Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Is the food not to your taste?”

Marx’s fingers ceased drumming against the tabletop. The way he looked at the plate before him was as if seeing it for the first time. “No, it’s fine,” he said before bringing a forkful to his mouth, then proceeding to eat with the precision of an automaton.

His stoicism made Hinoka fight a smile, but his eating placated the Yang urge to see others provided for— he wouldn’t go hungry on her watch. She’d nearly finished her own midday meal, a plate similar to his: fried dough topped with hunks of seasoned meat, boiled chick peas, potatoes, and unusual tangy sauces although without the yogurt in her case. It was Tou cuisine, as Maharaja Ryuurei had not only lent them this small palace but also had ordered its staff to show them hospitality, including meals. While she would’ve enjoyed some plain rice and grilled fish, it was only the third day so she wouldn’t complain.

Eight royals from Hoshido and Nohr alongside their retainers had gathered within the neutral nation of Touma. Initially it’d been to discuss the fact that Hoshidan Prince Kamui had claimed Nohrian Princess Aqua and spirited away with her, causing tensions to flare between the larger kingdoms. Yet it had only taken half of the first day for them to agree that it hadn’t been a case of raptio and that they’d rather see their siblings happy than try to separate the new bondmates. So instead the talks had turned to possible treaties of peace, no matter how the differences between their societies had caused friction in the past.

Hoshido was a land ruled by Yang bloodlines, with oldest men as heads of the households. Whereas Nohr’s leaders rose through the ranks based on ability and could be any status or gender. When the Nohrian royalty had introduced themselves at the start of the week she'd thought they were Wuji, but then her nose had picked up the scent. Subtler than a Yang's, with notes that had her relaxing rather than preparing for aggression— she'd nearly shamed herself by gasping aloud when she'd realized all four of Nohr's royalty were Yins.

This was perhaps the most surreal aspect of these peace talks— how it challenged her assumptions on what she’d been taught about status.

She never would've guessed with the Nohrians’ assertiveness and confidence; characteristics she'd always been told belonged to Yangs alongside suitability for leadership. All four Yins had proved themselves to be anything but passive, she admired that they kept toe-to-toe with her family— it wasn’t something she experienced often. It was why she couldn’t help but notice that the crown prince had grown quiet over the last few hours, and then his picking at the food had prodded her to say something. But when the servants came to clear the plates his was as empty as her own, so she decided to spare him from further fussing.

With the meal over, they now took time to stretch their legs and scattered about the room. It was good to move after sitting for most of the day, but she found her eyes stubbornly fixed on the Nohrian’s form as he opened the window and leaned against the frame. Only the sound of someone coming up behind her caused her to glance away.

It was Ryouma, who’d undoubtedly chosen her blind spot to get her attention. She knew he was up to no good as he leaned down to mutter in her ear, “So, I see that Prince Marx brings out the mother hen in you.”

Hinoka sent her older brother a scowl. “Hush, I’m just being friendly.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” She could tell Ryouma was fighting a grin, and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

“We’re Yang,” She arched a brow at how obtuse he was being. “Looking after others comes naturally.”

“A Yang looking after Yins is different,” he said, his expression was sincerely concerned.

Hinoka fought down a blush and looked away first. “…I know. You don’t have to worry about me misbehaving.”

Yins were rare in Hoshido, with the majority of the population being Wuji alongside the Yang noble families. It was said in the far past they’d been treated more as prized breeders rather than people, but now it was a civilized age where the instincts of status would not serve as an excuse for such crimes. Still there was good reason why a Yin would be nervous about being watched by a Yang. Although this was the first time she’d been in extended contact with one— Hinoka felt a little ashamed that her brother need remind her.

The servants had cleared out and Leo clapped his hands together, announcing that the meeting would proceed once everyone had taken a seat. She sat in a hard-backed chair so out of sorts that she’d taken the right-most seat, but her brothers simply took the center ones without protest. Hinoka realized that now she was the one sitting across from Nohr’s crown prince, and was too embarrassed to raise her eyes to his face.

However, he said nothing. Instead the first princess began the talks by proposing that immigration between their countries be supported by local governors, her younger brother interjected arguing logistics and so it went... just like earlier.

Except on her next breath Hinoka noticed it, a scent that caught in her nose like a hook. It was overwhelming and utterly delicious— a Yin going into heat. Hinoka tried breathing shallowly through her mouth, but that was no good because the scent was strong enough that she could just taste it on her tongue. From the corner of her eye she saw the postures of her brothers stiffen while Sakura hunched in on herself, they'd undoubtedly smelled it too.

"Is there a problem?" Leo asked with a quirked brow.

"O-of course there is!" Takumi sputtered.

Before he could continue Ryouma spoke, "Wouldn't it be better if the affected individual was excused or we postpone these talks?"

Across from her blushing sister, Elise shouted from the far end of the table, "It's fine, we're used to this!"

Hinoka couldn't believe how calm and collected the four Nohrians looked, as if one of them hadn't started pumping out enough pheromones to send Yangs into rut. She didn't know any Yins personally and had never tended one through their heat, but from what she'd read those times were nearly unbearable in terms of instinct and carnal desire. The scent alone was enough to make her want to grind against any firm surface, she had no idea how the one in heat wasn't climbing the walls with frustration.

Her disbelief likely showed on her face, as with her next glance about the room she found the crown prince staring at her. After a too long pause, he said, "Let's continue."

Hinoka swallowed at the deep rumble and wiped her sweaty palms against the skirt of her uniform, trying her best to focus on listening as the talks progressed.

"...and that concludes today’s agenda. We've sorted the main points of the treaty which we'll hammer out rest of the week." Leo said while Camilla tapped the sheets of paper together into a neat pile. "Are there any questions?"

Hinoka shook her head and only gruff sounds of denial came from Hoshido's side of the negotiation table. The meeting was finally over, she barely remembered what'd been said— instead was cursing her weak self-control as she fidgeted and breathed more deeply than was polite. Although the rest of her family wasn’t much better.

All of them were too close to panting, and only Ryouma managed to sit still though with the rigidity of a statue. Takumi was more snappish than normal and couldn’t settle on whether to cross his arms across his chest or hands over his lap. Sakura had further folded in onto herself as time had passed and only the occasional question from Nohr’s youngest princess seemed to have kept her from curling into a ball and whimpering. Hardly dignified, but never before in her life had Hinoka had to endure hours of breathing in the smell of a Yin’s heat and doing nothing— and she’s sure it was the same for her siblings.

The Nohrians would’ve been lacking all sense not to notice but thankfully said nothing about it, and instead they formally concluded the meeting. The chair across from her scraped against the floor with a screech and had Hinoka’s gaze snapping up. Marx held his neck rigid, his jaw was clenched a little hard, and his lips pressed a bit tightly. Before she could notice anything further he’d turned and exited the room, the rest of Nohr’s royalty left mercifully quick.

When Hinoka pushed her seat back and struggled to her feet, her movements were sluggish. The heat's lingering scent acted on her like a drug. It was too strong, enough so to make her head hurt, though that might've been from the direction her blood had pooled.

Ryouma was out the door first and blindly she followed. He had the sense to lead the four of them into an outdoor patio with its fresh air. After a few minutes of letting them calm their ragged breathing, he asked, “Will anyone partake in the evening meal?”

“How can you be hungry!?” Takumi’s tone was incredulous. “The thought of food makes me feel sick…”

That seemed a confirmation of suspicions. Ryouma paced and said, “The first time a Yang breathes in the smell of a Yin in heat it can be overwhelming, but we are more than our instincts.” He paused until they made sounds of agreement, weak as they sounded. “All we can do now is clear our heads… or find a partner willing to withstand rut.”

Takumi and Sakura had likely never gone into rut before now, even if they’d received similar lectures in the past. A Yin undergoing heat would be cloistered away with a proper partner in Hoshido, so they never would’ve been exposed to the lust-inducing pheromones. As heir to Hoshido’s throne Ryouma had dealt with Yins undergoing heat in the past, and Hinoka had experienced it a few times while out on patrol with her squad of tenma warriors. The heightened desires of rut could be embarrassing for any unprepared Yang; discipline was needed to stave off a clamoring instinct. Even without the awkwardness of youth Hinoka found herself still fidgeting at her body’s reactions to the smell— her skin prickled and felt too small for her body, her breathing too quick, and lust burned low in her gut like a hot coal.

“...how l-long does it l-last?” Sakura asked, clearing her throat nervously.

Hinoka knew enough to answer, “Rut is sparked and maintained by exposure to a Yin in heat. With enough time apart from that it’ll fade on its own, but intercourse will burn it out of your system quickly.”

Sakura’s face turned bright red before she brought up both her hands to cover it, while Takumi muttered something under his breath and avoided meeting their eyes. Hinoka met Ryouma’s glance and gave a helpless shrug, while their little brother and sister were of age they were still inexperienced. With unspoken agreement they left the patio and went their own ways to find their own solution to the problem at hand.

Since she’d realized the heat had sent her into rut Hinoka had been thinking of the man who’d agreed to partner with her the last time she’d found herself in such a predicament. They’d been out patrolling together on tenmaback, and though he was also a Yang the experience of riding out a mutual rut together had been pleasurable. It’d happened years ago but she was sure he wouldn’t mind being her partner a second time if she asked. So with that in mind Hinoka had made her way to the hall where their retainers had been given rooms.

A sort of curtain covered the room’s entrance in place of a proper door, so Hinoka made to knock against the wooden frame then announce her identity. Before her knuckles rapped she heard a noise from within— someone letting out a high, shuddering breath that unraveled into a sigh. It caused her to freeze in place, her insides twisting as she forced herself to wait and listen.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the noise occurred again, along with a half-whispered, “T-Tsubaki…”

Quiet as it was Hinoka would recognize her sister’s voice anywhere and without another thought she left as quickly as she could, glad that her presence had gone unnoticed. Having heard that was like being doused with a bucket of cold water, shocking and unpleasant. While intellectually she was happy that despite her shyness Sakura was open to intimacy, an instinctual frustration built inside Hinoka at the discovery that her intended partner was already taken. Sometimes she wished she had the more balanced body of a Wuji, with a mind that wouldn’t be dramatically pushed and pulled by hormonal reactions.

Yet Hinoka thought again, cold shock might just be the answer to breaking her rut.

She’d swung by her room to pick up a new set of clothes and had made her way to the bathhouse. Choosing a cubby for storage, undressing, scrubbing herself down, and wrapping a towel about herself had gone quickly enough. Yet further in, Hinoka nearly skidded to a stop. The older Nohrian princess sat in a chair, fully dressed, leafing through the pages of a book, right beside the entrance to the baths. She was prepared to bolt, but after a moment of controlled breathing Hinoka realized she couldn't smell anything— even a dozen steps away a Yin's heat could be detected. With a relieved sigh she forced her feet to move forward, intending to pass by the other royal.

However just before she was even, Camilla abruptly extended an arm into her path. When she murmured for pardon and tried to move around, the Nohrian woman stood in full to block her path and forced her to halt— heeled shoes and natural height made her tower. Immediately Hinoka's Yang instincts bristled at the challenge, but she ruthlessly stamped them down.

Keeping her temper in check, Hinoka asked, "Have I done something to offend, Princess Camilla?"

"I suppose the only thing I could find offensive is the fact such a beautiful woman is alone," Camilla made a show of sniffing the air, "When she smells so needy."

Hinoka felt her entire face flush hot at the mention of the fact that just as Yin's heat smelled strongly, so did a Yang's rut. Yet she refused to back down from embarrassment. Maintaining eye contact, she said, "It's fine, I'm used to this."

Camilla's lips curled into a smile, but Hinoka didn't let her gaze linger lewdly. As much as this exchange had prickled her instincts, it'd also stoked back to life what lust she'd managed to bank earlier. While the Nohrian princess was attractive, there was a shrewd gleam in her dark eyes that kept Hinoka wary.

The Yin woman leaned close, her scent was cloyingly sweet and accented with a bit of perfume— not the type intended to mask, but designed to complement and enhance it. "Wouldn't you prefer some company to a lonely bath?" She nearly whispered in her ear.

Hinoka had to resist flinging herself bodily away. Most Yins she had met seemed shy about whatever attraction might exist between them and other statuses, eager to put it aside for polite interactions. Camilla’s Yin scent didn’t make her more vulnerable, though, she seemed to use it and any possible attraction like a weapon. And this was one fighting style Hinoka seriously lacked training in.

“I’m flattered by the offer, but I’d rather be alone than pitied.” She said, and didn’t take a single step back.

“Oh?” There was that unsettlingly sharp gleam in her eye. “So you wouldn’t keep company because you felt sorry for someone’s sad state?”

Holding back a frown, Hinoka shook her head. “I couldn’t be so dishonest. I wouldn’t lie about wanting to spend time with a person.”

“But if you saw someone in need and you could help them, would you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Of course, I’m not heartless.”

Camilla’s hum sounded all too pleased, but she stepped aside before sitting back down onto the chair. However, her attention remained upon Hinoka rather than returning to her book. “Have a good bath, Princess Hinoka,” her tone was far too breezy to not be an affectation.

Nonetheless Hinoka politely thanked her and finally moved into the rooms of the baths which held the sunken pools.

The lingering effects from the smell of heat combined with having been flustered had Hinoka forgoing the heated bath. There was another, one full of cold water which she was confident would help clear her head and break the fever of rut. It wasn't in the main bathhouse but an adjoining room, and she concentrated on taking measured breaths as she walked to it through the steam. It was less well lit here, with candles rather than the magical lanterns, and took a few blinks for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Because of it she nearly missed the fact that the pool had another occupant until she's already knee-deep into the water.

There was barely any of him above water, just the eyes and top of the head. The rest of his blond hair fanned out over the surface of the water, deepened to a tawny color. His eyes were closed and he's quite still for being so thoroughly submerged in cold water while holding his breath.

When the ripple she’d created reached him she watched his eyes flutter open, then widen as they landed on her. Before she could move or say anything he fairly jumped, upper body splashing out of the water. With his neck exposed to the air, more importantly the scent glands hidden there, Hinoka smelled it—

Marx was the Yin in heat.

Chapter Text

Even from across the sunken pool the scent of a Yin’s heat hit Hinoka like a one-two punch to the ovaries. Her pulse sped until she could hear its pounding and a tremble began in her hands with the sudden onslaught of hormones throughout her system. Yet as she stood there near shaking with want, Marx's eyes weren't trailing over her half-naked state. His gaze was instead fixed on her face, silently regarding her as if it wasn't at all alarming to have a stranger walk in on one's bath— let alone a Yang in rut.

The smell of the Yin man's hair, of his skin, of him with no others to dilute it made her blood boil. She gritted her teeth as the haze threatened to cloud her head. As she felt the control she’d maintained for most of the day waver, Hinoka was tempted to turn tail and run. Before she could try, Marx opened his mouth and spoke.

"Would you care to join me?"

His voice wasn't breathless, nor slurred drunkenly. He sounded as within his facilities as he had during the meeting. It made her wonder if everything her Yang teachers had told her about uncontrollable heats were falsehoods. Then again, she’d always heard that Yins were delicate creatures that needed sheltering; the Nohrian man before her looked anything but. Tall, broad, thick with muscle— traits that'd make it difficult for the average person of any status to even try and physically hide him. Perhaps her teachers had known nothing, but she couldn’t lightly shake a lifetime of warnings.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Hinoka answered his question with another, her own voice irritatingly breathy.

In the dim candlelight his eyes looked nearly black, as he watched her unwaveringly. After a charged moment of silence, he evidently sat down, the water now covered to just below his collarbones. Marx said, "If I didn't want the company, I wouldn't have extended the invitation."

Despite the subtle challenge in his words he cocked his head to the side, exposing more of his throat and making himself vulnerable. The submissive action roused her Yang instincts and had her fingers itching to reach out for him. Without another thought Hinoka pushed her feet off the steps and plunged deeper into the pool. The sharp cold of the water was like a slap to her senses, the bite of it cleared her head a little.

She realized from the way he was watching her, he'd undoubtedly spied her involuntary reactions and had purposefully provoked her. Hinoka’d thought the Nohrian princess had been dangerous, but the man before her was proving to be an even worse temptation. She fumbled to cover up her instinctual reaction, “I-I just came for a quick dip to cool off.”

Yet those dark eyes had fallen from hers, and the look in them had changed— Hinoka’s experience might be a bit limited, but she could tell when a man desired her. She followed his gaze with a glance down and inhaled sharply at what she found. Water had wicked up the fabric and turned the thin, white towel nearly translucent and it clung to the slope of her breasts, showed the rosy shadows of each peak. Immediately she brought up her arms and crossed them defensively over her chest, felt a blush rising over her face and she looked anywhere but at him.

There was subtle splashing, ripples in the water, before she heard his voice much closer than it’d been before, “What’s wrong? Why’re you hiding?”

Marx’s breathing had grown quicker, heavier. Hinoka risked a glance and found his mouth open the barest bit, his tongue showing pink between the white edges of his teeth. She looked away again, feeling conflicted as she said, “As if I shouldn’t-”

“Nothing needs to be hidden. You’re beautiful.” At those words her eyes snapped to him, and she found that his gaze wasn’t fixed to one place but wandering over every inch of her. “I could hardly take my eyes off you… and your scent,” Marx inhaled inappropriately deep, exhaling with a groan. “Now you’re here with me, when I most need you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words and the longing in his tone. Hinoka asked, “Wait, what‘re you saying?”

“I want you as my partner,” he answered boldly, without hesitation.

