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Byleth is sure she is dead.
Of her life, she only remembers bits and pieces. A classroom full of blurry faces, despair over losing someone she loved but can’t name, and the vague, smoky stench of war. Then everything went black.
Looking up at the ragged cliff, she knows she should have died. No ordinary person could survive that fall, but then again, she wasn’t ordinary- though she had no idea why.
Not long after she gathers her remaining strength and sits herself up in the shallow water, a handsome young man, clad in bloodied armor and blonde hair and smelling of a chamomile and spruce musk, approaches. Her mind is at first wary of the scent of an alpha, but when she saw his relieved face, she was grateful that he seemed to know more about her than she did.
“Professor?!” he exclaims, rushing to pull her out of the water as though she weighed nothing. “You’re alive! Thank the goddess, you’re alive!”
Byleth’s lungs burn with the first gulp of oxygen in days. The stranger pats her back affectionately, aiding in the removal of sludge from her throat.
“Professor…that makes sense,” her voice is hoarse and unrecognizable. “That’s why I kept dreaming of a classroom. Who are you?”
Hurt flashes over the man’s face, gone as quickly as it came.
“I…it’s me, Dimitri. Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”
His pained words make her heart crumple. She is supposed to know him.
Her body suddenly feels chilled, obviously just realizing how damp it was, and she can’t help but shiver. Dimitri picks her up the moment he notices and carries her bridal style to the bank. His cloak wraps snugly around her shoulders, its soft weight adding to the feeling of exhaustion.
“All I can remember is falling. Everything before that is…blurry,” Byleth speaks slowly. “Are you my student?”
Dimitri simply looks at her for a moment, a mix of emotions rolling like storm clouds behind his eyes, as though he’s contemplating what to say. She takes the respite to study his features; despite the wear and tear of a clouded battle, he stands out like the sun with kind eyes and full lips, and cheekbones that could cut glass.
He’s beautiful.
Dimitri rises with Byleth in his arms, long legs stretching further and further away from the river with each step.
“Yes, I am your student. Or was. I do not think that the academy will resume classes for some time...”
He continues to explain her past, how she came to Garreg Mach Monastery with her late father as an omega mercenary and was thrust into a professorship. He recounts how she chose his class, The Blue Lions, to lead and formed strong bonds with each of her students.
How the war started with no end in sight.
“But you and I are different,” he says in an innocent tone, looking at her with such adoration that it pulls at her heartstrings, “we’re…closer to one another than we are with anyone else.”
Dimitri’s words confuse her, but she’s too tired to press further at the moment. In what feels like a haze, she’s carefully placed atop a horse behind his frame, holding on to his waist in a death grip and falling fast asleep before the first trot away from the river.
***
She wakes to warm sunlight and a bundle of soft quilts in a room so unrecognizable that it doesn’t even spark a sliver of memory.
It’s regal, with dark blue and silver trimmings and matching furniture to boot. Large oval windows adorn every wall, their curtains blowing gently in the cold breeze. Byleth would’ve thought the idea of open windows in the dead of winter to be crazy, but the way it counters the roaring fire that heats the room a little too well creates a comfortable atmosphere.
It’s heaven compared to the river.
A knock at the door interrupts her thoughts, prompting her to wrap her very exposed figure ( wait, what happened to her clothes? ) in a blanket and hurry to the entrance, eager to figure out where exactly in Fódlan she was.
Dimitri greets her on the other side, smiling warmly and holding a heavy rucksack and a stocked tea tray like feathers in his hands. The same chamomile and spruce aroma hits her nostrils, this time stronger, sending a curiously pleasant sensation down her spine.
“I’m so happy you’re awake, Professor. May I come in?” he asks politely.
“Of course, Dimitri,” she responds in kind, moving to a chaise lounge with him in tow. “I’ve been trying to figure out where we are exactly.”
Dimitri sets the bag down on the bed before sitting next to Byleth and handing her a hot cup, his fingers lightly tracing hers and humming contentedly when the contact causes another shiver.
“Fhirdiad, the Kingdom's capital. You’re staying in my castle, so please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable.”
His castle?
“It’s already comfortable enough, but thank you,” she starts with a reassuring smile. “I’m afraid my memories are still scarce, so I apologize for asking obvious questions, but when you say your castle…”
He gives a warm chuckle.
