought someone was looking at him. The prince, Castiel, despite being hidden behind his veil, seemed to be looking directly at him. His face was certainly angled in Dean’s direction. Despite himself, Dean found it hard to tear his eyes away from the unknown prince. Michael had not said anything to indicate the prince was unpleasant during their time together; in fact, he had mentioned that he and the prince agreed on many things. He found that he felt sorry for the man who was about to be sold into marriage.

“It matters not.” Jo said behind him, patting him on the shoulder, continuing their conversation as though there had been no interruption. “Let them plot as they like.”

“Why do you say that?” Dean asked, pulling himself back to the topic at hand.

Jo chuckled and planted a kiss on the top of his head, “Because you will be the winner.”

Dean smiled despite himself. She sounded so very, very sure. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

She sat down next to him, watching the matches still going on with very little interest, “All you have to do is stop your opponents from drawing the matches out. After seeing what you did to Gordon, I suspect some of them will be changing their minds about baiting you.”

“I only broke his nose,” Dean protested.

“I disagree. I think his dignity is still somewhere in the arena.”

This time Dean had to laugh at her. He was glad she was here. If he could not have Sammy’s company, he needed Jo’s. “You can be such a darling sometimes,” he said.

Jo glared at him, the sweetness of the compliment making her narrow her eyes in exaggerated irritation. “They may not beat you down, but I have no problem doing so.”

“I believe you. I have no defence against such a shameless hair-puller.” Jo got to her feet with a huff and flicked the back of his ear as she wandered away. “Hey, that hurt!”

“Good!” She sang back to him.

The second match was harder than the first. Lord Gordon had managed to tire Dean. He had drawn a sword this time and so he made sure to finish the match as quickly as possible. His opponent, Lord Cesar, was not someone Dean disliked. In fact, they had fought together in the past when the situation warranted it. However, their tribe was somewhat isolationist and they had, politely, refused the request to ally themselves with John of Winchester.

It was obvious that they had not entangled themselves with Lord Alistair or Lord Gordon though and as such, the match was an honest one. It took Dean almost fifteen minutes to emerge the victor and by that point his muscles were aching. Still, they shook hands when the fight was done and, Dean hoped, they parted respecting each other.

He gave thanks when his third match passed by easily. The man had been injured in a previous round and seemed to have accepted that he would lose before they even began. Dean allowed the man, whose name he could not remember, to make a few swipes with his dagger. He did not want to humiliate such a brave fighter after all. Still, it was very easy to disarm his opponent.

His fourth match was something else entirely. He found himself facing a female Alpha. She had long blonde hair like Jo and similar blue eyes, but there the similarities ended. She might have been a beautiful woman, but her lips were pulled back over her teeth in an ugly looking snarl. Since there were only three matches to go at this point, the sands were cleared for him to fight her. The announcer gave her name as Lilith and Dean cringed when he realised who she was.

Lord Azazel lived far north and was almost as vicious as the Irishmen who invaded their lands periodically. He raided other nearby towns on a regular basis for supplies and sometimes women and children too. There had been attempts to wipe out the whole tribe in the past, but Lord Azazel seemed to have a gift for hiding and for knowing when hiding was necessary.

Dean had heard rumours that Lord Azazel had two daughters, both of whom were Alphas, but he had never met either one of them before. Now, he was glad of it. If Lilith’s sister was anything like her, Dean hoped never to have to set eyes on either one of them again.

She fought brutally and viciously, wielding a sharply tipped spear as though it was an extension of her own body. The range of the weapon made things difficult for Dean, armed as he was with the mace once again. If he had previously doubted Jo’s opinion that the draws for weapons or opponents were being fixed, those doubts were laid to rest. With more than ten different weapon options, it seemed far, far too unlucky. Whether the King was behind this or someone else, it was obviously their intention that Dean make it no further.

Lilith was faster on her feet than Dean would have liked. When he managed to pin her to the ground she did not let the defeat stop her from surging forward to take a large chunk of flesh from his ear. Dean knew it would hurt later but at that moment it simply enraged him. He wrapped one large hand around her throat and shook her roughly until her head bounced off the sand. Her eyes rolled in her head but she managed to choke out the necessary words.

Dean climbed off her prone body immediately, brushing himself down. He felt dirty from touching her but he ignored the need to wash. What he really needed to do was catch his breath while the penultimate match took place.

Jo was at his side again rubbing her hands firmly over his limbs and forcing a cup of water into his hand. Another of their friends, Garth began wiping at the blood that was trickling down Dean’s face. “Only one more, Dean. You are so close.”

“I can do this, Jo.”

“I know you can.”

Dean wished he felt as confident as he sounded. Every muscle, every joint in his body was screaming at him. The wound on his thigh from his first match with Lord Gordon had closed during the day but now, it had reopened again. In addition, Lilith had managed to land other blows which were bleeding steadily. Both arms were cut in more than one place. His ear was streaming blood down his neck and there was a cut above his left eye. That one concerned him more than the other. He could ignore pain if necessary but he could not risk his vision being obscured.

He indicated the cut with one hand, not wanting to waste his energy on speaking. Jo understood him and walked away with a grim expression on her face. She returned in seconds carrying a corked bottle and Dean braced himself. He nodded and tipped his head backwards. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was Jo pulling the cork from the bottle with her teeth.

Sharp, stinging pain lanced across his face as she poured the liquor over his brow, doing her best to keep it away from the rest of his face with her free hand. Smaller wounds that Dean had not noticed ignited under the alcohol. He hissed as quietly as he could manage and tried to breathe through the pain, waiting for it to tail off.

It did eventually and Jo sighed as she tapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, concern written all over her face. “The bleeding has stopped.”

“Good.”

“The match is over.”

Dean looked at the arena. A man Dean did not recognise was being lifted bodily off the ground. “Your opponent is Lord Alistair.”

Dean knew. He could see the man standing at the edge of the sands. Lord Alistair was not breathing heavily, nor was he bleeding anywhere that Dean could see. “Why am I not surprised?”

XXX

Dean had come to the tournament. Castiel’s eyes had been drawn to his Alpha immediately. For a long moment, he did not dare believe his own eyes. He wanted to, desperately, but he was afraid of letting the hope take too deep a root. He wanted to look to Anna and beg her to confirm what he thought he was seeing, but she was seated in the servant’s section, away from him. Instead, all he could do was allow himself to look his fill from behind his veil. He fought the temptation to rip the stupid thing from his head and call out. It would serve no purpose but the urge was still there.

He had to count out his breaths slowly to attempt to slow his racing heart. Dean was as Castiel remembered him but somehow completely different. He had never seen this side of his Alpha; here he was a warrior who fought for his family and lands. Castiel could see the looks Dean was getting, even if the Alpha seemed to be entirely oblivious to them. Other competitors were eyeing Dean with trepidation and not a small amount of respect. It made Castiel want to weep. People respected Dean and that meant that Castiel had been correct; his Alpha was a good one.

All those who had come to compete stood silently as the King gave a speech. Nothing of substance was stated and Castiel did not bother to pay proper attention. No one could give self-congratulatory speeches like his father and Castiel had heard many of them.

Dean’s eyes were not still for one second. He was scanning the royal stand repeatedly, eventually letting his eyes drift further away to the stands surrounding it. Castiel felt the urge to weep again. It was possible that Dean was simply acting out of curiosity but Castiel did not believe it for one moment. Dean was looking for his Omega, Michael. Again, he had the urge to rip the veil from his face and clenched his hands into fists to stop himself.

He had been tortured by the idea that Dean would come here to win the hand of Prince Castiel but he had tried to force the idea away. Seeing the way Dean searched the crowds now, was a balm to the wound. He did not know what Dean hoped for here but it was clear that the Alpha had not given up hope of claiming his Omega.

Castiel wondered if perhaps things were different in Briton. Perhaps in their lands, it was acceptable for an Alpha to take more than one lover? Certainly, only one mating bond could exist but perhaps Dean had been considering ways around that restriction. Dean would be expected to marry the prince and produce pups but did it follow therefore that Dean could not bed another if he chose?

Castiel knew his concerns were laughable. Once Dean knew of his identity it would not matter, but was it possible that Dean had not come here for the prince, but for his Omega? Castiel clung to the idea with all the hope he had inside of him as the King’s speech concluded and he watched Dean prepare for his first match.

The Alpha seemed entirely unconcerned with what was happening around him. He was testing the weight of the mace in his hands. Behind him, a veritable entourage of companions was milling around, drinking and laughing. There seemed to be more men with Dean than with any of the others and, unless Castiel was very much mistaken, many of them were Alphas themselves. They peered around the arena at the other competitors as though evaluating things. Dean stood, removed from it all, watching a tall, dark-skinned man who was waiting, armed with a sword. Castiel made an effort to keep still in his seat, reminding himself that there was a long way to go between now and the announcement of the victor. He would need to keep a level head.

Seconds later his resolve was challenged when Dean’s attention was caught by a woman. She was tall and blonde and could be described as nothing less than stunningly beautiful. He watched as Dean’s expression noticeably softened while they spoke. When the pair turned their eyes to the royal stand and directly at Castiel himself, he wanted to shrink back in his seat and throw himself over the railings all at once.

The woman was clearly an Alpha and she and Dean clearly had some sort of intimate relationship. It was unusual for Alphas to be involved with each other but not completely unheard of. If they were so, it was common for one or both to be female. Some Alphas enjoyed being challenged and Castiel knew from personal experience that Dean was one of them.

The idea that Dean had been intimate with the blonde woman standing at his side made Castiel’s skin crawl violently. Their easy interactions spoke of long familiarity and Castiel felt the jealousy claw at his insides. He wondered what they were saying as they spoke to each other and stared at him. Were they perhaps insulting the Omega prince of a country they despised? Were they speaking of him as nothing more than a prize to be made use of?

He was almost relieved when their mutual attention was transferred to the same man Dean had been watching previously. Dean was rolling the mace in his hand as though checking it was sound. It suddenly dawned on Castiel that they were obviously discussing Dean’s first opponent. A sick feeling replaced the previous jealousy. Castiel knew how the matches worked but the idea that Dean would have to fight another Alpha armed only with a mace, when his opponent wielded a sword was horrifying. He failed to see how anyone could win such a battle when the odds were so unfairly weighted.

Castiel felt utterly powerless as Dean took his place on the sand. There would be eight matches happening together for the first two rounds but there was only one that mattered to him. His Alpha was still smiling as though all was well and Castiel was surprised to see that the female Alpha was wearing the same expression. She showed no signs of concern as the announcement came and the match began. He quickly began to understand.

His Alpha moved with a grace Castiel had never seen before. He danced around and away from his opponent as the match progressed with seeming ease. Castiel allowed himself to take a breath. Dean had spoken of his skill in battle. Castiel smiled as he remembered the playful teasing they had indulged in together. Now, it was obvious that Dean had been modest.

Clearly, he had not over-stated his abilities. First blood went to Castiel’s Alpha and he allowed himself to smile happily behind his veil. The burgeoning shoot of hope that had first taken root when Anna suggested that Dean might attend the tournament was growing ever stronger. Despite all his determination Castiel was finding it hard to avoid hoping ever more; there was a chance that Dean would win this tournament. There was a chance that Castiel might be able to leave Ireland with his Alpha, his True Mate, just as he had wanted.

The fight continued but Castiel was able to watch it with a lighter heart, which was why the sudden shift took him so much by surprise. His eyes were tracking Dean’s movements so carefully that he almost cried out when his Alpha did not move out of the way of an attack quickly enough. Blood immediately stained Dean’s leggings and there seemed to be something forcibly pulling the air out of Castiel’s lungs.

Of course, there were only precious few seconds to absorb this sudden twist as Dean took control of the match. The other Alpha bellowed as Dean somehow threw himself forward and crushed the man’s face beneath his own. Castiel imagined he could hear bone snapping as Dean tossed aside his own weapon and brought the match to a speedy conclusion using only his hands. Blows were delivered with incredible speed and viciousness to the other Alpha’s body and face.

It had happened so quickly that there was barely time to react before Dean was walking off the field. The other Alpha was sat back on his knees, swaying as though he was about to collapse. Men rushed forwards and carried the bloodied man back to his companions. He disappeared out of Castiel’s sight.

Castiel only had eyes for his Alpha, even the blonde woman rushing forwards barely registered. He had never thought of himself as the kind of Omega who could be swayed by displays of violence. In fact, he still hoped that he would not react in such a way in any other circumstance. However, the sight of his Alpha, covered in the blood of another man who had hoped to win Castiel for himself, had an affect he could not deny. There was something savage but pleasing about the whole thing.

Dean seemed perfectly calm and in control as he took a seat and allowed himself the short rest period he could be afforded between the matches. The blonde woman placed her hands on Dean’s shoulders and began rubbing the muscles there. Castiel could clearly see the pleasure on Dean’s face at such attention. The jealousy returned with a flare that was positively ugly.

Castiel hated seeing someone else place their hands on Dean’s skin. Dean was Castiel’s; they were True Mates and they belonged to each other alone. If it had not been for the knowledge that such a reaction would ruin everything he hoped for, Castiel might have been tempted to wrench the offending hands from her very body. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that soon he may have the right to do so but it was hollow succour. At that moment, there was nothing he could do but watch Dean’s eyes fall shut with bliss at another person’s touch. They conversed quietly together in a way that made it clear that each had the others confidence. Dean was certainly treating her with peculiar regard compared to the other people surrounding them.

Castiel was trying not to allow the rage and jealousy he felt overtake him, when Dean suddenly looked up. For a moment, it did not seem strange, until he realised that Dean was looking straight at the royal stand and directly at him. If not for the veil he was wearing, Castiel would have been convinced that they were looking into each other’s eyes. His previous ire faded away as he allowed himself to look at Dean’s face.

Castiel wanted to have sufficient leisure time to memorise every curve and dip of Dean’s face. He wanted to know the placement every freckle on his Alpha’s skin. He sent up a silent prayer knowing he had never wanted anything more. He promised himself that if Dean won this tournament and claimed Castiel as his own, Castiel would never ask for anything else.

The blonde Alpha pulled Dean’s attention away again and Castiel watched them, trying to ignore his discomfort. He kept an ironclad grip on himself as the woman laughed with his Alpha. It was harder when she planted a kiss on Dean’s head but Castiel simply averted his eyes. The woman did not matter, he told himself. If Dean won this, Castiel would claim his Alpha and she would never touch Dean again. He firmly pushed away the thought of Dean doing anything but winning.

The announcement of the next matches forced Castiel’s attention back to the sands. Dean was already in place, waiting to begin. The blonde woman was watching Dean closely but Castiel ignored her, telling himself firmly that she did not matter. She slipped from Castiel’s mind completely as the fighting began. He realised immediately that this bout was different. Whoever Dean was fighting had a little of the same elegance in his movements. They came together and broke apart again and again. Dean and his opponent were armed with swords this time and he was clearly an expert in its use.

The clash of metal rang out from various matches but Castiel cared about nothing but Dean. His Alpha moved over the sand and as he fought the other man. Sweat dripped slowly down Dean’s forehead and Castiel had to suppress a shudder. It would not do to become aroused at the sight of his Alpha at this moment; he was surrounded by people. On the other hand, it was beyond difficult not to remember the scent and taste of Dean’s skin. Castiel could not help but remember how it had been to press his open mouth to Dean’s shoulder and taste the sweat there. He did not allow himself to squirm in his seat.

The second match came to end with Dean being declared the victor. Castiel was surprised to see the two Alphas shake hands after Dean pulled the other man back to his feet. When Dean turned to leave the sand, Castiel saw the other Alpha smile fleetingly. It was a pleasant realisation that Dean did indeed command respect and affection from others, even when they met as adversaries.

The third match was an easy victory for Dean. His opponent was limping heavily when he entered the arena and Castiel could see a bandage tied around the man’s leg, already stained with blood.

Dean could have dragged the match out; he could have taken the opportunity to show his superiority and beaten the other Alpha down. Instead, he blocked a few attacks from the other man and then quickly resolved the match. Despite the fact that he was only armed with a dagger, Dean quickly disarmed his opponent. He pressed the blade to the other Alpha’s throat, but Castiel could see that there was very little pressure behind it. Dean accepted the surrender with grace and shook hands again as they both retreated from the sands.

Castiel almost collapsed watching Dean’s fourth match. He had wanted to laugh when a female Alpha took the position opposite Dean but he should have known better. People assumed he knew little to nothing of military strategy or political intrigue because he was a male Omega, now he realised he had applied the same type of prejudice to the woman. He was wrong to do so.

She was the best of the fighters Dean had come up against so far. It should have been an immediate cause for concern that she had progressed to this level of the tournament and yet did not appear to be at all injured. Her fighting style was similar to Dean’s insofar as her gracefulness was concerned. She moved almost like water. Her weight transferred from foot to foot with an ease that Castiel had never seen before in even the most skilled dancers. Castiel had obviously underestimated her. Fortunately, Dean did not.

The brutality Dean had displayed during his first match was somehow more shocking when he directed it at a woman but Castiel chastised himself for the thought almost immediately. If a woman was prepared to enter the tournament and take on other Alphas, then she was more than capable of bearing the consequences.

Castiel’s thoughts were proven to be true when the match was over. Despite the fact that Dean had squeezed her throat and shaken her as a hunting dog would a pheasant, she got back to her feet with minimal trouble. She even pulled her lips back in a snarl, glaring at Dean’s back as he walked away. Castiel got the feeling that the female Alpha would have attacked Dean, had she thought she could get away with it. Since Dean was set upon by his friends the moment he reached them, Castiel doubted she would have had a chance.

This time, another man joined Dean and the blonde Alpha and Castiel felt his stomach clench unpleasantly. While the fight was going on, Castiel had not noticed the injuries Dean had been sustaining. His poor, poor Alpha was bleeding from multiple wounds.

As Castiel watched, Dean tilted his head back and the female Alpha poured something over the top half of his face. Castiel felt a sharp twinge somewhere is his chest as he watched Dean grit his teeth against the pain it caused him. He felt like a fool for not realising just how unpleasant this was going to be for Dean. When considering the tournament, even in terms of Dean and whether he could win, Castiel had never considered the physical damage that would result either way.

Even from this distance, Castiel could see that Dean was breathing heavily. The Alpha was still clenching his jaw against the pain of whatever alcohol had been poured over his face. Castiel watched him, feeling slightly frantic. He would have given anything to be able to go to Dean’s side at that moment. His Alpha was in pain and yet Castiel was forced to remain seated where he was for fear of his own father. He was somewhat relieved when the blonde woman spoke again and the Alpha opened his eyes; seeing Dean all but collapsed backwards with his eyes closed was disturbing to say the least.

Castiel allowed himself one deep breath before following Dean’s gaze across the arena. He was amazed to realise the penultimate fight had already finished. Dean and his opponent had fought for some time, at least a full ten minutes. This one had lasted less than three minutes.

The victor, and Dean’s final opponent, was a tall slender man with a pointed face. His expression reminded Castiel of some sort of rodent. He was sneering across the arena at Dean, utter loathing apparent on his face. His seemed too thin to be an Alpha, his shoulders and chest too narrow. Castiel shuddered, revulsion rolling through him.

He was not sure whether he found the Alpha so repellent because Castiel knew there was only ever supposed to be Dean or if there was something about the man specifically. He stared hard at the man and almost as though he had called aloud for attention, the unknown Alpha looked straight at Castiel. He knew his face was hidden but still, a tremor of loathing made its way down Castiel’s spine.

He had hated Uriel, there was no denying it, but he had tried to imagine himself somehow surviving their union if only for Anna’s sake. Now, as he looked at this Alpha, he knew he would rather be dead than spend one night in the bed of this pale, thin, rat of a man. Uriel wanted to own him and he had hated the Alpha for that. This man, he suspected, would want to hurt him.

With that realisation came another, equally horrifying. Castiel looked to his father and understood the truth of his suspicions immediately. The way the King looked at the Alpha…this was the man King Crowley intended him for. He fought the urge to scream, knowing it was no good.

Instead, he turned his attention back to Dean who was moving into the centre of the arena. His Alpha was moving smoothly but Castiel felt as though he was sharing the pain Dean was feeling. Blood stained his clothing in so many different places and all Castiel could do was pray that not all of it was the Alpha’s.

Dean stopped just short of the centre and Castiel realised it was because the unknown Alpha was taking his place too. The announcer stepped forward. He complimented both men on their prowess, their skill in battle. He declared them both noble fighters and wished them both good fortune in their final battle of the day. Dean dropped into a crouch instantly, assessing the other man; Lord Alistair, the announcer had said his name was Alistair.

Castiel repressed the shudder he felt at the sound of the man’s name and kept his eyes fixed on Dean. There seemed to be a great weight on his shoulders at that moment but there was also the relief of clarity. After months of not knowing what to do, everything seemed very clear suddenly.

Either Dean would win and Castiel would get everything he had ever wanted, as well as some things he had never known enough to want or Dean would lose. If Dean lost, Castiel knew he would not let Lord Alistair claim him. Anna would not even need to pack his things. He would do what he had to. Perhaps, if he was very, very fortunate he might be able to speak to Dean one more time.

His conviction did not stop him from flinching when Lord Alistair swung his sword. Dean lunged backwards out of range, his own teeth bared in a snarl. Castiel was beyond horrified to realise that while Lord Alistair wielded a sword, Dean was armed only with a pair of small blades. If he had needed more confirmation that King Crowley intended Lord Alistair to win the tournament, this would have done it. All day, Dean had been armed with lesser weapons than his opponents. The only exception being his second battle.

Castiel wished that he had paid more attention to the other battles. He had been completely absorbed in watching Dean all day. Still, he had a feeling that there had been more subterfuge than he had been aware of; there was no blood on Lord Alistair’s clothes, after all. Castiel watched as the thin Alpha swung the sword again and again at Dean. It brought Castiel’s heart up to his throat every time but after some long seconds had passed, he realised something: Dean did not look concerned.

The sword was swung at Dean’s face and he stepped to the side or bent backwards or dropped into a crouch. The sword was thrust towards Dean’s face and he somehow used the small daggers to bat it away. The sword was slashed at Dean’s legs and he hopped over it or simply shifted his leg out of range. Lord Alistair was still baring his teeth and every time Dean dodged his attacks his expression grew darker.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed more focused than he had at any other time today. Other than the first snarl he had let loose, Dean was in complete control. His lips were pressed together in a thin line and his eyes darted around his opponent’s body. Castiel watched as his Alpha seemed to predict exactly where the next attack was coming from allowing for a perfect counter manoeuvre. It was mystifying and led Castiel to watch more closely.

The bout continued but Castiel soon caught up with what was happening. Lord Alistair was a skilled fighter but he was not graceful and, more importantly, he was not subtle. After only the brief time Castiel had been watching, he could see for himself what Dean was looking for. Before every attack, Lord Alistair prepared himself to land the blow. When he intended to swing the sword low, he bent his knees long seconds before he actually attacked, his shoulders tensed visibly before he used them to swing high. Dean clearly knew enough about Lord Alistair to expect these actions and so he watched, carefully.

Castiel felt as though he was in danger of losing consciousness. It was impossible and yet it seemed like it might be about to happen right in front of him. Dean was in the last round of this ridiculous tournament and it seemed likely that he was going to win this bout too. His Alpha was going to be declared the victor and fate was finally going to smile down on both of them. The weeks they had spent apart suddenly seemed different in light of this; they seemed like a challenge that he and his Alpha had to face in order to be worthy of the happiness that Castiel knew they could find with each other.

He realised his fingernails were cutting into the flesh of his palms but he could not seem to stop. All he could do was watch as Dean twisted, pivoted and lunged on the field. Lord Alistair was flushed red in the face. It was difficult to hear much of anything beyond the roaring of the crowds in the stands but he suspected the thin Alpha was actually growling. Thin specks of spittle were flying from between the man’s teeth and when Dean batted the sword away, yet again, he could not seem to keep hold of his patience.

Lord Alistair continued stepping forwards even though Dean had pushed the sword aside. He seemed to be trying to bring it back into play by pushing against Dean’s block. Unless Castiel was very much mistaken, a small smile quirked the corner of Dean’s lips. His Alpha shoved hard and the sword moved away just a few more inches. Apparently, it was enough. One of Dean’s hands shot up and forwards and then there was a thick rivulet of blood running down Lord Alistair’s face.

From that first cut, the fight turned far more violent. Lord Alistair was beyond anger now and it was immediately apparent. He swung again and again, hacking and slashing and jabbing and not managing to land one blow on Dean.

Dean, paradoxically, seemed calmer. He stopped simply blocking the attacks being directed at him. The blows were still dodged and the sword still pushed away but now, Dean began to counter-attack each and every time.

Lord Alistair swung downwards towards Dean’s neck in such a way that had the blow landed, it might have been fatal. Dean side-stepped neatly and brought his hand down while Lord Alistair adjusted. Blood began to flow from a second cut, this time on the thin Alpha’s arm. Lord Alistair opened his mouth and let out a roar that even Castiel heard and aimed for Dean’s right leg. Dean did not bother to move his whole body. Instead, he simply lifted his leg clear and brought it back down again a second later while Lord Alistair was still mid-swing. This gave Dean time to lean towards Lord Alistair’s unprotected torso and slash upwards. Blood flowed again, this time from the left side of Lord Alistair’s chest. Castiel had stopped clenching his fists and was now gripping the arm rests on his chair.

Lord Alistair managed one more swing with the sword, this time aiming for Dean’s belly. He clearly intended to split Dean in half, but he was too slow. Dean allowed the sword to sail past him but this time was different than all the others. While Lord Alistair was off balance, Dean reached out towards the weapon and used both of the daggers to push downwards.

The move caught Lord Alistair off guard and the tip of the sword buried itself in the sand. Dean moved more quickly than Castiel had seen so far. His left foot came crashing down on the blade and the sword was wrenched out of Lord Alistair’s hands.

There was another roar but Castiel could not honestly tell who it had come from this time. Lord Alistair stood unarmed for less than a second before he threw himself at Dean. Castiel could not understand what the foolish man could be thinking. Dean was still armed, after all. He watched and for a moment, believed he was hallucinating when he saw Dean smile.

Arms and legs twisted and flailed. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening between the two men; their movements were so quick and abrupt. There was an audible hiss of annoyance and it was loud enough to drag Castiel’s attention away for a second. The King was watching the fight with almost as much tension in his body as Castiel, though not quite.

Deciding to ignore his father, Castiel turned his attention back to the fight. There was blood on the sand but there was no clue as to which Alpha had shed it. Castiel caught glimpses of Dean, the muscles of his arms straining, his teeth clenched as he fought. Castiel felt utterly helpless as he watched, unable to do anything but pray to the old gods and the new.

The movement on the sands stopped as quickly as it had started and Castiel’s stomach threatened to expel its contents as he realised that Dean was lying beneath Lord Alistair. It seemed too cruel. Dean had come so far in the tournament and fought so very hard. He had certainly been the best fighter and Castiel doubted there would have been any competition in this final match if the King had not been interfering in the draw.

Then, he saw it. His Alpha might be laying on the sand but Dean still held his hand up to Lord Alistair’s throat and in that hand, was one of the daggers. “Yield!” The word echoed round the arena as Lord Alistair conceded the fight to Dean.

If Castiel had been standing, he knew he would have collapsed to the ground. Dean was shoving Lord Alistair away and people were running onto the sands. Both Dean and Lord Alistair were quickly surrounded by their friends and allies. Castiel briefly noticed Lord Alistair being helped from the field but he cared nothing for the man. His attention was only for his Alpha, for Dean.

The blonde Alpha he had noticed earlier was first to reach Dean’s side but Castiel did not let it bother him. She could have a final moment with Dean if she wanted it. Dean belonged to Castiel and soon there would be nothing standing between them because Dean had won. Dean had won the tournament and Castiel’s hand. It was almost too much happiness to bear.

Castiel did not notice the King rising from his seat until he began speaking. “Dean of Winchester!”

Castiel watched as his Alpha stepped forward, a small smile playing about his lips. There was blood all over him, on his face and arms and legs but Dean did not limp or show any outward sign of being injured. “Your Majesty.” He inclined his head politely, but his spine did not bend.

“Well fought,” the King conceded. There was no trace of resentment in his tone, although Castiel knew his father must be furious. “Then again, the man who killed Uriel might have been expected to triumph here.” Dean said nothing. He just stared hard at the King. When it became clear that Dean would make no comment, the King turned. “Castiel, step forward.” Castiel got to his shaking legs and stepped to the King’s side, keeping one pace behind his father, as always. He tried not to trip over in his haste. The King waved a hand and Castiel hurriedly began to unpin the veil around his face. “Perhaps it is fitting, after all, that the man who took a husband provides one.”