Marx languidly licked of his lips. Her gaze tracked the motion of his tongue before snapping back to his eyes. There she spied the delight of swaying another— he was again provoking her. Hinoka couldn't hold back a huff and hardened her resolve, or tried too. Her body leaned towards him even as her mind strived to reel back.

Surrounded by the smell of heat her rut was rising, inevitable as the tide. Her skin prickled tight and hot, blood rushing in her ears. She tried to keep her sense of reason by appealing to his, “Prince Marx, I’ve never tended to a Yin through their heat! Someone with experience-”

He interrupted, his voice certain. “I want you, Hinoka.”

She swallowed and shuddered as she heard her name on his lips. It didn’t sound proper the way he extended the last syllable like a sigh. Marx hadn't merely said her name, he'd caressed it.

Desire was undeniable in his scent, on his face, alongside the promises in his eyes. His voice dropped an octave as he asked, “Do you want me?”

Hinoka wanted nothing more than to bear Marx down, to lie atop and feel his body under hers, to touch every inch of him, to bring him to a peak and find her own release with him seated inside her. All those urges were barely leashed as she confessed, “Yes.”

He leaned close, touching her no more than could be blamed on the movement of the water. Marx murmured into her ear, “Then stop holding back and have me.”

Taking a shaky breath Hinoka's hands went to the towel wrapped around her, and a sound both surprised and needy vibrated in his throat. While the cloth clung to her like a nearly transparent skin, it wasn’t painful as Hinoka peeled the sodden fabric off but rather a relief. Both of them were now bare, with no vestiges of their position and responsibility— just a Yang woman and a Yin man, primal in want.

When her fingertips scarcely brushed his exposed arm he inhaled sharply and his entire body shuddered. She touched his bare skin, and despite the chill of the pool around them she could feel the warmth of it. He really was burning up. As she touched him it felt like his heat seeped into her fingertips— the warmth gathered in her belly and simmered in her blood.

The water sloshed and churned around them as almost too eagerly Marx brought his large hands onto her supple flesh. His touch was both hungry and inquisitive, especially in her most sensitive places. Although the water muted everything the building pleasure soon had Hinoka squirming against him and cursing under her breath. She felt how her face was flushed hotly, and this close even in the flickering candlelight she saw that Marx's pale skin was pinked with the fever of heat, a red blush highlighting his sharp cheekbones.

One of Marx’s hands brought hers under the bath’s water and against his body. She grasped at him, and he strained towards her rather than away. Up and down her hand moved, sometimes twisting tentatively, sometimes speeding, other times slowing, trying to find what he liked best. It was difficult to tell as his rhythm against her hand bordered on frantic, so she watched for when he stiffened and jerked at a particular touch— for when his scent gained notes of urgency.

“Make me yours.” Marx’s hands abruptly grasped her waist, nearly big enough to touch fingertips together. He ducked low to gently butt his forehead against hers, body crowding her against the pool’s steps. He murmured, “Make me shake against you, please.”

She was pleased with what he said, and even more pleased to be the one to fulfill his requests. She hissed through her teeth, “Marx, come now.”

At the same time Hinoka gave him a strong stroke— his chest heaved, and she felt him throb in her hands. While watching as Marx was racked with the pleasure of release, distantly a thought crossed her mind that the bathwater was no longer pristine. She was much more taken with how his stoic features twisted in pleasure, and how it was something she’d done to him. Too soon he’d fallen from the high, face smoothing and his body crumpling against hers, as she fought off the desire to bring him to climax again and again.

While she battled her instincts, he’d tucked his head into the crook of her neck and rubbed his face against her. Hinoka bit her lip at the wonderful tickle the pressure created on her swollen scent glands— more intrigued at watching the way he was covering himself with her smell. That action satisfied her on a base level, that this Yin in heat had found her a worthy Yang and wanted it to be evident to all. Almost mindlessly, her hands rose and fingers tangled in his hair to encourage him.

At her touch Marx hummed and she felt his mouth open against the column of her neck, licking and sucking at her skin as if she was delicious. The sensations nearly had her quivering in pleasure and had her losing sense of time. The nips of teeth drew her back to reality, only then did Hinoka drop her hands and try to put room between them— he didn’t budge.

Marx had the advantages of height, reach, and weight of densely packed muscle. Still Hinoka's body had its own lean strength, currently augmented by rut. Stifling the instinct to keep him close as possible, she put that strength into her next shove.

When she pushed this time he moved, but only fractionally. Marx stubbornly set his teeth against her skin, applying enough pressure to threaten a bruise. Despite the exquisiteness of the sensation, it had Hinoka digging her fingernails into his chest in warning— some part of her understood that if she let him mark her there nothing could be the same.

It was enough to return some clarity to her thinking, and she scrambled for words, “S-stop that! I won’t- I won’t allow it, Marx.”

At her words she felt him tense, then finally he relaxed his jaw and drew away from her neck. “Apologies…” he said, for the first time sounding flustered.

“Don’t, don’t try that without my permission,” she replied after swallowing a lump in her throat. With the conflicting signals between her body and mind it was difficult, but Hinoka forced out a request, “Could you give me a little space? I-I need a moment to think.”

Marx grew even more tense but he jerkily nodded. His body unfolded from around hers and he moved to the other side of the pool. The urges of rut clamored at the separation, but Hinoka was a disciplined Yang and avoided the sight of the Yin too far away by shutting her eyes. She breathed as shallowly through her mouth as she could, and concentrated on the technique her older brother had taught her to bring calm— meditation.

Hinoka’s attempt to meditate had failed utterly. While Ryouma might’ve mastered the technique and thus control of himself, she found that if thoughts weren’t buzzing around her head then instinctual urges filled what was supposed to be empty. Even without her sight, she couldn’t help but react— to sounds, to smells, even to the touch of the cold water. Rut had sharpened her senses to so fine a point that it was difficult to ignore anything. However, she had managed to order her mind enough to have accomplished some thinking.

Since entering the baths, Hinoka had practically fallen into the position of being this Yin man’s heat partner— a fact that stroked her Yang ego. Yet it also frightened the inexperienced part of her as it was happening so fast and was so very intense, it convinced her that a misstep would hit very hard and have lasting effects. She’d also realized that it hadn’t simply been his delicious scent that’d attracted her to the Nohrian prince.

Although Marx’s fleeting bites had knocked her from a pleasure induced haze, they’d also thrilled her. His teeth had excited her in a way she’d never experienced in past intimate encounters, none of those men had dared to try and mark her as theirs. Hinoka was the high princess of Hoshido and her past partners hadn’t the authority to back up any claims made. Marx was different. He had position and power which could be leveraged to make good on promises— even if she doubted her family would be happy over a rut-addled marking.

She knew better than to assume being chosen as a heat partner meant there’d be anything between them afterwards… But Hinoka couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering over the possibility. It was like every stereotypical love-at-first-heat account, plain embarrassing.

She heard the water being stirred then yet another ripple broke against her. Hinoka allowed her eyes to open this time, inevitably searching for her partner. He was precisely where she’d last seen him— across the pool. Marx had submerged himself once again so that only his head remained above water. After he’d been so vocal, it was almost disturbing how he sat silently. His dark eyes were half-closed, and for perhaps the first time, his gaze was unfocused and inattentive.

Just regaining sight of him had her breath hitch and then speed. At the sound Marx’s eyes opened fully and focused on her. Yet he didn’t move as he asked in a strained tone, “Has the bath cooled your fever? Will you be leaving?”

The Yin man turned away and her Yang pride was pricked at the motion. She couldn’t help but sputter, “H-Hey! I, I’m not so wishy washy a partner as to leave when you’re still in heat.” Hinoka surged to her feet, though no action went quickly when surrounded by water. Moving toward him, she spoke with a confidence she didn’t completely feel, “I’ll stay as long as you need me, Marx. That is, if I’m still the one you want?”

Marx rose too, the water sluicing off him in a wickedly tantalizing manner, and he met her halfway with hand outstretched. He drew breath just as rapidly as she did, his heady scent still compelling. His fingertips were cool as they trailed over her blushing cheek. "You overwhelm me," his words came out in a shaky sigh. “I want to be overcome. Hinoka, please-”

Her mouth devoured the rest of his words. Hinoka rose up and kissed him soundly, her lips spread against his parted ones. Marx’s mouth was open and eager, without any coaxing his tongue slipped into her mouth to insistently stroke hers. It felt hot enough to blaze— his entire body burned with the fever of heat.

She’d kissed before, but not like this. Never anything like this. His open, eager mouth consumed what little hesitance she had left.

When their mouths finally parted, Marx abruptly asked, "Would you have me on my back?"

Hinoka couldn't believe he had just asked that— almost as intensely as her immediate answer left her stunned, "Yes."

Without another word his large hands curled under her thighs and lifted her as he climbed out of the pool. The cool water had softened their skin and left them damp, but even with the low temperature his body felt feverishly warm. With that firm grip keeping her in place, he lowered himself until he sat against the stone and her atop his lap.

"You aren't on your back," she said, trying to sound stern.

Both of his brows raised, and his expression held the playful challenge that had prodded her throughout this encounter. "Why don't you put me there?"

His words and the fact that his voice had dropped even deeper sent a flash of frustration and lust through Hinoka. With her hands on his shoulders she shoved him flat, though slowly enough that his head wouldn't hit the floor. It was only possible because he didn't resist, instead he went pliant under her as if that was exactly what he'd wanted.

It couldn’t be comfortable. The polished stone of the floor was cool and she could already feel the ache gathering in her knees. Yet with the next few breaths, all discomforts faded from her thoughts. As their arousal had grown so had the scent of heat and rut, mixing together for a heady cocktail of pheromones. And Hinoka felt the effects in full— smells were pungent, colors grew vivid, her skin tingled at any and all touch, their too loud breaths combined into a music that almost made her dizzy. It was all thick and viscous in her mind, cloying her thoughts like a heated syrup that burnt through her.

Hinoka panted and rocked, her hands trying to pin him though she's sure it wasn't her strength that kept him down but rather his willingness to submit. However, Marx didn't lay passive beneath. His hips shifted restlessly and met her rolling movements, matched her building fervor. Everything felt so good: the smells, the sounds, the contact, the control. When she faltered or slowed her own frustrations mounted.

Hinoka noticed that despite everything feeling good, her climax wasn't close— the building tingle was far off as if her body refused to stop. The thought of keeping on and on with Marx writhing willingly beneath sent a bolt of pure lust through her. However, it seemed the Yin man's stamina couldn't keep up with her rut. Too soon he'd peaked, shuddering with a fully flushed face and his pulse fluttering visibly at his throat.

As his tremors abated, Hinoka sat back on her heels and let him slip from her— which might've been the most difficult thing she’d done here. Yet knowledge kept her clamoring instincts in check, understanding that unlike with Yang men after climax too much contact for other statuses would grow painful. Instead she indulged the urge to touch.

Hinoka reached and placed her fingers against his neck, onto his shoulder, then trailed to his clavicle and down. Her fingers slipped through a sheen of bathwater and gathered sweat. His skin wasn't perfectly smooth like river rocks, but pitted with scars and had rough callouses which were so much more interesting. Her touch swept over his torso, curious at the feel of the coarse hairs that dusted here and there.

At first Marx simply shivered and huffed, body flexing into her wandering hands for firmer touches as if keen for the exploration. However, soon he shifted with impatience and used his hands to pull her close— apparently dissatisfied with the distance between them. He didn’t try to reverse their position so Hinoka went willingly. He tucked her beneath his chin, her head right beside the strong column of his neck.

The scent of him was dizzying, but the familiarity of the position pierced through her foggy mind. “Would you like me to nuzzle?” She asked, not quite able to keep the laughter out of her voice.

He grunted what was likely an affirmative. When she barely touched with only the tip of her nose, Marx heaved out an exacerbated sigh. “I need to smell and taste myself on you, or… Or this time will last longer.”

Hinoka blinked at the admission, vaguely recalling being taught that during their heat a Yin will seek to mix their scent with their partner. She’d never thought about it possibly being a factor in ending their heat. Ceasing her teasing Hinoka pressed her face against him and rubbed, despite her tingling nose. Although she was tempted to give Marx the open-mouthed kisses that he’d subjected her too, she wasn’t entirely sure her self-control would be good enough to keep from biting— especially with the shameless moans he made. So she nuzzled, until the sudden sensation of his hips meeting hers had Hinoka rearing back with a gasp.

Marx looked at her with adoring eyes, his face red as hers felt, while he gently caressed. He seemed to be unable to take his hands off her, unable to stop touching her. Hinoka found herself basking in his undivided attentions. Perhaps this was the draw of Yin to Yang— feeling like the center of another’s entire world, even if only for a moment.

Their bodies joined again, she rutted him. Hinoka used her position and body to draw every noise and shiver out of him that she could, just as Marx tried for her. Their shared gaze, wandering hands, the wet collision of his flesh with hers— created a tide of pleasure that poured over them like running water and drowned everything in its path.

After hours of having breathed in his heat and delayed gratification, then the slow build caused by rut, the razor-sharp pleasure of finally reaching release cut her to pieces. Dry sobs broke from her throat and she choked out a cry. Hinoka’s body seized with climax, her hips shoving down to ensure he was as deep as he could go as her inner muscles locked around to keep all he offered inside.

It was enough to trigger her partner’s release. A guttural sound of helpless pleasure was scraped from the back of his throat. Marx’s broad, muscled body arched under her and she pressed against him, embracing to hold and protect. Although she was floating on the high there was the edge of frustration too. Over their difference in size, how she was narrower and smaller, and the fact she couldn't truly cover him even if she stretched. Hinoka just wanted to be a proper Yang for such a good, obedient Yin.

As they both came down from climax Marx writhed a little with an occasional whimper, undoubtedly too sensitive after spending and overstimulated by how her body kept flexing around him. Hinoka hooked her legs under him and began to shush as her hands stroked to soothe him to stillness. From past experience she knew only discomfort came from trying to separate while they were tied, but he also lacked a knot so the wait wouldn't be too long.

He cooperated, so she brushed his lips which were still swollen from their kisses and then peppered his jaw with them. His whimpering turned from pitiful to needy as their breathing grew harsh and more erratic with each passing minute. Suddenly, Marx closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was startlingly sweet compared to the carnality of their situation— her body having tied his inside. When he lay back, Hinoka unthinkingly followed him, unwilling to let the kiss end.

Hinoka felt her inner muscles finally relax enough for a little give, and wiggled her hips to test how much. The motion made her realize that despite reaching release minutes ago Marx was growing hard again— even while her body had him firmly clasped inside.

"W-what is this?"

"Estrous," Marx murmured against her lips before tilting his head so that their mouths slanted together. With their lips sealed he swallowed her moans as he began to circle and grind. He didn't try to fight the tie, his hands instead gathered her even closer, and her moans grew louder as impossibly she felt her body steadily climbing towards another peak.

Marx's head tipped back, exposing his throat, his mouth opened in a silent cry as he again trembled beneath her. It seemed she'd exhausted his voice… and she hadn't felt a new wet heat from his release. Although that was a hard thing to judge as their bodies dripped with sweat and other fluids.

Biting her lower lip to concentrate, Hinoka took a deep inhale through her nose— his scent had changed. The notes of urgency had been replaced with satisfaction, and most importantly her scent was on him. Marx practically reeked of her. She wasn't sure if his heat could break as her rut did, but his body seemed to finally be calming down.

She felt satisfied herself, even though her last climax had been long enough ago that her body had given up its vice-like grip on his. The sight of her Yin well-sated combined with their mixed scent put her in a very good place regardless. Hinoka’s heart swelled with a feeling higher than contentment but deeper than happiness, an emotion unfamiliar enough that she could not name it.

The hours of unfulfilled longing and then vigorous liaison should've left Hinoka drained to the point of exhaustion— but she felt neither hunger nor a need to sleep. This was how she knew that she was in the aftermath of rut. The augmented stamina catered to her Yang instincts of staying alert and watching over her partner while he recuperated.

However, she wasn’t able to bask in him for long. Sharp footsteps against stone had her head turning in an attempt to locate the sound’s source. A shadow was cast through the entrance to the cold bath’s room, and then a tall figure traveled through it.

Hinoka bared her teeth and growled— it wasn't a noise she was practiced in making. In her youth a single instance of getting laughed at and called kittenish had been enough to discourage her from trying again. Yet the proximity of an intruder had drawn the sound out from deep in her chest, an instinctual warning that she was ready for a fight.

Marx hadn’t even seemed to notice that they were no longer alone, his body limp and loose as dangling string. He'd occupied himself once again with nuzzling the crook of her neck, his embrace preventing Hinoka from sitting up and facing the threat properly. However, the intruder had paused at her growl, coming no closer which had mollified her somewhat.

Before she could react, a splash of warm water hit them both. The liquid slap and how it washed away headier fluids brought clarity. Her rut-hazed mind hadn’t even realized the person had been carrying a bucket— hadn’t recognized the fact it was the very same Yin woman she’d passed by to enter the baths in the first place.

The Nohrian princess stood in the doorway, fully dressed, and looking down at them with a smile. She spoke in a placating tone, “Brother, you want to nuzzle this Alpha and never let go, but you also know better.”

Hinoka felt Marx’s chest rise and fall in a huff, then his hold relaxed and his arms dropped away from her. She’d no longer been fighting his hold, but still sat up— on edge not only by Camilla’s presence but how nonchalant the woman was over catching them in the act. Still she fought her protective urge, concerned by her Yin’s obedience to another.