“Ah, no need to apologize. I mean that as king, I must ensure my guests are well taken care of-“
“You’re king?” Byleth cuts him off with a sputter of tea.
“Only as of yesterday,” he laughs softly before dabbing a handkerchief over her mouth. “And there’s no need to refer to me as anything other than my name.”
He pours more chamomile into her cup gracefully.
“Drink. It’ll help you stay warm in this climate. Winters here are not to be taken lightly.”
She nods sheepishly and obeys, reveling in the warm clover notes that travel down her throat. It, in fact, does make her feel warm, almost as though she’s sipping on liquor instead. A wave of sleepiness washes over her, and she can’t help but rest her head on his shoulder. It’s probably inappropriate to do so, and something in her brain screams at her that she shouldn’t be touching a stranger like this.
“We’re…closer to one another than we are with anyone else.” The rising warmth in her body spurs on the memory of his words from the river. If they were close at the monastery, then this proximity is probably not unusual.
That makes sense, right?
“When did we arrive?” she questions, allowing her eyes to shut as she listens to the soothing rhythm of his heart.
Dimitri inhales her hair deeply, as though he’s been waiting eons to do so.
“Five days ago. You’ve been resting, and quite frankly, you need to keep doing so. Your crest took care of most injuries, but you’re still weak. The healers said it may take months before you can get back on your feet.”
Byleth jumps up at that, panic replacing drowsiness in an instant.
“Months? But we’re at war! I may not remember much, but I remember fighting. There has to be a way-“
Dimitri catches her arm and pulls her into his lap, enveloping her in a soothing hug.
“If you were to fight now, you could delay your recovery by years, Professor. Reopening any wounds could be lethal- I cannot allow that to happen.” His voice is filled with emotion.
Byleth hates the idea of not being useful, of sitting around while others die in a war that somehow involves her. But deep down she knows that Dimitri is right- her body and mind are still sore, and it seems as though every minute she’s awake is a minute closer to needing more sleep. How could she be of use with one foot in the grave?
“I understand,” she sighs, allowing his calming weight to swallow up the majority of her anxiety. “I’d be nothing but a hindrance trying to fight like this.”
Dimitri smooths the hair on her nape like he’s handling a small animal, two fingers stroking her glands so intoxicatingly gentle. Her eyes grow heavy once more, surrendering to a blissful state of nothingness until the world around her consists only of his smell and touch.
“Rest now, Beloved…” he whispers with what feels like a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”
***
Dimitri hasn’t visited in days.
A note on the door explains that both the Kingdom and Seiros troops are headed to a battle on the outskirts of the western region, with the intent of squashing the rebellion there for good.
Byleth can’t shake the feeling of restlessness as she paces, wishing desperately that her body was healed enough to join forces. Her days have been monotonous- for now she’s required to shelter in her quarters, unable to do anything but sleep, eat, read, drink tea, and pace. The windows are her only view of the outside world, the hills and rivers frozen with snow. She longs to feel the coolness of ice against her skin, which has strangely become hotter and hotter with every setting of the sun.
The nights are when it gets worse.
Like clockwork, she wakes at midnight in a sweaty haze, panting as though she’s exerted herself just by sleeping. Slick oozes out from between her thighs, and she knows she’s in heat, but the recurring intensity of it each night is perplexing. Her mind wanders to Dimitri during these hours, of his fingers and tongue and cock stuffing her, and although she’s horrified by the lewd thoughts of her former student and man she hardly remembers, it feels right to imagine him claiming her.
The only way Byleth can find some kind of release from those thoughts is to frantically grind against a pillow. It’s near unsatisfactory, nothing compared to what she can only imagine sex feels like, but it’s enough to quell her animal brain from going overboard.
Two weeks pass before she receives a visitor.
She rushes to the door, hoping to Sothis it’s Dimitri, and is mildly disappointed when a tall, ethereal-looking woman with mint hair like her own smiles at her instead.
“What a blessing it is to have you back with us, child,” the woman says, clasping Byleth’s hands in hers, and places them under her chin as though she’s praying. “It seems as though the goddess herself led you back to the light.”
Byleth tilts her head in confusion.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I follow…”
The woman’s eyes look pained for a moment as realization hits.