Castiel was barely listening. He was too busy pulling the cloth from over his head. When he finally managed to tug it free of the pins he could not stop the smile that spread over his face. Dean blinked up at him from where he stood as though trying to clear his vision. It made Castiel want to laugh out loud but he restrained himself. “I am yours,” he said, proud that there was barely a tremble in his voice.

His Alpha stared up at him. Dean’s mouth dropped open with the shock. “No,” said a voice, but it was not Dean who spoke. Castiel looked up at his father, “Dean of Winchester has won you on behalf of his father, Lord John.”

Castiel looked back down at Dean. The Alpha was still staring up at him; he did not seem able to speak.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve
Dean had let himself be dragged from the sands as his friends clustered around him. He had to let them pull him away or Dean knew he would not have been able to stop staring at the Prince of Ireland and the horrified expression on the Omega’s face.

They cheered and applauded him. Words were spoken and questions were asked, he was almost certain of it. He ignored them all. He went with the flow of movement but only insofar as it brought him back to the tents they had set up for themselves. He had to get away.

He knew he should stay with them. In any other circumstance, his victory would call for a night of drinking and celebrating. Dean had won the lands of Lyonesse and their wealth would be shared among the Barons who had chosen to unite behind John of Winchester. It was a victory they could all share in and enjoy, knowing that it would benefit every one of them.

The winning of a prince should have been another great victory. After all, it would take them one step closer to a united Briton. Dean should be happy, at least as far as his friends were concerned. In truth, Dean did not seem able to feel anything. The pain that had taken up root inside of him since he had left Ireland for the first time was still there; Dean could feel it hibernating inside of him. He knew that when he felt it again, it would be worse because now…

He detached himself from his friends and retreated as quickly as he could to his own tent. Once inside he briefly considered stripping off his blood-stained clothes and bathing. Instead he stared down at the darkening red stains on his hands and threw himself down onto his bed. He was physically exhausted and he wanted to take advantage of it. He could not allow himself to think at this moment. His brain had not made sense of everything yet, and he was not inclined to let it begin.

If he did think, he would think of Michael who was not Michael. He would see the face of the prince he had won for his father. If he allowed himself to think any further, if he allowed himself to imagine handing over the prince to John of Winchester, Dean was afraid he might kill himself.

XXX

Dean watched the waves moving slowly, sluggishly. It seemed to reflect quite perfectly, how he was feeling today. He braced both hands against the bow of the ship and tried to enjoy the feeling of the slight wind on his face. He normally liked sailing, especially when the weather was as perfect as this. He wanted to enjoy something, anything. Today, he could not think of anything he would ever enjoy again.

When Jo had awoken him this morning, Dean had wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, he had listened as she gave him a full report. The summation of which was that everyone was accounted for, the prince had been delivered at dawn and the ships were almost prepared to take them home. Dean had told her to finish all preparations and send some men to help him dismantle his own tent quickly.

When Jo told him that Prince Castiel had requested his presence he could have bitten through a tree branch. It took everything he had to stop himself from screaming out loud. He saw the figure sat up in the stands during the tournament flash before his eyes but the image was quickly replaced. Bright eyes and swollen, red lips took shape. His Omega lying beneath him, writhing on top of him…

He told Jo to send his apologies to the Prince. He had tried very hard to keep his voice even but Jo had stared at him. Dean did not want to think about how his tent had probably smelled that morning, but knew that Jo would have noticed even if she did not understand its significance. He had felt her eyes on him multiple times as they prepared for their departure but he had determinedly avoided her gaze.

Now, as he stared over the water, for the first time in his life, Dean felt completely helpless. Before this trip, despite his pain and grief there had been at least the potential for hope. Dean could not find any hope in this situation. He felt tired and somehow ill, down to his bones. He had hoped that some sleep might help; that the passing of the night would provide answers that waking could not. It had not worked.

“Dean, please tell me,” Jo had come to stand close to his side.

For a long moment, Dean considered blurting out the whole truth and letting things unfold as they would. Unfortunately for him, a lifetime of responsibility stood in his way. The announcement had been made public when they sought the support of the Barons; John of Winchester would marry the Prince of Ireland and they would declare him King of a united Briton.

Even if those closest to him understood and supported him, it would not matter in the long run. Those like Lord Alistair and Lord Gordon, those who did not want to unite behind John of Winchester would have all the reason they needed to refuse their support. The fact that they themselves would not be able to deny their own True Mates would not matter. The justification would hold and the alliance would crumble. After all, if John of Winchester did not keep to his word, how could he be considered suitable as King?

Dean could not bring himself to look at Jo, “I had hoped this trip would make me feel better.”

“It has not?”

“No.”

“Dean, you have accomplished something truly great here. For the first time in living memory we will live in a united Briton. A place where
we can ensure our own safety. The timing is so, so perfect. King Crowley is weakened by the loss of his men and his General. This is our time.”

She sounded so happy and since Jo could not possibly know how much her words hurt him, Dean kept his face a calm mask. “I know.”

There was a silence and Dean knew Jo was frustrated with him, possibly angry with him and definitely concerned for him. Still, there was no comfort he could offer. He was relieved to hear someone clear their throat behind him, until he turned and saw Anna. Her small hands were twisting themselves together. She looked afraid, as though she expected Dean to growl at her. It was tempting.

Dean waited for her to speak but instead, Anna looked pointedly at Jo. He watched as Jo raised her eyebrows at the woman’s obvious reluctance to speak, but Dean interceded. “We will talk later, Jo. If you would excuse us.”

She took her leave and Anna sighed in relief. The Beta woman looked remarkably pale, especially in comparison to her vivid red hair. When she met Dean’s eyes he could tell that she had spent at least part of the morning in tears. A vicious part of him was glad; someone else should suffer too. “My Lord, Prince Castiel would like to speak with you.”

Dean wanted to rage at her. Just the mention of the name was enough to enflame his temper. Prince Castiel, son of the King of Ireland, the man who had lied to Dean since the moment they met. “I imagine that is the case,” he replied with a hint of a growl in his voice.

Anna waited but Dean remained silent. He refused to make this any easier for her. Finally, Anna tried again, “Please, Alpha, please would you speak with him?”

“I think it is best that I stay here,” Dean said. “And he stays there.” He did not know exactly why he was being so difficult. He knew he would have to speak to the Omega and preferably soon, but he was experiencing a dark satisfaction watching Anna’s discomfort.

“My Lord…” She begged but Dean cut her off.

“Is your name, Anna?” He demanded.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Then I know you better than I know him.”

Anna shook her head, for the first time looking at him with something other than fear; unless he was mistaken there was a hint of a reproach in her eyes. “That is not true,” she said quietly. Suddenly, Dean felt very childish.

He still believed he was entitled to be angry, beyond angry, but he was not so far gone that he could not see he was making a fool of himself. “Very well,” he said finally. He strode past Anna towards the rear of the ship, coming to a halt outside the door leading to the captain’s quarters. It had only seemed sensible to assign it to the Prince they were transporting. The fact that it had kept the man out of Dean’s sight was simply a bonus. He allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath and noticed that Anna was hovering at his elbow. He looked down at her, “I do not require your presence.”

“I thought…” Anna began, but Dean cut her off.

“You thought wrong. Stay here.” Anna let out a small sound and Dean could smell the distress radiating from her. He knew that he should care about that but it was too hard to summon up any genuine emotion on the subject. Deciding to at least pretend to be a normal, functioning Alpha, Dean did his best to speak to the woman calmly. “Your…prince is in no danger from me. You will wait here.”

Anna looked at him with wide eyes but eventually nodded her consent. Dean did not bother knocking on the door, simply pushing it open and stepping inside.

The scent of his Omega, of the man he had known as Michael, of his True Mate, hit Dean in the face with all the force of a hammer. Despite all of Dean’s resolutions, the urge to touch, to claim was thrumming through his body; it was all but rippling just beneath his skin.

Castiel – Dean decided that he might as well start using the Omega’s real name – was facing away from the door but he turned at the sound of it closing behind Dean. Blue eyes stared into green for long seconds and Dean felt his hands clench into tight fists at his sides. He seemed to have forgotten just how much Castiel appealed to him since their separation. Or rather, he had forgotten the reality of it, the memory had never weakened for a moment.

It was almost enough to make Dean cross the room and take the Omega in his arms but then, Dean remembered all the reasons why he could not. A terrible sense of injustice rolled through him. He was angry all over again and when he looked at Castiel he knew that a small part of him hated the Omega for…all of this. “Your Highness,” he said and inclined his head towards Castiel. He did not try to keep the sneer out of his voice.

If he had expected Castiel to rise to the bait, Dean was sorely disappointed. Instead, vivid blue eyes filled with tears which began to fall immediately. Castiel did not sob but Dean could smell the Omega’s pain filling the room. It went against everything he felt, but Dean refused to give in. He was afraid that if he touched Castiel he might not be able to let him go, not again.

Castiel’s lips pulled up in a small smile but it was entirely without humour. His cheeks were tear-stained. “You risked your life to give me to another man.”

Dean might have appreciated how ludicrous that was in any other situation. Now, he was barely holding his emotions in check and did not want to risk letting them loose. Instead, he simply fixed Castiel with a penetrating stare, “You told me your name was, Michael.”

“Oh, God. What have I done?” Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and again, Dean had to fight the urge to go to him. He could feel his fingernails biting into his palms but the pain seemed to be happening outside of himself. Dean was so intent on not moving closer to Castiel that he was taken aback when the Omega suddenly got to his feet and moved forwards. He almost retreated, afraid that Castiel’s touch might ruin everything but Castiel took no more than two steps before he stilled. “Dean, you must stop this.”

He knew immediately what Castiel meant but the conviction in the Omega’s voice only served to make Dean angry. He raised an eyebrow, “I must?”

Castiel nodded and more tears fell, “Yes, I belong to you. You know that.”

“I won you for my father, my King.”

“I am yours,” Castiel insisted.

“Michael was mine.”

Castiel gave him a look that almost made Dean blush. Even in his current state, Dean knew how juvenile that comment was. Still, he clenched his jaw and refused to back down. “Dean, be angry with me. You should be.”

“Gratitude for the permission,” Dean said.

“Dean…”

Abruptly, Dean was furious all over again. This time he was the one to take a step forwards and when he spoke, there was a trace of a growl in his tone. “I told you the truth about myself. I told you everything! I even told you about Sam, I…”

Castiel was shaking his head but he did not back away from the anger directed at him. “Dean, I know and I cannot find the words to tell you how sorry I am but please, do not let this anger blind you. You cannot mean for us to go through with this.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it cannot be maintained!” Castiel insisted, far too loudly. He took a moment to check himself before he continued in a lower tone. “You intend to live the rest of your life knowing your True Mate has been bonded to your own father?”

Dean ignored the flash of pain and let his nails bite further into his palms. “Your Highness…” He began, but this time it was Castiel that cut him off.

“Stop calling me that!”

“It is what you are!” Dean hissed, “It is all you are.” He hoped that if he said the words enough he might believe them. Perhaps if he could convince Castiel, it would be the first step.

Castiel did not seem to want to be convinced. He was shaking his head at Dean, “That is not true.”

“People spend their lives without their True Mate.” Dean pointed out.

Castiel looked at Dean with something close to pity, “It is one thing to marry someone you do not truly love; people have been doing it since time immemorial. It is something else entirely to marry one person when you know you belong to someone else. It is an act, an artifice that cannot be maintained.”

The flash of hatred Dean had experienced earlier suddenly came again and Dean allowed himself a small growl. Castiel took a half-step backwards, his eyes widening slightly. Dean would have been ashamed of himself under normal circumstances but now, he decided that shame was a luxury he could not afford. Instead, he pressed his advantage and claimed the step that Castiel had relinquished. Dean even bared his teeth a little, “You lied to me. You sent me away when I became inconvenient.”

Castiel was shaking his head, his shoulders were trembling and the tears had started to fall again. “I sent you away to save you from my father. He confronted me. He knew there was an Alpha and if he had discovered your identity he would have had you killed. He offered to forget it all if I told you I could not see you again. I had to make a choice.”

Dean brushed aside the revelation. It answered some of his previous questions but it changed nothing of the reality they now faced. He did not allow anything but his anger to show. “It was not only your choice to make.”

Castiel raised his chin slightly in defiance. “I made it to save you. I made it because I…”

“Stop this, now!” Dean demanded. He could not bear to listen to any more. He could not take the chance that Castiel might persuade him to change his mind. He could not allow himself to be so weak. “Your marriage and mating to my father will end years of bloody conflict. We will use your status to help declare my father the King and unite the tribes together. We will stand as one against your father and his soldiers and he will no longer be able to rape our weak and kill our young. Are you so selfish and entitled that you would put your own happiness above the well-being of a country full of people?”

Castiel opened and closed his mouth several times. He searched for words but there were none for long seconds. “Dean, please. We belong together.”

Castiel’s conviction caused such conflicting emotions inside of Dean that for a moment there seemed to be no air in the small cabin. The Alpha inside of him glorified to hear his Omega refer to them both collectively as ‘we’; to hear Castiel stake his claim over Dean was beyond any thrill he had ever felt. Unfortunately, it created nothing but pain and rage inside of the man who had already made his decision, however much it pained him. “You did this. You are responsible for this.”

“I did not know…”

“And it means nothing. We will live with this, because we have no choice.”

“This is madness.”

“Thinking I could come here and…” Dean could not even finish the sentence. It hurt him now to remember what he had hoped for out of this trip; he had sought the impossible. “That was madness.”

“Alpha, please…”

“Stop, just stop.” Dean turned to leave. He had to get away; perhaps if he made it outside the terrible pressure on his chest would ease and he would be able to breathe again.

Dean managed to take two steps before Castiel had grabbed the Alpha’s arm in both of his own. Dean yanked himself free immediately. Castiel staggered but seemed un-phased, “I did not know Dean, I swear it. How was I to know my father would give me away in a tournament? When I learned what he had planned, I hoped you would come.”

“What? So, I could give you to my father?” Dean asked, incredulous.

“It never even occurred to me that might happen.”

“You know I am my father’s second, that I fight for him.”

“Even if I had thought of that… You said that your father no longer helps Omegas in heat. Why would he want one for himself? Surely if he is too old to…”

Dean wanted to throw something, hard. He wished he was back on the sands. He knew, at this moment, that he could have fought and torn apart every Alpha who had competed single-handedly. “It was nothing to do with that. Lisa preferred me. My scent was more pleasing to her.”

“Alpha…” Castiel tried to plead again, but Dean had had enough. He knew he could not stand up to this much longer; he had to get out.

He turned cold eyes on Castiel’s tears and trembling lips. He refused to allow himself to care, “My father is your Alpha now, Omega.”

Castiel shook his head, almost frantically. “Dean, please…”

“No,” Dean growled and every inch of his Alpha suffused the word. Castiel gave a sob but bit his lip hard. “We will live with this,” Dean insisted.

When Castiel did not respond immediately, Dean took his chance and turned back towards the door. “How?”

Dean paused at the question but carried on outside after only a second. He might have answered if he had known what answer to give.

Chapter Text

Castiel tried to control the trembling, truly he did. Anna gripped one of his hands in both of hers but even she seemed to be unable to stop it. His hands, his arms, his feet, there even seemed to be tremors radiating through his belly. It was accompanied by a strong sense of nausea. He wished it would stop but saw no likelihood of it. Anna kept glancing his way but she had stopped trying to tell him that all would be well. Castiel had no idea how to feel about that; the fact that Anna had stopped offering him her reassurance, however fruitless, seemed ominous.

“How close are we, Anna?” He asked her the question even though he knew she was no more familiar with the surrounding area than he was.

“The woman, Joanna, said we would arrive around noon today.” Anna glanced out of the window at the sun, “Not much longer now, my prince.” Castiel swallowed hard and fought the urge to vomit. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself but it helped very little. If anything, the scent of his Alpha on the breeze only brought into sharper relief all he was about to lose.

He had been traveling in this wooden carriage with Anna for the better part of three days, but it was not until this morning that he had truly lost hope. It had all seemed so impossible. Dean was his Alpha, his True Mate, there was no chance such a bond could be ignored, Castiel had been sure of it. At least, he had been sure of it when they were crossing the sea.

His faith had not waned when they had landed on a deserted beach and made camp for the night. When they had collected horses, and set out for the first time, Castiel had been sure that at any moment Dean would come to him. He waited for it expectantly. When they made camp again, Castiel had watched from afar as Dean directed his companions in setting up the tents. It had been the first glimpse of his Alpha, Castiel had managed all day. Just the sight of Dean had made Castiel’s heart thump in his chest. He stood waiting and hoping that his Alpha would turn to him, look for him but Dean had not.

The second day on the road had passed the same way and Castiel had been almost frantic as he laid in his tent that night. Anna had crawled beneath the blankets with him and held him close. He had not realised he was sobbing until she had begun to comfort him with gentle sounds and touches. When the sun rose and the tents were packed away and they were on the road again, Castiel felt his hope draining away with every thump of the horses’ hooves.

Now, as he heard the first shouts that announced their arrival at D’Or, Castiel wanted to throw himself from the carriage and run. The only difficulty lay in the fact that there was nowhere to go. Since the day they had met, Castiel had wanted only to be by Dean’s side and now, in a way, he was. He had simply not imagined it being so very, very painful.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep breaths. He leaned back against the sides of the carriage, making sure he was out of sight. In a few moments, Castiel knew he would have to climb out of this carriage and once again, he would have to be the Prince of Ireland. For these seconds, he just wanted to be Castiel, the Omega who wanted his Alpha. “I will never leave you, my prince,” Anna promised quietly. “We will survive this together.” He opened his eyes and looked at her but there were no words he could think of. Instead, he just held her hand tightly.

When the carriage came to a stop, Anna nodded to Castiel and stepped out first. He allowed himself a full two seconds of solitude but knew that was all he could have. Pale sunlight shone through the open door creating a wide shaft of light. Castiel imagined that it would feel heavy on his skin, but it was a weight he knew now he could not escape. He straightened his shoulders and moved forwards into the light, stepping down from the carriage gracefully.

A man waited for him. There were others there too, but Castiel could not take his eyes away from the large Alpha he knew could be none other than John of Winchester. He could see the resemblance to Dean. They had the same jawline. They did not have the same eye colour but the shape and the brow were the same. Even their scents were similar.

Castiel allowed himself to take a deep breath and made sure his face remained a smooth mask. His betrothed’s scent did not repulse him in and of itself. In fact, had he met the Alpha, never having known Dean, it might have accorded him a pleasant surprise. Now, he could do nothing but compare it to the scent of his True Mate. There was the vaguest whiff of pine mixed into John of Winchester’s scent but it was wrong. It did not smell like Dean, that of fresh needles in Spring and Summer, but rather that of fallen needles that had lain on a forest floor long enough to begin turning brown.

Castiel wanted to wince and wrinkle his nose and turn away. Instead, he used every ounce of self-control to keep his own scent neutral and lowered his eyes submissively, fighting every impulse in his body. “Your Majesty,” he said politely, in greeting. “I am honoured to meet you.”
There was silence and Castiel waited, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. He wanted to look up and see what was happening but he fought the impulse. Until he knew more of the man who was to be his husband, Castiel knew it was better to remain reserved and cautious.

In the end, it was not a sight that prompted him to move. Rather, John of Winchester touched his jaw and applied gentle pressure. Castiel obeyed the prompting and looked into the Alpha’s eyes. “I am not yet King of Briton,” the Alpha said. “However, even when I am, you will not be required to bow your head to me, Prince Castiel.”

Castiel looked into brown eyes and could easily see the sincerity there. John of Winchester meant every word he was saying and Castiel realised that the similarities between the Alpha and his son ran far deeper than physical appearance. His betrothed was kind; he was a good man and a good Alpha. He would treat Castiel well, both as a husband and as an Omega. He could not have explained his conviction coherently to anyone else, but he knew that he was correct. The Alpha would do anything and everything in his power to ensure that Castiel was happy.

The realisation made Castiel want to fall to his knees and beg for the Alpha’s mercy. He did not see how he could stand to be mated to this man if he could not even be permitted to hate him. There had been no thought of John of Winchester as anything other than a vague idea; an obstacle that stood between Castiel and his heart’s desire. Now, he knew that he would be forced to get to know the man instead of the concept and he had to fight the urge to weep.

Instead, when John of Winchester offered his hand, Castiel took it and allowed himself to be turned in a circle. He hitched a smile onto his face and tried to meet the gazes of the various members of the crowd. The people of D’Or stared at him but no one seemed hostile. If anything, they seemed eager to see him, perhaps even eager to approve of the man who would be the mate of their chosen King. The looks were curious and the smiles wide.

“Prince Castiel of Ireland,” John announced. “He is one of us now. He has come to our shores bravely and we will make him welcome in his new home.” The crowd erupted into enthusiastic cheers. Castiel stretched his facial muscles into a smile. He would have been so pleased with this welcome under other circumstances.

His smile almost wavered when his eyes landed on Dean. His Alpha watched, but there was no smile; there were no cheers. Dean’s green eyes were fixed on him and when their gazes met, Castiel found it impossible to look away.

In the end, it was only John tugging on his hand that allowed him to turn on his heels and follow the Alpha inside. He was led through the halls of D’Or with Anna keeping close behind him. Her presence afforded him little comfort. The temptation to look over his shoulder and see if Dean was following felt almost like an itch under his skin. Instead, he nodded at polite intervals and tried to pay attention to his betrothed’s conversation.

The older man was talking about the castle and the history attached to it. In other circumstances, Castiel might have found it very interesting, particularly as D’Or was to be his home. Unfortunately, it was everything Castiel could do to keep his face fixed into an expression of polite interest.

The future King of Briton led him into a large hall and directed him to sit. It was only after others began filing into the room that Castiel realised his chair was on a raised dais and that he had been placed on John of Winchester’s right hand. He might have found that flattering but Dean chose the moment of Castiel’s realisation to enter the room. He strode forward and immediately took a place to the left and just behind his father’s chair. Castiel could not look at his Alpha subtly; he would have been forced to crane his neck at an uncomfortable angle just to get a glimpse. So, he took a deep breath and faced forwards as the Barons of Briton approached one at a time to offer their greetings.

XXX

Dean had had too much to drink. He was leaning heavily against Jo’s shoulder and she was doing everything she could to support his weight subtly. Although Dean knew he would pay for this indulgence come the morning he still lifted his cup again and drank deeply. “Dean.” Jo’s voice carried a strong thread of warning but Dean ignored her. His vision was finally beginning to blur slightly and he needed it; how he needed it.

The feast to celebrate the arrival of the Irish prince, and his betrothal to John of Winchester, had begun at sun-down and every moment of it had been a battle. In fact, every moment since Dean had spoken to Castiel on board that accursed boat had been a battle. The temptation to go to his Omega and take back everything he had said was so strong. It felt as though a hook had been pushed through his chest and was being yanked by the scent he could not escape.

Dean had felt the weight of Castiel’s eyes again and again as they travelled. The weight of his Omega’s expectation and the bitterness of his own denial seemed beyond what could be tolerated. Dean had drunk himself into a stupor every night of their journey and he did not plan to stop now that they had returned. It was the only way to dull the pain. Of course, his Alpha status necessitated the consumption of vast quantities to allow him to stupefy himself but it seemed more than worth it.

Jo had not asked him any more questions but Dean would have to have been blind not to notice her watching him closely. He appreciated her forbearance in not forcing the issue but he doubted she would be able to maintain it forever. The concern was rolling off her in waves. He could have walked away from her at any point, of course, but it felt like a bad idea. Jo was the only thing holding him together, both literally and figuratively.

She had stayed as close to him as possible during the extending greetings that followed their arrival. She had not allowed any awkward silences to develop as the story of the tournament was relayed to their family and friends, filling any gaps with flattering commentary on his bouts. She had made his excuses, allowing him to leave everyone to their business, citing a rough trip and Dean’s needing rest to recover from the injuries he sustained fighting for Castiel.

Now, she was manhandling him to his feet and Dean obeyed her silent command without question. He was drunk enough for now. He allowed himself to wonder if Castiel’s eyes were on him but did not dare look. If he met those blue eyes, there was a chance Dean would throw himself across the hall, consequences be damned. He could not risk it.

His vision grew foggier and he lost all sense of time as Jo maneuvered him through the halls of his home. Since they were out of sight of others, he allowed himself to lean on her more heavily. He was still aware enough to know that he could not take care of himself at that moment. Fortunately, he knew he could trust Jo to do it for him. She was speaking quietly close to his ear, but he could make no sense of her words. Still, the sound of her voice brought him as much comfort as anything possibly could.

He allowed himself to bask in it. He was beginning to suspect that there would be no true relief nor respite from the pain. He would simply have to live with it; as he had told Castiel they must. If Jo could bring about even an incremental decrease in the agony he was experiencing, Dean knew he would be a fool to ignore it.

His back hit his bed before he realised he was falling. Jo was breathing heavily, leaning close to his face and Dean realised she was wrestling with the coverings that were trapped beneath his body. “If you would just…lift…your hips for a moment…”

He wanted to help her so he tried to move but it seemed to require more effort than he was capable of expending. If Jo’s quiet chuckles were any indications, his attempts were pitiful. “Apologies…” Dean mumbled.

“Yes, I know. You great big, useless thing.” He allowed his mind to drift as Jo went about her business. Even when she began to remove his clothes, he was not able to move to help her. “You reek of horse, Dean.” She mumbled.

“Was riding a horse, Jo.”

“Yes, I know.”

Time passed but Dean did not know how much. Only when cold air hit his skin did he realise that Jo had managed to get him down to his small clothes. Her scent filled his nose as she leant over him again, this time to tuck the bedding around his body. It was a comforting and familiar smell. It made him think of the last time they had been this close; after the battle in the woods when he had killed Uriel and she had let him scent her. She was family and pack and home and everything good and suddenly, Dean needed that so much he would have doubled over had he been on his feet.

Jo was straightening up when Dean reached out and wrapped a firm hand around her wrist. “Why, Jo?” Dean managed to open his eyes with some difficulty but was pleased to realise the room was not spinning.

Jo was looking down at him with a small frown on her face. He tugged gently at her wrist and she perched next to him on the bed, obeying
the silent request. “Why? Would you care to be a little more specific?”

Dean looked up at her face; it was a truly beautiful face. He had watched Jo over the years and been pleased to see her turn from a gangly pup into a spectacular young woman and an impressive Alpha. Yet, somehow it had not precluded him from seeing her still as a child.

His knowledge of her as a woman was entangled with his knowledge of her as a pup. He remembered her learning to fight. How, when she was a little older, she had shown Sammy how to throw a punch. How he had laughed when she had pounced on a boy who had mocked Sammy for listening to a girl. How, once, when Ellen had sent her to stay with them, she had crawled into his bed during a particularly bad storm and whimpered quietly with both arms wrapped around one of his.

Still, the fact remained that Jo was no longer a pup, she was a woman. Dean took a deep breath. Apples and honeysuckle surrounded him. He knew that he would be able to find comfort in that scent for the rest of his life. Perhaps he was even more of a fool than he realised. “Why not you and me?” He asked, finally.

Even in his drunken state, he could not but see the way Jo raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. “Dean…”

He could almost hear the next words Jo would speak but he cut her off before she had the chance. “It should be you and me,” he insisted.

“In theory, perhaps, but…”

“Why not, Jo?” He used his free hand to push himself up into a half-sitting position. “I think you wanted me once.”

Jo flushed and fixed him with a stare. It was not something Dean had ever commented on before. In fact, it was something he had always gone out of his way to ignore. Her childhood infatuation with him had been somewhat mortifying at the time and he had been relieved when it had passed. At the time, it had seemed as though Jo herself was more pleased than anyone to be free of such an awkward preference. If Dean had not been still quite drunk, he would not have considered mentioning it. Jo patted his chest gently and made to get to her feet, “When we were small children and you were the big impressive Alpha, perhaps. Unfortunately, your interest lay in my mother, then.”

The reminder of his own youthful fixation should have been enough to divert Dean but he tugged on her wrist again and she stopped struggling to be free. “Jo…” Dean could hear the plea in his own voice which meant that Jo could certainly hear it too. He was not sure what he was asking for, specifically, but he needed something, anything to distract him from the pain he had been in for so long.

It was growing worse by the minute; the knowledge that there would never be any respite from it made it that much harder to bear. He tugged on her wrist again and Jo let herself be pulled forwards. “Dean…” He ignored the warning and pressed their lips together.