Watching his tired face, she asked, “Marx?”

There was a flash of pink as he licked his lips, swallowed, then rasped, “…you should wash. Then go.”

Hinoka's heart squeezed and Yang pride stung at the dismissal, but his tone was as gentle as his hands had been before. There was probably something she’d missed, she would ask. Yet when she opened her mouth, there was an interruption.

“Unless you want everyone to know tomorrow that you had sex with Nohr’s crown prince at the height of estrous.” Camilla placed the wooden bucket onto the floor and righted herself to stand tall with her hips cocked to the side. “Technically our kingdoms have not yet signed treaties of peace. Some might accuse you of sleeping with the enemy if they found out.”

Hinoka went completely still. What she’d said was true, the peace talks were ongoing but not yet completed. Not so long ago Nohr would’ve been said to be Hoshido’s natural enemy, no matter that their royalty were Yins. Gods help her, Hinoka didn't feel even a shred of guilt.

She nearly flinched as Marx’s hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head so that she could only look into his dark eyes. His voice was hoarse from overuse as he said, “When I need my partner again, I’ll seek you out. For now please go, Hinoka.” His gaze fell to her mouth, and she barely heard him whisper, “I won’t give you a moment’s peace if you stay…”

That had her blushing hot and sent an embarrassing thrill up her spine. As soon as his hand fell away, Hinoka forced herself off Marx and onto her feet. The Nohrians were talking sense, as much as her instincts clamored for her to stay— their circumstances prevented such a thing. They’d have to keep this a secret until conditions were more favorable. Besides there would be another meeting tomorrow, and it wouldn’t do if she was falling asleep during it.

She nodded to Marx before turning away from him, no matter how the action filled her with loss, and pushed her way past the Yin woman to stride out. Hinoka almost felt like she was in a daze as she made her way to the scrub station and washed away all traces with soap and water. Caught in a cycle of doubt and disbelief that she’d really rutted the most attractive Yin she’d ever met through his heat. Only when she heard those sharp footsteps as she dried herself did she snap completely back to reality.

The Nohrian princess sauntered towards her, the swing in her step a confident seduction. Hinoka simply narrowed her eyes and tucked a fresh towel modestly about herself. Once the Yin woman had drawn close, she noticed that Camilla’s aroma was now sickenly sweet— like an overripe fruit, compared to Marx's rich, earthy scent. It’d gone from enticing to off-putting and Hinoka suspected it was her own nose’s fault.

Hinoka couldn’t quite keep the bite out of her tone as she quipped, “Shouldn’t you help Marx clean himself up?”

“Oh, I will in a moment. No Omega minds marinating a little.” The Nohrian princess tossed her long, lavender curls behind her shoulder, then made a show of looking Hinoka up and down. “First I want to tell you that my brother could find someone else to help him through this time… but he’s the type who prefers to stick with one partner after exchanging scents. If he comes to you again won’t you take pity on him, one more time?”

Her hackles raised at the suggestion. “I-it wasn’t pity!”

“No?” Camilla’s expression was sardonic. “Most Alphas I know would describe an Omega going through estrous as pitiful.”

Thankfully her temper wasn’t riled so easily with rut broken. Hinoka was able to reply calmly, “That is to their own shame. It is a Yang’s instinct to tend a Yin through their most vulnerable time, there’s no dishonor for either side only mutual benefit.”

The Yin woman hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, would you be willing to extend these benefits again?”

Hinoka tightened the towel around her. “…only if Prince Marx wants me.”

Camilla’s hand rose to cover a giggle. “Dear Hinoka, I don’t think you understand just how badly he wants you.”

Chapter Text

Marx had made good on his promise to seek Hinoka out when he needed her. Two nights had passed where she rutted them both to bone-aching satisfaction, then they’d separate to prepare for the next day. However, rather than being ruled by the demands of his heat, the Yin man only came to her at almost convenient times— after the day's meetings had ended, sometimes after the evening meal had been served, yet always when they could find privacy and none should try to seek either of them.

She knew it wasn't for lack of want. Marx still smelled of a Yin's heat, although the notes of urgency weren’t as overpowering as that first day. During the meetings he carried on as he had from the very start, it was a display of self-control that put her own to the test. So far they’d conducted themselves respectfully within the sight of others and it seemed that their heat partnership remained a secret.

Hinoka awoke that morning like every morning that followed a liaison with Marx, utterly famished. Rut would dull her appetite but with the little stability provided by time apart and sleep, she’d wake with hunger gnawing at the pit of her stomach. It was fortunate that the Tou servants laid out large meals for breaking fast, as both herself and her siblings had begun to eat heavily in the mornings— undoubtedly for similar reasons.

That promise of sustenance drove her to lift her head from the pillow, and she did so with a groan. Without the sharp, jagged edge of rut driving her, Hinoka felt how her body was stiff and throbbed tenderly. While her Yang instincts savored the soreness, or more likely the cause for it, as she hopped out of bed Hinoka had to stretch. Her back popped like a cracked nutshell, muscles though achy loosened up and she sighed with relief. Thankfully soreness from overwork was not unusual with her intense training regimens, so after she’d groomed and dressed she walked to their guest wing’s dining room without hitches to her stride.

She’d been late to arrive, her older brother and younger sister were already seated and partaking in the meal. Her siblings greeted her but remained focused on their food. Once at the low table, Hinoka practically inhaled the savory pastries that’d reliably been served every morning. The flaky crust with its lentil and diced-vegetable filling she found quite delicious with the mint dipping sauce.

By the time she’d emptied half a platter their younger brother finally appeared. Takumi dragged himself into the room, his expression tired even though the rest of his appearance was kempt. He plopped down onto the empty cushion beside her, and rather than taking portions from the platters glared at the food as if it’d done something to offend him.

Eventually he settled on a glass of sugarcane juice, and spoke between sips. "I can't believe these Nohrians. This'll be the third day one of them attends the meeting while in heat."

"The s-smell isn't as overwhelming, a-at least. It takes much l-longer for any of us t-to go into rut." Sakura blushed faintly, likely still embarrassed by the instinctual reaction.

Takumi shook his head. "It's barbaric that they let a Yin suffer without a proper heat partner."

Hinoka had to clench her jaw to keep from snapping that she was taking fine care of Marx.

"There's a partner." Ryouma said, nonplussed as he met their shocked stares. "The decrease in appeal only happens when a Yin regularly exchanges scents and starts syncing with another. Although what lingers is faint... I think the partner's Yang."

Hinoka took a large bite of samosa and chewed, praying to the gods that none of her siblings could hear how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. From the way he was talking— he must’ve figured out that it was Nohr’s crown prince who was in heat. She should've known Ryouma would notice such things, he’d been called upon to tend Yins within Shirazaki several times before.

“How can you tell?” Takumi asked, sounding skeptical.

“It’s difficult to explain.” Ryouma momentarily closed his eyes in contemplation. “The knowledge that it occurs can help those outside the heat partnership to discern when one’s going on. Syncing scents is something you’ll best understand as a Yang after tending a Yin through their heat.”

Takumi leaned forward with a frown, mulling over this information and clearly not liking it one bit.

Ryouma stood, went around the low table, and clapped a hand to their younger brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll be appointed as a heat partner one day soon.” Takumi looked more uneasy than reassured by their older brother’s words. However, Ryouma missed the nervous look as he’d turned towards the doorway and announced, “I’m going out to the patio for meditation until it is time for the talks to resume.”

Sakura rose from the cushion to her feet. “M-may I join you, brother?”

He looked over his shoulder with a smile. “Of course, Sakura.” He waited until she’d also rounded the low table, then they left the dining room together.

The palace servants quickly cleared the abandoned plates and settings, but left the platters as both Hinoka and Takumi were still eating. However, she noticed that after Ryouma’s talk their younger brother had put down the glass of half-drank juice and still hadn’t dished anything solid for his morning meal.

Although he was clearly in a morose mood, Hinoka lightly nudged him. “Takumi, there’s only an hour before the meeting will start.” She grabbed a new pastry and held it out to him. “You should eat your fill now.”

“Yes, sister,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. Nonetheless he took the offered samosa and ate it, even if looking put upon. She took the moment to observe him more closely.

Although Hinoka had donned her unarmored tenma uniform out of habit, since they'd been conducting most of their business indoors more casual dress was acceptable. Takumi currently wore a kosode and hakama, undoubtedly because of Touma’s humid air combined with the late summer temperatures. When he placed an elbow on the tabletop and leaned his cheek against his hand, the collar of his clothing gaped with the lazy posture. The lack of his archer uniform's scarf was how she spied it— a still-healing scar on the juncture of his shoulder and neck, a half-moon of pale pink marks against his tan skin.

It was in the very same place Marx liked to graze his teeth when tied with her. Hinoka couldn’t hold back a gasp as she realized it was a claiming mark. “Who gave you that!?”

Takumi jolted and choked on his current bite. She smacked his back until she heard his coughs and gasps for air. He pushed her hands away, then nearly fell over in a scramble to close his collar and right himself.

“Not so loud,” he hissed under his breath, she could practically see him bristling. His furtive glance about the room had her looking too, the servants present were too far away to overhear their hushed tones. Her younger brother turned to face her fully. “You can’t tell anyone.” She opened her mouth, but he interrupted, “Especially Ryouma! No one can know. Hinoka, promise me you won’t tell.”

She could see the desperation in his eyes and smell the fear souring him. Hinoka took measured breaths to remain calm and keep worry from her own scent as she said, “I swear I won’t tell a soul, Takumi.” He stared hard into her eyes until his shoulders finally sagged, possibly from him finding that she was sincere. Hinoka kept all accusation out of her voice as she asked, “When did this happen?”

He fidgeted and said nothing for a long while, obviously not wanting to talk about it. She didn’t look away and he finally said, “We didn’t mean for it to happen. That first day of rut was just so intense, a-and then a love confession… I lacked self-control. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone taking away-” He broke eye-contact and abruptly swallowed.

Hinoka remembered how she'd almost lost herself in the cold bath. How she'd come close to letting Marx bite her because his teeth had felt so good. How the haze of rut had mirrored the desire to claim— to be able to say mine, mine, mine.

It seemed Takumi's lack of experience and the passion of his partner had resulted in a marking, and she'd bet it was a mutual one. There was no way to take it back now that it was done, even if Hoshido's court refused to legally recognize the claim. Powerful enough festals existed that could heal even scars, that could make the mark disappear. Yet she doubted Takumi or his partner would ever forget.

Hinoka put an arm around his hunched shoulders, slowly enough that he could easily shrug her off. When he didn’t, she leaned in to say, “It’ll be alright. If you want to stay together there just needs to be some public courtship and then you can announce your intentions. No one has to know the claiming happened here.”

Takumi put his head into his hands. “My partner’s Wuji. Everyone back home will disapprove of the foolish second prince’s choice.”

Now Hinoka understood why he didn’t want Ryouma to know. Hoshidan nobility were discouraged to take Wuji as bondmates, because it was uncommon for individuals of that status to have children who presented as Yang. As members of the royal family it’d be expected for both of them to continue the bloodline, to have Yang heirs. The norm for princes and princesses was to make an arrangement with an eligible Yang from a respectable family. Yet that tradition had its own problems. Ones that set her teeth on edge.

These thoughts had Hinoka swallowing against her own nervousness over her current situation with Marx.

During the many hours they’d explored each other, Hinoka had caught herself thinking that the affection was genuine— that it went beyond need and would survive the end of Marx's heat. It became more and more difficult to check herself, to squash such idles fancies. She knew the driving desperation fueled by pheromones that'd brought them together was coloring her thoughts, the hormones shifting to ensure her interest was kept even without rut. Even still, some small part of her wanted everything she felt to be real, that it might last.

If it did… would her kingdom approve? Would her family? Giving herself a mental shake, Hinoka shoved aside such worries and focused instead on comforting and reassuring her brother.

“You seem… preoccupied, Princess Hinoka.”

Marx’s voice had her blinking out of the stupor. Turning her thoughts away from secrets and solutions, she glanced about the room. Her sister had engaged Elise in conversation, while her brothers, Leo, and Camilla were still embroiled in discussing the finer details of diction which made up the treaty. After the better part of a week, their talks were finally close to bearing fruit— and here she was, head lost in the clouds.

“My apologies, I suppose I have been distracted today.” Hinoka said, turning to face him. Marx didn’t respond verbally, instead he took the open seat across from her. She glanced down the table to the others, and asked, “Don’t they need you?”

“They’ll be fine without me.” He didn’t even have the decency to look, instead stared at her.

Her Yang ego demanded she not shrink from such an open appraisal, but she shortened her breaths to counter the Yin man being only an arm's length away. While his smell stirred her desires in ways she couldn’t entirely ignore, within the crowded room with its many conflicting scents it didn’t compel her instincts to clamor. Absent of his amorous attentions and physicality it was just a scent, albeit a strong one, if rather pleasant to her Yang sensibilities. Although without the distraction of her earlier musings Hinoka found herself hypervigilant to Marx's presence and how he currently watched her.

Abruptly, he asked, “Would you do me the honor of pouring a cup of tea?”

The squat teapot that the servants had set out at the start of the meeting alongside snacks was located on the table to the side of her, conveniently out of the Nohrian prince’s reach. She shot him an unimpressed look, and while Marx didn’t smile back his dark eyes gleamed playfully. Never one to back down from a challenge, she set a teacup before her and then grabbed the pot’s overarching handle. With practiced ease Hinoka poured the brew into the cup and handed it to Marx. She was careful to put her hands on the bottom so he could easily retrieve the teacup by its sides. Instead the Nohrian prince went out of his way and held her hand between his gloved ones with a caress to her wrist before taking the cup away.

Hinoka resisted the urge to touch her tingling wrist, watching as he brought the cup to his face and inhaled deeply. She realized Marx wasn’t smelling the tea’s aroma, but instead her scent on the porcelain. She fought down a blush as lust shot through her like a fired arrow. When she shifted her legs to press her thighs together and alleviate the sudden ache, Marx's nostrils flared. His tongue darted over his upper lip— she wasn't the only one hot and bothered.

Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice their exchange, as Ryouma loudly announced, “Are we agreed that these terms are ready to be sent for approval?”

Finally, that drew Marx’s attention from her. His head turned and he asked for a sum-up of any last changes. Camilla quickly laid them out— none of them dramatic. Both sides agreed that this draft was tentatively the final one, and the tension in the room dissipated. Sakura and Elise chattered excitedly about the possibility of musicians from each kingdom preforming a concert together. Ryouma gave orders to the palace’s resident scribes, while Camilla had bound the stack of paper together with some string. Leo handed a folded and sealed letter to a peculiar man who’d been hanging about the room. For the first time that day, Takumi appeared relieved. Marx took a sip of the tea, looking contented.

After the scribes had bustled out of the room, the younger Nohrian prince spoke, “Once copies of the treaty have been made we will send them with messengers to our respective capitals. If all is well our fathers will travel here within another fortnight’s time to sign the original document and our kingdoms will formally be at peace.”

“No, that’s too long a time!” Takumi suddenly interjected, drawing all eyes to him as he rose from his seat.

Hinoka looked on, keeping her expression carefully neutral. Her younger brother had collected himself and looked none the worse for wear by the time this meeting had begun. She wasn’t sure if he’d taken any of her attempts at encouragement to heart, but his scent no longer held the sourness of fear. So Hinoka chose to hope.

“All things take time, Prince Takumi,” Camilla practically purred. Across from him the Nohrian first princess leaned a hand against the table, undoubtedly giving quite the view of her cleavage.

He flushed at the blatant flirtation, but stood his ground, “There has to be a more efficient way.”

“You two can keep arguing.” Marx abruptly stood, towering over all others in the room. “I’m officially calling a break in the meeting. The rest of us need one.”

With halting sounds of agreement, they pushed their chairs back and rose to their feet. The youngest princesses left the room first, still speaking of music and instruments, then Leo and the man with the letter exited. Before Marx turned to the doorway he sent Hinoka a look which let her know that he wanted her to find him and sent a thrill down her spine. She waited a beat, so that it wouldn’t be obvious that she was following Marx, and then did just that.

While passing by Camilla on the way out, she made a hushed plea, “Please go easy on my brother. He’s been stressed of late.”

“I promise to be gentle,” the Yin woman said, eye glinting with mischief. “Alphas are just too much fun to tease.”

Though far from reassured, Hinoka trusted Takumi to be able to handle himself and she went in search of her heat partner.

“I’m sorry. I thought I could wait for tonight, but…” She heard rather than saw him swallow. “The spice of you smelled too warm and good.”

Despite it being the middle of the day, this closet was darker than it'd been at the cold bath with the only light peeking in from around the curtain’s shifting edges. Only certain parts of him were illuminated— the edges of his pale face, a stray curl of hair, the gleam of his eyes, the glint of teeth. The dark color of his clothing caused the rest of him to melt into the surrounding darkness. It made any shift in his expression, voice, and scent all the keener to Hinoka.

Marx was removing his gloves, but the shaking of his hands slowed the attempt. Finally, with a frustrated growl, that reverberated through her, he bit the fabric between his teeth and pulled each off. Bare hands and his use of teeth had no right to excite her as it did. Marx untucked the heavy cloth from about his neck, and began to work open its decorative knot.

Without that cloth barrier every breath she drew in was full of his scent— rich and deep, like a rainstorm stirring dry earth. It made Hinoka want to slake her thirst and have her fill of him. It was almost unbelievable how this Yin man made her pulse pound and loins ache. However, she noticed that this arousal didn’t have a sharp enough urgency to be from rut, and it had her scrambling to try and keep herself from falling into one.