“Oh, I apologize. I was so overcome with joy that I forgot about your lapse in memory…” she sighs as she lets herself in the room, setting down a teapot on the table that seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I am Rhea, the archbishop of Garreg Mach.”
Byleth bows clumsily, unsure how to welcome one of the most important figures in Fódlan into her cramped living space.
Rhea shakes her head kindly before motioning for the mercenary to sit beside her, simultaneously pouring a cup of familiar tea. Byleth can smell the woman’s aroma of honey and ancient magic, knowing instantly that she may be sitting face to face with the oldest omega of this world.
“You must have questions. Please, ask me anything,” Rhea speaks gently, her voice as smooth as velvet.
Byleth begins to ramble like a broken dam, asking about her family, her history as a mercenary, and her time at the monastery. Rhea answers them all, explaining her past like she was there for every minute, similar to how a grandmother would talk to their young family members. She’s patient with Byleth’s memory loss, never scolding or bored with repeating the obvious.
It brings her guard down enough to share her most recent afflictions.
“I believe I’ve been going into heat each night. Probably my body just messed up from the fall. Are there suppressants I can take, perhaps?”
Rhea finishes her tea and begins to shake her head slowly.
“Unfortunately, my dear, this forsaken war has caused a shortage of supplies, with suppressants arriving in such little amounts that they are used as quickly as they come,” the archbishop sighs, moving her hands over Byleth’s once more. “However, your heats should not be so frequent. They can become deadly if left untreated.”
Byleth blanks for a moment, palms sweating within Rhea’s grasp.
“But…if there’s no suppressants, how am I supposed to treat it?”
Rhea practically shoves another full teacup in front of the former professor’s mouth.
“By mating, of course.”
***
Dimitri cannot tell the difference between the living and the dead.
He hasn’t been able to for a while now, but standing in the scorched plains of the Western Church that are littered with dozens of noble bodies make the ghosts in his head louder, causing the line to blur even more than usual.
“Look at them. Carcasses of your people, our people, killed by the orders you gave. How can you live with yourself?” his father spats at him, tone dripping with acid.
“You made Felix kill his own? My brother, sworn to protect every citizen across this land, taking orders from a savage boar? He’ll be glad when you eventually get yourself killed.” Glenn chides, every syllable of his words digging into Dimitri’s flesh like ice.
“No, no, no,” the king begs as the world around him begins to spin, the scent of sulfur and smoke bringing up unwanted memories of Duscur. “These people turned their backs on their kingdom. They agreed to the suffering of their villagers while they basked in the riches of imperial deceit.”
He doesn’t know why he’s trying to level with the ghosts. They never listen.
“Keep telling yourself that, son. One day your conscience will catch up with you, but not until you deliver her head to us…” Lambert scolds before disappearing back into the depths of his mind.
“I will, Father. This is all her doing…the bloody war, the endless casualties. She will pay for everything she has done, including…”
Dimitri thinks of Byleth then. His Byleth. An amnesiac, alone and worried, at the castle a hundred miles away.
Glenn snickers.
“ I wonder if your dear professor has figured everything out yet. She’ll probably run. How wonderful it would be to watch you return to an empty room, with no promise of the love you almost had. You would deserve it-“
“Enough!” Dimitri growls. “You will not speak of her. She is alive and breathing and mine -“
“Your Highness?” a voice calls through his mania, one that is clear and full of life.
The king turns to find his retainer waiting patiently, the same stern and understanding look plastered on his face that he’s been wearing for years.
“The last body has been collected. Sylvain is escorting a mage from the village to do the burning…” Dedue looks down at his feet momentarily. “Annette did not want to do it.”
Dimitri nods in sympathy, trying his best to push Glenn’s mockery out of his head.
“That is understandable, given that some Dominic nobles were part of the revolt.”
“Precisely,” Dedue begins to lead Dimitri toward the remnants of a stable where their horses are stationed. “We’ve also received word from Fhirdiad. The professor is doing well, however…”
“However, what?!” Dimitri snaps before lowering his voice. “Have her memories come back?”
Dedue readies their saddles and shakes his head.
“No. The archbishop has been visiting with her, and wanted to inform you that Byleth is in heat.”
***
It should’ve taken them days to ride back to Fhirdiad, but Dimitri was like a madman atop his steed, galloping fast enough to reach the castle in a little over 24 hours.
He was headed straight to Byleth’s quarters when a dainty hand caught his cloak.