The kiss lasted only a second before Dean broke away and looked into Jo’s blue eyes. He released his grip on her wrist and instead, stroked his fingers through her hair gently, “Jo, please. We could be good together.” He kissed her again, harder this time and she let him. Her body was soft and pliant, so different from how Jo was in everyday life, and she moulded to his chest very well. “See, we could be. I know we could be,” Dean insisted. He was breathing more heavily and when Jo touched his chest gently, Dean took it as permission to proceed.

The sluggish, drunken feeling dissipated a little more as he reached for Jo’s slender waist with both hands. She did not try to stop him from tugging her forwards and to the side, wrestling slightly with her until it was Jo lying on her back. Dean braced himself above her and kissed her again and again. He wanted to bury himself in the scent of apples and honeysuckle until he forgot about the pain. He needed something to distract himself from the agony.

Careful to keep his full weight off her body, Dean reached down and found the edge of her dress. It was made of a thick, warm material; it was very unlike most of the dresses worn by the other women but for Jo, it was perfect. He had always admired her refusal of frippery. It was part of what made her Jo; it made her the woman Dean loved most in the world. She was his sweet, kind sister.

Dean’s hand froze as he realised he was sliding his hand up the thigh of the woman he had considered his sibling since they were both pups. He opened his eyes fully for the first time since he had kissed her. Blue eyes peered up at him and the trust he could see there made him realise what a low, disgusting creature he was. Dean choked back a sob, trying to hide the sound from Jo. It did not help; his shoulders shook anyway. “Jo, I…” He tried to breathe but his chest pained him profoundly.

Dean did not know how to finish the sentence. She should hate him for this. She should pick up a blade and cut him. An Alpha did not do this. An Alpha did not hurt their family, they protected their family. He felt a hand stroke his cheek and Dean looked down at her again, focusing on her face. She was smiling gently. If anything, it made Dean feel worse.

Jo huffed out a small humourless laugh and brought a hand down to touch his where it still rested on her thigh. “If my body will comfort you, Dean, you may have it. If I thought, for one moment, it would cure you of the pain you are in, I would give it gladly.” She squeezed his fingers between hers, threading their hands together, “But I do not believe you will find your solace between my legs.”

Her kind words, her gentle speech, was worse than her rage or anger would have been. This time, Dean was unable to cover the sobs that immediately began hitching in his chest. “Jo, I…I am…”

“Dean,” Jo guided his hand from her thigh and pushed her dress back into place, apparently satisfied that Dean was back in his right mind. “Tell me what is wrong, or do not tell me. But, please, please, tell me how to help you.”

“Jo…”

“Come here.” Dean felt pressure on the back of his head and let Jo guide his face to the crook of her neck. Her scent was laced with concern and sadness and Dean could not bear the thought that he was the reason it was there. In addition to every other failure, he had made her heart ache for him.

He could not stop the tears this time. He all but collapsed on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist again but this time, he buried himself in her scent and let himself cry. Jo made small comforting noises in his ear. Her fingers stroked through his hair with a gentleness Dean had not known she was capable of. Long minutes passed by but the sobbing seemed to take forever to peter out. By the time, Dean was able to take a steady breath his chest was aching and Jo’s neck and hair were soaked with tears.

He could see everything before him again. His father touching Castiel, strong fingers touching delicate skin, cautious blue eyes peering into brown. It had almost broken him then and there. Dean had wanted to hurt his father at that moment. He had wanted to fly across the courtyard and wrench John’s arm from his shoulder. The site of another Alpha laying claim to Dean’s True Mate, however gently… It was too much. He did not see how he could survive it day after day. He would surely lose his mind.

“I need to get away from here, Jo.” He managed to say, finally, his face still buried in her neck. “I cannot stay.”

“Very well, Dean. Then you must come with me.”

XXX

Chapter Text

Castiel smiled at the market seller. Pamela’s lavender was the best to be found in D’Or or anywhere else that Castiel had been. Even leaving aside the medicinal benefits, the scent that came from the plants had advantages all of its own. He bought as much as he could fit in his basket, pleasing Pamela immensely, and departed for the castle with a small smile on his face and Anna by his side. Sometimes, Pamela would look at him strangely or with concern in her eyes, but she never asked why he needed so much of the purple herb and he was grateful for it.

Holding the basket in the crook of his elbow, Castiel extracted a few stalks of lavender from the bundle and threaded them through the toggles of his cloak. It would do little until Castiel had pressed the plant and extracted the oil within, but it was better than nothing. He offered a piece to Anna, who accepted with a smile. “It has been a long time since such a handsome man offered me a flower.”

Castiel bowed his head to her, “Then, I shall make a habit of it.”

“Too kind, my prince. Too kind.”

People called out greetings to them as they made their way through the crowds and he responded with waves and words and smiles. It had been strange to him, at first, how easily he had been accepted here. It could have been a reflection of the fear John of Winchester inspired; if their future King demanded they accept Castiel then his people had no choice. However, it had not taken a day for Castiel to realise that John, as the Alpha insisted Castiel call him, did not rule that way. Quite simply, his people loved him. Rather than being forced to accept Castiel, they genuinely welcomed him. They were curious about him and his former home in Ireland and eager to approve of him.

Some of the other Barons seemed less pleased with his betrothal but Castiel recognised most of them from the tournament and it was easy to reconcile their disapproval with jealousy. The man identified as Lord Alistair was certainly the most unpleasant but he had not spoken to Castiel beyond an insincere welcome and Castiel did not mind ignoring pointed looks. The other Barons had left D’Or after a few days leaving Castiel alone with his new people and everyone else seemed pleased with his presence; or almost everyone else.

Dean had also left quickly, within two days of their return to D’Or, travelling with Jo to her home of Harvelle with some vague excuse about their valued allies needing his help in training warriors. Castiel did not know if the Alpha’s absence was a good thing or not. It was certainly easier pretending to be content when he did not run the risk of encountering Dean at any hour of the day. On the other hand, Castiel could not escape the feeling that he had forced Dean from his home and family, however unintentionally.

Castiel had felt his heart ache as he watched the whole party leave D’Or early in the morning, two days after their initial arrival. He did not want Dean to leave, but he had to admit he could see the wisdom in the decision. The first night at D’Or, sat at John’s side, watching Dean become more and more intoxicated had almost broken his heart. He had felt only the barest flicker of jealousy as Jo almost carried the Alpha from the room; he had been glad that Dean had someone who would help him. It had taken all of his resolve, and the memory of Dean’s words, to stop him crossing the hall and throwing himself to his knees before his Alpha.

He had lain awake that night and attempted to steal himself against years of such torture. Then, he had been informed of Dean’s imminent departure. The conflict within him had been painful but it was almost as though he could read Dean’s mind; the Alpha could bear it with no more ease then he, himself.

John had not been satisfied by his eldest son’s explanations. Even with his limited knowledge of the Alpha, Castiel could see that John desperately did not want Dean to leave D’Or. All that Dean had told Castiel in Ireland seemed to fit neatly around the older Alpha’s concern and from a purely objective stand-point, it made sense. Dean was the strength that backed up John’s words and after seeing the tournament, Castiel understood why. Without a clear understanding of the situation, John must find Dean’s wish to leave incomprehensible. He had tried to reason with his son and had gotten dangerously close to losing his temper, but in the end John had conceded and allowed Dean to go.

They had not exchanged words before Dean had left. Castiel knew he had no right to expect Dean’s attention but it still caused him yet more pain. John had noticed the scent, of course. It was yet another curse that went along with being an Omega. Castiel could manipulate his own scent to appease of comfort others, however that was easier to do when he himself was content. He could disguise his pain for the most part but having to do so constantly was exhausting and not truly possible.

That truth had led him to Pamela.

Sam of Winchester directed Castiel to the blind woman when asked about healers within D’Or. Pamela had been delighted to learn of Castiel’s interest and skill in the art. She was eager to talk to him and share her knowledge, particularly when he offered his own in exchange. He had explained to her that he wanted the lavender for its calming properties and Pamela had understood. She had reached for, and squeezed, his hand sympathetically. Her assurances about John’s character were kind but unnecessary, Castiel had already formed his own, favourable, opinion of the Alpha. He appreciated the sentiment, though.

He began using the lavender to produce oil the day he obtained it. The scent was strong enough to disguise his own discomfort. John had noticed it immediately and Castiel had seen a vague frown cross the Alpha’s features. However, when Castiel had mentioned in passing that he had obtained his favourite fragrances from Pamela, John made no comment. Castiel did not know if John’s tolerance for the pungent herb would last, however he was willing to enjoy the boon for as long as possible.

The Alpha’s kindness seemed unending. Castiel suddenly had freedoms he had never enjoyed before. He was permitted to roam D’Or and the castle without restraint. He and Anna spent many hours exploring the woods within the walls of the town. It was so very different to what he had been used to in Ireland and he enjoyed making comparisons. He felt freer there than he had at any other time in his life. He found a small amount of comfort in the idea that he would be able to find refuge, if not happiness, in the peace the woodland afforded him.

John also encouraged both Castiel and Anna, to interact with the local people and spend time with them as he liked. Castiel had always been kept apart from his own people; his father had been determined to maintain not only his purity but an air of mystery. John of Winchester seemed to care nothing for such affectations, preferring Castiel to become a part of the community. John had even offered to procure things for Castiel’s amusement, asking if the Omega enjoyed needlework or would like to take advantage of the books Sam so loved.

Castiel had spent quite some time in the company of the youngest member of the family. It was hard to do so, at first, without picturing the look on Dean’s face when he spoke of his brother. Over the weeks that had passed, however, Castiel had developed his own liking for the boy. Samuel was bright, curious and fascinated by all in the world that he did not understand. Castiel enjoyed discussing the things they read about together. He found some solace in being close to Sam. He did not fully understand it, but Dean loved Sam and so, Castiel wanted to love Sam also. He was fortunate that the boy made it so very easy.

Castiel rubbed a stalk of lavender between his fingers as he made his way towards the castle gates. The guards on duty waved to him and Anna as they passed, smiling more broadly that usual. He accepted their greetings and continued on his way, trying to discern the reason for their cheer. “Is there a festival today we have not heard about?” He asked Anna.

She shrugged, but Castiel could see her looking around curiously. There seemed to be more people milling about the courtyard than usual and Castiel peered at the faces, searching for someone with whom he was familiar enough to ask for news.

Instead, there was a sudden impact around his mid-section that knocked the air from his lungs. Castiel looked down to see a mop of brown hair just beneath his chin. Brown eyes with small flecks of green peered up at him. They were crinkled at the edges as Sam’s face was stretched into a smile. Sam had never embraced Castiel to date, but the experience was very pleasant. He returned the smile he was being offered, “Is everything well with you, Sam?”

Sam’s smile widened, “Dean is home.”

Castiel felt every muscle in his body seize. He wanted to yank himself away from Sam and begin a frenzied search until he located his Alpha. At the same time, he wanted to flee from the courtyard and beg Pamela to take him in until he could exert some control over himself. He did neither.

Instead, he patted Sam gently on the shoulder and tried to stop the smile on his face from looking forced, “You must be very pleased. I am sure your father will be delighted at the news.”

Sam released his hold on Castiel’s waist, bouncing in place happily. “Perhaps there will be a feast tonight.”

“Perhaps,” Castiel said.

Movement to Castiel’s left caught his attention. He had been trying to focus simply on Sam, but a familiar scent had begun to tickle his nose and it was close enough that he could be forgiven for not ignoring it. Castiel looked up and for the first time in almost two months, Dean stood before him.

The young Alpha said nothing but he offered Castiel a polite smile and an inclination of his head in greeting. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” Dean said, stiffly nodding at Anna in turn. “I could hardly stay away and miss your wedding, now could I?” Castiel felt his stomach clench. His wedding to John was due to take place in just less than three weeks. He had wondered if Dean would be attending, but had resisted the urge to ask, unable to think of a way to do so subtly. Dean turned to Sam, “Would you please go and announce my arrival to father?”

Sam nodded, cheerfully. “He will be so pleased, Dean.”

Dean smiled down at his younger brother. Castiel had missed the sight of Dean smiling almost more than he could bear. “I hope so.”

“I will accompany you,” Anna declared. She looked at Sam, “If you will have me? I should get the flowers inside.” Sam gallantly relieved Castiel of the basket and offered Anna his other arm. Together they made their way towards the castle, leaving Dean and Castiel alone.

Castiel wondered if he should drop his eyes but a surge of longing swept through him. He had spent weeks trying to force down every emotion regarding Dean but faced with the man himself, he found he could not look away. He tried to find the words to explain what he had been feeling since they had met each other again and subsequently parted, but none seemed fitting. Instead, he settled on a simple banality, however true. “You…have been missed.”

Dean blinked. There had been a trace of a frown marring his features but now, it faded. “Everyone has survived my absence it seems.”

Castiel waited, but Dean did not continue. He would have been content to simply stare at Dean for as long as it was permitted but he could not ignore the strangeness of such a thing from an outside perspective. He searched for another topic, “Was your training of the Harvelle troops fruitful?”

Dean’s lips quirked up in a smile again, but there was no humour or true pleasure this time. “Do you truly believe I left to train soldiers?”

Castiel found himself irritated by Dean’s attitude. “Do you wish to discuss the real reason for your departure?” He asked, not a little tartly.

To his surprise, Dean did not flinch at the tone. Instead, he just peered at Castiel with as his expression evened out again. “Sometimes.”

It sounded like a confession and Castiel felt his ire dissolve. “Dean, I…”

Dean turned away from him, clearing his throat, “I must speak with my father.”

“Very well,” Castiel fell into step behind him without another word.

Dean paused and looked over his shoulder, clearly surprised that Castiel was following him. “Will you be present at the meeting?”

Castiel realised that Dean would not be aware of what had been happening in his absence. “Your father has been insistent on my presence at all meetings. He believes I should become acquainted with everything regarding life here.”

Dean turned to continue his way, this time not hesitating when Castiel followed behind him. “I suppose I qualify in that regard.”

He hated the idea of being in a room with Dean and John again, let alone including Sam in the party too. Sam could be oddly perceptive for one so young and it seemed like an unnecessary risk. “I could avoid this meeting, if you would prefer it.”

“To what purpose?” Dean asked. The question seemed like a challenge but there was no trace of it in Dean’s tone. If anything, he sounded a little desperate. Castiel could understand. He was to be John’s husband. There would undoubtedly be many occasions when they would have to be in the same room together. It would be best to grow accustomed to it, yet Castiel could not imagine how he could possibly manage such a thing. They made their way to the hall surrounded by an awkward silence. Dean paused when they reached the door and took a deep breath, “Shall we?”

Castiel was about to nod his agreement when something gave him pause. He hesitated and took a deep breath. It had been his intention to avoid doing so around Dean; there was no sense in torturing himself with what he could never have again. Instead, he allowed himself to do so. Dean’s scent was…off. He smelled unhappy but it was not strong…yet, it was pervasive, as though it had been there for some time. Castiel peered at him curiously trying to understand the change, “Alpha…”

Dean did not look at him again, “My father will be waiting.” He pushed open the door and let Castiel lead the way inside.

XXX

Dean carefully applied one drop of the yellow-ish oil to the underside of his tongue. It had proven to be relatively successful today but Dean did not enjoy the taste at all. The smell was equally unpleasant, reminding Dean of unwashed feet or strong cheese.

Jo had taken him to see their resident healer, Charlene at his request. Jo had also managed not to ask too many questions, although Dean could tell that she was desperate to do so. Charlene had assured him of her discretion and Dean had found himself believing her. He had not told her the whole truth, simply that he was having difficulty controlling his instincts when around a certain woman in his home town and needed something to make the situation more manageable. Charlene had cautioned against repeated use of the drug she called Valerian but when Dean insisted, had provided him with several vials.

Charlene’s concern in providing the drug was obvious but Dean made it clear that mating the ‘woman’ or someone else to mitigate the situation was not a viable option. Perhaps, Charlene was naturally sympathetic or perhaps she had read something of Dean’s desperation in his face or voice. Either way, she had promised to keep a supply of the drug available should Dean return to Harvelle for more.

Dean had known that running away from D’Or was not a long-term solution. Even if he had wanted to stay away, there was Sammy to consider. He could not abandon his brother, not matter what the reason. Additionally, there was no possibility of his father letting him go without a reasonable explanation or a serious argument. So, Dean had needed to find a solution of some sort. This was the best he could do for now.

The oil had done little to control his feelings when he laid eyes on his…on Castiel, but he had been able to keep his expression placid and his instincts under control. He had noticed Castiel looking at him oddly once or twice and wondered what the Omega was picking up from his scent, but comforted himself that it was no one’s concern but his own; there was no one who had the right to demand answers from him, however much Dean wished the opposite was true. It made sense that if anyone would notice a difference it would be Castiel. Omega’s tended to be most sensitive to scents anyway.

Dean collapsed backwards onto his bed as he waited for the full effects of the drug to take hold. He had tried it for several days before returning to D’Or and it had always been successful at pushing him into a deep sleep within minutes. It was exactly what he needed tonight. Just seeing Castiel had been hard enough, the scent of the Omega on the air had… Well, the truth was that Dean had considered sweeping Castiel onto his horse and riding away from D’Or forever.

He clenched his eyes closed tightly and willed the drug to work more quickly. Charlene had been very clear that Dean should not take more than one drop in the morning and one at night. Thus far, Dean had had no reason to disregard her advice but tonight he had to keep reminding himself that he had no expertise in remedies and he should obey her instructions lest he become addicted or make himself unwell.

Sighing with frustration Dean got to his feet and spent several minutes pacing his room. He needed to sleep. It had been a long ride from Harvelle and sleep on the road was rarely good sleep. Apart from anything else, he needed to attempt to stick to his routine now that he was back in D’Or. It had been easy to establish a regular list of activities while in Harvelle.

While there, he had risen with the sun and engaged in some sort of strenuous activity. True to his word to his father, Dean had attempted to pass on his fighting skills to their allies. He worked with Jo and her men for several hours each morning and found it quite satisfying. It would not be true to say that he had not thought of Castiel while training the men, rather that he could not indulge completely in his sorrow while someone was swinging a sword at him. He would dismiss the men when the sun reached its zenith and have lunch with Jo, and sometimes with Ellen, too.

In the afternoon, Dean had worked in the town and its surrounding areas, helping wherever he could. Most of the people who lived in Harvelle, like those who lived in D’Or, had their own families, homes, and farms to support and so were only able to help their neighbours when their own work was completed. Dean was a free and very efficient worker. He rallied some of the younger boys and carried out work and repairs he saw as necessary in the lead up to winter. He repaired walls and roofs and animal pens. He fetched and carried and chopped and lifted until his arms screamed with pain. He even salted and pickled and stored food for the families that needed it, his mother having ensured that he knew how to do such things from a young age.

The people were very grateful for his help. He was always assured a warm welcome and a meal in thanks for his efforts. It never occurred to them that Dean might have a selfish motive and he never disabused them of their assumptions. Instead, he gratefully collapsed into his bed exhausted each night and slept as much as his dreams would allow him.

It was, at least in part, the dreams that had led him to Charlene. They were all different and yet they were all the same. Castiel was in every single one and always just beyond Dean’s reach. Sometimes the Omega would be standing by John’s side, smiling graciously at Dean as though he was just another Alpha come to pay obeisance to the court. Sometimes he would look at Dean longingly from a window or a battlement or from atop a horse. Sometimes his face would be wet and he would plead with Dean to be accepted. Those were the worst dreams, as Dean inevitably brushed the Omega aside. It reminded Dean too strongly of the day on board the boat they had sailed to Briton and Castiel had begged for something to be done.

Dean continued to pace the room in agitation. He had thought often about the last time he and Castiel had spoken to together, honestly, and everything he had said. Sometimes, it was as clear as it had been then; there was no other choice and nothing that Dean could do. At other times, Dean could not help but wonder what would have happened if he had returned to Briton and dragged his father aside before anything could happen. Perhaps he could have explained that Castiel was his True Mate and perhaps, perhaps, his father would have understood.

In his more rational moments, Dean knew it would never have been that simple. Lord Alistair would have been delighted to use the revelation as a chance to discredit his father’s position. Few would have followed but it would probably have been enough to de-stabilize the already fragile situation. Still, the thought tortured him anyway.

Dean sighed heavily and wished there was something in the room he could drink to dull his senses. Charlene had recommended against the consumption of liquor with drug she had given him, but at this moment Dean knew that he would cheerfully take the risk. Agitated beyond all possibility of sleeping, Dean wrenched open his door and made his way through the dark passageway.

He had sometimes walked the halls in the past when sleep was elusive. It had, on occasion, provided him relief and helped him finally rest when he returned to his bed. Dean made his way to Sam’s room and listened carefully at the door. The sound of his brother’s deep breathing was comforting. If there was anything he was truly glad to return to, it was Sammy. His younger brother’s obvious pleasure had brought a genuine smile to Dean’s face. It had lasted at least three seconds before the sight of Sammy hugging Castiel had banished all joy from the vicinity. Even Sammy was allowed more contact with Castiel than Dean himself.

Dean did not bother to delude himself. He might have been able to rage and storm at Castiel, claiming that ‘Michael’ was the one Dean wanted, but he knew the truth. It would not have mattered if Castiel had no name at all, Dean would still want the Omega. He wanted to own the man and be owned in turn.

Hating himself for his petty jealousy, Dean continued his walk along the halls until an odd fragrance tickled his nose. It took him no time to recognise it as the same scent that had been all over Castiel this afternoon. It belonged to a common purple herb that Dean had encountered many times but never in such a concentrated fashion.

When Dean had known Castiel as Michael, in Ireland, the Omega had not worn a fragrance of any kind. There had not even been any evidence of a scented soap on his skin or clothes. He had tried to dismiss the thought, but Dean could not help but wonder what Castiel’s purpose could possibly be in dousing himself in such a way. It had been somewhat difficult to discern Castiel’s true scent beneath the artificial mask and Dean could not help but wonder if that, in fact, was the purpose.

If it was, it had done little good where Dean was concerned. It might have taken a moment longer than it would have, but Dean could still find the Omega beneath it. He wondered if his father had noticed the sadness that pervaded the air around Castiel; Dean doubted it. Any Alpha would feel the urge to provide comfort if their Omega was in distress and John showed no signs of true concern. Perhaps the older Alpha was simply not as sensitive to Castiel’s scent as Dean was. Perhaps he did not realise it’s meaning, given that Castiel had not smelled any other way since they met. Dean was ashamed to realise that he was glad that John had never known what Castiel smelled like when he was truly happy.

Dean paused in his walking and glanced up. There was a door to his left that led to a room that was usually unoccupied. Guests had used it before, but there were no guests currently residing in the castle. Now, Dean knew, the room housed Castiel. Apparently, his feet had simply carried him in the direction of the Omega’s room without his consent. Dean searched his intentions, trying to decide if any part of his consciousness had chosen to come to this door but he did not believe it to be the case. He had simply caught the scent of the flowers in the hallways and turned, automatically, in this direction.

He warred with himself for long moments. He knew what he wanted to do and knew that he would not do it. Therefore, the question became what, if anything, would he allow himself to do? Could he step closer to the door and listen to the sound of Castiel breathing? Surely, if he checked on Sammy in that way, he could allow himself to do the same for the Omega? Dean vacillated for long seconds as he tried to dissuade and convince himself in the same thought process.

Dean knew that he should not allow himself any leeway at all. He should maintain as much distance as he could between himself and the Omega at all times. He should spend exactly as much time in Castiel’s company as he absolutely had to, but enough to ensure that there were no questions of any kind about their association. After all, he did not want anyone to wonder if he disliked or resented the Omega. It would not be good for anyone if there were doubts about his support of their alliance. However, all that must occur in front of others. There was no reason for Dean to even lay eyes on the Omega in private.

Satisfied that he had made the correct decision, Dean was almost confused by the fact that he was raising his hand and turning the handle of Castiel’s door. He knew that he should stop and back away from the door. He should return to his own room as quickly as possible. He should bury himself under the bedding and sleep until he could pretend that his late-night ramblings had been a dream.

Instead, he pushed the door open until there was a large enough gap for him to slip inside. The scent of flowers lay heavy on the air but it did not matter. Dean inhaled deeply and had to stop the groan that wanted to escape him. Castiel. The name suited the Omega so much better than Michael ever had. When he had first heard the name, Michael, it had not sounded completely right to Dean but he had given it little thought. Now, he understood why Castiel had asked Dean to call him ‘Omega’.

Dean pushed the door closed behind him. His brain questioned every single breath he took as he swallowed down the scent. He knew that he should not be here, he should run from this room, he should do it now…

His feet carried him forwards, silently. Pale moonlight flooded the room and illuminated the bed that held pride of place. The was a lump in the middle of the bed that Dean knew could only be one thing. His heart pounded in his chest as he absorbed every nuance, every play of the light, every ripple of the bedding. He allowed himself another deep breath and this time the smell of flowers barely registered to him. Now, there was only the scent of the beautiful, perfect Omega.

He should not be doing this. The thought repeated again and again inside of his head but Dean ignored it. Truly, he did not know if he could prevent himself from moving forwards. He had never doubted his mastery over his own body before but now it was unclear whether he did not wish to stop himself or if he truly could not stop himself. It would make him feel better to blame the Alpha within for his actions but he was not sure of the truth. Perhaps it was beyond his control, but then again, perhaps not.

Dean came to a stop when he stood by the side of the bed, looking down at Castiel. The Omega slept on his back, his hands drawn into fists and resting next to his cheeks as though he had fallen asleep in the middle of stretching. Dean’s heart ached at the sight. There was a small frown marring Castiel’s features but Dean could not tell if Castiel was dreaming or if he usually slept this way. All he knew, was that when Castiel had slept in his arms, there had been no trace of a frown on his face.

He wanted to reach out and brush his fingers over the crease; he wanted to make it go away. Instead, he clenched his own hands into fists. He had somehow allowed himself to enter this room when he knew it was madness to do so but he could not allow himself to touch anything. If he did, there was far too great a chance of someone else realising he had been there. He could not afford to leave any trace of his scent in the room.

Dean stared down at the Omega, his Omega. Even if he could admit it to no one else, surely it could not be wrong to admit it to himself. As he watched Castiel breathe slowly in and out, a strange kind of calm overcame him. He had not experienced such serenity in many months. Just being in Castiel’s presence eased the tension inside of him but at the same time, it sent a shaft of pain to his heart. Castiel could, and had, made him feel so much more than this. He had experienced something close to bliss when Castiel had lain in his arms and the knowledge that he would never know it again made him feel physically ill.

Castiel shifted slightly in his sleep. Pink lips parted slightly as the Omega let out a feather-soft moan. Dean had to grit his teeth to stop himself from responding to the sound. His fingernails bit into his palms as he restrained himself from touching.

In the end, it was too difficult and Dean gave in. He reached out and brushed the tip of one finger over Castiel’s lower lip. The Omega made the same sound again and Dean had to snatch his hand away, swallowing hard to get rid of the saliva that filled his mouth.

Knowing that his actions had been beyond foolish, Dean tried to erase the memory of the touch from his mind. As quickly and quietly as he could, Dean scuttled to the door and hurried back to the safety of his own bed.

Chapter Text

It was market day and the town square was bustling with people. Women shoved and pushed good-naturedly as they greeted friends and bartered for items they needed. Men bellowed loudly, advertising their wares. Children screamed even louder as they chased each other around the various stalls selling all manner of things, from fresh fruit to twine to small wooden toys with moving wheels. The air was thick with the smell of fish and wine and honey and all manner of other things, good and bad, despite the brisk wind that moved through the market and the surrounding woods.

Dean stood, completely hidden, just beyond the edge of the treeline. Castiel was in the marketplace with Anna at his side, both wrapped in fur cloaks to protect them from the biting wind. They were speaking to Pamela and probably negotiating for more of the lavender the Omega always seemed to be saturated with now. Castiel smiled weakly at something Pamela said and it caused Dean to smile in turn. It was good to see the Omega smile; it was one of the reasons Dean watched. It was even better to see Castiel and Anna so happy in the company of Pamela.

Pamela was a Beta and someone Dean liked a great deal. Her wife, Jessica, affectionately known as Jessie, had passed away from a fever that even Pamela had been unable to cure, several years ago. For some time, it had seemed as though Pamela might choose to leave D’Or and all the memories the town contained. In the end, she had chosen to find solace with the people who loved her. Once she had decided to stay, there had been many who expressed an interest in taking her as a mate but Pamela had refused them all.