Before Marx could fully remove the cloth from around his neck, Hinoka caught his hand in hers to stop him. When he met her gaze, she said, "We'll need to return soon, so we really shouldn't undress.”

He nodded then crossed the distance between them. Their hands grasped at each other’s bodies, trying to bring the other closer and get more contact between them. Their breathing quickly became panting. She widened her stance so that his knee was between her legs and their hips could slot together. However, when he rocked, her pleasure at the action was shadowed by pain— with no rut to dull her body’s soreness.

It had her saying, “Let’s stick to kissing."

The gleam of his eyes flickered as he blinked, perhaps in surprise. "Kissing?"

When she nodded Marx dipped to brush a kiss over her brow, then bent and brushed aside her scarf to kiss her collarbone. His body pressed close to hers, crowding against the wall and causing her mind to blank over the feel of the hard length of him against her. Still her reactions remained sharp. Hinoka’s unoccupied hand caught his jaw as he leaned in, undoubtedly wanting to nuzzle his face against her neck.

"W-we should probably just kiss on the lips," she said, scrambling to try and limit this encounter.

She felt him smile against her fingertips, then in one fluid motion he sank down. The crown prince of Nohr was on his knees before her, head bent to expose the nape of his neck. Hinoka swore her heart skipped a beat.

She stared down at the curls atop his head, as he traced her hips through her skirt. Hinoka’s breath caught at the slow slide of his hands down the fabric and then under it. Marx's bare hands touched the equally bare skin of her thighs, and felt hot as brands. Her knees went weak, she had to lean her weight back against the wall to stop them from buckling.

Only when his fingertips brushed over the edges of her smallclothes did Hinoka gasp, "Marx!"

His head tipped and his eyes glinted in the darkness as he gazed up at her face. "Permit me to kiss you, Hinoka?" Once again, he spoke her name as a caress.

"I-" She swallowed hard and couldn't manage any more words. All sensible parts of her mind warning that they might be caught were drowned out by her Yang instincts screaming to allow such wonderful submission from her Yin.

"Command me to stop, and I will obey.” His breath was warm and moist. “Let me kiss you…"

When she lifted her skirt and spread her legs further, he groaned and his scent deepened approvingly. Marx unclipped her garters, but didn't push her stockings or boots down, instead the tie to her smalls came undone. Hinoka tightly closed her eyes and felt a tremor travel through herself. The fabric tickled as he pulled it away, and she resisted squirming at his speeding exhales over the exposed part of her. With a dip of his head those teasing breaths were quickly replaced with the solid warmth of his lips— then the heat of his open mouth against where she was wettest.

The sensation made her yelp and throw her head backwards. She hit the wall behind her, but the small pain hardly distracted Hinoka from what he was doing between her legs. She fisted her hands in her upraised skirt and her teeth sank into her bottom lip to keep from crying aloud again. Marx's kisses made her back arch.

His fingers coiled about her calf and coaxed her to raise her leg, until he placed a broad shoulder beneath it. His other hand was at her waist, keeping her balanced as he did the same to the other. Marx whispered filthy praise, words hot over her sensitive flesh as he licked her, traced his tongue lower and deeper. She couldn't keep from canting her hips, yet he didn't try to still them instead he slid his hands under and tilted further for better access. It was almost too much.

Perhaps he wanted her as mindless with need as a heat made him, to think of nothing but him— with each subsequent lick Marx was closer to that goal.

The pressure of climax was building quickly inside her, almost alarmingly so. While orgasms for Yang women weren't as conditional as Yang men, who required firm pressure on their swollen knot to ejaculate, Hinoka had found climaxing painful when there was nothing for her inner muscles to clamp down on. That knowledge kept her wits together enough to speak.

"Marx," Hinoka murmured, her tongue felt thick in her mouth. "Please, I need- I need-"

"What do you need?" His words were muffled as he spoke against her.

Her thoughts nearly scattered when his kisses didn’t stop, but she managed, "S-something inside."

His large hands shifted, one fully cupping her backside while the other slid forward and then two fingers delved in. The way his mouth left her most sensitive flesh wet and flushed as Marx laved her, his knuckles and fingertips rubbing against sweet spots was more than she can handle. Hinoka's hands left her skirt to tangle in his hair and urge him closer, bumping against the metal of his circlet. She heard his pleased hum, felt it, and it pushed her over the edge.

The building pressure within her burst, the seething tension breaking her apart entirely. She bucked wildly, her legs tightened reflexively against his shoulders as wild tremors of climax quaked through her body. As she came down from the high Hinoka was shaking like a leaf and stifling wordless, wanting sounds.

It was the first time Hinoka had reached her peak with Marx outside of rut, and it left her with a delicious lethargy. Her arms were limp by her sides, body relaxing completely, and she couldn't be bothered to worry over modesty. The Yin man was still between her open legs. One of his hands ran tenderly over her thighs which were beginning to dry, the other was caught comfortably snug. Marx smiled up at her, his face wet and fragrant from her release while his own scent was tantalizingly lustful. Possessiveness shot through her, and warmed what satisfaction should’ve cooled.

Suddenly, there was a knock against the closet’s doorframe. If her back hadn't already been pressed to the wall she would've wheeled. Nervousness spiked through Marx’s scent and she felt his shoulders tense underneath her as his head turned towards the curtained doorway.

“Twenty-five minutes until the meeting is set to restart.” Someone spoke lowly from outside. “Should I go and cause a delay?”

Marx apparently recognized the voice as the nervous tension vanished with his sharp exhale. He looked back up then asked, “How long do you need me to stay like this?”

She squirmed at the roughness of his voice and the feeling of his fingers flexing inside her. Although her inner muscles had tightened, Hinoka knew her body hadn’t truly tied— as her partner hadn’t climaxed thus there weren’t the proper chemical signals to trigger that physiological reaction.

She answered quietly, “N-not too long. Maybe five minutes?”

He nodded, the curls of his hair tickling her sensitized skin. His head turned once more towards the curtain. “No need for a delay. We’ll be out shortly.”

No response came from the other side.

Carefully, Marx shrugged each shoulder and set her back onto her feet. Hinoka's knees wobbled and her body still shivered with aftershocks, but the wall and his hands kept her upright. She watched, a captive audience, as he slowly wiped her slick from his mouth and chin with the back of his free hand then licked it clean.

They both had calmed their frantic breathing by the time her inner muscles relaxed. He withdrew, but rather than standing he remained kneeling. Only when she felt the cloth of her smallclothes being pressed into her hand did she realized it’d been to search. Hinoka nibbled her lip but softened her mouth with a flinch— it was sore and chapped from how she'd bitten down to keep quiet earlier.

Marx finally rose up, and stepped back from her. “Do you need a moment?”

After reclipping the garters to her belt Hinoka smoothed her skirt back down, while pressing her legs together tightly. She balled up the smalls to hide in her fist. It’d do no good to put them on to be stained by a sated reek. She had to clear her throat, “No. Let’s go.”

Without another word he pushed open the curtain covering the doorway, the sudden light had her squinting, and then they both exited the closet. In the hall were two men: the younger prince of Nohr and the peculiar man who’d been hovering close to him all day. Hinoka tamped her anxiety over being caught down as she took in their calm expressions. They didn’t appear to have been lying in wait, but rather had been engaged in quiet conversation before breaking off as they'd left the closet.

Beside her, Marx had removed his crown which she’d knocked askew and was running one hand through his blond curls with a disoriented expression. In the well-lit hall, the full sight of his pale skin had her whispering, "Y-your gloves!"

Hinoka swept the closet’s curtain open and quickly spotted the discarded clothing on the floor. She was about to lean but thought better and knelt, scooping them up. Facing the hallway again she found that he’d purposefully stepped into the other men’s line of sight, a protective action she’d heard Yins only displayed for their children and bondmates— one that piqued her curiosity. When she held up the gloves and called to him, Marx turned toward her took the articles with a lowly murmured thanks.

Hinoka’s response caught in her throat as she gazed up. From this angle his long tunic didn’t hide how Marx hadn’t been unaffected by their encounter in the closet— and in fact, was still quite affected. When she finally dragged her eyes away and up to his face, she saw an expression kindling in his eyes that had her fighting against the urge to take hold of him right there.

Until a crude whistle cut through the tension.

“Smells like these two are ready to hump,” the eye-patched man chuckled. That had Hinoka shooting to her feet and snapping her teeth. Rather than paying attention to the threat, his single eye looked to the younger prince. “Should I go make that delay after all?”

Leo shook his head. “No, it’s more important they both clean up.” His eyes cut to her as he said, “I already have a wash bowl, full pitcher, scented soap, and towel set out at stands nearby. My man, Zero, will show you to the place where you might refresh yourself. If that is agreeable, Princess Hinoka?”

In an effort to smooth her ruffled temper, Hinoka drew in a long breath— apart from Marx's storminess and the wood-smoke of his brother, both smells full of Yin sweetness, nothing remarkable stood out. This meant that the third Nohrian man was Wuji, who were difficult to detect because of the shifting nature of their scents. It also meant he was issuing challenges without any sort of ingrained instinct to establish authority but instead needled her by choice, which was more irritating than it should’ve been.

Although her Yang instincts bristled, she knew it’d be reckless to openly walk with either of the princes from Nohr. So Hinoka accepted the offer and thanked the younger Yin man. It was difficult not to appreciate how Marx’s family looked out for one another, even if their nonchalance was embarrassing.

With her answer the second prince of Nohr inclined his head respectfully before walking past, as if that'd been his intention all along. Marx followed after him, but not before glancing long at her. Rather than letting her stare after their retreating forms the eye-patched man gestured for Hinoka to go in the opposite direction, and when she hesitated his dark face split with a wolfish grin.

“I can escort you to the meeting room if you’re fine as is.” He continued grinning and noisily sniffed the air.

Hinoka drew herself up, despite the fact she could never hope to match his height. “No, guide me to the room Prince Leo mentioned.”

Thankfully, Zero did just that. Leading her down the hallway to a nearby room where a changing screen had been placed in front of a fully equipped wash stand. However, rather than leaving the irritating guide remained in the room. It prodded Hinoka into saying, “You should go ahead. I can find my way back on my own.”

“That’s not my orders, Your Highness.” He dipped into a theatrically exaggerated bow. “I’m to keep an eye on things as your lookout, until you’re presentable.”

Hinoka bared her teeth in a scowl, but once he’d righted Zero simply stood there— bold as brass. There really wasn’t time for a standoff, no matter how her Yang instincts scrambled to meet his challenge. As she moved behind the screen she told him with a growl, “Don’t you dare peep!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Zero actually had the decency to turn around and face the closed door. “Your man doesn’t like to share, and I’d prefer that my eye remains in my skull.”

With a wary eye confirming he continued to behave, Hinoka cleaned herself up. As Leo had said the soap held a strong floral scent that should mask all others, and if anyone asked she could simply tell them she used the break for a sponge bath. It wasn’t technically a lie. She quickly toweled dry then gratefully put her smallclothes back on.

Once she’d ensured all her clothing were back in order, she edged around the screen, saying, “I’m decent now, so you can lea—”

Before she could finish Zero had turned on his heel and she gasped as healing magic enveloped her, soothing all her aches until they’d vanished. It’d also washed away her irritation and left her blinking almost in a stupor. He lowered the healing rod, its crystal no longer aglow.

Hinoka had to clear her throat. “Wh-what was that about?”

“Leo ordered you to be refreshed didn’t he? I’m nothing if not obedient.” Zero smirked knowingly. “Besides, I’ve been wrung dry by the end of his heat more than once. Marx must be putting a little thing like you through the paces, Alpha or not.”

She shrugged off the slight and instead latched on to his other implications— that he’d tended to Nohr’s second prince, despite being a Wuji. Trying not to sound overly interested, she asked, “No one in Nohr… disapproves of you as the prince’s partner?”

His single eye narrowed, but he answered, “Oh, plenty look down their noses at a guttersnipe and thief. But Leo chose me, so opinions have little weight where it matters.”

“And your… status doesn’t get in the way?”

Zero’s cocked his head to the side, “You mean as a Beta? No one could give a rat’s ass about that.”

Hinoka nodded. It seemed Nohr was quite different with its expectations and restrictions towards royalty. She wondered if there was any way she could convince Leo to talk to Takumi about their similar situations. However, for now she refrained from any further questions and repeated that he should head to the meeting room first.

“One question before I go.” She quirked a brow and Zero continued, “Did you and the crown prince really have a roll in the hay down at the stables last night?”

The meeting hadn’t lasted very long after it’d been reconvened. While they’d been gone Takumi and Camilla had worked out a method for delivery— messengers with flying mounts. Rather than weeks their wait time would likely be days until the peace treaty was formally signed by the kings. The plan was quickly agreed upon by all and the peace talks had been adjourned until the ruler’s arrival.

Hinoka had caught Marx looking at her with hopeful eyes, but she’d slipped out of his reach and dashed to her room in the guest wing. It likely wouldn’t take him long to figure out just where that was, so she’d left a written note— of what she needed to do before they could be together that night.

Hinoka had decided to talk with Ryouma. She wouldn’t give up Takumi’s secrets, but their older brother was nothing if not observant. She wanted to try to lay a sympathetic foundation and discuss all that’s happened during their stay at the palace in Touma. They were close to eliminating war between their kingdoms, so surely changes within Hoshido were overdue.

As she lifted the curtain and ducked in the room, she called out, “Ryouma, I want to talk.”

However once inside Hinoka felt someone nosing at her nape and nearly backhanded them as she spun around.

"Brother! What-"

"I should've smelled it earlier. I didn't even think to check until I saw you with him today, practically floating on a contact high." The disapproval in his tone had Hinoka’s stomach sinking to her feet, even as Ryouma’s scent gained the hard edge of anger. “How did that Nohrian Yin seduce you, sister?”

Chapter Text

There was no point in trying to lie to her brother— they'd both been trained since childhood how to interpret a person's emotions not only by their body language and what words they chose, but also by deciphering their scent. So Hinoka plainly said, “No one seduced me.”

While she already felt like her stomach had dropped to the floor, the hard smell of an angry Yang made it impossible for her to relax. She had to suppress the dual urges to meet the challenge or flee; instead forced herself still and to not look away from her brother’s harsh stare. Ryouma straightened to stand at full height, ramrod straight as was proper for a prince, for a Yang. In response, Hinoka squared her own back with a roll of her shoulders.

Disapproval laced his tone as he spoke, “You have no experience tending a Yin through their heat.”

Of course I don’t! Hinoka had to swallow down the retort. In Hoshido, Yang women were almost never called upon to tend a heat, regardless of the Yin’s gender. It was considered the responsibility of Yang men, like everything else.

As she struggled with her rising temper, Ryouma continued. “So why else would you become a heat partner, other than if seduced?”

“Prince Marx asked and I agreed. There was nothing underhanded about it.” Hinoka managed to keep her voice even, but barely.

Ryouma’s brow raised skeptically. “Then why hide your partnership?”

“The Prince also asked for my discretion.” She answered, then sent her brother a glare. “Probably because he didn’t want anyone trying to lock him in a room while important matters needed dealing with.”

A fresh wave of anger hardened his scent further as he said, “Your words betray your inexperience. Yangs are not meant to leave the side of a Yin they are tending through their heat; it’s why following rut we neither hunger nor slumber. That’s the reason behind our tradition to set aside space for isolation, so both parties involved will feel safe and relaxed.” Ryouma paused to take a measured breath. “The only things you’ve accomplished by constantly separating from the Nohrian is to extend the duration of his heat and risk yourself growing territorially attached.”

Hinoka’s heart twisted in her chest over what he said, and had her Yang ego deflating a little with uncertainty. “…what do you mean?”

He gave her a look that was horribly pitying. “While in heat Yins are instinctually needy and desperate, surrender comes naturally when they find an appropriately dominant partner. Your Yang instincts know this. It also means everyone else has the potential to replace you and thus makes them a threat. Putting space between will result in an ever increasing desire to be rejoined— on both your parts. For a Yin their body will continue to produce appealing pheromones, which can only happen if their heat is ongoing.”

Suddenly it was a struggle for Hinoka to not look away, shaken by the very idea that she had prolonged Marx’s heat. Weakly, she asked, “Does the opposite happen if…if a Yang doesn’t leave?”

Ryouma nodded. “A heat breaks swiftly when the partner’s presence is constant. Rarely lasts beyond the span of one day under ideal conditions.”

Hinoka felt constricted by this new knowledge, as if someone had grabbed her insides in a red-hot fist, and squeezed.

“For Yangs the desire to rejoin manifests differently. Surely you’ve noticed possessive or jealous thoughts towards your partner, despite the fact you were virtual strangers not long ago.” Although his dour expression did not fade, the hard glint in Ryouma’s eyes did soften a little. “I know you, Hinoka. How you live your life and never do anything in half-measures. Will you truly be able to break from this Yin man cleanly once his heat is over and you’re no longer needed? It is no easy thing to do.”

Her Yang ego bristled over the suggestion of leaving, abandoning— but her logical mind understood most heat partnerships were temporary. Just as she’d never sought Tsubaki out after their mutual rut, there was the possibility that Marx wouldn’t want anything to do with her once his heat was over. The thought stung, as if a thorn had pierced her chest. She didn’t want it to end that way… and this was how she knew Ryouma had reason to doubt.