“I’m glad to see you back in one piece, Your Majesty,” Flayn gives a quick bow before dragging him into the library. “But I’m afraid you must wait to see her.
A low growl escapes his throat, and it takes all of his restraint to ignore the command and not knock the small woman over instead.
“May I ask why?” he can feel the vein in his forehead throb as he speaks.
Flayn fiddles with the pages of a book.
“She will be at the peak of her heat in just a few hours. Both mind and soul are easily influenced at that time- in order for our plan to work, she needs to be at her most vulnerable.”
Dimitri’s jaw tightens at that.
“She has a name,” he enunciates coldly. “And she is not just a tool to be sharpened. If you still hold a grudge that makes you unable to speak of her respectfully, then I suggest you leave my castle at once.”
“That won’t be necessary, Your Highness,” Seteth strides into the room then and stands protectively in front of his sister. “It will take some time for Flayn to trust Professor Eisner again. She does not mean to be disrespectful.”
The small woman nods eagerly.
“Indeed, my apologies, Your Majesty. I must do a better job at remembering what Rhea told us…”
The king curls an eyebrow suspiciously.
“Which is…?”
Seteth interrupts his sister as she opens her mouth to reply.
“That Byleth was brainwashed and manipulated by lies. Her grief and sheltered views of the world were taken advantage of. We must not focus on her sins, as the Goddess has already forgiven her.”
Ever the unbeliever, Dimitri can hardly hold back his laugh.
“She doesn’t need your forgiveness, nor the Goddess’s. It wasn’t divine intervention that saved her. It was me ,” he seethes. “She was taken advantage of, yes. But you will do well to remember that above all else, she is mine- not a weapon for you to use.”
Both Flayn and Seteth are momentarily stunned before bowing.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Flayn says nervously. “But I must advise you to wait until nightfall. I assure you that she will be more than willing to officially become yours.”
Despite his aggravation, he knows her words to be true. He lacks the energy to reply and leaves the room in a trail of torn books.
***
Rhea offered to find a mating partner in the meantime, to which Byleth vehemently refused. Deep down, they both understood that it had to be Dimitri.
She knows it to be true when he returns nearly two months later.
Byleth can smell his arrival, and it takes all of her restraint not to claw down the door and find him. Time without him has been agony, even though a small part of her consciousness found her longing for the man strange. Whatever that rational voice tries to tell her falls flat on deaf ears, however, for each lonely night she has spent has been barely manageable thanks to mere thoughts of his presence.
They must have been close before. No other explanation makes sense- how else could she have such strong feelings for him? How else could she need him so badly? She wants to know their past, wants to hear of every moment, big and small, directly from his lips.
Byleth’s pacing becomes fervent as the afternoon wanes, and she decides to distract herself with a bath. It’s become a daily ritual to stare at herself in the mirror once she removes her small clothes, taking in every scar and bump as though they’ll bring back any memories. She isn’t surprised to see the glittering sheen of sweat stick to her skin, a warning of her impending heat, so she runs the water cool enough to take the breath away when she submerges herself.
And waits.
The sun begins to set before he makes himself known. To Byleth’s surprise, no knock sounds from outside her door. All she hears instead is the sound of pounding on stone, the scraping becoming louder with each strike until the glass of her balcony door shakes with anticipation. She means to get dressed, to cover herself with any shred of clothing or dignity, but isn’t fast enough thanks to her heat-muddled mind, and resorts to pressing herself up against the rim of the tub instead.
The balcony door opens and shuts forcefully. Dimitri practically growls at the sight of her not in bed, but when she splashes the water gently to let him know she’s there, he sighs with relief.
“Byleth?” his voice is hoarse, raw from both war and something else. “Are you alright?”
Her name falling off his tongue sends a shiver down her spine.
“Yes…in the bath. One moment, I’ll be out shortly.”
Byleth musters up what strength she has left and stands, letting the water slosh and drip on the floor. All she needs to do is dress herself and seem semi-presentable-
Shit.
He must not have heard her before, because the moment she turns to find a robe, he’s standing directly under the archway of the washroom entrance. Hair a bit longer and scruffier, his features are unreadable until Byleth tries to cover her breasts with a hand, squishing them together instead. The darkness of lust and longing washes over him instantly, scent now flaring with spice and causing the need between her legs to be painful.