Of course, that did not mean she was celibate by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, Dean had many fond memories of her. He wondered vaguely how Castiel would feel if Pamela revealed how many of her wares Dean had sampled in the past. Perhaps it would approach how Dean felt when he watched Castiel and his father sat at supper together. The thought of the previous evening’s meal brought an unpleasant taste to the back of Dean’s mouth. Castiel’s polite enquiry as to John’s enjoyment of his dinner had led to John hand-feeding a morsel to the Omega. Dean had had to fight to resist the urge to over-turn the dinner table. He had excused himself promptly, making excuses about feeling unwell, knowing he could not count on the Valerian to hide his anger and jealousy. He might have considered obtaining some of the pungent lavender for himself if it would not have been far too obvious.

Dean was starting to accept that he would have to find some excuse to leave again as soon the wedding ceremony was concluded. Perhaps he could go back with Jo and Ellen again or find some excuse to visit Lord Robert. He had been home a week and it was already difficult to be in a room with his father and Castiel. He had not begun to imagine how he would cope when he was forced to watch the Omega escorted from the room, knowing that he was to be bedded by…

Dean repressed the growl that was building in his chest with difficulty and dragged his eyes away from Castiel. He took several deep breaths, trying to stop the trembling in his hands. His body felt as though it was being rent asunder. His Alpha was constantly fighting against everything his rational mind insisted had to happen. His instinctual responses did not care about the logical reasons for allowing his Omega to wed and bed another. All they cared about was Castiel and the blind need to claim him.

He was beginning to understand more fully what Castiel had spoken of on their crossing and to appreciate, not that Castiel had been correct, but how naïve he, himself had been. It was one thing to make the decision to do right and allow this alliance to be formed. Living with that decision was turning out to be something else entirely. Dean had started to accept the reality as something solid, something more than a concept. Resisting the urge to take the Omega as his own was going to require strength and forbearance every day for the rest of his life. The destruction of everything they were working for would only require one lapse of judgement.

He knew that he should stop what he was doing, everything that he was doing. He needed to stop watching Castiel from a distance when he walked in the market place or in the woods. He needed to stop allowing himself to stare at the Omega when they were in a room together and he was confident every else’s attention was diverted. More than anything else, he needed to stop entering the Omega’s bedchamber at night. Dean had come close to being caught once by Anna. There were worse people to be caught by, of course. She would not have been happy to see him but she certainly would not have alerted anyone other than Castiel to his presence. Still, it should have woken Dean up to the truth of his own carelessness and stopped him cold in his tracks. Instead, he had gone back to Castiel’s room the next night, just the same.

He did not allow himself to touch the Omega, not very much anyway. Sometimes, Dean would brush a finger over the back of Castiel’s hand or cheek or over his lip, just the same as the first night. Castiel had never yet awoken but sometimes he let out low whimpers or moans. Dean would happily catalogue these sounds until he was alone with a hand wrapped around his hard cock. He was quietly disgusted with his own behaviour and yet, each night, he returned.

Dean looked up and frowned when he did not immediately spot Castiel’s form in the marketplace. He almost wished he had not found the Omega at all when he spotted his father. John was looking down into those piercing blue eyes with a pleased smile on his lips. He was gesturing at Castiel’s basket, filled with lavender as Dean had predicted, and the Omega was shaking his head at something that was being said. Dean did not know if he wished he could hear the words being exchanged or not. Not knowing was torture, but if the words being exchanged were fond, surely that would be worse still.

When John took the basket from Castiel’s arm and waved in the direction of the forest, Dean allowed himself to breath a small sigh of relief. Kind words were painful to listen to, but affectionate gestures were worse. He was pleased to see John turn to make his way back to the castle while Anna and Castiel turned their feet towards the lines of trees a short distance away from where Dean, himself was concealed.

Knowing it was foolish and hating himself for his weakness, Dean climbed quickly up one of the larger trees, taking advantage of a few lower branches. If he was going to find the strength to distance himself from Castiel, now was not the time. He enjoyed his spying most of all, when Anna and Castiel believed they were alone in the woods together.

Sizable portions of his youth had been spent in these woods and he knew his way through the branches almost as well as he knew the paths below. He and Jo had spent many hours in these trees, chasing each other like monkeys. Jo had loved it, as it was one of the few physical activities at which she could best Dean. Ellen and his father used to get very impatient with their antics but the fact remained, it was hard to catch them if them were up a tree.

If Dean had been forced to wager on a time he was most likely to be discovered watching Castiel, this would not have been one of them. His feet sought out sturdy branches with ease as he grew closer to the pair picking their way between the tree roots, oblivious to the sentry above them. Even the strong breeze was no deterrent to Dean’s sure-footedness and he was free to watch them in peace.

Anna held Castiel’s hand in hers. Dean had only seen her do that when they were alone and at no other time. Perhaps they thought it would make Castiel look weak or draw attention to the fact of the Omega’s unhappiness. Dean did not need such things as evidence, all he needed to do was inhale deeply while standing close to Castiel. The lavender might mask Castiel’s scent as far as others were concerned, but it did not work well on Dean.

The first time they had walked through the woods together, Dean had overheard them discussing the upcoming wedding. He had been both pleased and pained to hear Castiel’s obvious reluctance. Anna had been trying to persuade him to make a decision regarding something or other and Castiel had eventually sighed so heavily Dean almost dropped from the trees to take the Omega in his arms. Finally, the words had floated up through the trees. “If I make these decisions, Anna, I have to accept that this wedding will happen and in less than a month.”

There had been a pause before Anna had replied and her voice had been laced with sympathy, “Have you not accepted it?” Castiel had not answered. Rather he had squeezed his companion’s hand and they had concluded their walk silently.

The second time they had walked together, to Dean’s surprise and pleasure, they had discussed Sammy and a book both he and Castiel were reading together. As it transpired, Anna could not read Latin very well and both Castiel and Sammy took turns reading chapters of books to her when they were together. Dean’s heart had swelled with pleasure at the thought of Sammy enjoying Castiel’s company. The happiness was bittersweet however. Dean had originally imagined them meeting and forming a brotherly bond. Instead, Castiel would be Sammy’s step-father. It seemed an unforgivable bastardisation.

Trying to shake off the feelings of melancholy, Dean made sure he was far enough from Castiel and Anna to not be spotted should one of them glance up unexpectedly, but close enough to hear their words over the wind. It was a delicate balance to achieve but as the sound of Castiel’s voice drifted up through the branches, Dean decided it was worth it. “… are getting worse. Perhaps I shall ask Pamela for something that may help.”

“My prince, did you not always caution against remedies that encouraged sleep?”

“I did.”

“Perhaps there are alternatives here we did not have in Ireland.”

“Perhaps.” A brief silence fell and Dean took extra care to be silent as he considered their conversation. Dean wondered guiltily if his presence was disturbing Castiel’s rest. He had never seen the Omega anything but deeply asleep when he had visited.

Anna was the once to break the silence. “He is so solicitous towards you.”

“He is.” Dean did not need clarification to know who they were discussing. “It makes everything so much harder. I wanted so very much to hate him. How can I hate such a good man?” He was forced to admit that if Castiel was to make a comparison between Dean’s behaviour and that of his father, Dean would most likely not emerge in a favourable light.

“You should not seek to hate your future husband.” Anna insisted.

Dean followed their progress from his position, making sure to stay far enough back to avoid detection. He had worthy cause later, to be grateful that he had. Had he been closer to the pair, he might not have noticed the odd movement of the branches of one of the bushes ahead of them on the path.

“Is hatred not better than despair?” Castiel was asking below but Dean was barely listening. He had never seen branches move that way due to a breeze. Sometimes a small animal could make leaves rustle that way if it was foraging for something on the ground. Far more likely, however…

Dean saw the man crouched low as soon as it occurred to him to look. A head of dark hair was vaguely visible amongst the green leaves and pair of equally dark eyes peered out from their hidden position. The eyes were trained on Anna and Castiel as the pair made their way, still talking quietly, closer and closer to the unknown observer.

If Dean had allowed himself to consider the situation closely, he might have hesitated. After all, there was numerous reasons why someone might conceal themselves this way. Perhaps the man was waiting for a secret lover or perhaps he was conducting some trade that he wished to be kept away from prying eyes and nosy neighbours. It was even possible that he had noticed the approach of a prince and had been intimidated enough to hide. Dean did not consider these things. All he saw was his Omega approaching an unidentified man with unclear intentions. He was not convinced of a threat, but he was sure enough to immediately begin moving closer.

Anna and Castiel were perhaps twenty feet from the unknown man, oblivious to the presence of anyone except themselves. Dean stepped quickly and silently from branch to branch, grateful that the oaks in these woods grew close together and glad that he was familiar with the layout. He did not want to take his eyes away from the scene below for any longer than strictly necessary.

He was gauging the distance between the parties below when something caught Dean’s eye that chilled his blood cold. The wind blew with a little more force than previously and the leaves concealing the man shifted accordingly. A glint of metal reflected the sun’s light and the shape was unmistakably that of a blade. At the same moment, the man appeared to decide that his quarry was now close enough for him to reveal himself and he straightened up, his eyes fixed on Castiel.

Dean saw the Omega and Anna freeze, panic written into every aspect of their body language. Clearly unsure of what to do, Castiel tried to push Anna behind him. “Please…” He began, but there was no time for him to say anything else.

Everything before Dean’s eyes took on a reddish tinge and he was aware enough for long enough to register briefly what was happening. Even when faced with Uriel, Dean had been able to maintain control of himself; he had considered his tactics and fought wisely enabling him to defeat the other man. This was different. The last time Dean had felt this way, he had been twelve years old and an intruder was entering Sammy’s bedroom. Just like then, the rest of the world ceased to matter. There was only an Alpha and a threat standing between him and someone he loved.

Dean dropped from the trees with a roar that drew all eyes. Then the Alpha took over and Dean knew nothing else for some time.

XXX

“I must fetch help!” Anna was trying to yell and scream but she was panting. Castiel knew that she had not been injured, but the shock was doing its work very well. “We must...we should alert…”

“Wait,” Castiel demanded quietly, still panting too. He had frozen where he had fallen in the brief scuffle. The sound of Dean growling had robbed him of all sensible thoughts. The sight of the Alpha hurtling towards them had made Castiel want to cry with relief.

Anna had thrown herself at Castiel, all but hurling him to the ground with the full weight of her body. Dean had not slowed. Rather, he had continued running past them and a fight had erupted in a morass of screams and growls and shouts that had been impossible to follow.

It had not been a long fight.

Unsure whether it was wise to move yet, but seeing few options, Castiel cautiously got to his knees and crawled forwards. “Alpha?” Dean did not respond to the word. His hands were still wrapped around the throat of the man who lay dead beneath him, applying more pressure to the bloodied flesh than Castiel had thought possible with human hands. Something Castiel did not care to identify was bulging from between Dean’s fingers as they clenched and unclenched.

As he neared them, Castiel reached out slowly to touch Dean on the shoulder and green eyes snapped to meet his. He wondered if he should feel threatened, either by the look on Dean’s face or the blood that covered the Alpha’s mouth, neck and torso, but he did not; he just tightened his grip on the shoulder he was touching. Dean would not hurt him; he was surer of that now than he had been ever before. He made an effort to keep his voice low and calming, “Thank you, Alpha. You saved me.” Castiel allowed his eyes to drift down to the mess of blood and tissue that lay beneath Dean, “He cannot hurt me now.”

Dean gave a low rumbling growl in the back of his throat and abruptly abandoned the corpse he had been choking. Anna gave a cry of alarm as Dean threw himself forwards, once again, but Castiel was already holding up a hand to halt any action she might consider. Long arms wrapped around his chest and he was being pulled and pushed and yanked in various directions.

He kept his body perfectly relaxed and allowed Dean to move what he wished. When the movement stopped, Castiel found himself sitting astride Dean’s lap. The Alpha was holding him tightly, nose buried in Castiel’s neck, growling under his breath. Dean had all but curled himself about Castiel, even bracing his feet against the ground so his knees were against Castiel’s back. The Omega ran his fingers through Dean’s hair gently, soothingly.

“My prince, should we not…”

Dean growled more loudly, almost as though he had known Anna was going to say something he did not want to hear. Castiel could not help but agree. He was back in Dean’s arms for the first time in months and he was in no hurry to do anything that might cause it to stop. “We will wait, Anna. If you could just give us a few moments.” He half-expected her to argue but, with a sigh, Anna got to her feet and paced a little back up the path they had followed into the woods. She stayed in sight, but only barely.

Castiel kept stroking Dean’s hair and attempted to keep his breathing even. He tried to consider, once again, whether he should be afraid of Dean in this moment. In truth, the only thing he felt was relief. There was no question in Castiel’s mind that the man who had been waiting for them had intended harm. His main target would likely have been Castiel but there was every chance he would have killed Anna too, just because she was with him. Castiel had been prepared to beg for her life, but with no expectation that it would be spared.

The brief fight that followed Dean’s unexpected appearance, was the most brutal display Castiel had ever witnessed in his life. The bouts he had watched during the tournament seemed more akin to children playing together when faced with such a comparison. The man was disarmed in seconds. Castiel was not sure what Dean had done, only that when the blade fell, bone had been protruding from the man’s wrist. Then, Dean had simply battered the man into unconsciousness using both fists as a kind of hammer. Castiel was certain he had heard multiple cracks that signified the breaking of bones then blood had appeared and Dean did not slow down. It took seconds for the blood to begin pooling beneath what had once been a man’s head. Once all movement ceased from the prone body, Dean had torn into the tender skin of the man’s throat with his teeth, using his fingers and nails to create bigger wounds, more damage.

Perhaps it would have been sensible to be afraid, even a little disgusted. Yet, as Castiel sat comfortably across Dean’s lap, the only thing he felt was happiness; happiness at Dean’s presence, happiness at the embrace they were sharing, happiness that he could experience this even once more in his life. There was also something else and it was something Castiel would have preferred to ignore; there was a kind of satisfaction that had flared in his chest as he watched Dean kill someone to protect him. It had seemed an age since Dean had treated him with anything other than disdain or perhaps, resentment. This, this was something else entirely, something that reminded Castiel of what they were supposed to mean to each other.

It was only after several moments had passed that Castiel realised that Dean was not feeling the same way. He was still growling and his hands were roaming over Castiel’s back, arms and hips. Whether he was looking for injuries or reassuring himself of Castiel’s presence was unclear but his scent was all panic and anger and sadness. “Hush, Alpha,” Castiel said quietly, deliberately adapting his scent into the most soothing he possibly could. “Such a good, Alpha. You protected me so well. You kept me safe.” He pressed his lips gently to Dean’s temple. “Such a good, Alpha.”

Dean let out a low growl, “Mine.”

Castiel’s heart ached fit to burst in his chest. He had accepted that he would never hear Dean say such things again. Even though he knew it was a reaction to the situation, Castiel committed every nuance to his memory. His fingers dug into the muscles of Dean’s shoulders. He wanted the Alpha closer, he never wanted them to be parted again. He wanted Dean’s teeth to pierce flesh again. A small noise escaped Castiel and he swallowed hard, trying to bury it inside. “Yes, Alpha,” he promised quietly. “I will always be yours.” It was the simple truth. Even when he was married and mated to John, he could never truly belong to any other Alpha.

Abruptly, the growling stopped and a kind of low whine took its place instead. Long fingers threaded their way into Castiel’s hair and tugged. Knowing it was wrong, knowing that he should tell Dean to stop and let him up, Castiel obeyed the pressure and bared his throat with a groan. Castiel’s neck was bent at an unnatural angle that was almost uncomfortable but it was somehow satisfying at the same time; he was enjoying the feeling of his muscles aching as he made his Alpha happy. Dean took deep breaths, lips and mouth pressed against the skin now exposed, “Omega…” Dean’s tongue rasped over the offered flesh and Castiel shivered.

The sound of feet running towards them brought Castiel back to their reality. Dean tensed beneath him. Castiel’s hair was abruptly released but strong arms were wrapped around him again. “My prince,” Anna panted as she staggered to a halt. She still maintained a few feet of distance between herself and the pair entwined on the ground, though. “Someone must have heard the fighting. They are coming to investigate. They did not see me, but…” She waved a hand behind her, apparently unable to find the words to demonstrate the depth of her panic.

“Damn it,” Castiel swore under his breath. He made to get to his feet but Dean only held him tighter and the growling started up again.
“Dean, you have to let me go. You have to let me up, now, Alpha.” Dean did not seem to be listening. His grip on Castiel was growing almost painful and the growling was getting louder. Castiel considered his options for less than five seconds before deciding that he did not have any. If someone were to come upon them and see him sitting across Dean’s lap it would be impossible to explain, leaving aside the fact that the Alpha seemed to be trying to scent him again. Bracing himself for the possible consequences, Castiel suddenly lurched backwards pushing against Dean’s grip as firmly as he could manage. When there was a little space between them, he slapped Dean hard across the face.

He did not truly believe that Dean would retaliate violently and he was correct. What he was not prepared for was the flash of hurt that appeared briefly as the Alpha’s eyes swam back into focus. Telling himself that he would have to care about that later, he reached for and gripped a handful of Dean’s hair firmly. “People are coming, are you with us?”

Dean blinked once or twice, screwing his eyes shut a little tighter than necessary. “Yes, I am…here.” He blinked again and then frowned slightly, looking up into Castiel’s eyes.

Realising that he was still straddling Dean, Castiel flushed and got to his feet. “Oh God, help us.” Anna gasped and Castiel turned to look at her.

“Anna?”

“You’re covered in blood and so is…” She waved a hand at Dean. “And even I can smell his scent all over you.”

Castiel looked down at himself and could see immediately the source of Anna’s concern. His brain worked sluggishly as he tried to conjure a reasonable explanation for his current state. Purely by coincidence, his eyes fell on the knife that had fallen from the mangled arm of his would-be attacker. It would have to suffice. Grimacing in advance of his own actions. Castiel stepped quickly and picked up the knife. Before Dean or Anna could stop him or even voice a protest, Castiel cut a long shallow swipe along the outside of his arm. The blood had barely begun pooling before Dean was growling again. “What do you think you are doing?” He wrenched the knife from Castiel’s grip.

“What needs to be done. Tear a strip from your shirt, quickly now.” Dean was frowning at the wound on Castiel’s arm, clearly unhappy. However, he did as he was asked. Castiel smeared the blood up his arm as best he could. “Bind it,” Castiel held out his arm. He tried not to let his scent reflect how badly the long cut was beginning to hurt. Dean tied off the strip of fabric with nimble fingers. Once the makeshift bandage was secure, Castiel stepped forwards until he was all but pressed against Dean’s chest. “Now,” he had to swallow hard before he could finish the sentence. The scent of Alpha was not losing its allure with time. “Hold me.”

Dean’s eyes widened. Despite the Alpha’s earlier words, Castiel was not convinced that Dean was in fact entirely aware in that moment. He still seemed to be a little lost to the Alpha side of himself. “What? Why would I…?”

The sounds of people hurrying through the close-growing trees was clear now. They were dangerously close to running out of time. “I will cry. Anna will panic,” said Castiel with a glance at her. She nodded her agreement, “And you will carry me back. They will not concern themselves with the source of the blood and you will simply be acting heroically. You will be protecting a family member. Now, hold me.” Dean frowned but did as he was asked. His arms wrapped around Castiel’s back and knees. Castiel immediately draped his good arm over Dean’s shoulder and let his scent lapse into one of distress. It would be hard to maintain while he was so happily ensconced in Dean’s arms, but he would do what he had to do.

Dean’s arms tightened around him and Castiel had to bite his lip to hold in a whimper. He was against Dean again and all he wanted to do was press his face into the expanse of bared neck and breathe deeply. The scent was almost too much for him. Dean smelled fierce and strong and like everything Castiel could ever want. He could not stop himself from pressing his face just a little closer as Dean began to move, to take them both back in the direction of the castle. “Easy, my prince.”

Castiel opened his eyes. Anna was just visible, hurrying along behind Dean. Her scent was almost completely hidden from Castiel’s sensitive nose by Dean, but there were traces. Fear was prevalent amongst the other things there. It could only help them and so Castiel was grateful.

There was no time for more words. People were suddenly there and all around them. Dean brushed aside their questions as best he could, answering vaguely. Several members of the crowd hurried off further into the woods and Castiel felt almost sorry for them. The sight of his attacker’s broken body was certainly going to haunt his dreams. He would not wish the sight on others, except that it would certainly provide a good explanation for Castiel’s current position and situation. He hoped no children would see anything, at least. He considered calling out a warning to that effect but Dean beat him to it. His Alpha’s consideration made Castiel want to smile.

Relaxing into the strong arms holding him was beginning to seem like a real option, when a voice cut through the mass of the others. “Stand aside, please! Let me pass, now!”

John was close and coming closer and everything inside of Castiel clenched tightly. Finally, the distress he was supposed to be keeping prevalent in his scent was easy to maintain. John was coming and he was going to want to take Castiel back from Dean. After all, what would any reasonable Alpha want to do in such a situation? Castiel let out an almost silent whimper and pressed himself just slightly closer to Dean’s body, the fingers of his wounded hand bit into the Alpha’s chest as though he could keep himself where he was by sheer force of will. Unless Castiel was very much mistaken, Dean trembled in response. They came to a halt and Castiel could suddenly smell John as though he was breathing down on them. He kept his eyes closed and tried to make his distress as obvious as possible. “Son, what happened?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen
The stench of angry Alpha filled the air but Dean was careful to make sure as little as possible came from him. Oddly enough, he felt almost completely in control of himself. Of course, he was far from pleased that someone had made an attempt on Castiel’s life but just the feeling of the Omega in his arms had calmed Dean more than anything else possibly could have. Castiel was alive and warm and had, apparently, been quite content to sit on Dean’s lap to be scented. It had been wrong, but it had gone a long way to reassuring Dean. The fact that the attacker was now nothing more than a smear on the woodland ground helped.

He had not had much chance to examine the mangled body, but Dean knew he had completely lost control. Apparently, it did not matter how much he decided to distance himself from Castiel, the Alpha inside would still do anything to protect his Omega. It was hard not to be a little proud of himself for that; for protecting what was…what should be his. If he thought about it, Dean was almost sure that the assailant in the woods had been a Beta so there was not much by way of a challenge to deal with. Foolish or not, and it most certainly was, Alphas responded more strongly to territorial threats made by other Alphas.

Dean’s eyes drifted to Castiel who sat to the side of the room having his arm tended to by Pamela, while Anna fussed over him. He wanted to be by the Omega’s side. He wanted to scent Castiel and be sure that the pain was not too severe. All the lavender in the world could not have hidden Castiel’s pain, Dean was certain of it. He wanted to make a general nuisance of himself while the others were forced to work around him because he was Castiel’s Alpha and he had a right to be there.

Instead, Dean tried to remain patient while John ranted himself almost hoarse. “I knew some of the others were jealous but this…To make an attempt on his life!” John had made the same statement at least four times and Dean had not made a comment previously either. There seemed little point when most of Dean’s attention was still happily focused on Castiel. What did he care if John wished to rave about the insult of it all? The only thing he cared about was sitting just a few feet away having his wounded arm tended to.

“We should have expected this,” Sam said, quietly, contributing for the first time. It was enough to catch Dean’s attention, he watched as his brother shook his head, true anger written across his young features. It was gratifying to see how much Sammy cared for Castiel. “The attempt was feeble but we should have anticipated that someone would be foolish enough to try. It was so fortunate you were there, Dean.”

“Why were you there, son?”

Dean did not allow himself to react abruptly. Instead, he switched his attention from Sammy to his father at what he considered to be a perfectly normal speed. John did not look suspicious, just curious. “The market was too noisy so I went for a walk and climbed one of my favourite trees,” Dean shrugged. “Castiel and Anna passed by and I glanced down when I heard them conversing. The would-be assassin was easily visible from my vantage point once I looked in the correct direction.”

John smiled, “I should never have criticised your penchant for tree-climbing.”

Dean forced himself to return the smile, “Jo will be so pleased to hear you say so.”

“Oh, I do not intend to tell her.”

A quiet hiss from the corner of the room drew both Dean and John’s full attention. Fortunately, John was too occupied to notice Dean’s reaction. Pamela was applying a thick green paste to the wound on Castiel’s arm which had now been stitched closed with delicate thread. “If you take care of the cut and apply this daily, there should be very little scarring.”

“I know, Pamela,” said Castiel with a grateful smile. “But thank you, I will take good care.”

“See that you do.”

Dean watched as John approached the trio. He was not sure he had ever been so conflicted in his life. John was his father and Dean had never had any difficulty submitting because of that fact. The question of who, in fact, was the stronger Alpha had simply never been raised, nor had it seemed terribly important. They were family and they worked in tandem, not opposition. However, Dean could barely contain the urge to challenge John as the older man approached Castiel. Today’s events had caused all the instincts and emotions Dean had been repressing to flare up aggressively. It seemed as though it might be difficult to force them back down again.

He dragged his gaze away as John reached the window seat where Castiel and Anna were perched side by side. Pamela took her leave with s mile as John eyes the bandage on the Omega's arm. Anna was holding Castiel’s hand in public for the first time in Dean’s memory but he found that he completely understood the action; he wished he could hold his Omega’s hand, too. Telling himself not to do anything so damn foolish, Dean moved in the opposite direction and took a seat next to Sam and let his younger brother’s familiar scent wash over him. Green apples and cloves and something akin to milk but not quite. It calmed him a little. “How are you feeling, Castiel?” John asked.

Dean heard Castiel chuckle quietly, “Somewhat embarrassed. My apologies, Dean.”

Dean looked up at the sound of his name. Castiel was looking at him very strangely, as though the Omega was truly sorry that Dean had been forced to fight the attacker. “There…is no need for apologies, your highness.”

Castiel sighed and shook his head. “I have let that slide up until now, but I’m afraid I must insist. All people who have saved my life, from this day forth, must address me by my given name.” He was the very picture of humility with the barest suggestion of kindly humour and Dean found he was surprised. He had avoided being in a room with Castiel as much as possible and so had not had many opportunities to see how he conducted himself. Dean thought he had never seen a better actor in his life.

Attempting to take his lead from the Omega, Dean offered a small smile and ducked his head politely, “Very well, there is no need to apologise, Castiel. It was my honour and my duty to protect you. You are a member of my family, now.”

The reminder was somewhat pointed but Dean felt as though it was warranted. Castiel seemed un-phased; he was shaking his head and sighing heavily. “I feel so foolish,” he said, as though confessing a secret.

Dean could not find the words to reply. This was a version of the Omega that Dean had never had occasion to see but he could not deny that it made a kind of sense. After all, Castiel had grown up in the Irish court, a prince and an Omega. He had probably had no choice but to become very adept at hiding his emotions and reactions. Dean thought, with some resentment, that he would never be as skilled as Castiel was at this sort of politicking.

John, clearly unaware of anything untoward, took a seat next to Castiel. He was looking at the Omega with genuine concern on his face. “Why would you feel foolish? There is nothing you could have done.”

“That is not entirely true,” Castiel admitted. “My father ensured I received tutoring in many things. I did not particularly care for hand-to-hand combat but today proved I should have given it more of my attention.”

“I had no notion you were taught to fight.” John’s eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline. Dean was surprised too, but it did make sense. Male Omegas were so very, very rare and one who was also a prince would be highly prized. Had Dean had a son in the same position, he would have insisted on training in all manner of combat.

“It was…more of an affectation on the part of my father than anything else,” Castiel explained. “He believed any skills I developed reflected well on him.”

John turned in his seat and bestowed a smile on both of his sons. “I wish I could say I have always been clean of such pride, myself.”

Dean would have given anything to disappear at that moment. He did not want to hear is father declaring how proud his was of his sons. Sammy certainly deserved it with his intellect and kindness and affinity for diplomacy. Dean, on the other hand did not. His greatest accomplishment was killing other people. He might have said something to counter his father’s claims but Castiel did not allow a silence to linger. “Well, it would seem his pride was misplaced anyway. I did not attempt to fight.” Castiel turned to Anna and the affection and love in his eyes made Dean’s chest hurt. “I just intended to plead for Anna’s life until Dean interceded.”

“If I may say so, you are not to blame.” Sam spoke up, “Proficiency in fighting is hard-earned and must be maintained. I find it tedious but I commit hours to it each week.” It was true. Dean knew that Sam would have far preferred to spend all his time buried in books, however, even when Dean had been away in Harvelle, Sam had continued his training with the other trusted men of D’Or. Dean had checked.