Fighting against the urge to drop her gaze, Hinoka said, “Ryouma, I… I’m glad we’re here in Touma, having these talks. Once peace is established between our kingdoms, I can court Prince Marx properly.”

For a moment Ryouma was seemingly shocked into silence, then he chuckled with a bitter smile. “Do you really think the feudal lords would accept the high princess becoming the bondmate of someone other than a Hoshidan?”

Hinoka’s hackles raised at his mocking laughter. “Mother’s from Touma and was accepted as our father’s bondmate and our kingdom’s queen. Once we’re at peace, I don’t see why it should be much different for a Nohrian-”

He cut her off. “Queen Mikoto is Yang. The man you’ve given your attentions to is not, just like our blood mother.”

“Ryouma, stop.” She couldn’t believe her ears.

Her brother continued on, “I know you do not like speaking of it. But if you’ve the intention to take up with a Yin, it cannot be ignored.”

It was rather infamous— the story of Ikona and how she became the second bondmate of Hoshido’s king despite being a Yin peasant.

At that time their father had already been bonded to the second princess of Touma, but years had passed without the birth of an heir from their union. Infertility between like-matched Yang couples was a common problem, enough so that daughters were considered a risk in continuing a bloodline if they were to make an auspicious match with another Yang family. Hoshido had a countermeasure though… antiquated as it was. Yangs in rut had higher chances to conceive, so bringing a Yin in heat to facilitate and even prolong such an event was an ancient and accepted tradition.

With Sumeragi and Mikoto’s predicament the countermeasure had been enacted: a Yin native to the kingdom had been found, the family compensated, and Ikona brought to Shirazaki’s castle. However, it hadn’t ended as was considered ‘proper’, after a heat rather than Mikoto coming away pregnant it’d been Ikona. Their father had rejected the archaic practice of claiming a Yin without intent to bond and insisted on making her a bondmate in full, he’d eventually gotten his way but not without serious leverage.

Despite not knowing her blood mother well, the fact that Ikona had been bought like goods and then kept out of sight had always stuck in Hinoka’s craw. Although in the past she’d distracted herself by remembering the fondness she’d heard in Sumeragi’s voice whenever he spoke of her blood mother. In this moment, she chose to dwell rather than forget and could feel the bitterness welling up within her.

Hinoka had to stop herself from snapping as she said, “This isn’t the same, Ryouma.”

“Is it so different? Do you think a Yin man, a foreigner, would be received well as the high princess’s bondmate?” The tone of Ryouma’s reply was incredulous.

Hinoka couldn’t help but scoff. “He’s the crown prince of Nohr! I’d hope they’d have enough common sense not to disrespect, with his social standing-”

“Most of the feudal lords would view him as they’ve always viewed Yins involved with Yangs, as a stopgap.” Ryouma breathed out a sigh. “You know the opinions and traditions of court are slow to change.”

Hinoka knew all too well. She’d bucked almost every expectation as a daughter of the royal family— rejecting all betrothal proposals from nobles, joining the tenma warriors instead of devoting her time to what was considered a woman’s work, cutting off her hair rather than allowing them to dress her up like some doll. Most feudal lords hissed her title in derision; they didn’t consider her a proper high princess at all. Here in another kingdom, even under the scrutiny of the Nohrian royalty, she didn’t feel as harshly judged as she did within Shirazaki’s court.

Experiencing everything she had here and encountering so many things that challenged what she’d been taught about Yins, it all convinced Hinoka that her kingdom's status quo was wrong. Ignoring how her entire face felt hot, she looked her brother square in the eye and said, “Then Hoshido must be changed! A Yin shouldn’t need fear becoming involved with Yangs, nor fear being treated as the auxiliary in such a relationship. If a Yang prince fell in love with a Wuji, why should the sake of status come between them? You always say we’re more than just instinct, but we aren’t allowed to live beyond duty?” She had to swallow past a lump in her throat, as she admitted, “I… I like this man. Yin or not, I want to get to know him better.”

Ryouma’s eyes narrowed, but he gave no objection. After a weighty pause he said, “Would you upset our kingdom’s entire order, over this?”

“It’s an order I never asked to be a part of. To be joined with a stranger for whom I’m simply a convenient tie to the throne.” Her vision blurred so that she was forced to blink, and only when wet heat streaked down her cheeks did Hinoka realize she was crying. Her next breath hitched, her voice hoarse with emotion as she said, “That is a future I refuse!”

“Hinoka…” The hard tones of anger had faded completely from Ryouma’s scent.

Her brother looked as if he wanted to reach out but he did not. Hinoka was grateful for his restraint as she fairly vibrated with tension, undoubtedly smelling sour from both anger and distress. Thankfully as she swiped at the tears that fell from her eyes, no sobs or wails exposed her weakness further.

However, rather than letting her suffer in silence, Ryouma said, “Kamui understood these things, even as a Wuji. It’s why he ran off with the Yin princess of Nohr rather than bringing her home to face such opinions. You know that’s the way it is in Hoshido.”

His words had a bitterly stupid swell of jealousy rise in her, and Hinoka’s heart ached as she asked, “What if I don’t want it to be?”

“Then I’ll take you with me,” Marx’s voice rung out, “To Nohr.”

They both turned as the curtain was moved aside and the crown prince of Nohr swept into the room like a storm. Gripped in his hand was the paper of the quickly written note that she’d left for him to find in her room— apparently he’d not been content to wait and had instead sought her out. The smell of angry Yangs was impossible to mistake; she guessed he likely could’ve detected it even in the hallway. To Marx's credit, his scent barely betrayed any anxiety at all, only a hint of additional softness which Hinoka guessed was his Yin body’s attempt to establish calm, to discourage others from harming him.

Setting aside her surprise, Hinoka asked, “How long have you been there?”

Marx’s dark eyes glanced to her brother then back to her, before he replied, “Long enough.”

“What you first said,” Ryouma scowled at the Yin man. “You can’t be serious, Prince Marx.”

Marx raised a single brow. “And why not? Surely, Prince Ryouma, you haven’t forgotten one of the peace treaties conditions- the requirement of an exchange of diplomats. Princess Hinoka would more than suffice for the Hoshidan representative.”

His words shocked them both. Her brother recovered his composure first, and said, “Do you Nohrians really have the gall to demand for such an arrangement?”

“I don’t consider requesting the High Princess honor Nohr with her presence to be impudence.” Marx’s eyes met Hinoka’s wide ones, the longing she saw within them painfully sincere.

Ryouma abruptly said, “So this was why you insisted to attend the meetings during your heat. It’d been your intention to ensnare us from the beginning.”

Hinoka had to bite her lip at what he was saying. She wanted to yell at her brother for treating her like some knot-brained idiot who couldn’t function around Yin pheromones. Before she could gather a response, Marx spoke up.

“Just like a conceited Alpha, to assume an Omega’s estrous can be calculated in such a way.” Marx’s gaze slid to her brother as he shifted his stance.

He slid his feet until he stood at an angle, one foot behind the other in a way that made his body a smaller target despite his large size. His elbows were bent and his hands were fisted at his sides, ready to strike out. Marx seemed to be anticipating a fight, and it had Hinoka's instincts screaming to defend him.

Her rational mind, however, wondered why he was reacting this way, rather than submitting. A submissive Yin in distress naturally drew softer sympathies, but this— This posturing was only drawing out her brother's Yang urges to establish dominance. Yet the smell of a brewing fight finally snapped Hinoka into action.

Despite her throat having grown tight with nerves, she forced out words, “Stop it, both of you!” She moved until she stood bodily between them, to ensure neither would start something.

Hinoka could almost feel how Ryouma bristled over her interference. However, his eyes remained fixed on the Nohrian prince as he said, “Stealing princesses away is an act of war.”

“Did our talks here not begin with the decision that a princess absconding with a prince, willingly and happily, should not lead to bloodshed between our kingdoms?” Marx broke eye contact with him to look to her. “It is Hinoka’s answer that matters.”

Ryouma’s scent hardened further with a fresh wave of anger. “You act as if you already know the answer, but neither of you bear a claiming mark nor have public declarations been made. Why would my sister give up everything she’s known for a heatsick fool?”

“…why indeed,” Marx said softly, tone resigned.

Hinoka took in the face he'd made and it hurt, she never wanted him to look like that because of her again. She stopped fighting her instincts and stretched a hand towards the Yin man. Marx caught it and lifted until he could nose at her wrist. She watched his dark eyes slide half-shut in contentment, felt the warm puff of his breath curling down and across the delicate skin.

She made quiet noises meant to soothe, motivated only in part by Yang instinct to comfort her Yin. While she wanted to free his flushed skin, run her hands over his body, cover him in her scent, and rut him until the neediness of heat was sated. More than that Hinoka wanted Marx happy, for him to trust her to keep him safe. That she wanted with every fiber of her being.

Marx didn’t make any audible replies to her soothing. Instead he swiped the tip of his tongue across her pulse point, catching her scent in his mouth. With this action his own smell spiked, like fresh rain falling, and a sudden influx of heat pheromones filled the room. He was propositioning her— without words.

And she wasn’t the only Yang aware of it.

"This display is below how Hoshido's high princess should conduct herself."

The frustration in Ryouma’s tone had Hinoka tensing. Marx’s gaze shifted to just past her. His expression was stony, the glint in his eyes was defiant and the farthest thing from hazy-eyed pleas her teachers had taught her all Yins in heat wore.

Reluctantly, Hinoka looked over her shoulder. She found her brother no longer stood with his arms stubbornly folded, but had encroached upon the two of them. With Marx’s smell overwhelmingly strong, it took a few breaths for Hinoka to notice another change. Ryouma's scent had gained heavy notes like hot-metal. Her anxiety returned in a crushing wave— he was starting to go into rut. Undoubtedly from the combination of how he’d been continuously challenged and the pheromones of heat now filling the room’s air.

Immediately Hinoka turned to face him, instinctively shielding her partner, or as much as she could with her hand still being held. Behind her, the Yin man grunted curtly and his scent grew displeased. That displeasure had her Yang instincts clamoring over possible failure… but it would be a bigger failure to let him be unsafe.

Rut shortened a Yang’s temper and caused it to burn hotter, even for the most disciplined. Instincts made it so that they reacted faster and more aggressively than any other status to violence. Most took naturally to training as a warrior, yet at the same time combat threatened their control most— giving into instinct meant the chance of falling into a battle frenzy. A Yang taken by bloodlust was just as addled as one in the throes of rut.

Ryouma had been angry since the start of their talk and it was obvious both he and Marx currently viewed each other as a threat. The escalating tensions could easily transform into open hostility, which Hinoka knew would turn into a dumb, instinctual battle. One neither of them would want when in their right minds. One that wouldn't bring resolution regardless of who won.

Hinoka allowed her eyes to fall in submission. “Ryouma, please, Marx needs-”

Her words caught in her throat when he harshly spoke over her, “You’re acting out of instinct, dominating a naturally submissive Yin in heat. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

She kept her gaze deferentially towards the ground, her heart hurting. Even if what he said was true, she didn’t want to hear it. Hinoka had to swallow before she managed to reply, “I might not have experience, but I know what to do. Marx has told me what he needs.”

The grip on her hand briefly squeezed, from surprise or out of support she didn’t have time to figure out.

A low growl rumbled out from deep within her brother’s chest, and had her eyes snapping up. He wasn’t looking at her as he bit out, “My sister deserves better than an uncontrollable Nohrian rakehell!”

Hinoka gasped as Ryouma physically lifted her off her feet and wrenched her away from the other man’s grasp.

Marx gave a ferocious snarl, one that twisted his features and bared his teeth. He lunged forward with a hand raised to reach for her. Ryouma roared, loud and rough, a noise that had her hair standing on end. Then he took a swing with his free hand. Marx barely ducked back in time, but struck an even harsher blow in answer that had her brother releasing her as he stumbled. Hinoka was suddenly shoved out of the way, as both men focused on attacking one another in earnest.

Violently colliding, they traded punches and grappled within the small, overcrowded space. The air in the room was becoming difficult to bear. The stench of aggression and metallic smell of drawn blood aggravated her senses. Her Yang instincts were screaming to do something, but Hinoka felt almost paralyzed, afraid to make things even worse.

With speed surprising for his size, Ryouma got within the guard of Marx’s arms then clamped his hands down hard against the back of his neck— thumbs and the heel of his palms digging into swollen scent glands. The Yin man gave a sharp gasp, head rolling back as his body went slack and his legs buckled beneath him. This use of his biology against him, forcing Marx to submit when he was clearly unwilling had rage coursing through Hinoka’s veins. Her older brother was stronger than her, heavier even if she'd been fully armored and him not.

Yet all her life, Hinoka’d been fighting against stronger and heavier opponents, so she didn't hesitate in her strike. She weaved low, leveraged her full body weight against his midsection with her shoulder, and forced Ryouma away from her Yin. She planted herself firmly between the men, facing the other Yang with teeth bared in challenge. Ryouma made a low noise not quite a growl, but his eyes were focused rather than hazy.

“Look at us acting like base animals.” Ryouma’s hands fisted. “Is this truly what you want, Hinoka?”

“Marx chose me,” she pled. The words ended with a whine that she wouldn’t have thought could come out of her own mouth. Yet that sound encapsulated the desperation she felt, how she needed her brother to back down.

Ryouma roared loud again and she nearly folded. All her life Hinoka'd deferred to her older brother, those many years told her body to move, to draw back, to step away. Yet Hinoka didn't listen to these old habits, instead she refused to give ground and expose her Yin. She didn’t want to fight Ryouma, but she wouldn’t abandon Marx.

So Hinoka loosened the tight hold upon her emotions and instinctual protectiveness, took a deep inhale, and roared back. This actually had Ryouma drawing away with a look of surprise on his face. Her entire body coiled tight with anticipation of her brother’s next move.

She forced herself to ignore the way she sensed Marx struggling to stand just behind her. There were many measured breaths before her brother straightened his posture, perhaps trying to intimidate her with his full height. Hinoka remained poised on the balls of her feet, ready to respond, despite how she had to hide the shivering in her limbs.

She almost heard his teeth grinding as Ryouma unclenched his jaw and said, “I am the high prince of Hoshido, while I am also your brother.” Although he remained tense, his arms lowered and hands opened. “...do as you wish."

All the anticipatory pent-up energy was suddenly spent and she felt dully hollow inside. "Ryou-"

"Do not speak! Unless you wish to change my mind on allowing your decisions to stand.” At her silence her brother gestured towards the doorway.

When Hinoka didn’t immediately move, Marx settled his palms upon the edges of her shoulders, framing her before him between his large hands. His touch was what coaxed her into turning and leaving the room through the curtain. As they exited she had to blink over the difference of the airy hall’s many windows letting in the evening light.

Once Hinoka’s sight focused again, her heart began to race over what she saw— her younger brother, sister, and two of their retainers all staring. Her knees likely would’ve locked up if Marx hadn’t continued to slowly nudge her forward. They’d been found out, all her siblings knew now, and she couldn’t even manage a reassuring smile.

Tsubaki leaned against the wall appearing cool and collected, but Hinoka had known the tenma warrior long enough to tell that he was actually on edge. Beside him Sakura stood with worried eyes, her slender fingers fretting together nervously. Her sister stuttered out, “A-are you o-okay? It s-sounded like…”

“Were you fighting?” Takumi asked, his scent full of enough confusion and concern that she could smell it from a pace away. Oboro hovered just behind him, sending an ugly look towards the Nohrian prince.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” Hinoka reassured them. Although her younger siblings continued to look and smell concerned, and she knew her own nervous scent likely contradicted her words. That is, if they could notice it underneath the overwhelming Yin pheromones.

Takumi glanced beyond her and his hands curled at his sides, as if seeking a bow and arrow. “This morning, the Yang heat partner Ryouma spoke of… It’s been you this whole time?”

The suspicion in his tone had Hinoka biting her lip, but she made herself nod. Betrayal flashed over Takumi’s face, then he turned his head as if he couldn’t stand to look anymore. Sakura’s fretting hands rose to cover a silent gasp. Hinoka's face grew hot with an embarrassed blush, that her secret would shock and upset her family so.

She nearly yelped when Marx’s grip on her shoulders tightened and he spun them so that their backs were to a wall rather than the doorway.

With a push of the curtain Ryouma came through and his scent spilled into the hall, almost as pungent as the Yin man behind her. Slowly, her older brother met each pair of eyes in the hallway, then he raised his head up in a show of superiority. “Marx of Nohr, I entrust my sister to you. Hurt her and I will make sure you regret it.” Despite the sputtered protests and gasps from those surrounding them, he pointed and ordered, “Go.”

Her heart thudded hard as a rush of feelings filled the hollowness, at the realization that her brother was giving permission for her to go… permission that possibly extended beyond this day. Without a word Marx directed her forward with a firmer hand than before, and Hinoka allowed him to set a fast pace. She heard Takumi demanding an explanation but they’d exited the hall to cross an outdoor pavilion before she could hear any answer.

Chapter Text

Marx kept them moving through the palace's corridors, his pace only slowing once they’d reached a wing of the building in which Hinoka hadn’t been before. From the turns they’d taken to get here, it seemed to be on the opposite side of the Tou palace from the rooms her family and their retainers were lodged, thus was likely where Maharaja Ryuurei had the Nohrian retinue staying. The hallway was decorated not in vivid reds or crisp whites or silvery blues, but in deep purples and velvety blacks. However, when she tried to stop for a better look, Hinoka instead found herself pushed forward.