Dimitri inhales deeply before speaking.
“You’re…in heat?”
Byleth nods furiously.
“Every night since you left.”
Her words stun him, pain briefly replacing lust.
“I’m so sorry, Professor. I tried to return sooner, and when I finally did, every person in the castle seemed to have immediate business to discuss. I was so eager to see you, I didn’t mean to break the doorknob-“
Shards of glass and rubble paint his knuckles, and Byleth momentarily forgets her lack of clothes and rushes to his side.
“You climbed up here? That was what I heard?”
Dimitri’s chest begins to heave at her proximity. He runs a shaky finger through her wet strands and takes a deep breath.
“Y-yes,” he gulps as she sends a wave a white magic to his hand, knitting the wounds together in an instant. “But enough about me. How can I help?”
Byleth meets his gaze, taking in the way he looks at her like she’s the sun after days of rain with pride. A surge of boldness overcomes her as she presses a light kiss to his knuckles, causing the king to gasp.
“You said we were close,” she starts, voice heavy and almost slurred. “Were we…together?”
His eyes flutter shut at the contact as he nods.
“Yes. In secret, due to the nature of our positions. Do you remember now?” A hint of nervousness traces his tone.
“I don’t remember, but I think I can feel it. Everything is so warm and right when I think of you. Dimitri…” An almost whine escapes her throat. “I need you.”
Time feels as though it stops as Byleth is suddenly lifted in the air, two hands cupping her ass roughly. Their lips are a molded mess of saliva, tongues twisting together like a dance. Something hard presses against her core as she wraps her legs around his waist, and she’s unable to stop the moan that comes with it.
Dimitri carries her to the bed gracefully despite their near feral behavior. He sheds his armor quickly, the heavy pauldrons falling to the floor while his furs land on the sheets. The scent of his cloak next to her is intoxicating, and Byleth can’t stop herself from mindlessly rubbing against it.
He chokes out a strangled sound at the sight, their moans syncing in a hazy rhythm. For a while, he simply watches her stuff his furs in between her legs, chasing a high that she cannot reach without him, and the sight draws his cock out beneath his pants even harder and longer than it was before.
“To see you this undone…for me…gods, Byleth,” Dimitri pants, eyes roaming wildly over her bare body. “Have you touched yourself like this every night?”
Byleth can hardly register his words until he asks again, his voice reverberating within her mind like he asked telepathically.
“Ye…yes. You’re all I…ahh…think about. All I dream about…please,” Byleth barely makes out, pleading like she’s begging for her life. “Touch me.”
Another growl escapes Dimitri as he plunges onto her and assaults her lips with kisses and bites. She can taste the tang of blood as his hound teeth sink into her bottom lip, then soothes over the puncture with his tongue. She returns the ferocity, her core practically on fire and bursting into flames of need when he trails a hand down her abdomen. His knuckles brush over her clit, sending jolts of electricity through every vein and artery; her body practically convulsing from just a touch.
“You are soaking,” Dimitri whispers into her neck, hot breath tickling her glands. “Completely sodden. Just for me.”
Two thick fingers work their way into her sex, stretching her walls deliciously and eliciting a long moan from her throat.
“Only f…f-for you…” Byleth whines as he slowly pumps a third finger and roams his tongue between her breasts.
His mouth clutches onto one of the perked nipples, suckling and swirling like he’s tasting a dessert. The smells engulfing the room are divine- a mixture of her lavender and his cedar washing over them like an aphrodisiac. It makes her head spin, and she feels as though she’s falling into the ravine again, only this time knowing that someone is there to catch her.
Dimitri. It’s always been Dimitri.
Liar.
She ignores that subconscious voice that tries to raise her hackles, focusing instead on the feeling of having him on top of her. Of his fingers, his tongue, his mouth on all of the places she has only been able to dream of.
“More…Dima…please…” Byleth pants into his hair, trying her hardest to grasp at his length. He pulls away swiftly, leaving her sex empty and dripping, and causing her to curse.
“Patience, Beloved,” Dimitri chuckles gently as his mouth travels down her abdomen. It tickles when he reaches her thighs and makes her squirm, so he pins down both legs, spreading her open and waiting.