“Perhaps that is the solution,” John said with a pleased air. “You must begin to learn anew. I will…”

The pleasure on his face disappeared and Dean saw his father’s eyes drift down to the stump that remained at the end of his arm. He felt a stab of sympathy along with a hearty dose of guilt. “Father?” Sam was looking at their father with some concern. Dean knew that it was difficult for Sammy to understand. After all, as far as the younger brother was concerned, his father had only ever had one hand. It was different for Dean, he remembered a time when John had been the fiercest fighter in Briton. He draped an arm over Sammy’s shoulder, stopping him before he could consider crossing the room to John. He smiled gently as Sammy’s confusion.

“Dean would be the best choice to teach you, of course. He is the finest warrior in Briton, and Ireland too, I suspect.” Dean blinked surprise and looked over to see his father beaming at him with pride. For the first time since the conversation had begun, Dean saw a flicker of a genuine emotion on Castiel’s face; it was something close to horror and he understood immediately that something like this had in no way been the Omega’s intention. He found he could understand that.

Thus far, their only salvation had lain in avoidance. Just the brief contact Dean had had with Castiel this very day had caused his Alpha instincts to flare up to such an extent that he was concerned about forcing them back down. The possible consequences of repeatedly finding themselves in each other’s company, not to mention the very real likelihood of continuous physical contact was…intolerable.

“Father, I would never presume to take up so much of Castiel’s time.” Dean was very proud that his voice did not tremble despite the emotions raging through him. “It would take many weeks to…”

His father cut him off before he could finish. “He must learn enough to protect himself, son. I refuse to cage him like a prisoner.”

Dean was tempted to point out that discussing Castiel as though he was not in the room was almost equally appalling but, he restrained himself. It hardly seemed to be the most salient point at that moment. “Would assigning a guard not be a more suitable solution?” He suggested, reasonably.

“I may do that, also. However, I would feel better knowing that my betrothed was not completely helpless whenever alone.” John finally turned his attention back to Castiel. “I did not intend that as an insult.” He also extended his left hand and patted Castiel on the leg. John undoubtedly intended the innocent gesture simply as a comfort; he had no way of knowing that it made Dean want to wrench the arm from its shoulder.

“I understand.” Castiel said kindly. The Omega’s skill at covering his emotions was beginning to irritate Dean.

“Father,” Dean said trying to fight the rising panic. He could not do this, surely Castiel understood that. They must not. Nothing good could come from it. “Is it entirely appropriate? To manhandle someone who will rule…”

“You never balked at fighting against me when I trained you.” John said with a wry smile.

“I was but a pup. There was never any danger of my hurting you.” Dean said incredulously. He decided to overlook the memory of an occasion when he had managed to catch his father off guard and had knocked the older man to the ground.

John raised an eyebrow and Dean wondered if his father remembered that day, too. “We will agree to disagree on that point. You were always a ferocious fighter; however, I will brook no further discussion on this point. I am selecting you specifically because, as you mentioned yourself, we are all family. I would not allow anyone other than family to carry out this task. You will train Castiel to fight.” Dean got to his feet. He considered storming from the room but knew there was no good reason for him to do so. Instead, he was forced to simply stand his ground, looking foolish for indulging in such a dramatic gesture for no apparent purpose. “Do I have to command you?” John asked, quietly but firmly.

Dean swallowed hard. He knew when he was beaten. “No, father. Not if your betrothed has no objections?”

It was his last hope, but Castiel did not come to his rescue. Perhaps, the Omega had known there was no dignified way of avoiding sooner than Dean. He seemed perfectly calm and resigned. “Of course not. I would appreciate your help, Dean. Though I hope you will not find the activity too tedious.”

If Dean had been standing beside Castiel at that moment, he might have smacked the Omega upside the head. ‘Tedious’ was not a word he would have chosen for the activity. John, remaining oblivious to any tension in the room, smiled widely, “Then it is settled. Now, perhaps you should get some rest and let that arm heal. Your training sessions can begin when you feel ready. I will have one of the rooms readied.”

“The training will not take place on the field?” Dean asked.

John shook his head slowly, “I would prefer not to have such things done in view of others.”

Wondering if there was any way his fortune could get worse, Dean nodded with as much grace as he could manage, “Very well.”

“Excellent. Now, if you will excuse me I must see if I can identify the body of would-be attacker.”

“I will accompany you, father.” Sammy got to his feet and took his place next to John and they both hurried from the room.

Dean considered joining them but it seemed somewhat pointless now that he knew what his future held. Instead, he turned to look at Castiel and was shocked at the look on the Omega’s face; he looked close to tears. “My God, Dean. I had no notion he would suggest such a thing.”

“Well, he did.” He did not want to blame Castiel for this, knew that to do so would be ridiculous, in fact. It was only that it was difficult when there was no other possible vent for his frustrations.

“Apologies,” Castiel said quietly.

“We must simply put it off for as long as possible, I suppose.”

“How long can it be put off?” There was no hint of a challenge in Castiel’s voice, it was only a question. Yet it caused Dean’s temper to flare in response.

He glared at the Omega. “Hopefully, until it is too late for me to do something foolish while in your company. Until after the wedding, I suppose.” It was a stupid thing to say. Even as the words left his mouth he wished he could call them back. Not only were his words ridiculous, they were also untrue. It would be just as easy for Dean ruin everything after the wedding as before it. Castiel could not be mated until early Spring, at least. Until then, there were far too many opportunities to lose control of himself.

Apparently, Castiel had decided that pointing out such things was not worth his time. He sighed heavily and dropped his eyes, “Well,” he said, getting to his feet. “If you will excuse me. I should probably rest.”

“Of course.” Dean said and offered Castiel a polite bow. The Omega did not look at him again but Anna flashed him a look that could have melted stone.

XXX

As it turned out, Castiel’s first training session with Dean fell a week before the wedding; six days after the incident in the woods. He had always been a quick healer and there was no real reason to delay once John had inspected his arm and found the wound all but healed. His betrothed had remarked on it with astonishment and Castiel felt a surge of guilt. John had no way of knowing that Castiel had deliberately ensured the cut would be very shallow.

John escorted Castiel to the designated room in apparent good humour. Anna had been released from her usual post, so they walked alone. “I thought I would stay and watch the session.”

Castiel was surprised but it made sense, he supposed. John would want to monitor his progress, perhaps. “As you wish. I hope you will not be bored.”

John sighed and laid a hand on Castiel’s arm, stopping their progress down the hall. “I will not be. I want to ensure you are safe. You are important to me.”

Castiel blushed. It was not the first time John had said such things to him but it always made him uncomfortable. The Alpha had made every effort to see that Castiel was happy and comfortable within the castle. John asked after Castiel’s satisfaction with his sleeping quarters, his enjoyment of the food, his preferences regarding clothes, even how he was getting along with the people in the castle. The concern was touching but it should have been more than that, gratifying even. Instead, all Castiel felt when faced with John’s consideration was a crushing sense of obligation; the more the Alpha cared, the worse Castiel felt about his lack of affection for the man.

Castiel tried to imagine how he would have felt had he come to Briton and met John without ever having known Dean, but it was difficult. His happiness was now far too entangled with his True Mate and the pain their separation was causing. Still, he was aware enough to suspect that John would have made him very happy in different circumstances, far surpassing any expectations Castiel had of a mate.

With some difficulty, he managed to smile at his intended, “Thank you, John. I hope you will be pleased with my progress.”

The faintest trace of a frown marred John’s features but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I am sure I will be. Dean is the finest fighter I have ever known.”

They began walking again, “Truly?” Castiel asked, as though he had not already been convinced of it watching the tournament.

“Oh, yes.” John confirmed with a small chuckle. “He is far better than I ever was, but I would never admit such a thing, of course.”

“Perhaps he would like to hear it,” Castiel suggested and immediately wanted to bite his tongue off. He had been very careful to speak of Dean as little as possible, aside from compliments regarding the tournament.

John did not seem concerned, in fact, he smiled more widely as Castiel. “I am sure he would. However, I do not want him to become complacent. Battle is always dangerous and it is possible to fall to an inferior fighter through carelessness.”

Castiel was tempted to ask if that was how John had come to lose his hand. He was curious about the answer but it felt like an intimate question. John had done nothing to discourage such enquiries but still, Castiel held back. Inviting confidences felt like a violation, somehow, even though John was to be his husband. “I am sure you are correct,” he said, instead. They continued their walk in silence, finally reaching the correct room. The door stood ajar and Castiel could hear voices from inside.

When they entered, Castiel blinked at the scene. Dean was in the centre of the room, holding Sam down on the floor with one hand. The boy had clearly been there only seconds, his cheek was against the stone as he lay on his belly. They were both breathing heavily. “Tell me how I did that, Sammy?”

“You are faster than me, stronger than me, older than me and mean,” Sam declared. Apparently, they had not yet noticed their company.

“Oh, is that all?” Dean asked and Castiel could not help but be pleased by the smile on Dean’s face. “I can be much meaner than that.” He reached out with his free hand and prodded at Sam’s exposed ribs.

The younger boy immediately began to squirm and flail, kicking his legs despite the futility of the action, “Stop! Dean, stop! Please, stop!” His protests were somewhat contradicted by his wild laughter.

Dean seemed to consider this, “Hmmm, I think not.” He attacked Sam’s ribs again and the flailing increased. “How did it happen, Sammy?”

“Alright, alright,” Dean paused in his tickling. “You feinted. I was watching your hands and not paying attention to your shoulders or face.”

Dean let go of his brother and let the boy struggle to his feet. “Correct. You will know better next time.”

Sam had a mutinous look on his face, rubbing his ribs as though checking for injury. “Still mean,” he muttered.

“You will have to speak louder, Sammy. If you want people to hear you.”

“Enough, boys,” John said, announcing their presence with a grin to his sons. “Castiel will think you were raised by animals.”

Dean and Sam both looked towards them. Sam was the first to speak, “Dean was…”

“Teaching Sammy a valuable lesson,” Dean finished for him.

Sam scowled again but offered no further comment. John walked up to them and ruffled Sam’s hair. “Never fear, my boy. Your brother spent plenty of time on the floor when he was your age.”

There was some affectionate complaining from Sam but Castiel had stopped listening. Dean was putting on a good show of paying attention to his father and brother, but his eyes had already drifted several times. Castiel flashed him a small smile but it was not returned. They had not spoken since the day of the attack. They had been in the same room together for meals and when John was receiving company in the hall, but otherwise, Dean had avoided Castiel completely.

It was difficult not to be hurt by the fact, even though Castiel understood the necessity. His nights were filled with dreams of Dean and not being able to see and speak to the Alpha himself was decidedly unpleasant. Despite his initial dread of the training sessions, Castiel had found himself looking forward to them. Of course, that was before John had announced his intention to attend. He could not help but wonder whether John intended to be present at all of them.

Castiel was so absorbed in his thoughts that he could do little but blink when all attention suddenly turned to him. He kept his face impassive as he tried to figure out what he had missed. Fortunately, Dean came to his rescue. “I will not hurt you, Castiel, I promise. Shall be begin?”

Giving thanks for the assistance, Castiel nodded and made his way towards Dean as John and Sam retreated to the edges of the room.

Dean took two steps closer and Castiel had to swallow hard to keep his breath from hitching in his chest at the scent of his Alpha. It had seemed oddly muted ever since Dean’s return from Harvelle. Castiel had long since concluded that Dean was somehow masking it but he was not clear as to how. The only time he had been able to scent Dean clearly had been while he sat in the Alpha’s lap. It made sense, of course. Nothing would have been enough to cover the scent of Alpha that day.

He swallowed again and prayed his voice would not shake, “How should we begin?”

Dean took yet another step closer, “Push me.”

Castiel blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Push me.” Dean repeated. “Put both hands on my chest and push me.” Castiel was somewhat confused by the request but did as Dean asked. Even through Dean’s tunic, the heat of the skin beneath was obvious. Castiel dropped his hands as quickly as possible, not wanting to touch Dean any longer than strictly necessary, especially in front of John and Sam. The Alpha did not so much as shift on his feet in response to Castiel’s push. The Alpha raised an eyebrow, “Now, I am sure you can do better.”

Castiel found himself a little irritated by Dean’s attitude. “You are an Alpha, you know,” he said, not without a hint of sass.

A smile twitched at the corner of Dean’s mouth but it disappeared almost instantly. His expression returned to one of calm. “Yes, and you are an Omega, who apparently has been taught to fight.”

“I was not asked to try and tip over an Alpha.”

“And you are not being asked to do so now. Omega’s, male or female, are considered easier targets. They are not as tall or physically strong so, you must use what advantages you can.”

“Such as?” Castiel could not think of any advantage he would have over an Alpha who wanted to hurt him.

“Surprise is one of the best. Most Alphas think of Omegas as easy to intimidate and frighten. You must prove them wrong. If some Alpha approaches you and you are unsure of their intentions, do not wait for them to attack. It is harder to get their hands off you than it is to prevent them getting their hands on you in the first place. This is the best way to begin.” Dean took three paces back. “I am going to walk towards you and when I am close enough you are going to push me away.”

When he thought about it, Dean’s words made sense. Just the fact that Castiel would even attempt to fight back would surprise most Alphas. Omegas were not known for being aggressive. He nodded, conceding graciously. “Very well.”

Dean came forward more quickly than Castiel had expected and his heartbeat spiked in his chest. He threw up both hands and Dean more of less collided with them as Castiel tried to keep him back. “Do not brace your elbows. As you pointed out, I am stronger and sturdier than you. The force you gain through impact is not worth the energy. Wait until I am close enough and push me. Do not hit, push.” Castiel nodded, now eager to try again. Dean backed away and came forwards once again. This time, Castiel waited until Dean was closer. He planted both hands firmly on Dean and pushed. “Better. Put your whole body weight behind the push. You will not hurt me, I assure you.”

They continued like this for some time. Dean simply walked away from him and then back towards him. Each time, Castiel shoved at Dean’s chest a little more firmly. Dean suggested improvements to him every few times. “Keep your hands closer together. If you push against my shoulders they will move backwards and absorb some of the force. Aim for the centre of my chest.”

He had no idea how long they had been repeating this when John’s voice interrupted them. It startled Castiel; he had almost forgotten they were not alone in the room. “I think that will be enough for one day, Dean.”

Dean turned to his father, scowling. “We have not been here an hour, yet.”

Castiel noticed a slight shift in Dean’s scent accompanied his words; almost like that of an Alpha being challenged. John did not seem to notice. “I do not want you to wear Castiel out. This is his first time. He should begin slowly until he is ready for more.” John pointed out, with an indulgent smile in Castiel’s direction.

Castiel, who was, in fact, stood in the room, wanted to point out that he was quite capable of deciding for himself when he was tired. Instead he bit down on his lower lip. He could see, just with a glance, that Dean was not pleased with his father’s words. “He will not learn unless you challenge him.”

“Dean…”

“How is he to defend himself if he does not practice?” Dean turned to Castiel, “Do your arms ache at all?”

Castiel rolled his shoulders experimentally, “No, certainly not enough to concern me.”

“There, you see? I could barely lift my arms after my first training session.”

“Dean,” John was not smiling now. “Castiel is an Omega, he requires more delicate handling.”

Castiel bristled at the words and he was not the only one. Dean had already opened his mouth to retort. He wanted to let Dean speak up. He wanted Dean to tell John that Castiel was a grown man and was able to decide if they should stop or not. He loved the fact that Dean wanted to push. Instead, knowing it was wiser, he interrupted them as delicately as he could. “Perhaps we could have another session soon? I would like to go and find Anna now, though.”

Dean and John both looked at him. Dean with obvious irritation, John with benevolence. “Of course, Castiel. Sam, would you escort him, please?”

Sam hopped up happily and offered his arm, leading Castiel from the room.

XXX

Dean turned away as Castiel left to avoid watching the Omega go. He was aware that Castiel had spoken up only to diffuse the situation and avoid unpleasantness. Still, it rankled. Dean knew that Castiel had more in him. They could have spent another hour working, at least. It was difficult to concede to his father, even more difficult than he had thought it would be. The…distaste of doing so crept up Dean’s spine and settled heavily in his chest. John did not know what was best for Castiel. Dean did not think he was a complete authority on the subject either. Surely, the best option would have been to ask Castiel, himself whether he needed to stop.

John rarely acted as though Omegas were helpless, lost souls who needed protection and guidance; he had certainly not treated Mary in such a way. The only reason Dean could think of for John saying what he had, would have been because he thought it might please Castiel.

Knowing his thoughts could lead nowhere good, Dean worked on re-lacing the ties on his shirt and leggings. He always loosened them before training and tightening them was as good excuse as any to give John chance to leave the room.

Unfortunately, when Dean had finished adjusting his clothes, he was not alone. John was still there, staring at the doorway that Castiel had departed through. Dean tried not to sigh audibly. He was tired. It had been difficult since he had returned to D’Or and the incident in the woods had only served to exacerbate things.

He had not allowed himself to spend any longer in Castiel’s bedroom at night, but neither had he been able to stop himself from going at all. Attempting to convince himself that a few minutes and brief touches were not so bad, Dean still crept the hallways at night like a thief. He could not sleep until he had seen Castiel and even then, it was difficult. The scent of the Omega seemed to linger in the air around him even though Dean knew it was not possible. He was taking more of the Valerian, now. It helped him get some sleep, at least.

The very last thing he wanted to do was discuss with his father, whatever it was that John apparently needed to confide. Knowing that he could not escape the room without being rude or making up a flimsy lie, Dean accepted his fate. “Is all well with you, father?”
“Yes.” John said, still looking towards the door. He was frowning, but not as though he was angry. “Tell me, son, what do you make of Castiel?”

Dean wished he could feel surprised at the question. Instead, all he felt was a kind of desolate resignation. His recent bad fortune was set to continue, it seemed. “He is more pleasant and kinder than I expected of anyone from Ireland to be,” Dean offered. It seemed an inoffensive comment and it was certainly true.

John turned to Dean with a look of chastisement, “We must put aside those kind of prejudices, Dean.”

Considering John’s recent comments about the fragility of Omegas, Dean was tempted to call his father on the hypocrisy of the statement. Instead, he nodded, “I know. We have unpleasant people in Briton after all. Logic would dictate that not everyone from Ireland can be, therefore, bad.” Castiel had said something similar to Dean once, back when he was Michael.

“That is not what I meant, though.” John clarified.

“What did you mean?”

“Does he seem happy to you?”

Dean wanted to curse loudly. He had always valued his father’s trust and willingness to confide. It seemed as though everything that should have been good in his life was being soured. He knew that Castiel was not, could not, be happy. He was equally aware that he could not tell his father as much. “I have had little opportunity to speak with him since he arrived. Does he seem unhappy to you?”

“He does,” John confirmed. “Sometimes, I think there is a trace of it in his scent, but it is hard to make out under the flower oil he enjoys so much.”

Dean squirmed internally, “He has come here unwillingly, father. It will take time for him to be content.”

There was a pause as John considered that, but the older Alpha did not seem satisfied. “I wonder if he loved his father very much.”

“Have you asked him?” Dean knew that Castiel did not have a high opinion of King Crowley. Of course, Dean had believed that Castiel’s father was a member of the court when they had discussed the matter, but the sentiment had obviously been genuine.

“He does not easily discuss such things.”

“He does not talk with you?”

“Oh, he will talk with me. We discuss all manner of things. However, it all seems to be somewhat…” John searched for the word. “Superficial. I know nothing of his life before he came here; nothing of his family or childhood at all.”

Conflicting emotions roiled within Dean. The memory of lying with his Omega and speaking of their families suddenly seemed very fresh. Castiel had showed no hesitation, at all. His inner Alpha rejoiced and revelled in the feeling of superiority it gave him. The rational part of his mind wallowed in the usual guilt. “Perhaps he is reluctant to discuss it because it was unpleasant or because he feels the pull of divided loyalties,” Dean said, obfuscating.

“A possibility, I suppose,” John conceded, still not looking convinced. “He does not even seem curious about us, our lives here. He is not dismissive, though, just passive and accepting. I wish he would be more open with me.”

Since there was nothing Dean wished for less, he simply patted his father on the shoulder and offered a small smile, “In time, father.”

John’s answering smile was wider, “You have become very wise, suddenly.”

“I want you to be happy. I hope you know that.” That much, at least, was true.

“Of course, son.” John turned back to the door and inclined his head, “He makes me happy.”

“He does?”

John nodded, “No one could ever, ever replace your mother. She will always be the first thing I think of in the morning and the last at night. However, Castiel balms the wound somewhat. He calms something inside of me I did not realise had still been aching so fiercely. I hope your mother would not begrudge me that much.”

“I am sure she would not.”

“But it is all for naught, if he is unhappy here.”

Dean had to get out of the room. Those words coming from his father sent a shaft of pain through his entire body. He did want John to be happy. They had all suffered through the loss of Mary of Winchester but none had suffered as deeply as John. “He will be, I am sure of it,” Dean lied.

John offered Dean a small smile, “I hope you are correct.” Without another word, John turned on his heel and strode through the door.

Dean waited until the sound of his father’s footsteps had disappeared entirely before he let himself walk to the wall. The stone was cool against his back but it did little to soothe the conflict within him. He slid down easily until he sat on the floor, his knees bent and pressed close to his chest. He seemed to be having some difficulty breathing and it was a long time before Dean understood that he was actually close to tears. The frustration was too much and at that moment, for some reason, it was harder to control than it ever had been before. He rested his head on his knees and tried to take deep breaths, counting out longs seconds between each laboured inhale. His back and knees were aching from the strain of his seated position before he had regained some control over himself.

His father’s words and the sentiment behind them felt somehow real and corporeal; they seemed to be all around him and slithering over his skin like oil. He knew in that moment that he was the worst person in the world and that he had, apparently, made a ghastly, ghastly mistake. Castiel had been right. This was madness.

His original reasoning was sound, Dean still believed that, but it did not account for anything beyond itself. People were not governed purely by reason. People’s actions and feelings were not informed only by logical conclusions. Dean had done what was right and…no one was happy. No one except for the thousands of people thrilled at the idea of living the rest of their lives in peace.

Dean’s hands fisted tightly in his short hair and he tugged at it, enjoying the sharp sting that accompanied the action. He wanted it to hurt and hurt more. If it would distract from the pain he felt inside, any physical discomfort would be welcome.

“Alpha?” Castiel’s voice whispered, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound and he wanted to curse himself for not noticing the Omega’s entrance. His only excuse was that his face had been concealed in his knees as he tried to bring his body back under his control. Now, the scent hit him and he had to swallow hard to bite back a growl. He could not imagine a worse time for Castiel to intrude on him unexpectedly. The Omega was just inside the entrance, his back pressed against the doorway, watching with concern. “You should not be here.” His voice sounded accusatory though he had not intended it to be so. He was embarrassed at having been caught indulging his churning emotions. Castiel would be able to tell, Dean knew it. He could not be anything but very aware that this was the first time they had been alone together since the attack in the woods. He had scented Castiel so blatantly… “Why are you here?” He demanded, even more harshly.

“I wanted to speak with you.”

“Why? Where is Sam? Anna?”

“Sam escorted me to my room and then left. Anna is still there.” Castiel paused but Dean made no move to fill the silence. “I wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

Castiel bit his lip and frowned. There was a short pause as the Omega apparently sought the right words, “I…did not mean to contradict you earlier. I could have continued with the training, as you said. I simply thought it better to avoid an argument between you and John.”

Dean’s heart thudded unpleasantly in his chest and he struggled, gracelessly, to his feet. His earlier despair was transforming. He felt incensed, enraged. It was confusing. Castiel had only apologised, after all and Dean certainly understood the reasoning presented. There was no cause for Dean’s hackles to rise because of it. He stepped forwards and this time he saw Castiel flinch, although the Omega did not step back. He tried to understand the sudden swell of emotion, repeating Castiel’s words in his head until it abruptly made sense; it was the familiarity implicit in the statement. Castiel had not wanted Dean and…John…to argue. Dean felt his hands begin to tremble by his sides and he fought to keep them as steady as he could. “Of course,” Dean said through gritted teeth.

Castiel was still frowning and Dean knew he should tell the Omega to leave while their conversation could still be considered polite. Dean wondered what scent he was currently exuding, sure it could be nothing good. “There was no need for it, after all,” Castiel offered. “If John prefers me to progress slowly, I have no objection.”

Dean wanted to scream or hit something or possibly do both at the same time. He had somehow gone from sorrow and pain to anger in the space of seconds and the cause for all of it was standing in front of him. He felt another wave of rage flood over him. It was entirely different to the way he had felt when he had killed the man in the woods. This was a vile, impotent, frustrated agony that had no chance of escape. It was something he had chosen for himself and had inflicted on Castiel. Yet, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to blame the man in front of him. The Omega’s quiet acceptance and resignation made it so, so much worse. He stepped forwards again, knowing he should step back, “There is no need to apologise,” said Dean and his voice had now become a sneer. “You should take John’s side. He is your Alpha, after all.”

Castiel’s eyes had been drifting towards the floor at Dean’s approach but now, they flicked upwards again. He raked Dean’s face briefly and when their eyes met again, there was a hint of defiance there. “Of course, I should have known you would understand my position.” Castiel did not even blink before he continued, “The position you wanted for me, after all.”

This time Dean did not hold back the growl that worked itself free from his chest. Again, Castiel did not flinch; he did not look down. He merely watched as Dean moved, almost stalked, closer. “I must admit, I did not expect you to enjoy it as much as you seem to.” Castiel’s mouth dropped open but Dean did not give him a chance to speak. “Talking together, laughing. Sharing food from each other’s plates.”

“Am I not permitted a single moment without mourning? I am living with this, Dean, as you said we must.”

“I thought perhaps you might have some difficulty, at least,” Dean spat. “It seems things are easy enough with John.”

Castiel glared hard at Dean, “He has been very kind to me.” The rank scent of anger was beginning to come from Castiel, too. Rather viciously, Dean considered how much of a fool his father must be not to be able to discern the Omega’s feelings, even coming from beneath the ridiculous lavender. “He will make a good husband, I hope.”

“I am sure. What more could an Omega want?” Dean demanded, knowing he was goading Castiel but seemingly unable to stop.

Castiel refused to be goaded. Instead, he raised his chin higher, “Nothing that I am permitted.”

Dean struggled to speak, every word buried beneath the continuous growl rolling through his chest. “Perhaps, you will be glad. Perhaps, one day, you will bless fortune for your lot.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed up at him and Dean realised he had somehow gotten close enough to count the darker flecks of blue in the Omega’s eyes. “For saving me from a childish bully? Perhaps I shall. All an Omega dreams of is a good Alpha.”

Dean’s had darted out of their own accord and wrapped themselves around Castiel’s arms. If he had considered his actions, perhaps he would have expected some sort of resistance, but there was none. There was only a pair of blue eyes that refused to look away from him; that saw into him far too deeply. Dean wanted to do something, anything to prove that he, in fact, was a good Alpha. He wanted to show Castiel that he was wrong, even though Dean had been the one to provoke this conversation. It took everything he had to stop himself from pulling the Omega towards him.

His brain battled with his instinctual responses and they seemed to be tearing him in half. His breath was coming in pants and all it served to do was flood Dean’s senses with the scent of angry Omega. Even breathing through his mouth, Dean could taste it on the air. He tried to tell his hands to release their grip on Castiel’s arms but they simply would not.

Dean knew that everything was wrong. He should not have been so torn at that moment. His Alpha instincts should have compelled him to claim his Omega in some form or another. He should not have been able to resist the need and he would not have managed it had it not been for the steps he had been taking.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice cut through is thoughts like hot metal. He could still smell the scent of the Omega’s anger but now, there was concern too. He realised that his eyes had drifted shut and now, he forced them open. “What have you been taking?”

Dean wanted nothing more than to melt. He wanted to gather Castiel in his arms and confess that he had been taking something to help him sleep, to help him control himself. He wanted to clutch at the Omega and beg for permission to take them both far away; somewhere they could be together. It would have been easy for Dean to rationalise it. After all, had he not thought to himself very recently that no one was truly happy with the current situation?

However, when he looked into the Omega’s crystal blue eyes, he could not escape the truth; the other people who would be hurt. “Alpha,” Castiel tried again. “What have you been taking?”

Dean yanked his hands away as though Castiel had suddenly become hot. “It is none of your concern.”

“It is…” Castiel began, but Dean cut him off.

“It is not. You should return to your Alpha,” Dean hissed turning on his heel and marching through the door. If he heard Castiel sigh heavily behind him, Dean pretended not to.

Chapter Text

XXX

Castiel did not cry on the morning of his wedding, but Anna did. Tears streaked down her face as she dressed and prepared Castiel, once again, alone. All the other servants had been dismissed to allow them the time together, Castiel would have had it no other way. He looked at Anna’s face and found her beautiful, even in her grief for him. He was sorry for her pain, but glad of the sight. He could not allow himself to cry but found her tears cathartic.