Exhaling with a huff, she dug in her heels and was nearly bowled over by the man behind her. Marx halted and his grip on her shoulders fell away as Hinoka turned to face him. Marx took a step back so that he was no longer crowding against her, yet said nothing despite the question in his gaze.

Rather than saying what was on her mind, Hinoka closed her eyes and deeply inhaled.

Although the richness of heat still filled Marx’s scent, it couldn't cover the bitter smell of adrenaline or the stench of blood that still lingered in the air about him. Opening her eyes, a cursory glance confirmed no major damage, mostly scratches and bruising. Notably, his knuckles were bruised and the rightmost had a split in the skin that was bleeding sluggishly.

Hinoka took his injured hand between hers. “You’re hurt.”

“It smells worse than it is,” he responded quietly.

She raised up his hand, locked eyes with him— opened her mouth and slowly licked the cut. Marx’s hand spasmed at the first brush of her tongue, but stilled soon after and he did not pull away. She watched his pupils dilate as she carefully lapped at his wound, although his breathing remained even. Despite the metallic tang in her mouth, her Yang ego was pleased that he hadn’t shaken off her attentions. Hinoka focused on tending to him.

Once his knuckles had been cleaned, she took a step and closed the space between them. Tracing a finger through his hair, parting the curls, she then caressed along the line of his neck. Hinoka’s hand trailed until her fingers stroked at his nape, the motion repetitive and soothing. When Marx didn't shrug her away, she pressed until he leaned forward within reach of her mouth. A thrill went through her at how malleable the Yin man was, so willing to move, to be handled. Allowing Yang instincts to overtake her, she lapped at the bruise blossoming along his sharp cheekbone and then scratches beneath his jawline. Marx breathily groaned at her ministrations and tilted his head, his hands settling on the cinque of her waist as he offered better access.

Without thought, Hinoka tugged the cravat away and exposed the source of his mouth-watering smell. However, rather than appreciating his uncovered flesh and swollen scent glands, she couldn’t hold back a growl as she took in the myriad of bruises finger-printed onto the column of his neck— undoubtedly left by that earlier cruel hold. A shiver went through Marx and silenced her growl, had her instead softly shushing. With great care Hinoka licked every purpling mark that marred his pale skin, listening as the Yin man’s breathing grew quicker and more shallow. While her mouth worked so did her hands, reaching for every place mussed from the fight and compulsively replacing Ryouma’s touches with her own.

Her tongue actually tasted his heat, pheromones undiluted in the sweat salting his skin— and it didn’t take long for her to grow intoxicated on him. She could both taste and smell how he'd become aroused, the aroma rich and lush, so very Yin. Rut rose within her like a roaring tide, had Hinoka feeling tender and too alert. It took all her willpower not to crowd Marx, to not herd him into a dark corner for her to guard, to tie with.

As her licking intensified into sucking, her teeth ached like when she chewed a too-sweet confection. Instincts demanded she shut her jaw— to ensure that all would know this man was taken. Was hers.

Before she could give into the urge and set her teeth in the crook of his neck, the sound of footsteps filled the hallway. One heeled set approached alarmingly fast. Reluctantly separating from Marx’s neck and ignoring his disappointed groan, Hinoka whirled around to face the intruders.

“Hey, Princess Hinoka, big brother!” Nohr’s youngest royal greeted as she trotted up to them.

While in rut Hinoka’s sense of smell was so much sharper— Elise’s sugary scent tickled her nose in a way that threatened to draw out sneezes. She found herself holding her breath to prevent such a reaction and insult the youngest Nohrian royal. As with nearly everyone else Hinoka currently found her scent off-putting. However, any thoughts regarding this were cut off when Elise’s eyes went wide and she gasped, “Big brother, what happened?!”

Hinoka felt Marx shift behind her, then he spoke with a desire-roughened voice, “It’s nothing, Elise. A disagreement with Hoshido’s high prince merely ended… poorly.”

“I’ll go get my staff and heal you up! Camilla and Leo would be upset if they saw you hurt.” Elise nodded to herself, then leaned in conspiratorially. “But first… Wouldn’t you two be more comfortable with some privacy?”

Hinoka’s attention snapped away from the unfamiliar large man and small woman still approaching. Although rut itched under her skin and colored her thoughts, she felt her face flush with embarrassment undoubtedly flooding her scent. How could such a young girl be completely unfazed by what she must’ve seen a near stranger doing to Marx out in the open? Was Nohr truly so dismissive of decorum? Her blush grew hotter as Marx laid his hand over the back of her neck, his fingers mimicking her earlier soothing— playing with the hair that curled at her nape.

Elise grinned, seeming to approve of this display of affection. She then motioned for them to follow her, “C’mon, we’ll escort you to Marx’s room. And after I’ve healed him, we’ll make sure no one interrupts.”

Hinoka was woken by a sound, a sharp rapping on wood. As she blearily opened her eyes the first things her gaze landed on was blankets, bedsheets, pillows, and other fabrics made into a circle shape which she was currently lying within. There were also towels and hand cloths stacked up along with other things, like cushions and even a curtain. The sight of a darkly colored tunic amidst the tangle, brought back memories of her first night in this room.

Marx had ushered her to this room that’d smelled strongly of him and before they’d even reached the bed or properly undressed she'd taken him as desperately as they'd both needed, hard and fast— and not merely once. After that she recalled, how rather than just letting their clothing fall to the floor Marx had tossed them at the pile in this bed, and that'd been when Hinoka realized this was a nest rather than just a mess.

Building a nest by hand was an instinct only Yins possessed, Yang and Wuji didn’t feel this urge to create a safe and comfortable place just as they didn’t go into heat. Hinoka’s instructors had taught her it was an age old instinct to show any potential mates that a Yin was ready to produce and care for offspring. The reaction it invoked in her seemed just as deep-rooted. For despite the chaotic construction, it felt right for her to be surrounded by Marx's scent and to be adding her own to the mix.

Hinoka hadn't seen a nested bed before this. Let alone been invited into one by the Yin who’d made it. Maybe once when she’d still been an infant there would’ve been her blood mother’s nest… but that wasn’t something she could recall.

Belatedly, she noticed how rather than feeling restless and too-alert, she felt languid and sleepy. Rubbing some grit from her eyes, the fact that she'd actually fallen asleep helped chase off the desire to simply inhale and doze. She racked her brain, remembering how they’d franticly come together again and again until... exhaustion must've overtaken them both. The only way she could’ve slept was if she wasn’t in rut— which meant the Yin man whose nest she was lying in was no longer in heat.

Alarm spiked through her, her Yang ego despairing at the possibility of her partner having been snatched away while she slept. Sitting up Hinoka’s gaze quickly landed her bedmate, and the spike of anxiety eased as she found him still slumbering soundly. Marx lay on his side with his face was turned into her red and white uniform clutched in his hands, which she vaguely recalled had been stuffed into that side of the nest.

Without another thought, she leaned in until her face was almost against the back of Marx’s neck. Hinoka breathed deeply and found the enticing edge of heat gone. Instead she inhaled a smell like rich soil and rain, cool earthiness— a distinctly Yin scent which’d become familiar in a way that rut had formerly compelled her to seek. Even without the pheromones of heat his personal scent appealed to her Yang senses and his well-formed body reclined comfortably proved a lovely sight. Despite everything they’d done in this room not hours before Hinoka felt desires kindle.

Another set of sharp raps at the doorway shifted her focus from that and had her gingerly backing off. As much as she wanted to settle back down and wrap herself around the Yin man, to keep him safe and protected, sheltered under her body— Hinoka knew she needed to meet whomever was knocking. However, there was also a need for her to be at least partially decent to do this task and there hadn't been even one moment to stop and clean up.

Glancing to where her clothing was, Hinoka had to will her eyes not to rove his frame in a pleasant but highly inappropriate distraction. She bit her lip over having to ruin what she understood to be important to Yins, but refused to possibly wake Marx by yanking her uniform out of his grasp. Instead she climbed out of the nest, stood, and took a bedsheet out of the side farthest from the sleeping Yin man.

Hastily wrapping it about her, Hinoka ignored the smells that clung to the fabric, and padded through the doorway.

“Princess Hinoka, hello.” Nohr's first princess purred, still perfumed and cloyingly sweet.

Hinoka returned the greeting with as much dignity as she could muster, “Princess Camilla.”

Wrapped in only a bedsheet, Camilla’s canny gaze had her fidgeting. Still the hallway was otherwise empty, and had her thankful no one else was there to see her in such an undignified state. Marx’s sister held up a square of folded parchment between her fingers, but tilted it away when Hinoka reached for it.

Camilla looked her over, slow and lingering, then said, "Before I give you this, I wanted us to have a little chat about Alphas and Omegas."

"W-why?" Feeling suddenly exposed, Hinoka tucked her arm back to help hold the sheet more modestly about herself.

The Yin woman chuffed low in her throat, brushing back the long curls of lavender hair. "Dear girl, that fight with Prince Ryouma is no secret. And I can guess what it was about..."

Camilla looked past her to the curtained doorway of Marx’s room, and Hinoka's entire body grew tense. There was little doubt in her mind that Nohr's first princess would lecture her: On how Marx had been emotionally and physically compromised by his heat. On how she'd made decisions based on pheromones pleading for a strong, competent Yang to take care of him. On how she must leave without protest now that it had ended.

She braced herself as the Camilla spoke, "Whatever you think of Omegas, understand that Marx's cycles always have a long lasting estrous. He's exhausted partners in the past before it was over.”

"...even if they don't leave his side, it lasts more than a day?" Hinoka asked, unable to keep quiet.

The Yin woman dipped her head in a slow nod. “Which makes my brother reluctant to bring any partners to his nest. Imagine how significant it is that I’ve found you here?"

“I…” Hinoka inhaled as subtly as she could and didn’t smell lie, but neither did she believe Ryouma would mislead her. She felt out of her depth, so demanded, “Princess Camilla, please speak plainly.”

Camilla’s visible eye gleamed as she answered, “Very well, Princess Hinoka. I saw the way you two were looking at each other since the start of these talks, passion bridled by propriety. With that not holding either of you back, I’m thrilled you’re both getting along so well.”

Hinoka felt a lump gathering as her throat grew tight with nerves, but managed to ask, “You don’t… if I wanted to be your brother’s bondmate would you disapprove?”

“Why should I? You’ve told me there’s no pity involved, and my brother’s happiness is more important to me than propriety.” Camilla smiled, though Hinoka couldn’t pin down precisely at what, then she held up a square of parchment. “Now here’s a message from your darling sister. Princess Sakura asked me to deliver it personally.”

Hinoka swallowed past the lump and accepted the letter with thanks. Judging from the light streaming in through the hall windows it was around noon, which meant it’d been over two days since Marx had brought her to his room— since Ryouma had granted her permission and given her a warning. She tried not to wonder what had gone on outside her Yin’s nest during that time, not to wonder if her younger brother and sister were as disappointed in her as her older brother had been.

A cry rent the air, an incoherent sound strung somewhere between a yowl and a sob, too loud and impossible to ignore.

"Oh no," Camilla looked past her to the curtained doorway. "You'd best go to him before the entire palace hears."

Hinoka didn't reply or even nod, instead pushing the curtain aside as an even louder yowl carried from inside the room. Despite never hearing the sound before in her life, the primal part of her brain responded— her Yin was calling for his Yang.

What she saw once in the room forced the air from her in a rush. Marx was no longer sprawled comfortably in slumber, but on his knees and hunched in on himself. Hinoka spied his hands clutching the material where her own body had lain not so long ago, and her heart ached as she watched him throw his head back to yowl again. When she approached the bed his head snapped in her direction and the sound he was making quieted until it was weak, low, and still full of distress.

"You were gone. You left," his words might've been an accusation if it hadn't ended in a miserable, choked hitch of breath.

As Hinoka stepped up to the bed Marx didn't try to straighten his posture, but rather watched her over a curled shoulder. This close she couldn't miss the frantic anxiety souring his scent, and it had her reaching for him without thought. However, she caught herself before touching him, and said softly, "I'm sorry, I meant to be back before you woke up."

A little, unhappy sound escaped him and then Marx shifted his body until her hand was pushed against his skin. Hinoka inhaled sharply as she felt how he was trembling, then set aside her doubts to firmly stroke over his well-muscled back and give him the contact he obviously craved. She released her hold on the bedsheet and letter to gently smooth back tousled blond hair with her other hand, settling to sit on the edge of the bed, all while softly crooning in her throat. She comforted him from outside the nest, his tremors steadily lessening as scent lost its sourness.

Once the trembling had subsided altogether, she asked, "How're you feeling, Marx?"

She felt him heave a sigh as much as she heard it. "Just... overly emotional. Please excuse my clinginess, but to be alone after estrous-"

Marx cut himself off, abruptly as if he'd been struck. She saw shame creep into his expression, and only because of how intimately she'd seen his moods shift during their time together. Hinoka recalled his yowls, heartbroken sounds.

She shook her head, "I won't leave again until you're ready, I promise."

Marx closed his eyes and almost looked to be in pain, but he nodded and curled himself closer to her. She was hit by the impulse to climb back into the nest and wrap herself around him until no space remained, but resisted. Instead she satisfied a different Yang instinct, by asking, "Would you like something to eat?"

"...yes," he answered quietly, not opening his eyes.

His entire body grew tense when she ceased petting, his hands fisting as she drew away but he didn’t make a sound. Hinoka didn't go far, just to an end table within the room that held easily eaten foodstuffs— a stockpile Marx must’ve prepared himself when his heat had begun, something that as a Yang she should’ve done. The pile had been bigger when she'd first arrived in this room, but hazily she remembered how during the lulls of Marx's heat the instinct to provide would goad her into snatching something from this table and feeding it to her Yin. Unlike all those times, she felt her own stomach clench with hunger at the sight and smell of food, so she took up items for both him and herself then returned to the nested bed.

Marx had uncurled himself and sat up, though hadn’t otherwise moved from his spot within the nest. A water gourd was in his hands and tipped against his open mouth. She was glad that her rut-addled mind had the foresight to have moved it within reach. Once he had recorked the gourd and she settled on the edge of the bed, Hinoka held up the food she’d collected in offering. His appetite must’ve been mild as he took only a roll of jackfruit leather and one bar of dried sweetened millet. She didn’t hound him for it, instead cataloguing what was left: strips of dried mango, several pieces of fresh coconut meat, a handful of banana chips, and leftover dried millet bars. She’d eaten all the fruit and had chewed half-way through a bar, when Marx bumped her and she distractedly reached out a hand to pat him on the thigh— a soft noise caught her attention.

It had been a very small sound, a sharply indrawn breath, the noise of someone trying to stay silent and failing. Yet audible nonetheless. She glanced to him and realized when she’d moved her hand she’d brushed against the bulge of something else instead. Swallowing her mouthful was more difficult than the last. Her mouth felt dry as she spoke, “Marx-”

“You don’t have to,” He interrupted, bashfully averted his gaze. “My estrous has ended, I can… take care of that myself.”

The way his shoulders curled in, and how he wouldn't maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time— with his heat over Marx had become shy. It struck her as adorable, before the fear of her attentions now being unwanted hit her. However, with Camilla words were fresh in her mind Hinoka found herself more hopeful than afraid.

So she set the food aside and asked, “What if I wanted to? Not as a heat partner, but because I want to?”

“…is that what you want?” Marx’s dark eyes looked to her and didn’t dart away, “To be with me beyond my time of estrous?”

Anticipation lanced through Hinoka, and she resisted biting her lip as she nodded. “If you’d have me, yes.”

Marx’d turned his whole body towards her, his scent thickening with too many emotions for her to sort out in one moment.

“Prince Ryouma said you simply wanted to dominate me, tried to say that’s all anything could be between us.” The possibility of her irresponsibility as a Yang stung, but Marx’s gaze didn’t waver as he continued, "Do you truly believe you mistreated me? Did anything to me that I didn't crave? Didn't beg for?"

Hinoka swallowed hard at the intensity of his gaze. "Please, Marx, I- I'm just not sure. My memories of our time together are... are somewhat hazy."

"I remember, I remember everything." He sat up straighter. "If you trust me, I will demonstrate how you treated me. Will you permit it, Hinoka?"

His sudden boldness stirred something within her, made her both excited and nervous. "W-what do you mean, demonstrate?"

“We’ll make love, but you’ll submit to me this time.” He said, voice soft as silk.

Her heart started racing at the suggestion— a Yang submitting to a Yin! It went against everything she’d been taught; it went against the natural order. Yet the fact Marx had chosen the phrase make love and the idea he wanted her outside of his heat, in any way, had her body tingling with desire. She had to swallow before she could stutter out, “H-have you, u-um…”

His hand boldly caressed her arm and he said, “I’ve taken lead in the bedroom before, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

The idea of Marx not obedient and malleable but hard and commanding had a blush rising over Hinoka’s face. She couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to have Marx over her, taking her, since it felt so good when she was seated above him. Despite the illicit thrill she found herself tongue-tied, and for the first time since their meeting in the cold bath part of her wanted to run. The pause between them grew awkward with her silence.

Marx actually glanced away, his expression bashful. “But you don’t have to. Everything I said in front of your brother, you don’t have to do any of it. I just wanted to give you a choice.”

“We were all worked up, none of us showed our best sides that day.” Hinoka kept her voice even, though she hated how Marx’s sounded abashed. “But I meant what I said. Marx, I… I want to get to know you.”

His expression lifted with her words and his dark eyes beckoned her. “Then trust me, Hinoka.”

