Nature of an Omega
@wanderingblade
Draven was not a good Omega by natural standards. Let us get this straight right now. He even displayed himself as an Alpha to keep the taboo of his demeanor from interfering with his work. Nobody wanted to get cut down by someone lesser than them. The only soul that knew his true nature was his brother and that was an Alpha that Draven followed, the only human he was subordinate to. Draven liked keeping it this way. He liked not being looked down on and he liked being able to act as an Alpha.
He played his role almost too well and his natural forgetfulness made taking his heat suppressing medication even harder. Long distance missions also made things harder for him. If not just the distance from his Alpha then because he almost never remembers to bring his suppressants with him. This just so happens to be one of those missions. Deep into Ionia on a solo mission is exactly when he wants to have his heat. Sarcasm is heavily implied.
This sucks.
He can feel it in his lower back before the Alphas smell it. At first, he wants to panic, the bitch instincts in his DNA force the latent fear into his body, but it’s not long after the pains begin that he drops his objective. Rather than tucking himself into his hotel room and not leaving he takes the initiative to leave the town entirely. He would be damned if he let the world know that Draven was actually an Omega.
Draven is well into his heat by the time he gives up on putting more distance between him and civilization. He has to stop, leaning against a tree and allowing deep ragged breaths to fall from his lips. He has long since pulled his circlet off and any gel in his hair has lost its hold with how many times he has run his fingers through it. His golden eyes scan the area before he puts his back to the thick trunk of the tree and allows himself to fall into a sit. His legs had basically become jelly under him and he can no longer keep himself from touching. Fingers press against the seat of his pants, a blush coming across his cheeks as he pulls his hand back to find he has all but soaked through them with slick.
There is a noise to his left that stops his fingers from pulling at his belt. This noise brings a growl from his throat, personalities clashing in his mind as the Alpha he created for the world roars at the intruder. The natural cast that Draven holds, on the other hand, whimpers. It’s a deep sound in his chest because the scent that flows from the direction of the noise is decidedly Alpha. It’s all Draven can do to contain himself.