When Castiel stepped up to the polished surface and surveyed his reflection he saw Anna cover her mouth to hide a sob. “Please, Anna,” Castiel begged, “Do not upset yourself any further. We will have many eyes on us very soon.”

Anna bit hard into her lip and her breath hitched as she nodded, trying to smile. “I am a fool,” Anna said weakly, finishing in an almost hysterical chuckle.

Castiel frowned, “Why would you say such a thing?”

Anna turned away from Castiel and walked towards the window, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. “I wanted to protect you. I thought you needed protection from yourself because you are so young. All along, I have counselled patience and restraint, compliance and acceptance. I thought I knew better.”

Castiel followed her steps, “And now?”

Anna faced him again, fresh tears on her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs, “I should have fetched you provisions and helped you run the night you met him. I should have…”

Castiel reached out and took her hands in his, hating himself for ever being grateful for her sorrow. This was Anna, the person who had stood by his side every day of his life. He had never doubted that she wanted the very best for him. “You did what you did out of love.” He told her, “You cautioned me because you wished to protect me. I have never, and will never doubt that.”

Anna was shaking her head, “I was wrong, my prince. I was so wrong.”

Castiel brought his hands up to her lips and kissed them both, “I made my own mistakes. There are a million things that might have been different, Anna. It matters not. We are here.”

“My prince…”

“We could not have run that night, Anna. Dean was too weak. We would have been caught and I would have watched him die in front of me. I will never resent you, but rather be grateful that you spared me that pain.” Castiel reached up and wiped one of her cheeks, “Dean told me on the crossing that we would have to live with these circumstances and that is what I will do. If he is alive, I can live with it. As long as I always have you.”

“You will always have me, beloved.”

Castiel let her embrace him for long seconds that turned into minutes. They let the sunlight streaming through the windows warm them, knowing that the air outside would be cold. There was nothing else he wanted to do as they waited to be summoned for the wedding. The time came sooner than he would have wished.

When they entered the hall, Castiel’s eyes first fell on John of Winchester. It was only natural, as the Alpha stood waiting for him at the end of an aisle, that there was a smile on John’s face. He returned it as best he could before letting his eyes drift over the assembled crowd. He recognised many of the faces there. All the Barons he had been introduced to during his time in Briton were present. He spotted the vile Lord Alistair near the back of the room, all but leering at him. Castiel did not offer the man anything close to a smile.

Everyone was watching him as he made his way slowly through the room but his eyes were only drawn to one person. Dean was stood next to Sam, at the front of the room. The Alpha stood tall but it did not look like a natural pose. Dean’s jaw was clenched; Castiel could see the muscles working in his face and neck. He counted out three seconds in his head, knowing that that was all he could allow himself, as he looked into Dean’s eyes.

Hard green looked back at him. Castiel was disturbed to realise that he could barely read anything in Dean’s expression and wondered just what Dean was taking and how much of it. He would have given anything to be able to cross the room, throw himself into Dean’s arms and declare this whole thing had been a horrible mistake. Instead, he squared his shoulders and continued putting one foot in front of the other until he reached John’s side and there was no way he could see Dean without turning around.

John of Winchester took Castiel’s hand and they walked two more steps forward up to the dais. It was at that moment, feeling the warmth of John’s hand against his own, that Castiel realised that this was truly happening. He looked up at the Alpha who was about to become his husband and felt…almost nothing. There was no rage, no anger and very little pain. Apparently, he had experienced all the pain he was capable of, at that moment at least. All Castiel felt at that moment was a numbing wave of despair. It felt as though he was reaching the end of a terrible dance and now, it was time to pay the fiddler.

The ceremony was nothing but a blur. He recited the words he was supposed to. He could hitch the required smile onto his face. When John pressed a brief kiss to Castiel’s lips, he did not flinch. He allowed John to escort him from the room and into the banqueting hall. He did not look for Dean, afraid that if got another look at those green eyes, he might start to feel pain again.

Once he and John had sat down for dinner, the Barons came up to the table one by one and offered their congratulations. Castiel made use of the years he had spent navigating the Irish royal court and simpered and smiled and ducked his head appropriately. Regardless of how many times he re-examined the day in later times, Castiel could never remember exactly what was said during dinner or even the food that was served. All he remembered was the weight on his shoulders and the horrible apathetic resignation that filled him.

He also remembered that he did not see Dean’s face once. No one else seemed to notice the elder son’s absence, not even John. To Castiel, however, the void was a presence in and of itself; the room seemed filled with the lack of Dean. He kept his actions as subtle as possible but still took every opportunity to search the room. When it proved fruitless, he began looking for people whom Dean might be with. He saw Sam and Lord Robert and Joanna of Harvelle but to no avail. He could not help but wonder if perhaps Dean had found this whole thing too difficult to bear; making it through the ceremony and then retreating to some unknown location away from the hall. It seemed likely, and even understandable, and yet it made Castiel angry. He would have liked to flee, too, but he could not. Instead, he sat and smiled and hated himself and everyone else a little more with each passing minute.

The day wore on and the candles were lit as the sunlight faded early from the sky. Winter had been closing in around D’Or for some time and large fires were constantly ablaze around the hall to keep out the encroaching cold. The celebrants had become progressively louder as the drink flowed and the food was devoured. Wild, cheerful toasts were offered up to John and Castiel and the peace their union would bring to Briton. If Castiel had ever been fearful that his origins would incur resentment in his new home, they were all allayed. It brought him no comfort.

The cold weight of dread was settling in his stomach more and more heavily as the minutes sped by. Every second seemed to go by more quickly than the last and in no time at all, John was offering his hand to Castiel once again. He refused to allow himself to flinch and instead, did what he had been doing all day; what he was supposed to. He took the Alpha’s hand and kept his head dipped demurely as he was escorted from the hall.

Loud cheers chased them out of the room but they were certainly no worse than Castiel had heard following wedding celebrations in Ireland. He allowed his eyes to sweep the room one more time but he was not sure whether it would be worse or better to see Dean at that moment. Perhaps it was for the best that he did not. There was every chance Castiel would have run if he had seen green eyes staring at him, either from the room or towards the Alpha.

Castiel swallowed hard as the doors shut behind them with a subdued bang. “Are you alright, Castiel?”

He blinked up at John wondering what the Alpha was seeing. Castiel had been careful to guard his emotions all day and his scent was, as usual, buried beneath the cover of the lavender. On the other hand, he had not looked at his reflection since this morning. Perhaps he did look as bad as he felt. Feeling as though his face may crack if he hitched it into a smile one more time, he did so anyway. “Of course, John. The wedding was lovely.”

“Did you enjoy the feast?” John asked as they made their way through the halls.

“I did,” Castiel lied. The silence stretched between them until it became uncomfortable, “And did you?”

John nodded, “I must remember to send my compliments in the morning.”

The morning. The time that came after tonight and the consummation of the marriage. Castiel kept his back straight as they ascended the stairs and John led him down an unfamiliar corridor; one that, Castiel knew, led to the Alpha’s private rooms. The silence descended again and Castiel sought, somewhat desperately, for something else to say. “It was good of all the Barons to come to our wedding.”

John made a sound in the back of his throat, “It was expected of them. Though many came simply to share in our happiness, others are far from pleased, as I’m sure you know.”

“You will be King once you are coronated. That is bound to cause some to feel jealousy.” Castiel found himself thinking of Alistair’s leer and with it, the loathsome Baron’s determination at the tournament. Castiel understood his own value in this matter and suspected that he had been correct when he had told Anna why King Crowley had chosen Alistair to win the tournament. He had some friends, that much was obvious, but most of the other Barons would have refused to unite behind Lord Alistair and Briton would have remained divided. John had no illusions, clearly.

“I am sure your father has had his own difficulties while ruling,” John said.

Castiel suspected that was true but he had very little experience in the matter and so, did not feel qualified to offer an opinion. “I was not involved in court life beyond appearances I had to make.”

John had no comment to make on that, apparently and this time, Castiel did not attempt to fill the silence. He was beginning to feel sick. They were drawing near to the end of the corridor and Castiel realised that John had begun the conversation as a method of distraction. As they drew to a stop outside one of the doors, Castiel knew that the time for such things had now passed.

The Alpha offered Castiel a gentle smile and opened the door, holding out his hand in welcome, “After you, husband.”

Castiel had to bite back a gasp of horror at that word. He knew that John was trying to be kind but it brought back the pain for the first time since the ceremony. John of Winchester was now his husband and he had a duty to perform. He wondered if it was possible to die simply from a feeling and for a fleeting second, he wished it was. Instead of fleeing from the corridor as he wanted to, Castiel nodded his head and stepped inside. “Gratitude,” he said quietly.

Anna was already in the room, waiting for them. Castiel was momentarily surprised to see her but when he gave it a moment’s thought, it made sense. She was here to prepare him for the night. There was a large basin of water set out with fresh linens waiting. Castiel swallowed hard, not even trying to return the smile Anna offered. It would have been too much. “I shall…” John’s voice behind him made Castiel turn. “Give you a few minutes?” He indicated Anna and the supplies laid out.

“I would appreciate that.”

John inclined his head and disappeared through a door, Castiel had not noticed until that moment. Once they were alone, Castiel turned his attention back to Anna who, once again, looked on the verge of tears. He watched her whole face tremble but this time, Castiel knew that if he saw her cry, he would not be able to bear it. “Anna,” he whispered, hearing his voice tremble, “Please, I beg of you…”

Fortunately, he did not have to finish the sentence. Instead, she nodded and bit her lips, steeling herself. She made her way to his side and began divesting him of his clothing. Once he was naked, she helped him wash with the cloths and dried his skin gently. She pulled a bottle of lavender oil from within the folds of her dress and helped him apply it to his skin as thoroughly as possible. Reluctance was one thing, but if John picked up on the blatant revulsion Castiel was feeling at the idea of consummating their marriage…he did not want to think about the consequences.

Anna settled Castiel in bed, naked, tugging the covers to above his waist. He appreciated her attempts to preserve his modesty but truthfully, he saw little point in it. He brought his hands to rest over his lap and could not help but see the tremble in them. Anna saw it too offered him a gentle smile, “You will survive this night, my prince. The sun will rise tomorrow and it will be but a memory.”

Castiel found he could not return the smile, “Until tomorrow night?”

Anna struggled for words for some time. Finally, she simply patted his clasped hands, “He will not hurt you. At least, he is not Uriel.”

Castiel nodded, trying to be grateful for that fact. They looked at each other for long seconds, but there was nothing left to say and they both knew it. “You can go now, Anna,” Castiel said.

Anna let out a shuddering breath and nodded. She wanted to find some reason to stay. Castiel watched as she smoothed the covers again and again, then checked to be sure his clothes had been laid down neatly. When she had exhausted all possibilities for delay, Anna crossed the room and knocked on the door John had disappeared through, calling that Castiel was ready. With one final glance at him, lying frozen in bed, Anna left the room.

As though John had been waiting for them to be alone, he came back into the room within moments of Anna leaving. His eyes immediately settled on Castiel and a small smile graced his lips. Castiel knew he would not be able to return it, so he settled for the blank mask that had served him so well in the past. If John was displeased, he did not let it show. The Alpha had changed out of the heavy garments he had worn for the wedding and in a long dark robe that fell to his ankles revealing bare feet; it shifted as John crossed the room to sit on the bed.

Castiel felt the shift as John sat but his body remained rigid. His thoughts were jumbled but at the same time strangely simple. He did not want to do this. He would give anything not to do this. He wanted Dean. He wanted to run. He wanted Anna to come back. He wanted D’Or to catch on fire. But, Castiel would lie still and let John do as he liked, because there was no other choice.

“Are you afraid, Castiel?” John asked, his voice gentle.

Honestly, fear was not one of the things that Castiel was feeling, at least not strongly, but he knew that he would have been had he not had some idea what was to come. He answered accordingly, “I am.”

“You do not need to fear me,” John said and it sounded like a promise. “But I understand. You are far from home and I am a stranger, still. In time, I hope that you will come to welcome my touches. Has anyone touched you before?” Castiel found that he could not speak. He simply shook his head. “I thought it unlikely. I am sure you have feared what an Alpha might do to you, but have you ever been told that it can be good?”

Castiel swallowed, “I have heard it said.”

“It is the truth. With someone you care for, it can be very, very good.”

Castiel nodded again but the action brought him pain. He wanted to weep. He wanted Dean. He wanted his Alpha. “I understand, John.”

John sighed heavily, but said nothing more. Castiel suspected that John had hoped for something more in response. The Alpha got to his feet and pulled back the covers on his side of the bed. He reached for the edges of his robe but then seemed to change his mind. Instead, he climbed beneath the bedding still covered and shifted his weight over to Castiel, who swallowed hard. “I am going to kiss you, now.”

Castiel could feel something fluttering in his stomach; it was as though several bats were loose inside of him. He realised that he wished John would stop being kind and simply get it over with. He wanted this experience behind him, he wanted proof that Anna was right and that he would survive it. Hoping to force the Alpha to move the evening along, Castiel shifted closer and did not flinch when he was suddenly wrapped in John’s arms.

The hand on his back felt wrong. The taste of the mouth against his was worse. The feel of a beard brushing across his jaw was jarring and when he felt John’s tongue brush his lower lip, Castiel could not stop a tear escaping. He kept his eyes closed to hide it as best he could and hoped that John was doing the same. He prayed that he had applied enough lavender.

Castiel kept his body pliant as John shifted. That large, rough hand was beginning to trace Castiel’s spine. It touched his arms, his side, his belly and Castiel did not fight it. There was no chance of victory anyway. Bile rose from Castiel’s stomach when John reached up to shed his robe, shaking it off his shoulders. The heat of the Alpha’s skin was smothering. It seemed to cover all Castiel’s body, even the parts it was not touching.

The feel of a hardening cock prodding Castiel’s legs was almost enough to make him forget every resolution he had made. He wanted to shove John away and run from the room. Of course, he did not. He just listened the Alpha’s increasingly heavy breathing and forced his body to remain as still as possible.

He tried to think about other things, anything that would distract him from the reality of his situation. He tried to remember what he had been reading most recently with Sam, but he could not remember the title of the book. He tried to picture the embroidery Anna had been working on the last time they had sat together but he could not see the pattern in his head. He wanted to think about Dean, but at the same time, he wanted to think about anything else. He could not bear it. The urge to cry was getting stronger and Castiel kept swallowing, trying to force it back down again. There was a rising sense of panic. He felt like an animal caught in a trap he would never be free of…

Then John froze on top of him and everything seemed to come to an abrupt stop. The crushing weight of the Alpha receded slightly and a pair of dark eyes were peering into his own. Castiel was not sure what had happened but John’s hand had paused in its wandering. He was frowning down at Castiel and the Omega was struggling to draw a breath. He had not said anything, he was sure of it. He had not even let himself tense his muscles.

John shifted his weight, bracing himself on the arm that ended prematurely. “Wait, Castiel,” he said and so, Castiel waited, completely baffled as to what was happening. The hand that had been gripping his hip was suddenly moving between his legs. Castiel could not stop the gasp that escaped him; it was so unexpected.

John let out a heavy sigh and the frown faded from his face. He smiled a little sadly and Castiel braced himself for whatever was to come next. Instead of continuing, however, John simply shifted again and rolled to lay himself down on the bed.

Castiel did not think he had ever been so confused in his life, “My lord?”

“You do not want me, Castiel.”

With a sickening lurch, Castiel realised what John was referring to. He could cover his scent with lavender, but nothing could hide what was between his legs. Or rather, what was not between them. He was not hard. He was not slick. “A…Apologies, my Lord, I…I…”

John reached out and patted Castiel’s arm. There was no anger when he spoke, “Calm yourself, Castiel.”

Castiel found that very hard to believe. He had not even considered that his own body might betray his true feelings to John. Then again, even if it had occurred to him, he would not have assumed that John would have cared quite so much. “My Lord, I…I just…”

“And it’s still, John.”

The Alpha turned to look at him for the first time since he had rolled away and Castiel had to accept the fact that there was no anger there. Disappointment, certainly, but no anger. “Yes, John.”

The Alpha propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Castiel who was still afraid to move. The only problem was that he did not know what frightened him the most, the idea that he had disappointed John or that if he did or said the wrong thing, John might change his mind and begin again. “I do not want you to be afraid,” the Alpha said, finally.

Castiel broke the eye contact to stare at his hands, “I do not want to be afraid.”

“But you are,” John insisted. “We cannot begin this way.”

“I…” Castiel felt wretched. John was so kind to him. He could not honestly imagine any Alpha in his father’s court withholding themselves for their partner’s comfort. And yet, John’s words suggested a hope that things would improve in the future and Castiel knew that would not be the case. “I will do whatever you ask of me, John.” It was the truth. They had been married today; there was no going back now.

John just looked at him with a small smile on his face. “And therein, lies the problem.” Castiel felt pinned under the gaze. It was impossible to look away but he thought he understood. After all, he would not want to force himself on another, either. He simply had not given John enough credit. “Sleep, Castiel.”

John settled himself comfortably on his back as Castiel blinked in surprise. “I do not understand,” he admitted.

“Never, have I been so grateful for the restrictions on mating an Omega,” John muttered, almost under his breath, shifting beneath the covers. Eventually, when he was comfortably settled, the Alpha looked at him again, “I must claim you, Castiel, you know that?” He did know that and
so he nodded. “But until then, there is no need for me to bed you. I can wait.”

Castiel was sure he would not be able to hold back the tears this time. His vision was swimming with them as he looked at the man lying beside him. “John, I…”

“It would be better for us to get to know each other, I think,” John patted Castiel’s hand again.

“I…gratitude. There are no words for…” And there were not. John deserved so much better than anything Castiel would ever be able to give him. For a moment, Castiel wished that he had never met Dean he wished that it was possible for him to be a good Omega, a good husband to the future King of Briton. Unfortunately, wishing for something did not make it so. He had met Dean and in his heart of hearts, Castiel knew he would rather have had that short time with his True Mate, than live the whole of his life without.

“Sleep, Castiel.”

XXX

When Dean awoke, he was immediately aware that something was wrong. He tried to roll to his side, but could not. His eyes snapped open and he was greeted by the sight of a wooden ceiling. Realising he had not awoken in the castle, he quickly scanned the room. He was in a hut and judging by the scent of orange blossom, it was one he himself had helped to build. Pamela.

He tried to shift his position and became aware of pain in his hands. He glanced down to see that he had been very effectively restrained. His arms had been strapped to his chest and his hands themselves were bound in linen cloths; he could feel the slide of some sort of oil between his fingers.

Dean opened his mouth to call out, but at first, only a hoarse croak escaped his lips. Confused, he tried to clear his throat and found that that caused him discomfort too. Ignoring it, he called out again, this time managing to say Pamela’s name.

The only door into the room opened, but it was not Pamela who came through it. For some reason, Dean was not surprised to see Jo framed in the doorway, holding a cup in her hands. On seeing that Dean was awake, she crossed the room to his side and perched on the edge of the bed. Dean blinked at the scent of distress that she was radiating but Jo spoke before he could, “You should drink this, it will help with the pain.”

“What happened, Jo? Why am I here?”

“I will answer any questions you have once you have drunk this.” She did not move to untie him. Instead, she reached behind his head and lifted it enough so that he was able to drink the warm liquid without spilling it all over himself.

After the first sip, Dean tried again, “Jo, I…”

“You will drink, Dean.” He had rarely heard Jo sound so absolutely determined and since he did want an explanation, Dean decided it was better not to argue with her. The taste of honey on his tongue was pleasant but he still recognised the willow bark beneath it. He was glad of it, in truth. His hands were paining him quite badly. Once he had drained the cup, Jo set it down with a sigh. When she looked at him, Dean was sure he had never seen her look so unhappy since the death of her father. “What do you remember?” She asked.

Dean blinked and tried to cast his mind back. “The last thing I remember is…” His voice trailed off as the imaged danced before his eyes. His Omega, walking down an aisle. Castiel had looked beyond beautiful as he made his way through the assembled crowd and Dean’s heart had thumped unpleasantly in his chest. The thumping had grown worse when Castiel had come to stand at John’s side.

He had clenched his fists so tightly that he knew there would be small cuts in his palms, he remembered that. He could also recall forcing himself to take steady breaths. He had looked away from the pair in front of the dais and focused instead on his brother, who stood by his side. Sam had looked so happy, so content and it had been the only thing that kept him from losing every shred of control. That and the heavy dose of Valerian he had taken that morning; almost enough to fill a small spoon.

The ceremony had gone ahead, that much, Dean knew. He could recall the sight of his father and Castiel walking from the hall. After that, things grew…less clear. “I remember the wedding,” Dean said, finally.

“The ceremony, perhaps,” Jo said. “But you did not attend the feast.”

“I did not?” Dean could not remember it, but his presence would have been expected.

“No, and when I noticed your absence, I went looking for you,” Jo explained.

“You did?”

“I did. Do you know where you were when I found you?” Jo asked and Dean could do nothing but shake his head in bewilderment. “You were in the woods and you were…” Her breath hitched and Dean realised she was fighting the urge to weep. “You were tearing apart an oak tree.” Jo sounded a little hysterical as she finished the sentence.

Whatever Dean had been expecting her to say, it was not that. “I…what?”

Jo indicated Dean’s bound hands, “You were hitting it with your fists and ripping chunks out of the bark with your fingers.”

Dean tried to force his brain to recall the night but there was nothing. It was a blank. He did not even recall leaving the castle after the ceremony, though clearly it had been a good choice to make. “I…I have no memory of that.”

His voice was surprisingly calm but it did not comfort Jo. Instead, her voice rose to a yell, “I could not stop you, Dean. I called out to you but it was as though you could not hear me.” The smell of anxiety and fear was suddenly thick in the air. Her usual scent of apple and honeysuckle was soured; rotten. Dean felt horribly guilty. He wondered what Jo had seen when she looked at him. Had she recognised her oldest friend in Dean then? He suspected not. “Do you have nothing to say?” She demanded when Dean did not reply.

“I…I cannot think of a single thing.” Dean said truthfully, wishing he had a better answer for her.

“Tell me, why?”

“I do not even remember doing it, Jo.”

Jo got to her feet and paced the room, angrily. “Enough, Dean. Just, enough.”

“Jo…”

“No, I mean it. I have never been more serious in my life. You are going to tell me what is wrong with you.” She came to a halt and stood peering down at him. He almost shrank away from the anger in her eyes.

“I have…not been myself recently, Jo. Ever since I almost died, I…”

“Stop. I do not believe it. Your excuse is just that, an excuse. You have confronted your own mortality many times and it has never affected you like this.”

He wanted to tell her the truth, oh, how he wanted to. Instead, he stared down at his bound arms. “There is nothing else to say.”

“Dean, you would not stop. Your hands were bloody and you had bitten into your own lips. Still, I could not stop you. I had to rush to the stables and have Benjamin come to help me. You threw him aside as well, as though you did not care we were there. We had to fetch rope to tie you up and drag you here. Pamela covered your face with a cloth soaked in some plant until you fell asleep.” Dean said nothing, continuing to stare at the rope binding him. He could not think of an explanation she would accept. “If you will not tell me the truth, I will tell your father everything.”

Dean’s head snapped up and he glared hard at Jo. He knew any attempt at intimidation would be severely hindered by his current state, but still, he could not let his father find out about his recent behaviour. “No.”

“I will, Dean. And I am not simply referring to last night. I will tell him everything. I will tell him about how low you have been since you first returned from Ireland. I will repeat every conversation we have had since your return. I will tell him of your failed attempt to bed me and I will tell him how you begged to leave D’Or and how I took you to see Charlene.” Dean stared at her, open mouthed and appalled. He tried to conjure up some feelings of betrayal but it was hard. All he could see when he looked at Jo was how afraid she was for him. She took a deep breath, “And I will find out what she gave you that could account for this.”

“For what?”

Jo looked at him as though he was a fool, “You were not fighting anyone last night, Dean. You were fighting…yourself somehow. It was obvious. You were so conflicted that you, however unknowingly, injured yourself. You must be taking something. I will not let this stand. I will have answers from you or you will give them to someone else.”

A silence descended between them as Dean considered. He could not find any evidence that Jo was lying. She would do exactly as she threatened and in truth, Dean did not blame her. If it was Jo in this state and he was the observer, he might have already acted. She watched him as he thought it over, her eyes hard, but he could still see the concern for him there; the love.

“Untie me, Jo. Untie me and see if Pamela will provide more of that tea, then I will tell you.”

Chapter Text

XXX

Dean re-entered D’Or three days after the wedding feeling as though he was walking towards his own end. After his conversation with Jo, once she had stopped screaming at him, she had arranged for him to stay with Pamela for a while, understanding that he could not bear to return to the castle. Jo had even navigated D’Or and its inhabitants to bring him a fresh supply of clothing. She reasoned that no one would think too much of it if he was seen coming and going from the hut as his previous relationship with Pamela, while not publicly acknowledged, had not been a secret either. Additionally, Pamela was not the type to pry where she was not wanted, which was too much of a boon to be ignored.

The plan had been for Dean to stay there until after the coronation when Jo would make up an excuse to have him leave D’Or and return to Harvelle with her. It had seemed like a good plan until Jo had revealed her idea for the excuse.

XXX

“Are you insane?” Dean demanded.

“I do not think so. Certainly, I am saner than you.” Jo retorted, glaring at him.

“I cannot do that, Jo.”

Jo huffed an unamused, laugh, “You certainly can. In fact, I think it is the only logical thing to do at this point. It would give you an excuse to leave and to return as infrequently as you choose.”

“Jo…”

“You have lost your True Mate, Dean. All for the good of Briton.” Her tone left Dean in no doubt of what she thought of that particular choice. “Can you not see that this would be good for the country, too?” There was more truth in that than was comfortable for Dean. Alliances were key to everything and yet…

“Jo, we’re both Alphas. How could we marry?”

She raised an eyebrow, “That is your biggest concern with my plan?”

“Hardly, but it is certainly one that would concern others.”

“You know as well as I, there is no true impediment to a female and male Alpha mating. People would gossip and then they would find something else to talk about. Our close relationship would mitigate it anyway, I should think.” That was also true. There was something of a stigma attached to it, but, at the same time, it worked the same as any other type of mating.

“Jo…”

“You would be helping me, too.”

“How so?”

“You would be helping me to secure my position as Lady Harvelle.” She frowned, “When the unfortunate time comes.”

Since Dean did not want to consider the death of Lady Ellen any more than Jo, he moved on, “They would look to me, Jo. You know that, however much I wish it was different, however much I would hate it…”

She nodded but still looked unconcerned, “They will, and you will look to me, will you not?”

“I cannot…” Dean felt his cheeks colouring as he avoided her eyes, “I think we have already established that I cannot…with you. You are my sister.”

That sentiment brought a genuine smile to her face for the first time since Dean had told her the truth and she reached out to clasp his hand in hers. “I agree, it is distasteful. But it would only need to be done once, for the mating.”

“And pups?” Dean challenged.

“I will not need you for pups, Dean. If and when I am ready, I will take a lover, one who can be trusted and you will simply raise the pup with me. Would you not be able to love a child of mine?”

Dean ignored that, as it was foolish. Of course, he would worship any pup that was born of Jo. “And if your future lover objects?”

Jo shook her head, dismissing his concerns, “My family will always come first, I would not take a lover who could not accept the situation.”

“It is an easy thing to say until you meet your True Mate.”

“I doubt I will ever be that fortunate.” Dean physically flinched at her words and Jo immediately, looked contrite.

“Apologies.” Dean waved away her concerns. They had larger ones, currently.

“I…I still…”

“Think it over, Dean. You have some time.”

XXX

And the truth was, Dean had done nothing but think it over. He would be expected to marry anyway and the more he thought about it, the less crazy it seemed that he should take Jo. He would never be able to be a good mate, not truly. But perhaps, just perhaps, he could be a good husband. He already loved Jo anyway.

His mind had pulled him back and forth for days. It was difficult to argue with Jo’s logic. The only issue lay with Dean and the horror he felt at the idea of it. How could he vow to belong to Jo and Jo alone, when he knew he would always belong to another? Even if Jo herself knew the truth of the situation, it seemed blasphemous.

His tumult over the whole thing was yet another reason he had been so unhappy to receive a summons from the castle. His father had tracked him down with little difficulty and had requested Dean’s presence. John thought it was time for Castiel’s second training session; he even added a comment that he thought they had delayed it too long already.