The Yin man shifted again, this time positioning himself deeper into his nest making room for her to join him. His invitation was a tender thing, easily hurt if she were careless, yet asking if he was certain felt wrong. Frustrated by her inability to find the right words, she must’ve smelled fretful, for Marx made an inquisitive hum then dropped his head back against an edge of the nest, exposing the line of his throat to her. Despite his proposal this act of submission made it clear that it was Hinoka’s decision, and he was willing and eager— that knowledge soothed her worries.

She smiled at him and climbed into his nest, hoping she didn’t look or smell as nervous as she felt.

Hinoka got down on her hands and knees in the center of tangled blankets, cushions, and sheets that covered the messy bed. Each breath she took was full of his Yin scent and it made her want to add more of her own. She felt hyperaware of how Marx moved behind her. Her instincts didn't like how exposed this position left him, how anyone could try to pull him away and take him for themselves. It made her Yang ego feel like she wasn't protecting her partner properly. Even without rut her nature urged her to keep him covered and safe from anyone who'd come between them.

Pressing her teeth against her lower lip, she fought the urge to turn and flip Marx onto his back. Hinoka ignored these clamorings and shut her eyes, waiting for him to make a move. She'd expected the Yin man to immediately line up their bodies and take her, but instead she felt the light touches brushing over the top of her clenched hands and up her arms.

His fingertips ghosting across on her shoulders had her opening her eyes, she looked back. "Wha-what're you doing?"

Marx wasn't hovering behind her, prepared to mount, but instead sat back on his knees upon the mattress. His gaze almost dragged over her naked form, and his long arms allowed him to follow the trail without blocking his own view. By the time his eyes finally met hers, Hinoka's face had flushed hotly at his heavy stare and exploratory touches.

"You granted me the lead, so I set the pace." Marx didn't smirk but she could hear it in his voice. However, rather than smugly reveling he gingerly withdrew his hand and asked, "I'd like to take my time, if you can stand it?"

After a moment Hinoka nodded, despite gnawing her lower lip at the challenge in his words. He did smirk this time, eyes darkening further with desire. She wanted nothing more than turn around and kiss him, so she looked away and forced her body to maintain the submissive position. It meant she didn't watch as one of his hands drifted over her bare back, stroked the length of her spine in a rhythmic way that was both soothing and maddening, then settled on the small of it and stroked so slowly that it made her skin pebble into gooseflesh. Again his touch explored her, with nearly excruciating patience and with the same curiosity he’d had during their first time together.

His palm slid from her shoulder down to her collarbone, along her sternum, then came to rest on the swell of her breast over her pounding heart. Without the hazy drive of rut, Hinoka felt suddenly self-conscious. He had called her beautiful before... but that might've been his heat talking. She knew her slight build to be lacking in feminine appeal, even Sakura had lusher curves compared to herself.

Marx seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil, however. His hand over her heartbeat had become greedy— applying pressure and then releasing in a way that had her stifling down moans and shudders. His other hand trailed down her flank, to the apex of her thighs. He gave a pleased hum as he reached where their bodies would join, fingertips stroking through the liquid desire gathered there and causing her to stifle gasps.

When he nudged a knee between Hinoka’s thighs, she spread them willingly. The Yin man pushed his leg up, until her lower half was practically astride it with her feet barely in contact with the bedding. The position relied on her hands propped against the mattress for support with only Marx’s hold over her heart ensuring balance. It proved quite distracting as Marx’s hands remained stroking as he started to gently rock. Hinoka shivered and canted her hips as best she could for greater contact with his firm thigh, grinding back when he rocked against her before she bucked forward into the press of his fingers.

Between the dual sensations Hinoka squirmed more and more, desperately frotting against his thigh, and knowing any climax brought from this friction while unfilled would be shallow. In response to her increasingly wild motions, Marx leaned closer until his chest was flush against her back. This shift caused her knees to buckle and pressed her upper body against an edge of the nest, where she inhaled the fading pheromones of his heat that clung to the various fabrics.

Tucked together like this, the difference in their physical size became all the more apparent with her beneath him rather than atop. Her back and behind was completely covered by his larger form, whenever he rocked the top of her head brushed against his chin. She was completely enveloped by the warmth of his body and his scent; rather than her Yang ego rebelling Hinoka felt lightheaded with giddiness.

Despite how overwhelming it all was she noticed the strange sensation, like a fluttering tiny wings. After a moment, she realized it was the rapid tattoo of Marx’s heart beating against her back. It was racing. She breathed deeply, his Yin scent at once familiar and exotic— although she couldn’t smell it underneath the delicious smell of his lust, it seemed he was just as nervous as she was.

He shifted until his head was beside her ear. Pressed together like they were, she felt the words rumble as he said, “This is how you made me feel, Hinoka. Overcome and desperate for more.”

Marx’s hands squeezed and the crests of his rocking strengthened. Hinoka didn't even try to hold back gasps and moans as he set to nuzzling and kissing the back of her neck. And yet, it wasn’t with the same desperation as he had in the cold baths. His mouth trailed lightly over her skin, his kisses too chaste to satisfy.

Hinoka arched her body and groaned, “Stop teasing! Give me release.”

“Give?” She felt his mouth curl into a smile against her skin. “Then I am not taking advantage? Taking you, Hinoka?”

“I want you to take me,” she said with a needy whimper. “Marx, please-”

Her words became a strangled cry when the hand between her legs shifted and his fingers were suddenly inside. He feathered kisses up to her nape until his lips reached a spot under her ear— one that proved most sensitive when he sucked. It made Hinoka peak, her entire body clenched tight as she lost her breath and saw stars. As explosive as the climax was she fell from it just as fast, and found herself a shuddering mess of jellied limbs. Only the Yin man’s hold and leg between hers had kept her from collapsing face-first into the blanketed cushions.

Marx wasn’t unaffected by all this, she heard his harsh inhales and felt the hard evidence of his desire. He wasn’t giving her a chance to catch her breath either. Each time Marx’s fingers flexed inside or his mouth applied more suction, her entire body clenched. With her inner muscles still clamped around his fingers and with his solid weight anchoring her, she couldn’t even try to shy away. His free hand stroked and petted, caressed and teased, until she strained between melting and writhing beneath him.

Finally, her inner muscles relaxed and he moved away slightly. With that modicum of respite, Hinoka tried to collect herself. But her efforts were ruined when Marx bent his head, inhaled deeply, and made low sound of satisfaction— it sent a spike of arousal thrumming through her. His mouth caught her ear and rolled the lobe between his teeth and tongue.

He released her earlobe after a suck and whispered, "I’ll give you what you want, my pretty little Alpha."

Her heart skipped a beat as Marx’s hand left her chest to cup her cheek with his palm briefly, then his hand trailed down and his fingers splayed open on the column of her throat. His thumb brushed over the pulsepoint in her neck, and for the second time in her life Hinoka gave a keening whine. The Yin man stilled at the sound while Hinoka tilted her head forward, deliberately exposing her neck. This seemed to give Marx pause, likely because a Yang purposefully showing such vulnerability was...unnatural. Yet he didn't immediately withdraw as she feared he might.

Instead Marx shifted his grip and flipped her body, her long legs sliding over his narrow hips, so that she was on her back staring up at him. His face was almost as flushed as he had been in heat, only the scarcest ring of color was visible around his dilated pupils, and rather than dreamy the desire in his gaze was sharp and hungry. When his mouth met hers Hinoka parted her lips without a fight, easily gave in to the softest of proddings.

With her hands free, she was helpless to keep herself from touching him. Hinoka clutched, caressed, and finally wound her arms about his broad shoulders for leverage to press even closer together. She grew desperate in starts, chasing his kisses, hips pushing into his hand. When she brushed against his hard desire he broke the kiss, making her groan at the loss.

Marx gazed into her eyes as he said, “Hinoka, I want you. Will you have me today, tomorrow, and all days?”

“Yes, Marx,” she answered without hesitation.

Hinoka lifted her hips as he splayed the fingers of one hand over the small of her back and guided himself closer with the other. She reached down and helped him, shared gaze unwavering as their bodies joined. Marx pushed in slowly and she canted her hips to urge him deeper, moaning wordless encouragements, until his hips met her own. Then, he paused above her and they panted in time. Hinoka reveled in the feeling— of being filled, of having someone as close as physically possible.

Marx braced his hands on the mattress but kept his thrusts gentle, shallow, more rocking than anything else. He seemed to listen for any moans or hitches in her breathing, jerking whenever she contracted down around him. After a few repetitions she moved with him, wrapping her legs tight around his hips and pushing up into each thrust. The slow and steady rhythm of their bodies was so unlike the frantic unions his heat and her rut had inspired. His hips had tilted to caress her inside just so, rubbing a sweet spot that threatened to make her fall apart with each stroke.

"Oh, gods, Marx-" Her breath hitched loudly, and she forgot whatever she wanted to say— heat and pleasure crashed through her and washed all other thoughts away. Hinoka gasped out, "Marx!"

"Hin-Hinoka," Marx’s voice broke. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, quick breaths hot over her sweaty skin.

Again he touched her right above where their bodies joined, rubbing circles in the slickness, and at the strokes of his calloused thumb her pleasure crested and rippled through from head to toe. Hinoka's hips snapped up, eager for him— until her inner muscles clamped down in climax. She still soared with release when Marx shouted and spilled, the sticky heat only adding to the high.

When Hinoka’s wits came back to her, they were laying down on their sides within the nest curled against each other with legs tangled and his broad chest against her breasts, still tied together. He kept one arm wrapped around and pressed his hand to her belly, kneading like a cat. That action felt better than it should, with him still filling her inside and his hand pushing at the taunt flesh. Without the hormones of rut to amplify her stamina Hinoka simply shivered, tired but thoroughly sated.

The amount of enjoyment she’d experienced from having Marx above her, dominant despite his soft Yin scent, was most improper but she lacked the energy to care.

Marx gave a contented hum then asked, "Will you tell me about your mother?"

Hinoka huffed, having almost forgotten that fact that he’d eavesdropped on her and Ryouma. It seemed he both had a good memory and was the curious sort. She took a deep breath, then answered, "Like Nohr's Queen Shenmei, she's a princess from Touma-"

Marx shook his head, inadvertently nuzzling her as he interrupted. "Not Queen Mikoto. I mean your blood mother."

"Oh," She bit lip. "I... I actually don't know Ikona very well."

Her blood mother, Ikona, had always lived in quarters separated far from Hoshido’s court at the castle for as long as Hinoka could remember. But she’d heard all the stories, malicious and otherwise, of how she’d come to be Sumeragi’s second bondmate. When Ikona had been brought to Shirazaki in order to facilitate a mutual rut, it’d been her first time to the city— before that she lived as the daughter of a rice farmer who’d had no business at the capital, let alone inside the castle.

Ryouma had been born and then herself before their father’s first bondmate had finally given birth to a son of her own. While Ikona lived in a cloister away from Shirazaki, they’d been raised alongside the heir apparent, Kamui, in the castle by Queen Mikoto. Hinoka could remember while they were growing up how her older brother had been jealous of Kamui, of his favored position. However, the order of inheritance had all changed when their younger brother had grown into adolescence and presented as Wuji. That was the reason Ryouma was recognized as the prince in line to ascend the throne, because he was Yang and their brother was not.

Yet that they and their younger siblings were born of a Yin was a fact the four of them couldn’t forget. In court many doubts circulated around the royal children’s status whenever they displayed less than assertive behaviors. Takumi and Sakura had endured the worst of the rumors concerning status. If nothing else the incident on this trip would disprove it and shame all the gossips. Now she had to wonder if their father didn’t keep Ikona hidden away to spare her from such ugly talk.

Hinoka realized she had fallen silent when Marx nudged her. However, he didn’t seem displeased as he said, "My mother, Queen Ekaterina, was an Alpha. People of that status don't have it easy in Nohr, but she climbed the ranks of our army by virtue of her skill. My father heard about her exploits on the battlefield long before he'd ever met her in person." His breath blew over her, steady as the beat of his heart against her. "...the stories about a Hoshidan princess who'd become a knight had me curious to meet you, Hinoka."

The comparisons Marx drew between them and his parents had her face flushing hotly. Hinoka tried to cover her embarrassment by saying, "You're mistaken, we have no knights in Hoshido."

"No?" Marx’s hand resting on her belly slid lower and her hips jerked into his touch. It nearly distracted her from hearing him say, "You are certainly a skilled rider."

Hinoka’s face burned over his words and tone, but it was physically impossible for her to turn away from Marx tied as they were. So she caught his distracting hand with hers and demanded, "Why're you teasing me?"

Since he’d pressed his face against her neck she felt a smile curl his lips, before she saw it when he drew back to look into her eyes. "Because I can't stop thinking about what you said. Courting me properly, what would you do?"

He interlaced their fingers as his other arm moved to press their bodies even closer. The tone of his voice was low and just as intimate. Despite the fact that she was not the one doing the covering Hinoka liked this closeness, almost too much, and the realization had her stuttering, "D-do?"

"How would you go about it?” Marx said, voice low and rough enough to make her shiver. He shifted to place a chaste kiss at her temple. “How do Hoshidans court those they wish to bond?"

That evening, Hinoka’d finally gotten the opportunity to read Sakura’s letter. It’d told her about the meetings she had missed, both with the Nohrian royals and only between her family. More than that, her little sister had written about their opinions about the situation with the Nohrian crown prince— and the words she’d chosen had Hinoka anxious to see them in person. Once finished reading she’d spoken to Marx and promising to return, left his room. After making herself presentable, she’d traveled through more familiar halls and now stood before the doorway to the dining room, hoping the hour hadn’t grown too late.

Even though Hinoka had bathed and put on a fresh set of clothing, she knew in her gut that Marx's scent was still on her. That it was embedded enough to be on her for days, if not weeks— just as she knew her own would linger on the Nohrian prince’s pale skin. Although their mixed scent would be dismissable, since neither of them bore a claiming mark. Anyone could make a move on the Yin man and she wouldn't have a recognized claim on which to object. That thought shouldn't cause her Yang ego to bristle like it did.

Shaking off such thoughts Hinoka took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, before finally brushing aside the curtain and walking over to the dining table. As she hoped her family was gathered about it, in the middle of partaking in the evening meal. The moment she’d stepped in the room they’d stared and ceased eating. There was an awkward silence as she reached the table and took a seat on the unoccupied cushion.

“What’re you doing here?” Takumi asked, breaking the silence.

Hinoka almost flinched at her younger brother’s bluntness, but then Sakura spoke up with a softer tone. “W-we weren’t expecting you until l-later. This i-is a surprise, b-but a welcome one.”

Takumi flushed and muttered under his breath ‘of course that’s what I meant’. Hinoka felt herself relax minutely. However, before she could do much more than smile at her younger siblings, Ryouma caught her attention.

“Hinoka.” Her older brother’s tone was calm, but expression serious. “Is Prince Marx’s heat over?”

“It is. Marx and I’ve agreed that we want to keep seeing each other.” Her heartbeat quickened when her answer was met with more silence. She kept an even tone and made herself continue, “When I read Sakura’s letter, I thought… you all understand? This is more than just instinct.”

As the high princess, Hinoka was a sheltered woman by Yang standards. She’d never have dreamed of being chosen as a Yin man’s heat partner, let alone a prince’s. Yet that was precisely what had happened here in Touma— and her time tending Marx had awakened something within her. It was something she hadn't even known was missing, an elemental connection that was impossible until both of them knew their parts openly, to give and take, serve and receive. Unlike what she’d been taught in Hoshido there weren’t fixed roles for either of them, and discovering all of this was a freedom she didn’t want to give up.

Hinoka looked each of her siblings in the eye, and said with confidence, “There’s compatibility, genuine attraction, a balanced match. I… I like this Yin, I want to get to know him better.”

"I do not trust him.” Ryouma sighed, sounding resigned.

Tamping down her temper as it flared, Hinoka implored, "You don't have to, just give us a chance. Please Ryouma, trust me."

"We do trust you, sister.” Takumi leaned in with his elbows on the table. “We talked about it, and agreed to support your decision if you truly wish to go to Nohr. I’ll suggest to father that we send you as our diplomat."

"I-it doesn't have to b-be forever! Just a visit, if t-that's what you want." Sakura suddenly burst, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Hinoka had to blink back her own as the tension in her body drained away, relief undoubtedly weaving through her scent. She gave a genuine smile, "Thank you. Thank you, all."

As they ate Tou style curry and saffron rice the conversation was lighter fare, matching the lightness of her spirit. Although she still had to garner her father’s approval, knowing that she hadn’t estranged her siblings bolstered Hinoka’s determination to make it work. Once they’d moved onto the dessert of fried dough balls sprinkled with sugar and almonds, she found herself daydreaming of how Marx would fit in sitting beside her— sharing in the sweetness and companionship.

Once the plates had been emptied both Sakura and Takumi bid goodnight and quickly left the room, likely seeking their chosen bedmates. Ryouma kept his seat and quiet until Hinoka made to stand, then he said, “So you’re going to Nohr, for him?”

There was something in his tone of voice, a confused sort of curiosity, that doused any sort of anger she might’ve held against him for asking. Hinoka let her gaze fall deferentially away as she replied, “Not entirely. I want to understand, why our kingdoms think so differently. And I’ll take my role as diplomat seriously, for the good of Hoshido.”

“If he doesn’t make you happy, come home.”

She looked up and found Ryouma smiling though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You make it sound like a one-sided effort, brother.”

He raised a hand and set it atop her head, tousling her hair in a way he hadn't since they'd been small children. It felt more nostalgic than patronizing, but she caught his hand and held it between her own. Hinoka gave it a squeeze as she bid him farewell, and then left the red and white hall for one covered in purple and black.

Chapter Text

“She likes your smell.” Camilla practically purred as she came up beside him.

Marx felt sweaty and aching, overheated and undertouched. His sister seemed to sense it and looped an arm with his. He couldn’t help but lean into the contact, greatly comforted by the scent and touch of another.

There had been four Hoshidan Alphas in that too-small meeting room, all squirming, panting, and smelling so good because of his scent. A fact his baser instincts reveled in, even while logic told him nothing could come of it. They had all gathered in Touma to discuss their sibling’s folly and had stopped a war. Now they made steps towards no longer being enemies— and his cycle had hit, hard. No matter what his hindbrain demanded, Marx couldn’t let himself ruin their peace efforts.

He battled through the chemical haze clouding his mind, and finally replied, “They’re Alphas, they can’t help but react to an Omega’s estrous with their own.”

“That’s not what has you in a tizzy, brother.” His sister let him set his weight against her as they walked. “I saw how you couldn’t stop looking at the High Princess.”

Marx almost halted then, forcing his gaze to focus and meet Camilla’s. “…she was right in front of me. Would you rather I’d closed my eyes?”

“I’d rather you stop holding back,” She laughed as if he was being ridiculous. “If you like Princess Hinoka, just reach out-”

“Camilla!” Marx cut his sister off, already knowing she was telling him to just take what he wanted.

She knew what he was going through, as any mature Omega would. However, Camilla viewed estrous as a time of power, knowing what she wanted and having the ability to get it, and she rarely held back during her own. Although he had never thought of his cycles as degrading, Marx understood what he was in both duty and status— how his nose and instincts could lead him astray, thus the self-control he had to maintain.

Bare your burden without complaint. That had been what his father had told Marx when he'd presented as an Omega. After all, it wasn't unusual for their bloodline or really any Nohrian. While they had to contend with the cycles of estrous, it was the better lot compared to being Alpha. Alphas, who arrogantly tried to do the thinking for other statuses, believing that only they could guide properly and didn’t tolerate refusal well. Alphas, who had the shortest tempers and would become bloodthirsty brutes with the slightest of provocations. Alphas, with their borderline megalomaniacal need for supremacy harbored within at all times. At least, that’s what he’d grown up hearing from his countrymen.

Marx’d had little reason to disagree with such consensus, until these fateful weeks in Touma.

Everyone in Nohr knew their long-time enemy were ruled by a bunch of knot-brained Alpha men. The Hoshidans might've believed themselves to be naturally dominant, but Marx and his siblings had spent the better part of their lives learning how to lead others, and how to do so without their knowledge at times. So he’d come prepared, expecting that kingdom’s representatives to put on displays and pressure himself and his siblings for being ‘the weaker status’.

However, the Hoshidan princes and princesses had instead been respectful and cooperative. They’d shown a wide array of temperaments despite their undeniably Alpha musk— Hot-tempered Prince Takumi. Soft-spoken Princess Sakura. Shrewd High Prince Ryouma. Daring High Princess Hinoka.

Hinoka… the one who he’d heard was a knight. Whenever they conversed she always met his eye and spoke directly, unlike the tittering coyness of courtesans that he faced at home or the shrinking shyness of the younger Hoshidan princess. Then again, no Alpha in Nohr would've dared to fuss over him as Hinoka had. Instead of finding it overbearing Marx had enjoyed her attention... had wanted more. Now that estrous had him in its grip, it was almost impossible not to think about having her. His curiosity had grown dangerous.

Marx straightened his stance and shook off his sister’s comforting touch. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“So you’re just going to run away,” Camilla chided.

Marx let out a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Run? From what? I’m hardly being chased. No, I’m going to the baths. There should be enough water to cool my fever somewhat.”

“Very well, let me stand guard for you at least.” Camilla again walked beside him, this time not reaching out to touch. “Otherwise you might be caught.”

“Brother, this isn’t like you.”

Marx almost missed hearing those words, mind currently occupied by the contrast of cool water against his heated skin. He'd sated the burning need to get close to his chosen partner and the afterglow took him enough out of the hormonally-induced desperation to clear his thinking. Pulling his composure together, Marx ceased splashing his face with water from the basin and instead reached for the towel. “What do you mean, Leo?”

“Finding you in that closet.” His younger brother heaved a sigh. “It’s not like you to take risks, even during estrous.”

Drying off, Marx held in a sigh of his own.

He wasn’t the sort of Omega who got his head turned by any pretty pheromones he breathed in. All the partners he’d chosen during past estrouses had been practical and perfunctory. So much… colder than the burning desire that’d filled him upon knowing his current estrous partner intimately.

It had taken some coaxing, but once Hinoka’d been sure of his intentions she'd reveled in his attentions. She'd enjoyed his interest and pursuit, and as estrous steadily receded it'd become painfully clear to him that the Alpha woman hadn't often felt wanted. He'd glimpsed the fire that burned in her heart, and wanted to see her flare brilliantly— rather than remain banked and smoldering.

There were times the Alpha woman would murmur sweet nothings, just last night she’d told him he glowed. Marx had wanted to tell Hinoka that she shone, warm and far brighter than he ever could. His light was the moon, pale in comparison to the strength of her sun. It wasn’t a bad thing, simply relaxing and basking in her strong warmth. When he’d tried to say so the words had gotten tangled on his tongue, so he could only tell her with the touch of his body.

The way he’d just snuck off with Hinoka in broad daylight had been incredibly reckless of him, yet it’d be a lie to say he regretted it.

“Leo, you’re right and your help is appreciated,” he said, attempting to sound properly contrite. Despite the desire that zipped down Marx’s spine as he considered the possibility of being with her again. “I apologize for the inconveniences I’ve caused. But this time is different…”

“Estrous is like a force of nature, you couldn’t have stopped it.” While Leo’s tone was neutral his scent was peppered with aggravation as he said, “None of us could’ve expected to be suffocated by the stink of so many rutting Alphas here.”

It was true Marx’s cycle had come on unexpectedly, and also that Alpha’s weren’t a majority in Nohr’s leadership or population number. Yet this was hardly the first time they’d been exposed to different statuses in estrous. Since they’d hit puberty— part of the world sensed through their nose had provoked instincts that could feel uncontrollable. Their own father, King Garon, was rather infamous on the number of estrous partners from every status he’d taken and kept on in the royal seraglio.

When they'd all been younger, in those first instances of estrous, Leo more often than not had ended up snuggled against Camilla’s hip while their sister petted his hair and soothed him. Later after his brother had matured, he'd chosen a steady partner and it'd been a Beta man. The musk of Alpha scents Leo found unpleasant and described the smell of an Alpha’s estrous as invasive.

So unlike himself. Already Marx could feel estrous rebuilding towards taking hold of himself inch by inch. Even before that fever settled deep and implacable in his bones, relentless and craving, his loins were still curled uncomfortably tight from the kiss he'd given not long ago.

Marx could still taste Hinoka and it made his head swim. Soon enough they’d return to the meeting room and he’d have to maintain his composure with her heady flavor on his tongue. It was a punishment of his own making, and had his lips twist up in a smile as he moved past the changing screen.

“Let us return and finish that treaty. It’ll all change soon enough.”

“Marx, you haven’t been in this big of a rush to bring me to your bed since your last heat.” Hinoka’s words could’ve seemed scolding if not for the smile on her face and excitement brightening her scent.

She was gathered in his arms, close but not close enough as he carried her to his room. “This is the first time I’m bringing my bondmate there. How can I possibly have patience?”

Hinoka stifled a laugh and grumbled teasingly over being bonded to someone so overeager. His beautiful, little Alpha. Her happiness made him melt in the best of ways.

Marx never would've guessed he could fall in love as he had. During those initial days in Touma as his heat partner, Hinoka had proven that she wasn't disloyal nor inconstant. She'd chosen to stand by him even in the face of the high prince's territorial posturing. It was at the confrontation with Ryouma when Marx’s hunch had been confirmed. What he’d felt wasn’t a passing attraction— and that he didn’t want to lose what little had been built between them.

Thankfully she had seized the opportunity, coming to Nohr rather than returning to her homeland. Years had passed since that choice had been made, not all the days were easy. However, Hinoka had worked for the good of both their peoples and shown a will strong and hard, like metal and stone. Marx took pride in her capability and strength.

Yet sometimes in their private moments, that hardness crumbled. When she softened enough to gasp and whimper, to let her head fall forward or back and expose the elegant lines of her throat to him… then, he loved his Alpha all the more tenderly. Loved her soft and delicate edges, loved the fact that he was the only one allowed to see Hinoka like that.

Within the public eye they had properly courted one another, in both Hoshidan and Nohrian tradition. Even going so far as to find a patch of clear sky and make love under the stars while praying to be blessed if their union found favor in the eyes of the gods. His father had given his own blessing to bond after that, and even King Sumeragi had been convinced by Hinoka’s many letters.

So after too much time being patient the royal families had once again been gathered, only this time in Nohr’s capital city, and everyone had witnessed them finally becoming bondmates.

Just thinking about it had Marx shifting to nose along the length of Hinoka’s shoulders, tracing her sun-kissed skin all the way up to the dip of her collarbone. In true Nohrian fashion the white gown left her shoulders and neck tantalizingly bare, displaying his freshly laid claiming mark at the crook. He'd made it in clear view of the audience of their bonding ceremony, so none could doubt— just as she'd bitten him and then laved the wound. The mark on his own body, barely hidden by the formal Hoshidan robes he wore, twinged every time he bent his head.

“Easy, easy!” Hinoka’s hands caught his face. “Takumi would have my hide if we tore the clothes that Oboro spent so much time and energy making.”

Marx shook his head. “He’d have to get through me first.”

Hinoka laughed loud and full. “My little brother’s just as overprotective of his bondmate as you are of me.”

Slowing his pace, Marx carefully shifted his hold until one of his hands rested on her belly that was heavily swollen with child. He leaned in to press his nose against the underside of her jaw. She shivered as he breathed words hot across the curve of her throat. “Not just you…”

He gave into his instincts and inhaled deeply, running her scent over his tongue.

Marx had embraced the fact he was compelled to seek Hinoka’s scent even outside of estrous, that sweetness like freshly cut hay and spice comforted him. Rather than the cinnamon edge of desire, he currently found her smell tantalizing in a different way. That other note, soft and warm as candlelight— the scent of their child growing in her womb. It filled Marx with barely restrained glee and had spurred him into building the surprise that awaited her in his room.

That knowledge reined in his impulses and spurred him to rush them through his chamber doors.

There on the feather mattress of his high-framed bed was a nest. An oval shape, made from thick blankets and quilts packed down with edges tucked to create a bowl. Sheets were bundled along the bottom to provide further comfort, while towels served as a base. He'd chosen the lattermost because of his fond memories of their night in the baths. Marx’d built nests in the past during frenzy of estrous, but those had always been sloppy rushed things of bundled bedclothes and pillows. The nest currently in front of them he’d worked on for months, crafted with careful thought.

Hinoka’s eyes were wide with awe as she beheld his efforts and when she reached out to inspect, a disorienting rush of a feeling swept through Marx that he couldn’t readily describe. He had to swallow past a sudden lump in his throat to ask, “Do you like it?”

“I… I love it, but I can’t explain why.” He could smell hints of salt as Hinoka blinked rapidly.

It drew a low hum out of him, before he said, “I built this nest for you.” The fabric of her long skirts bunched as he stroked the round of her belly. “Both of you.”

Her hands caught his and she looked at him with dewy eyes. “Don’t forget yourself, Marx. You’re part of this family.”

Seized by a sudden recklessness— Marx leaned forward and caught Hinoka’s mouth with his. It was unbelievable how much he wanted to stay close to her. No matter that most of their days were spent side by side. He seemed to have a similar effect on her, she always reached to touch whenever he was near.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he asked, “Would you… lay with me, in the nest?”

Hinoka’s eyelids fluttered as she nodded. She permitted him to set her onto the bed and arrange her in the nest, and visibly relaxing once nestled inside. Despite the sight causing his stomach to curl tight, he hiked up the white fabric just enough to expose her feet and took care removing the silk slippers. He then pressed his thumb to the inner arch of her foot and heel, gently massaging. He coaxed little moans and breathy sighs from her which wound him all the tighter.

By the time he’d reached her second ankle, it seemed she’d reached her own limit. Hinoka demanded, “Marx, enough! Get in here.”

As he sat and reached for his own footwear, Marx noticed his own hands were shaking. Shoes removed, he finally climbed into the nest beside Hinoka and gathered her against himself. He felt the tension unwinding immediately. It was wonderful, not only the closeness but how she was filling it with her scent, mixing with his own.

As Marx tucked himself around his bondmate he couldn't help but compare the current soft fullness of her frame to how she'd felt when they’d first met. As he snuffled at her, his hands began to trace every inch of her form— once lean and muscled, now full and plush. Her small breasts with rosy peaks had grown heavy and darkened, concealed by the silk of the gown. Even through the fabric he could feel how the span of her slim hips had widened. No longer could he touch his fingers together at the small of her waist, but instead sometimes felt the fluttery movement of their child.

He brushed her vividly red hair aside and kissed at her temple. Hinoka curled into him in response, welcoming each touch with sounds of affirmation and Marx felt something inside himself thrum in delight. She nudged one of her legs under his, her foot hooked around the back of his calf. Her hands touched along his back, up his flanks and onto his chest, until her palms rested over the thump of his heartbeat. It had him humming in total contentment, almost in a melody.

Marx hummed against her cheek as she cupped his face alongside hers, and wallowed in the freely given affection. Hinoka gave an almost a silent croon, a rare sound from her so he cherished it all the more. He kissed her face. Her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids.

His own hand had taken to running up and down her arm, fingers caressing from her elbow to her wrist and back again. She caught it with her own hand and twined his fingers through hers, Marx’s heart ached at the intimacy of the gesture. When their fingers were laced together Hinoka tilted her head and touched her lips to his. He returned the kiss, kept it slow. He clutched her hand to his while he kissed her, feeling her fingers squeeze as he drew more sighs and moans from her.

They lay like that in the nest for a long, contended while. Just touching, kissing, belonging. As easy as breathing.

Covered by contentment like a warm blanket, it took a second set of knocks at the door to draw their attention away from each other. Hinoka huffed at the interruption, but untangled their clinging limbs and bid Marx answer the door. He would’ve rather return to the task at hand, perhaps move onto shedding the clothing that kept them apart… but instead he left the nest and forced himself to answer the door.

The appearance of the person revealed when Marx opened it took him by surprise. A softly rounded face, nose that tapered with a gentle slope, sweetly curved eyes, rosebud lips— all features like ones he’d just been kissing. When the woman’s gaze fell to look at the floor it drew his attention to how her eyes were a different color than Hinoka’s, not a bright amber but a brown without any flecks of copper or gold. Her skin too had a deeper tan compared to his bondmate, with careworn lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. The woman’s hair was paler shade of red, with strands that fell long enough to reach her knees.

Only a moment after taking the visual differences in, did her scent reach him. No spicy musk, but instead a delicate fragrance like spun sugar that could only belong to an Omega. He couldn’t miss how her smell also brimmed with nervousness.

Suddenly it came to him. He’d seen her dainty form obscured in the countless layers of the extravagant Hoshidan robes before, standing in the audience far behind Hoshido’s king and queen. He hadn’t paid her particular attention during the ceremony, but now with this closer look the resemblance was undeniable— this was Hinoka’s blood mother, Sumeragi’s Omega bondmate. The one he’d expressly requested attend their bonding ceremony.

A rush of satisfaction over her presence rushed through Marx, and he had to resist the urge to turn around to tell Hinoka. Only belatedly did he noticed that the woman had stood before him silent with eyes downcast the entire time. The realization furrowed his brow.

Keeping his voice even, Marx asked, “Lady Ikona, I presume? Is there something that you needed?”

"A thous'nd pard'ns, yer highn’ss." She replied, accent thick and tone faintly distressed. "I jus' came t' congrat'late the happy bond'd.

It seemed she’d been waiting to be addressed, and even as Ikona spoke her gaze did not lift to meet his own. Marx only knew half-informed facts about the life of Omegas in Hoshido nowadays; he better understood the archaic practices of the kingdom’s ancient history which had once made them an enemy of Nohr. In that moment, however, the two did not seem so far apart. Marx was struck by the irrational urge to tuck her someplace warm and safe, which he'd only felt towards his family members and Hinoka before.

His voice was gentler as he asked, “Would you like to extend your congratulations to my bondmate personally?”

Barely looking up Ikona nodded, her scent flooded with a jumble of emotions.

Marx shifted so that he no long blocked the view to his bed and the nest. The way Ikona peered past him from under her eyelashes at Hinoka, her heart clearly close to breaking from longing, had Marx opening the door wider and stepping back. He met his bondmate’s gaze and asked, “Hinoka, your mother’s here. Would it be alright for her to come in and talk for a while?”

Hinoka blinked and she sat up further within the nest. He watched as she nibbled at her lower lip, before she gave a careful smile. “I… I’d be fine with that if you are, Marx.”

When Marx turned back he found the Hoshidan Omega was finally looking him in the face, her expression one of shock. Those brown eyes flicked from him to his bondmate and then she shakily said, "Hinoka, I-I-" Abruptly Ikona curled in on herself and hid her face behind her hands. Tears slipped out between her fingers. "Th-thank ya."