Dean had tried to think of a reason, any reason, to excuse himself from the task but there was none. So, he walked through the doors of the castle, a sick feeling rising inside of his chest. It still smelled like home and comfort, but it felt hollow. All he could think of was what was waiting for him as he continued on his way. Castiel, who had now been claimed, however impermanently, by another.

Dean almost turned around and walked back out of the castle. He had barely been able to survive the wedding ceremony without losing all control. Jo’s description of how she had found him had appalled him, but he had been far from surprised. Everything inside of Dean cried out that this was wrong; this was not the way it was supposed to be.

The pain in his hands had been steadily receding over the past few days, thanks partly to Alphas’ more rapid healing and Pamela’s careful treatment. Now, he deliberately clenched his fists, counting on the discomfort to ground him.

Pamela had refused to give him Valerian, at first, and he had been reluctant to return to the castle in search of it. She had finally conceded this morning when Jo, who had been Pamela’s strongest ally, switched her allegiance and insisted that Dean would need something to help him through the day. Jo understood, now. Dean could clearly see Pamela’s curiosity burning below the surface but, mercifully, she had not asked any additional questions.

She had, however, refused to hand over a large amount to Dean and had, instead, administered two drops herself. Dean was terrified that it was not going to be enough. His lack of self-control the night of the wedding was worrying and now he was going to find himself in the same room as Castiel.

The scent of the Omega was in the air even before Dean reached the training room. Dean was sure that he would be able to track Castiel across long distances, if only there was the smallest trace of him on a breeze. Rather than enjoying it, Dean cursed it and resolved to breathe through his mouth as much as possible.

Castiel sat, perched on a bench in the corner on the opposite side of the room, when Dean arrived. Sam took the space to one side of the Omega and Anna occupied the other. They were leant over the same book, apparently fascinated by whatever they were reading. Dean swallowed hard, surveying the situation. He had expected John to attend this session. Somehow, his father’s absence seemed ominous.

Dean cleared his throat to announce his presence and three sets of eyes looked up at him. “Dean!” Sammy leapt to his feet and bounded across the room to Dean’s side. For a moment, Dean expected skinny arms to wrap around his waist, but, apparently, Sam was getting too old for that now. The boy looked up at Dean reproachfully, “I have not seen you in days! Not since the wedding. Have you been with Pamela all this time?” Sam asked the question quietly but it made no difference. Dean could feel Castiel’s eyes on him.

“I have been staying with her, yes, but not in the way you think.”

Sam snorted, “Of course. You are just a houseguest.” Dean ruffled his hair and Sammy batted the encroaching hand away,

“You think you know everything, Sammy.”

“I know you.”

Dean decided to change the subject, “Is father not coming?”

“He was going to, but Lord Robert is due to leave today and requested an audience.”

Dean swallowed hard, “Do you want to do some training, too?” Dean asked.

“No, I had a session yesterday. I was just waiting for you.” Dean felt a momentary flare of panic at the idea that Sam was planning to leave him alone with Castiel and Anna but he only had a few seconds to consider it as his brother continued speaking. “I wanted to see if you would take me fishing tomorrow?”

“I have things to…” Dean began to answer automatically, still mainly considering his current situation, but he had been an older brother for a long time and he could not but see the way Sammy’s shoulders slumped. Even more painful, Sammy did not look surprised, just resigned. He quickly changed tack, “But it can wait. Yes, be ready early and we will spend the whole day.”

Sammy looked up at Dean, eyes glinting happily and this time, he hugged his brother fiercely round the waist. “Gratitude.”

Dean answered with a hug of his own, “Are you staying?” He asked, hopefully.

Sam shook his dark, shaggy head, “No, I have a book waiting for me.”

Dean let out a small, panicked chuckle and gestured over to the corner where Anna and Castiel were still sat. “Is there something wrong with that one?”

“Yes, it’s not the one I want.” Sam said, still beaming with happiness at their plans for the next day. He extracted himself from Dean’s arms and threw a careless wave over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Castiel, Anna.” Sam hurried from the room without so much as a backward glance and there was nothing else for Dean to distract himself with.

When Dean looked, Castiel was on his feet with his hands clasped together in front of him. “John told me he had summoned you,” Castiel said, completely unnecessarily. Dean did not point out the ridiculousness of the statement and simply nodded. There were a million things he wanted to say but he could not think of a single one; they had all been said before. Blue eyes stared back at him and Dean found himself annoyed by Castiel’s calm appearance. It did not seem fair that Castiel was so able to control himself when Dean felt as though he was coming apart.

“We should begin, I suppose.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

Castiel took a step forward, “What would you like me to do?”

Since that was a statement with many possible answers, Dean chose the simplest one and indicated a spot in the centre of the room, “Stand there.”

The Omega was moving before Dean had dropped his arm, “As you say.”

Dean hesitated, still almost in the doorway, while Castiel watched him. Conflicting feelings roiled inside his chest and it took everything he had to cross the room and take his place in front of the Omega. “Now, if…” Dean stared into Castiel’s eyes and the words just died on his tongue. Everything was slipping away.

They were as close to alone as they had been since that day in the woods but truly, the time was longer. Dean had not been in his right mind then. It was in fact, the first time since their crossing to Briton that Dean knew he could say anything without fear of being overheard by someone who could be dangerous. He wondered if he should be happy, but he was not. A wave of something close to despair washed over him as he was struck by the futility of it all; it seemed so pointless. It had been long, long weeks and he had managed nothing; accomplished nothing. Everything was as it had been then and yet, somehow worse.

He could not have said why it affected him so profoundly at that moment. He just stood, looking as Castiel and realised, he would never not want his Omega, his True Mate. There would never come a day when he did not crave the man in front of him. It did not matter whether Dean stayed at D’Or or travelled to Harvelle and married Jo, he would never be free. He would lay down to sleep every night and see blue eyes; he would dream of an Omega who fit into his arms perfectly and smelled of cinnamon and dawn and Spring and…Dean felt tears sting his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to regain some control over himself.

In so doing, he slipped and drew in a deep breath. The scent of his Omega was there and the stench of that ludicrous lavender but also, Dean could smell John of Winchester as though his father was in the room with them. He could not swallow the growl that ripped its way up from his chest. Castiel’s eyes widened but Dean did not have time to consider the best thing to do. He staggered backwards, as far away as he could get.

When he stumbled over his own feet, Dean kept moving, dragging himself backwards across the floor until his back met the cold stone. He could not breathe that terrible combination in again and retain anything resembling control. Dean turned his head and tried to focus on nothing but the feel of the wall against his heated face. He could not bear it. He could not stand it. It had to go away, now. “Leave. Get out of here. Please.”

XXX

Castiel watched, horrified as Dean tried to bury himself in solid stone, fingernails scrabbling fiercely. “Dean?”

“I said, get out,” Dean hissed, but he did not turn his head to look again. “I can smell…him, it’s all over you. You need to leave, now.”

“My prince,” Anna’s fingers closed gently over Castiel’s wrist. “Perhaps we should go?”

Castiel did not even look at her. All his focus was on Dean, his poor Alpha. Castiel had always cared about other people and so, logically he had understood Dean’s past reasoning, however much he hated it. The problem was that there was something more important than the faceless masses to Castiel, now. He could not walk away; he was so very tired of walking away. It had not accomplished anything, anyway. Dean was in pain and Castiel was feeling it, too. He shook his head, still not looking at Anna, “I will stay, but you should go.”

“I will not leave you here.” Anna sounded indignant but it mattered little.

“Oh yes, you will. Because I am commanding you to do so.”

“My prince…”

“I said, go,” Castiel said, raising his voice for the first time. “I need to be here.” Castiel pulled his arm free of her hold and heard Anna sigh behind him. He knew she was afraid for him, but every instinct told him there was no reason for her concern. He waited until the sound of her retreating footsteps echoed through the room. When Castiel was satisfied that they were alone, he took a cautious step towards Dean. The Alpha had stopped clawing at the wall, now he was holding his head in his hands, breathing hard through his mouth.

“Castiel, you need to leave, too.”

Castiel felt as though his heart was breaking in his chest. All his carefully, painstakingly crafted self-control was slipping away. It would have taken more than one man to drag him from the room at that moment. “I think not,” he said, gently, moving closer.

“You are not listening,” Dean growled, Castiel could see that the Alpha had screwed his eyes shut. “I do not have control of myself. I could hurt you.”

If there had been anything remotely funny about the situation, Castiel would have laughed, “You would never hurt me.”

He moved closer and Dean finally looked at him again. “Stop!” The Alpha’s eyes widened in panic when he saw that Castiel was no more than ten paces away. “You…You are not…not mine, anymore. Now you are his and I…”

“I am not his, I…” Castiel began but Dean cut him off.

“You are,” Dean insisted, eyes flashing. “And the worst of it?”

“Tell me.”

“You do not seem to care.”

Castiel gaped for several seconds, unable to find the words in the face of such a ridiculous statement. Dean was glaring at him and Castiel could hear the Alpha growling quietly under his breath, yet Castiel still moved forwards. He could not seem to stop himself, “How can you think that?”

Dean looked away again but almost immediately, turned back, “I see you. You are so calm, so content.”

Tears welled in Castiel’s eyes. How could Dean believe he was the only one suffering? Surely, it was not possible. “I am not content, Dean. I am…”

“What? What are you?” Dean demanded.

Castiel took another step forwards. He could reach out now and at a stretch, touch the Alpha, if he wished. He did not, instead he just crouched low, looked at Dean and felt the tears roll down his cheeks. “I am beaten. When you told me, on the crossing that I had to live with this, I think a small part of me died.” Dean’s eyes widened but he did not interrupt. “I have been…nothing, ever since. I have existed like this, because you told me I had to. All I had left was what you told me you wanted. This was it, was it not?” Castiel wondered if he should feel guilty for reminding Dean that everything that had happened since Ireland had happened at Dean’s request, but he could not. Castiel was partly to blame. He had created the fiction of Michael and he would be responsible for that, but this was not completely his fault.

“I…” Dean’s voice tapered off, but he was not growling anymore.

“Do you know what I felt during my wedding ceremony? Almost nothing. I felt as though I was sinking into a dark hole that I would never be able to climb out of and I was not even afraid, because I can barely feel anything anymore.” Dean just stared at Castiel, his fathomless green eyes, pinning Castiel in place. “And I do not belong to your father.”

“I can smell him. He is all over you.”

“I share his bed but he has not…” Castiel wiped his face free of tears despite the fact that they were still falling. He knew his cheeks were colouring and he felt like a fool but he had to get the words out. Dean needed to know the truth. “He has not had me.”

Dean looked as though he did not dare believe it, however much he wanted it to be true. “Why? Why would he not…”

“Because, I did not want him,” Castiel said helplessly. “And he knew it. I am not his, Dean.”

Dean stared hard at Castiel and the Omega felt as though he was being stripped bare. If Dean was looking for honesty then Castiel had nothing to hide. John had not laid a finger on him since their wedding night, much to Castiel’s relief. He waited, expecting a battery of questions to come flying at him at any moment but Dean did not speak. Instead, the Alpha reached out, seized Castiel’s arm and pulled.

The Omega was tugged off balance and would have hit the floor but hands were touching him and arms wrapping around him and he thought his heart might be about to burst because Dean was holding him once again, finally. The Alpha’s chest was pressed up against his and Castiel gasped at the sensation of Dean’s warmth soaking through their clothes. Nothing had ever felt so very, very right.

Castiel was sobbing now and he could not stop it. He was winding his arms around Dean’s shoulders, clinging, afraid that at any moment, Dean might pull himself away. He breathed deeply, trying to take in as much of the Alpha’s scent as possible before it vanished again. But Dean was not pulling away. His hands were gripping Castiel so tightly the Omega suspected there would be bruises later. “You…are mine.” Dean said, panting against the soft skin of Castiel’s neck, warm breath that felt even better than the Omega remembered. Castiel wept harder. He wanted to fold himself into Dean and never come out.

“Yes, yes Alpha, of course.” Dean’s hand slid into Castiel’s hair and tugged. Castiel whined at being pulled away from the delicious scent of Dean’s neck but he did not fight. He was rewarded when warm lips closed over his own. It had been so long, too long, since he had tasted Dean and he could not hold himself in check. He kissed back with everything he had, pouring days and weeks and months of frustration and longing into it. Castiel could feel that Dean was moving them somehow, somewhere, but he did not care. If Dean wanted to carry him from the room and run away, he would not object for one moment. All he cared about was that they keep kissing.

Dean’s tongue was brushing his, stroking and Castiel whimpered desperately. He wanted more. He wanted everything. It was not until he felt Dean’s weight come to rest on top of his own chest that he realised they were laying on the floor; Dean pinning Castiel to the cold stone. Taking full advantage of the situation, Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, doing everything he could to pull the Alpha closer. When Dean finally broke the kiss, Castiel moaned, “No…no, please…I need more…” His fingers tugged uselessly at Dean’s tunic. “Please, do not stop. I cannot bear for you to stop now.”

The fingers were suddenly back in his hair, tugging firmly and Castiel was bearing his neck. Dean licked a wet stripe along the exposed skin, dragging his teeth gently. Shivers coursed through Castiel’s body. It felt as though he was waking up after having been asleep for months and he was waking up in heaven. His hands gripped at Dean’s shoulders, legs tight around the Alpha’s hips. Dean began toying with Castiel’s lips, teasing with nipping kisses, planted all over the Omega’s mouth. Castiel lay beneath Dean, ridiculously content. He would lie here forever, if Dean wished it.

He allowed his hands to trace the Alpha’s shoulders and neck, but the rest of him stayed still. Until he felt Dean push his hips downwards. Castiel cried out at the feeling of Dean’s hardened cock pressing down, before the Alpha swallowed the sound with his own mouth. He whimpered into the kiss, hands clutching convulsively at Dean’s shoulders. He had not even realised he was hard until Dean pushed against him. The teasing kisses were back as Dean pushed their bodies together, rocking back and forth, “You did not want him, you said. Do you want me, Castiel?”

“Yes,” Castiel sighed. His fingers were hurting with his grip on Dean’s tunic. If the Alpha stopped, Castiel would die, he knew it.

Dean rocked his hips again, his breath coming in ragged pants, “You were not slick for him, were you?”

Castiel curled upwards, trying to keep as much contact as he could. It was hard to thrust his hips in this position, but there was no real need. Dean’s movements were total, inexorable and they were driving him closer to a precipice. “No…not slick…not hard…”

Dean’s fingers carded through Castiel’s hair and he pulled back, looking down. “You are now.”

There was more tenderness in his voice than Castiel had ever hoped to hear again. “Yes, for you.” Castiel’s legs were trembling but he refused to let go of Dean’s hips. He could feel slick trickling slowly from his hole. His cock was throbbing from the friction and the contact and just…Dean. Dean was watching Castiel and the Omega could not help but wonder what his Alpha saw. He hoped it was pleasing.

Dean shifted and rocked and held Castiel, moving them together. Following a particularly good thrust, Dean’s eyes fluttered and he leaned down to claim Castiel’s mouth again. The kiss was more now, more pressing, more ferocious and Castiel moaned into Dean’s mouth. When the kiss broke, Dean’s hips were moving more quickly and he was panting more heavily, “Oh God, Castiel…you smell so…”

“Dean, ohhhhhh…” His cock was throbbing with every movement of Dean’s hips. The drag and slide was so good. He finally unwrapped his legs and planted both feet on the floor, bracing himself into position. “More…please…”

Dean was kissing Castiel’s neck, trailing wet kisses along the Omega’s jaw. “What do you want, my Omega?”

Castiel could barely speak. His breathing was too erratic and it was difficult to find the correct words, “Everything. I want you.”

“Tell me.”

Castiel pressed his lips close to Dean’s ear, “I want you inside me. I want you to strip me bare and put me on my knees. I want you to hold me down. I want to present for you. I want your knot.”

Dean’s whole body shuddered on top of Castiel, his hips jerking as he sought more pleasure, “Oh, God! Yes, Casti...” Castiel sucked Dean’s earlobe into his mouth, nibbling at the soft skin. More slick poured from his hole as Dean thrust his hips again. He body was tense, tauter than the string of a bow. He wanted Dean to continue, but thought he might not be able to survive the end of this.

“So empty, Dean. Alpha.” Dean growled and kissed Castiel’s neck, his shoulder, dragging his tunic down when it got in the way,

“You are mine, Omega. You belong to me. Your slick, your hole, your body, it’s all mine.” Dean’s hips pressed, his cock so hard against Castiel’s own. The Omega gasped as Dean bit down on the skin of his shoulder, where the Alpha had put his teeth once before. “And I am yours. Always.”

Castiel wailed as his cock released, his body trembling with the force of it. His hips stuttered as the pleasure drew out, Dean’s movements making it last. He had forgotten how good it could feel. Dean’s lips covered his once again, to swallow the sounds coming from the Omega’s throat, still moving frantically. The Alpha thrust once, twice, thrice more and then stilled, his body coming to rest heavily against Castiel’s own.

Dean’s kisses slowed as his muscles softened. There was a warm, wet mess inside of his leggings, but he loved it; it was because of Dean. “Alpha,” Castiel sighed as he felt his body shudder, calming slowly.

Dean was pressing gentle kisses to Castiel’s face, “Sweet Omega, good Omega.” He wrapped his arms around Dean, once again afraid that this moment might be ripped away. Castiel was willing to do anything to stop that from happening. “I was mad to think I could stay away from you forever. No matter how much I took I…”

Dean’s voice trailed away but it was too late. Castiel had already heard enough. He felt a weak, uneasy stirring in his belly. It had to fight through the waves of contentment but his concern for his Alpha won out. “Dean, what have you been doing to yourself?” Castiel asked, almost whispering. “I know you must have been taking something.”

Dean blinked several times. “You…” Dean’s voice came out as a croak and he swallowed hard. “You have been masking your scent.”

Castiel nodded, admitting his ploy without a thought. He had assumed that Dean would guess the reason for the constant application of lavender oil. “And you have, apparently, been poisoning yourself with something. What is it?” He asked again, more forcefully this time.

Dean obviously wanted to ignore the question, but seemed to find it impossible, “I was told its name is Valerian.”

Castiel’s stomach swooped. He was familiar with Valerian. It was a relatively harmless plant and when used sparingly, it could be effective in treating various things. It made sense that Dean would use it. It was an effective sedative and relaxed the muscles. However, it could lead to horrible complications if it was overused and the withdrawal from prolonged exposure was…dangerous. “How much?”

Dean’s eyes shifted away, “A drop at night to help me sleep.”

Castiel glared at Dean and tapped a finger-tip on the Alpha’s jaw, “You are lying to me.” There was no way that such a limited dose would allow Dean the kind of restraint he had shown.

A tinge of colour suffused Dean’s cheeks, he still refused to look at Castiel. “At first, it was true. Then, I was taking more. But Pamela has refused to give me any since your wedding. Until today, anyway.”

Castiel did not know what to feel. It was good that Dean had stopped taking it and it certainly made sense of the previous weeks, but the idea that the Alpha has resorted to such desperate measures made Castiel want to cry again. “Dean, you must stop completely. Valerian is only safe for limited, short-term use.”

The Alpha would still not look at him, “I needed it.” “You must stop it, now,” he insisted.

“You must. It can become addictive. Your heart...”

Dean finally met Castiel’s eyes again, “You were going to try something to make you sleep. I heard you talking to Anna in the woods.”

Castiel refused to be baited. Whatever he had been discussing with Anna was not relevant at this moment; all that mattered was Dean. Castiel clung to Dean’s shoulders. It did not matter where they were or what they had been doing only moments before. This was all that mattered right now. “Please, Alpha.”

Dean flinched at the plea and his jaw clenched, “Stop.”

Dean had to stop taking the drug. It was too dangerous and the fact that Castiel was the reason for it was more than he could bear. “Please, please, stop it. You must.”

“How am I to…"

“You could die. You must stop it, now. Please.” When Dean said nothing Castiel became frantic and dragged the unresisting body closer, pressing desperate kisses to the Alpha’s face. He knew that the longer they lay together like this, the greater the risk and that if someone entered the room there was no way to explain their current positions but he did not care. Nothing mattered if he could not get through to Dean now. “Please,” he whispered brokenly. “Please, Alpha. Please. Please.”

“Castiel…”

“I cannot…bear it, Dean. I…cannot. You must stop. I…” His breath was hitching, his words becoming difficult to understand. His heart was thudding in his chest as he tried to find the words he needed to convince Dean. It might be easier to think if Castiel could not still taste Dean on his tongue.

“How am I to get through each day without it? It was the only reason I felt stable enough to return…for your wedding.”

Castiel ignored the reminder. He did not want to think about his wedding or about John. He knew he should care but it was too hard. All he cared about in that moment was Dean. He had spent so long denying himself what he wanted but the dam had broken. He was crying again, tears spilling down from his eyes and straight into his hair, laid out as he was, “Please…do not leave me. Not again.”

“I do not want to leave you,” Dean whispered as though confessing a terrible secret. He leant forwards the last few inches and pressed their lips together. Castiel moaned and arched his back, wanting Dean closer, always closer. They kissed for seconds, minutes or hours, Castiel was not sure, but when Dean pulled back and looked down, his green eyes were almost black. “Would I even survive it again? Leaving you?”

Castiel smiled, sadly, “I know I would not.”

Dean sighed heavily, staring down at the Omega. He opened his mouth to reply, but he never got the chance. Instead, a gasp of horror interrupted their conversation. Dean’s attention immediately switched to the open doorway and Castiel tried to look, too. However, Dean was still holding him tightly and it was difficult to see. Fortunately, he did not have to wait very long as Joanna of Harvelle’s voice filled the room. She could hiss words very loudly, it seemed. “What in the name of God are you doing?”

Castiel thought frantically, trying to come up with some explanation for their current positions, but the blonde Alpha was already striding into the room. He could hear her footsteps. Castiel looked back at Dean, expecting to see anger or panic, but instead, all he saw was a small frown. “Jo…”

“It smells like a brothel in here,” Jo announced still moving around behind him.

Dean was getting to his feet and he offered Castiel a hand. Completely bewildered, Castiel let himself be pulled up from the floor, pleased to find himself instantly wrapped in his Alpha’s arms. “We were…I was…” Dean stuttered.

“I know what you were doing, you fool of an Alpha.” She was glaring at Dean as she spoke, but when her attention shifted to Castiel, her eyes softened. “It seems fortune decided to curse you, giving you such an idiot for a True Mate.”

Castiel looked up at Dean, his mouth hanging open with shock, “You…you told her?”

Dean met Castiel’s eyes and traced a soothing hand up and down the Omega’s spine, “After my performance at your wedding, I had little choice.”

He wanted to ask what Dean was talking about but he was not given a chance. Joanna had thrown open a window and was now hurrying towards them. “This room might smell bad, but the two of you smell worse.” Castiel was surprised to hear Dean let out a small growl and he looked up at the Alpha. Joanna, however, seemed far from concerned. “Save your growls for those who are impressed by them. We must get you both out of the castle. Now.”

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked.

“Somewhere you can wash up before someone else discovers...this.” She waved a hand at the pair of them. Castiel stood frozen in Dean’s arms, trying to understand everything that was happening but he was not given much time. When they did not immediately follow her, Jo turned back to them, eyes flashing. “Now, would be an appropriate time.”

Chapter Text

XXX

Jo glanced around to make sure they were alone. Dean appreciated her concern but there was no real need. People came into the woods in Spring, Summer and Autumn, but very few ventured so far during the Winter months and it was particularly cold that day. “Just, wait here. I’ll go and fetch you some clothes from Pamela’s house,” Jo said.

“What about, Castiel?” Dean asked, unfastening the cloak from around his own shoulders and draping it around the Omega. He would have handed it over sooner, but they had been more concerned with cleaning up as best they could, getting out of the castle and into the woods unseen. He cursed his own thoughtlessness when he felt Castiel shiver under his hands. “He can hardly borrow something of mine, not if the intent is to avoid him smelling like me.”

“If you find, Anna, she’ll give you whatever you need. She will probably be in my rooms or in the library with Sam,” Castiel’s voice trembled slightly as he shivered and Dean draped an arm around his Omega, pulling the unresisting body close to his side.

Jo’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, “She knows?”

Castiel nodded, “She does.”

Jo rounded on Dean, “And you hid it from me?”

“Now? You would like to discuss this, now?” Dean indicated where they were standing and Jo conceded with poor grace.

She waved her hand towards the west, “Very well, but I will not forget this. Head to the river. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” She turned on her heel and headed back the way they had come, leaving Dean and Castiel alone.

Despite the circumstances and the location, Dean could not stop the smile from crossing his face as he looked into blue eyes. “Are you alright?” Castiel nodded and leant closer to Dean, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. “Come with me?”

“Of course.” Castiel seemed reluctant to separate and Dean was not inclined to insist. They began to walk, a little awkwardly, through the woods, picking their way carefully over roots and fallen branches, Dean keeping a tight hold around Castiel’s shoulders. His tunic and leggings were poor defence against the wind but Castiel had stopped shivering, so he kept them moving towards their destination. “You…have been staying with Pamela?” Castiel asked, quietly.

Dean looked down but the Omega was keeping his eyes fixed on the ground; apparently watching where he put his feet. Dean was not fooled. “Yes, she complains she can hear me snoring even with the door closed.” Castiel looked up and offered a small smile but Dean could clearly see the relief there.

The silence descended again but it did not feel uncomfortable, at first. However, as they continued on their way, Dean began to feel a tingle of unease at Castiel’s silence. It had all seemed so clear in the training room when he took the Omega in his arms; Castiel wanted him and he wanted Castiel. He had spent so long fighting every impulse regarding his True Mate, even using a drug to help him, but the need had not waned, not truly. The sight of Castiel in pain was too much to bear. A small part of him had hated his Omega for the calm he was able to maintain but hearing Castiel call himself ‘beaten’ had been too much; too much for Dean.

Now, he had given into it, they both had. Dean wondered if he should be feeling guilt. He suspected that would come, later. At that moment, all he felt was a poorly concealed sense of satisfaction and a not small amount of joy. His Alpha was finally happy, roaring his pleasure at the fact that their mate was back. His only concern now was for Castiel, who was still not speaking.

They walked with the Omega tucked into his side and Dean loved it. The scent tickled his nose and Dean allowed himself to breathe deeply. The only thing missing was Castiel’s voice. He wanted to hear his Omega speak and laugh like they had before. Instead, it was the sound of running water that finally filled his ears and then, Dean could not stand it any longer. “Castiel, are you…well?”

Castiel kept his head bowed, “Yes, of course.”

Refusing to be diverted, Dean halted and touched gentle fingers to Castiel’s chin, forcing those blue eyes to meet his, “Then why are you not speaking to me? You did not have such difficulties before.”

Castiel clearly wanted to look away but Dean held on with a firm but gentle grip. Eventually, Castiel’s teeth bit into his lip and he whispered, “Because…I am afraid.”

“Of what?” Whatever Dean had been expecting, it was not this.

Castiel hesitated again, but finally confessed, “I am afraid that if I say the wrong thing this will all go away. That you will change your mind and not want me again.”

“Oh, no.” Dean felt an uncomfortable hitch in his chest and wrapped both his arms around Castiel, who immediately pressed himself into the offered embrace. “I always wanted you. I will always want you.”

“Dean…” Castiel breathed his name as though it was a prayer and in that moment, Dean hated himself. He was a bad Alpha. It was his job to ensure his Omega never felt this way. He was supposed to make it so that his True Mate never doubted that he was valued, cared for, worshipped. Instead, he had ignored and neglected Castiel.

Logically, he knew that there had been reasons for his actions, and good ones. It was just that they seemed to pale when faced with Castiel’s desperate grip around Dean’s waist as he buried his face in Dean’s neck, breathing deeply. Dean had been offered a gift, one that few ever received, and he had not treated it with the reverence it deserved.

If he had ever thought that Castiel was content before, such thoughts were banished. He had always been able to smell the Omega beneath the lavender but now, everything was so much clearer. Perhaps it was the lack of heavy dose of the drug or perhaps it was just that he was allowing himself to notice it more fully than he had before. Dean did not know and it did not matter. He took deep breaths and the mixture of scents made his stomach roil. There was fear and pain and desperation but within it, a sort of frantic happiness that Dean knew could only be the result of being back in his Alpha’s arms.

Dean pressed gentle kisses to Castiel’s temple and hair. “Always want you. Always wanted you,” he said, quietly. A satisfied rumbling erupted from his chest when he felt Castiel’s lips touch the bare skin of his throat. The cold was forgotten. He did not need anything else to warm him down to the bone.

He knew that they needed to talk, to discuss what they would do now, but it was so good to hold Castiel again, that the idea of cutting the moment short was physically painful. “Sit with me?” Dean asked and felt Castiel nod against his neck.

The Omega did not loosen his grip as Dean slowly walked them to the closest tree. It would have been easier to move if they were not attached but Dean would not have released his hold for anything. Instead, he adjusted and wriggled and shifted until he could lower them into a sitting position, his back resting against the trunk. Castiel settled across Dean’s lap sideways and he hugged the Omega as close as he could manage. Castiel let out a low whine but his scent was mostly content. Dean mumbled comforting words and stroked his hands up and down Castiel’s back until any trace of discomfort disappeared.

Castiel kept wriggling in Dean’s arms but he was not trying to escape. Instead, he kept trying to press himself ever closer and Dean soaked up every speck of contact. When their affectionate touches naturally evolved into kisses against bare patches of skin, it was all Dean could do not to throw Castiel down on the forest floor and tear all the clothing from his Omega’s body; cold, be damned.

He kept remembering the time they had spent in that small cave on the beach and he craved that same intimacy afresh; the feeling of his Omega beneath him, above him, all around him. It was Castiel who brought their mouths back together, and as soon as Dean tasted cinnamon on his tongue, his incorrigible cock stirred between his legs. “I want you, Omega. Now and always,” Dean mumbled against Castiel’s lips.

The Omega gasped and brushed his tongue against Dean’s lower lip. Either Dean had forgotten, or he had never truly appreciated the taste of Castiel’s perfect mouth. “I still love to hear you call me that.”

Dean’s inner Alpha howled with pleasure, “My Omega, my perfect, sweet, good Omega.” Castiel whimpered into the kiss and Dean could smell fresh slick on the air. The scent was mixed with his own arousal and the combination was making it hard to focus. His hands were in Castiel’s hair, though he could not remember moving them there. They were tugging gently, this way and that, fitting their mouths together in so many different ways. “I can smell you,” Dean confided. “You are growing slick for me.”

Castiel whined low, “And you are hard for me.”

There was no denying it. His cock was heavy between his legs, throbbing with each beat of his heart. Castiel’s weight pressed down on it and Dean was trying very hard not to thrust upwards. “Of course,” Dean admitted. “I told you, I always want you.”

“Have me then, Alpha. Have me, now.” Castiel was shifting in Dean’s lap, sounding a little desperate. He was attempting to drape the cloak around them both.

“We cannot do this here,” Dean protested. “You would freeze.” His hands belied his words, trailing down to squeeze at the flesh of his Omega’s backside. He wanted that scent. He wanted to lick and suck and taste.

“Not with you holding me.” Castiel’s fingers began to fumble downwards until they found the ties on Dean’s leggings, “Please, Alpha. Soon we will have to return to the castle. I would have the memory, at least.”

Castiel’s words were seductive and painful at the same time. Whatever Dean said, the Omega still expected this moment to come to an end and feared that there would be nothing else after it. His brain began to work furiously, as furiously as it could with Castiel squirming in his lap. As far as Dean was concerned, the possibility of abstaining from each other was past now. It was no longer a question of ‘if’ or ‘when’ but rather, ‘how’?

When cold fingers slipped beneath his leggings, Dean’s fingers tightened convulsively in Castiel’s hair. “We should not…” Dean tried to insist weakly. It was the truth. They were entirely exposed. It was unlikely that anyone would come into the woods but certainly not impossible. In addition, Jo could return at any time and find them. Dean tried to decide how much time they had together, alone; Jo would have to fetch him clothes, conceal them somehow, then find Anna and…

Castiel whimpered and reached further, closing his hand around Dean’s hard cock. “Please…”

Dean groaned, unable to resist the pleading, not when he was desperate for the same thing. He abandoned Castiel’s hair and reached for the ties above the Omega’s waist, thankful when they came undone with little effort. This was reckless and foolish but, all his reasons for abstaining were slipping away from him. The scent of slick was all around him and Dean wanted it. His Omega still sat across his lap and Dean was thankful the position made it easier to shove the leggings away. As soon as his legs were free, Castiel scrambled to settle himself astride Dean.

Dean was concerned that the ground would be uncomfortably hard and cold against Castiel’s knees. He rubbed his hands over the warm skin, trying to decide the best way to keep his Omega covered, however Castiel seemed determined to prevent Dean from thinking too much. As soon as he was seated on Dean again, the scent of fresh slick grew heavier on the air and the cool fingers were back to stroking his cock.

The half-gasp, half-growl that ripped its way out of Dean’s chest was not a sound he could ever remember having made before but the feeling of Castiel’s touch on his cock was almost too much, too good. He wanted to yell and cry out but also, he wanted to bury his face in the Omega’s neck and weep for the perfection of it. His eyes slammed shut as he tried to breathe.

The warm, wet touch of Castiel’s hole brought him back to himself instantly. The Omega was moving above him, a hand braced behind Dean as he shifted himself closer, lining them up. Dean’s hands flew to Castiel’s hips, grasping almost hard enough to bruise, “Wait, Omega…”
Castiel looked down at him with wet blue eyes. He shook his head, almost frantic, “No…please, Alpha. I want you. You must let me…Just once, please…”

Dean kept his grip tight with his left hand, while his right slid behind Castiel, searching out the source of that delicious scent. The Omega gasped, his back arching, when Dean’s fingers brushed over his hole. “No, not just once. Again, and again. Always.”

“Dean…” Whatever Castiel had been about to say was cut off when Dean slid a finger inside. His Omega was soaked and supple under his touch. Dean swallowed hard and quickly added a second finger to the needy hole.

Castiel fell forward as Dean stretched him out gently. There was little resistance but Dean refused to hurt his beautiful Omega, not again. He pressed kisses to the side of Castiel’s face as he probed deeper. When Castiel shuddered, and let out a muffled groan, Dean knew he had found what he was looking for. Castiel’s fingers gripped Dean’s shoulders tightly as his back arched. “I will not let us be parted. We will be together,” Dean whispered.

Castiel whimpered, his hips still moving, trying to force Dean deeper, “Please…do not promise, not unless…”

“I mean it.” Dean slid his fingers free. He wanted to bring them to his mouth so he could taste his Omega again, but Castiel had moaned at the loss of contact. Not wanting to make either of them wait any longer, he drew Castiel closer to his body and stroked his wet hand up and down his cock, spreading slick over it. He had intended to push in gently, to give Castiel time to adjust to the sensation, but his Omega was too eager for such teasing.

As soon as the head of Dean’s cock brushed the Omega’s hole, Castiel pushed down. Dean let out a gasp and his head hit the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. “Omega…” Castiel was so warm and wet and tight around his cock; Dean fit as perfectly as he remembered.
Castiel let out a low whine once Dean was inside and sank down more slowly until he could move no further. Dean was finding it hard to breathe properly. All he could do was wrap his arms around Castiel and hold the Omega as tightly as possible. He did not feel the need to move at first, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

XXX

Castiel let himself be held. His Alpha was inside of him again and there was nothing else he needed in that moment. His heart was beating thunderously in his chest and he tried to calm himself. He was determined to remember every moment of this exactly. His hands were still gripping Dean’s shoulders and he forced himself to release his grip so he could stroke his fingers through the short hair at the nape of the Alpha’s neck. Dean’s face was pressed against Castiel’s neck and when he felt a warm tongue lick a stripe across his throat, his whole body shuddered. His Alpha groaned and shifted his hips, “Dean…so good…”

“Hmmm,” Dean was still licking, still nuzzling and it felt wonderful, but when Castiel felt the graze of teeth against his skin, his whole body tensed. He wanted Dean to bite down. He remembered feeling the same way when they were together in the cave. It did not matter if the claim would not take outside of his heat, Castiel wanted Dean to mark him.

He pushed harder on the back of Dean’s head, encouraging his Alpha’s attentions. “I never…I never thought I would…we would…” The words spilled out without his consent or control but he trusted Dean to understand. He had tried to let go of all hope of this ever happening again, but now it was and it was overwhelming.

His body was trembling. He wanted to move, to rock against his Alpha’s body and onto the hard cock that was impaling him. At the same time, he wanted to remain perfectly still and never let this moment pass away. He felt Dean’s strong hands running over his skin beneath the heavy cloak, calming him. “Sweet Omega.”

Castiel fought the urge to weep. He was tired of crying and he was happy at that moment, there was no call for tears. “I cannot let you go, not again,” he said. He was pleased to hear that his voice was steady. Dean had said to him that this would not be their last time together and he wanted to believe it. He was beginning to try to believe it, at least.

“You will not have to.” Castiel felt his belly clench at Dean’s words and the Alpha groaned. “Move, Omega, please. Slowly.”

Castiel did as he was asked and began rocking himself back and forth. Sparks flew in front of his eyes at the sensations it created. The air was cold on his bare legs but he did not truly feel it. Instead, all he felt was his Alpha inside of him; all around him. His cock was aching with the need to be touched but Castiel ignored it. The ache inside of him was worse and he knew the only possible relief was to keep moving.

The Alpha’s cock shifted slightly with his movements and when Castiel rocked backwards just a little further the ache was suddenly, intensely quelled. “Alpha…yes…” He moved again, letting his body do what it needed to.

“Unh…perfect...just like that, Omega.” Castiel kept his movements smooth and fluid. His hips rolled slowly and his Alpha’s cock was rubbing perfectly inside his swollen hole. Part of him wanted more, he wanted to be thrown down and used roughly; he wanted to be claimed, but Dean was correct, this was too perfect.

The Alpha’s breath was starting to speed up; his hands had stopped exploring and had returned to their grip on Castiel’s hips, aiding their movements. With a particularly deep roll, Castiel gasped, feeling is own cock throb between them, leaking profusely. Dean noticed and began to move one of his hands to attend to it but Castiel shook his head, struggling for words. “No, like this. I just want your cock.”

“God…Castiel…” Castiel had thought he liked hearing Dean call him ‘Omega’ and he did, but for some reason the sound of his name at that moment triggered something. He heard a whimper escape his lips and his body ignored all his attempts to maintain their slow pace. He began to roll more quickly on top of Dean, his hips desperate to bring them back together even before they had moved apart. “Yes, use me, Omega. Find your pleasure with my cock inside you…want to please you…all I want…”

Dean was still panting against Castiel’s neck and it was abruptly not enough. He tightened his grip on the Alpha’s neck and dragged their mouths back together. Dean groaned into the kiss, immediately taking advantage of the offer. Tongues touched and brushed as they moved together. Castiel felt a kind of desperate urgency rising inside of him. He would find pleasure here, with his Alpha. But there was something missing; it was not enough. The feel of Dean, the taste of his mouth, the heat of his Alpha’s skin… It mattered not how good it was, how many times they broke and crumbled around each other. It would never be enough until Dean’s teeth sank into his neck and they were mates.

He dragged his mouth away from Dean’s with a cry as his body shuddered. Somehow, Dean’s cock kept feeling better and better. Castiel felt every inch of it inside of him, thrusting, rubbing, drawing out bliss and every time he moved, it grew better. He ground down on his Alpha…his Alpha. It was Dean’s cock inside his hole, Dean’s lips pressing kisses to his face and mouth, Dean’s arms clutching at his back.

Castiel’s cock was throbbing constantly now. He could feel how wet Dean’s tunic was with its fluids. It was so good, so filthy and he rocked desperately, frenzied with need. Dean’s cock was perfect inside of him. It pressed and rubbed and was perfect… “Omega…Castiel…stop…”
Dean’s mouth said the words but his hands were still on Castiel’s hips, encouraging the movements. “Wha…Why?” Castiel gasped, completely incapable of stopping.

“We…will be tied. My knot…”

Suddenly, Castiel understood. Dean’s cock was feeling impossibly better with every thrust because the Alpha’s knot was swelling. He remembered Dean telling him that it did not usually happen outside of a rut or a mate’s heat. Then again, it had happened every time they had lain together. He kept going, pressing down as hard as his body would allow. He had not allowed their bodies to separate by more than a few inches since they had begun, so there was no need to force the knot into his hole, it was swelling already inside. He could not stop, not now. “No matter…I want it…”

“Omega…” There was a warning in Dean’s tone but Castiel could not bear it. He would obey a command if it was given but he did not want to hear it. Dean was his; everything that made him, Dean, belonged to Castiel. He could feel the precipice approaching and he needed it so badly. Slick was pouring from him despite his Alpha’s cock, his own throbbing painfully between them and he thought he might die if Dean refused him.

“Please, Alpha,” Castiel wailed. “Do not deny me, please…not now…”

Dean held him tighter than ever and, for the first time, thrust his hips as much as he could. “Hush, Omega…Anything you want…Anything…”
The Alpha’s words, as much as the shallow thrusts and the swelling knot, finished Castiel. His body tensed and he felt his hole clamp down around Dean; it was as though his body was holding onto his Alpha, never wanting to let go. His cock throbbed angrily between them and there was a moment of incredible tension before everything released.

Castiel threw his head back, crying out, but almost immediately, he felt a hand cover his mouth. His teeth sank into the flesh of Dean’s hand as his cock sputtered between them. It seemed to go on forever, his hole spasming, his cock spilling. He was dimly aware of a growl filling the air and then there was pressure on his shoulder.

As the ripples of pleasure died away slowly, each one causing his body to tense, he was able to open his eyes enough to see that Dean had lowered his head and bitten down on the cloak covering Castiel’s shoulder. His heart ached. He wanted to shove any fabric away and let Dean bite down harder, to draw blood. Instead, he took deep breaths and contented himself with stroking his fingers through Dean’s short hair, soothing the Alpha as his cock painted Castiel’s insides. He pressed kisses to the palm of Dean’s hand, where it still covered his mouth.

He did know how many minutes passed as Dean shook in his arms but he did not care. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that they were expecting another person to join them soon, but it did not seem terribly important. All that mattered was Dean and the fact that they were tied together, as they should be.

When the pressure on his shoulder diminished, Castiel almost wanted to call it back. Fortunately, Dean quickly claimed Castiel’s lips and soothed the yearning with gentle kisses that were somehow still possessive. He could feel the Alpha’s knot settled comfortably inside of him and he gently rolled his hips, ignoring his own sensitivity.

Dean growled low in his throat and thrust slightly, chasing the pleasure Castiel was drawing from him. Castiel clung tightly to his Alpha, pressing kiss after kiss to Dean’s willing mouth. A trickle of fear was slithering its way down his spine. He had known that he wanted Dean, more than anything, but at the same time he feared the end. Dean had told him that they would be together and he tried to cling to those promises. He had to or go mad.

It was Dean who ended the kisses, peering up at Castiel through heavily lidded eyes, “I can smell that, Castiel. Tell me.”

For a moment, Castiel considered insisting that nothing was wrong, but it was pointless. He could smell the concern wafting from his Alpha, which meant that his own fear must be obvious. “Just hold me, for a moment,” he begged. Dean’s arms tightened further and the Alpha did as he was asked. Castiel drifted into a relaxed sort of detachment, determinedly ignoring everything around them. He had what he wanted and he was afraid to let go of the moment.

Dean rocked them slightly and Castiel felt it when the Alpha’s cock spasmed inside of him again. Dean groaned but otherwise ignored the moment, choosing to whisper comforting nonsense in Castiel’s ear while tucking the cloak securely around him. “So good for me…never letting you go…my Omega… mine…”

Castiel wanted to bury himself in his Alpha’s words. It was everything he had wanted to hear since he had left Dean alone in the cave that day in Ireland. The only trouble was that Castiel was not fool enough to believe that all would be simple just because they wanted it to be. As hard as he tried, he could not think of any good option. John of Winchester was now his husband, however absurd that was. They were bound together by law and God. How were they to escape that fact? He wanted to ignore it for longer, forever, but knew he could not. He leant back slightly to look at Dean, sighing heavily, “What are we to do, Dean? What happens to us, now?”

Dean frowned but still reached up and stroked a single finger-tip over Castiel’s forehead. He was silent for long seconds but, somehow, looking into Dean’s green eyes that showed nothing but concern and affection, was comforting. Finally, Dean shook his head, “I have not had much time to think it through but still, as I see it, there are not many options, not if we want to be together.”

Castiel nodded, and tightened his grip on Dean, “I want to be with you, Alpha. That is all I want.”

Dean smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips, “I want to be with you, too.” Dean’s smile disappeared and a frown took its place. He was silent for several seconds and Castiel could almost hear the Alpha thinking. He waited. Eventually, Dean nodded as though making up his mind. “So, we must run.”

“Run?” Castiel would be lying if he said that the thought never occurred to him, but Dean being the one to say it was entirely unexpected.

Dean was still nodding, “It will not be easy.”

“That does not matter to me, but...” Castiel had a list of potential problem and concerns to voice but Dean placed a gentle finger on his lips and Castiel fell silent, waiting. If Dean had an actual plan, Castiel was all ears. His own thoughts had not gone beyond flights of fancy.
“My…” Dean swallowed hard, “Father, did not touch you because you did not want him and he did not wish to hurt you, correct?”

“Yes.” Castiel confirmed, swallowing past the lump of distaste that had formed in his throat. The reminder of John’s kindness towards him was not welcome, but Castiel continued. “He said that he would have to claim me but that he would prefer to wait until…” His voice trailed away as he scented something new coming from Dean; something that smelled suspiciously like jealousy. He reached up to stroke his Alpha’s cheek.

Dean however, seemed to still be in complete control of himself, whatever his scent indicated. He tilted his head into Castiel’s touch but continued, “He plans to wait for your heat, then?”

Castiel decided not to mention that John had basically said as much, simply adding, diplomatically, “I concluded the same thing.”

There was another long silence. Castiel waited, patiently while Dean considered. “Which is not until very early Spring, correct?” Castiel nodded. Dean paused again and when he finally spoke it was with a weary tone, “You know why I chose this path? Regardless of how little I wanted it.”

“You wanted to secure peace for Briton.” Castiel would never forget their talk during the crossing. At the time, it had almost rent his heart in two to hear Dean speak as though their parting was a forgone conclusion. Still, a very small part of him had been filled with admiration for his Alpha’s willingness to sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of his country and its people; a very, very small part.

“And I still do,” Dean said. “So, we must allow the coronation to go ahead, allow my father to be crowned King of Briton, with you at his side. We survive the winter and wait for Spring. Then we run. We must time it carefully. I need to be able to mate you as soon as possible after we leave. A mated pair travelling together is far less suspicious and conspicuous than an unmated Alpha and Omega. A male Omega is unusual enough.”

Castiel was horrified, “But Dean, running together after…that will be treason. Once John is crowned it goes beyond a son betraying his father, however egregiously. You would be guilty of the worst…”

Castiel’s heart was thumping uncomfortably in his chest and, of course, his Alpha noticed. Dean reached up and slid his fingers into Castiel’s hair, stroking gently. The touch calmed Castiel, however much he wanted to continue panicking in the face of Dean’s insanity. “The mating is something I want, but it is only to ensure we cannot be parted should the worst happen and we are discovered. I do not intend for our actions to be known.”

“Please, explain.”

“I am sure there are other things to consider, but for now…” Dean’s voice trailed off and he was silent as he thought. Castiel did his best to be patient as he waited for his Alpha to continue. Dean was obviously thinking as quickly as he could and it would do no good to rush him. Castiel wondered how many times, in the past, Dean had been forced to think this way, perhaps making battlefield decisions with no notice or warning at all. From all that he had heard, his Alpha was good at that kind of thing. His patience was finally rewarded. “One day, just before your heat, you will go for a walk in the woods with Anna. You will make some excuse about wanting to enjoy the fresh air. Just the two of you will go and there will be someone waiting for you. This time, I will not be there to save you and you will be dragged away. You will not return.”

Castiel blinked, Dean’s words did not immediately make sense and when they did, when he understood that Dean was weaving a story for them, he felt his mouth fall open in shock. “You mean for John to believe I have been abducted? Dean, that is…so far beyond cruel.”

“I know it.” Dean said, quietly and there was no mistaking the regret in the Alpha’s voice. He looked straight into Castiel’s eyes with a sad, but determined expression on his face.

“You believe there is no other way?”

“I do,” Dean confirmed. “I will spearhead the search for you, of course. And I will not return either.”

“Dean…” If Castiel had felt horrified at the idea of Dean choosing to wait until after John’s coronation to run, it was nothing compared to what he felt now.

“We will need Anna, and now Jo, to support us in this.” Dean spoke as though he had not heard Castiel’s attempt to interrupt.

“Dean…”

“Anna will be trusted to report faithfully on what happened to you and Jo…well, there are few people my father trusts more. He will believe her. She will bring back proof, blood-soaked clothing, I suppose…”

Castiel pressed both hands to Dean’s chest. He could not listen to more. He felt foolish for not realising Dean’s plan immediately after he suggested that Castiel’s ‘abduction’ would be the first step. His only defence was that he had been too surprised to think further ahead of it immediately. But this… “Dean, stop. You are talking about leaving D’Or and your family forever. You are talking about letting them believe you are dead. You are talking about abandoning your home and for what?”

“For you; to be with you,” Dean said with a smile, as though it was obvious.

Castiel was shaking his head, “It is madness.”

“Would you not have come with me? Would you not have left Ireland, as I asked?” The Alpha demanded.

“Of course, but…” That was different. Castiel had hated his home and the truth of it was, he was not truly needed there. Dean was needed and loved. It was completely different. “Dean, you cannot just leave. I am not…”

Dean hands were suddenly gripping Castiel’s arms. His expression was fierce. If anything, Castiel would have said it was similar to the day Dean had saved him in this very forest. “I cannot be without you. I cannot. This is the only way I can see for us to be together and not destroy Briton’s future hopes.”

Castiel thought frantically, trying to see an alternative to Dean’s ludicrous plan. He felt as though there must be something, if only he could think of it. Unfortunately, nothing came to him. There were only two options if he and Dean wanted to be together, wanted to be mated. They could run or they could tell John the truth and face the fallout. For a moment, he wondered if that might truly be the better option. It would certainly be better for Dean and his family, but the fact remained, it would not be better for Briton. He might not have been in the country long, but he knew there were Barons who would use it as an excuse to discredit John as a leader. Lord Alistair’s sneering face floated before his mind’s eyes and if Castiel had not felt so warm at that moment, he would have shuddered.

It was foolishness. Castiel brought nothing to John that would make him a better King for Briton. It was more of the same useless and frustrating politicking that had hounded him all through his life, first at his father’s court and now here. Castiel’s bloodline had been used as a rallying point and it had been used well; too well, it now seemed.

When he finally looked at Dean again, he could see that his Alpha had been waiting patiently for Castiel to accept the truth of the situation. His mouth opened and then closed again. There was no other option that he could present and he knew it. The thought of Dean leaving everything behind could do what the image of Lord Alistair had not, and Castiel shivered.

He was drawn back into Dean’s arms and he went willingly. Settling himself against the Alpha’s chest. He needed the comfort in that moment, however little he felt he deserved it. This was all his fault, after all. His earlier determination to blame Dean for at least part of their current situation was fading away. Castiel wanted to shoulder it all himself.

“Hush, Omega. All will be well. I will make it so.” Castiel said nothing for a long moment. He just rested against Dean’s strong chest, breathing him in, feeling his Alpha’s hands touching him, running over his back, rubbing at the bare skin of his legs. His eyes drifted shut at the sensation. “You are growing cold,” Dean said. His concern was obvious as he tried to tuck the cloak closer around Castiel’s body.

Castiel did not feel cold; he felt greatly saddened and tremendously guilty. There was something else though, something that had to be said, no matter the consequences. It could not be ignored. “Dean, what of Samuel?” He asked, quietly, murmuring the words against his Alpha’s skin.

Castiel felt Dean’s entire body tense. The Alpha’s scent was tainted with true pain for the first time since they had begun this conversation and Castiel wondered if Dean had been trying not to consider this most important part. Castiel could not let Dean ignore it, as loathed as he was to inflict such pain. This was the biggest factor. Castiel had known of Dean’s total devotion to his brother since the very beginning. He did not see how his Alpha was able to contemplate this course of action when it meant leaving Samuel behind. “I will have to trust Jo with that,” Dean said, finally. His words were heavy and his scent grew worse. “She will tell him the truth, perhaps immediately, perhaps when he is older. She must gauge his response and act accordingly.”

“You will break his heart.” Castiel pressed, his own heart aching, but refusing to allow this issue to be brushed aside. He was not strong enough to look his Alpha in the face as he spoke, preferring to keep his nose buried against Dean’s neck.

Dean sighed, but his voice did not tremble when he spoke. “He will become heir to D’Or and to Briton. He will rule it well.”

Castiel ignored the voice in his head that pointed out what a fine heir Samuel would make. It was hardly the issue here. “And if he does not present Alpha?”

“Then he will mate one and he will still rule. My father will see to it.”

He wanted to be comforted by his Alpha’s words, but it felt far too selfish, so he pressed on. “He needs you, Dean.”

“He needed me, Castiel. He needed me when he was a pup and our father abandoned us, lost in his own grief.” There was a pause and Castiel felt lips brush over the skin of his neck. “Though, I think I have finally forgiven him for that, now.”

“Dean, he still…”

“He is still young and I would have preferred to be at his side forever. The truth of it though, is that he no longer needs me. He loves me and wants me there, I know it, but losing me will not break him.” Fingers slid into Castiel’s hair and tugged gently. When he met Dean’s eyes, the sincerity he saw made his breath falter, “Castiel, losing you, that would break me. It almost did.”

Castiel could not stop himself from kissing his Alpha, then. There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to apologise but knew that Dean would not want to hear it. He wanted to try and offer an explanation but feared it would sound like a justification. Instead, he just kissed his Alpha for long seconds. When they separated, he said the only thing that made sense and was completely true, “I wish I had done it differently.”

Dean sighed, but there was a smile of his lips, “I remembered, you know. At first, I was angry and I was not thinking clearly, but eventually I remembered. The last time we were together in Ireland, after your heat, you said that there were things you needed to tell me. You said that there were things about yourself that might change my mind about wanting you.”

“I remember.”

“You were going to tell me the truth, were you not?”

“I was.” Castiel also remembered the ensuing argument with Anna but decided then and there never to mention to his Alpha that it was his promise to her that made Castiel reluctant to share the truth. There were some things that did not need to be discussed. It was not truly her fault, after all. Castiel had made the decision and given the promise of his own free will. “I intended to confess and beg for your forgiveness.”

“Did you truly believe it would change my mind?”

“I thought there was a chance.”

“It would have changed nothing.” Castiel flinched away from the Alpha’s gaze but Dean did not let him get far. The hand was still in Castiel’s hair and it forced their eyes back together, “I do not tell you this to hurt you further, I tell you because I want you to understand.”

“Understand?”

“Do you remember what else I told you, then?”

Castiel would never forget the promises they had exchanged then, but for some unfathomable reason, he still flushed under his Alpha’s gaze. “You said that you would love me.”

Dean nodded, smiling, “I thought it would take a long time, that we would be mated long before it happened and that the promise of it would have to suffice, at first. It did not take that long. The time I spent here, without you, was enough. I thought of you every day, every hour.”
“Alpha…” Castiel’s voice sounded choked.

“I saw your face and heard your voice in my head and fell more in love with you. The memory of you was enough.”

“Dean, I…”

Before he could get the words out, Dean had drawn him into another kiss. Their lips brushed and their tongues touched and Castiel wished Dean’s knot would slip free so they could have each other again. “I am so in love with you,” Dean whispered against his lips, a confession.

Castiel did not hesitate. “I love you, Dean.”

“I will always love you. I cannot be without you, not again. I wish you could have seen how I was without you, then you would understand why this is the only choice.”

“You mean to give up everything you care about, because I created the fiction of Michael.”

“Perhaps, Omega. Though that does not mean there is blame on you.”

“There is.”

“Not blame that is proportionate to our current circumstances.”

“Alpha…”

“No, if you cannot predict something then you cannot prevent it. You made a mistake and you regret it. What I am choosing to do now, it is the most selfish action I could imagine. Yet, I will do it and I do not believe I will ever regret it.”

Castiel wanted to be better than he was in that moment. He wanted to tell Dean that there was no way they could follow through on such a plan. He wanted to say that the pain it would cause, not just to Dean’s extended family, but to all D’Or, was too high a price to pay for their own happiness. Instead, all he felt was resignation. Dean was holding him, his strong arms around Castiel’s waist. Their bodies were still held together in the most intimate of ways and Castiel knew the truth. He would do anything, anything not to have to go the rest of his life without this. He leant forwards slightly and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips. When he broke away, Castiel gave a single nod.

XXX