He inhales, greedily, before diving in. His tongue swipes up, lapping at her ripe slick like its ambrosia. Byleth is chanting now, whether strings of curses or choruses, she does not know. All she knows is that she is finally, finally, being consumed. Teeth graze her clit and she bucks into his face while holding his hair taut in one hand. He moans at the tension; at her fingertips grazing his scalp and the coiling of her walls that begin to close around his tongue.
Byleth practically screams as she comes while repeating his name over and over again like a prayer. Water wells in her eyes as she glances down at Dimitri, debased and slowly pumping himself into his palm. She growls at the sight and uses her regained strength to pin herself on top of him.
“I have had to be patient for months.” Her voice is unrecognizable, almost dangerous. “Now that I have you, I deserve to be greedy.”
She smacks his hand out of the way, replacing it with her own as she gives two long, slow pumps. Dimitri throws his head back and whimpers, unable to make eye contact when she replaces her hands with her tits, his blush reminiscent of a shy schoolboy.
“Look at me, Dimitri…” Byleth commands like a soldier, breasts rocking up and down along his shaft. “Do you know how much I have thought about doing this? I have spent hours trying to find relief, of fucking the same pillow you now lie on, and thinking of you instead.”
The king moans again, this time swiping the pillow from under his head and pressing his nose into it.
“Gods, your scent…” he whines before giving the fabric a long lick. “You deserve everything. Take everything from me- I am yours. I always have been. Even when-”
He stops himself there, perplexing Byleth for a moment before something between her chest begins to swell.
His knot.
“I…I’m going to…” he can hardly form coherent words.
“I know, my heart, I know,” Byleth soothes as she continues her ministrations, enough to coat her breasts with his seed in seconds. From between the fan of her wild bangs, she spies a small smile etched across his face, mouthing the words “my heart” over and over again. She smoothes a finger over her nipple before sucking the fluid clean off.
It tastes earthy. It tastes like home, like right.
Wrong.
A twinge surges through her core, the smell of his spend bringing her heat to an all-time high. She ignores the nagging voice and flips onto her stomach, back arching high enough to raise her ass in front of Dimitri’s face.
Presenting, just for him.
“I need you, inside…” she begs like a dog under a dining table. “Please…”
The sound of unbuckling rings through the room, followed by large hands that grab her waist just right. Dimitri prods at her entrance, sending a delectable wave of pleasure through her veins.
“Are you certain?” he asks while he hovers the tip barely an inch through her walls. “I won’t be able to control myself once I’m within you. I will mark you, Byleth, as my mate. So again, are you sure?”
That uncertain voice tries its best to claw at her, to tell her that what she’s about to do is wrong. Try as she might to listen to it, she cannot find the truth behind the anxiety. Her memories may be gone, but she remembers who met her at the bottom of that canyon, who pulled her to the surface and gave her shelter and warmth after days of darkness and cold.
It’s always been him. She’s certain of it.
“Yes, Dimitri,” she cries into the sheets. “I am more than sure. Make me yours, please.”
A groan escapes his lips as he pushes into her, his knot molding her sex to fit him perfectly. It’s utter bliss- the closest thing she has felt to heaven despite death almost taking her months ago. Dimitri lifts her to sit atop him, back flush against his chest. He kisses the tears off of her face, and she nuzzles into him, craving to be even closer.
“You are mine. My beloved…my mate…” he whispers into her ear, sending goosebumps down her arms. His knot expands even more, threatening to burst any minute as he pounds into her.
“Yes…yes. And you, ahh…” Byleth reaches behind her to pull at his hair the way he liked before. “Are mine.”
Those words seem to be his undoing as he gushes inside of her- so much seed that drips down her thighs in thick rivulets. A sharp pain turns to pleasure when his teeth sink into her neck, saliva entering her bloodstream in seconds.
Every worry, every trepidation she has felt since coming to the castle vanishes, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of her mate. Nothing matters, not even the war, as his presence soothes her being, sending waves of both comfort and pleasure through her body, mind, and soul.
Dimitri hangs his head over his shoulders, cocking it wide enough to bring his throat close to her lips. She licks at it first before returning the bite, canines digging into the tender flesh delicately. The act alone causes another surge of seed to coat her insides, hitting her most sensitive spot and inducing multiple orgasms of her own.
“Dimitri…” Byleth pants as she slumps back into him, allowing him to cradle her into his chest as they lie. “My mate… I love you.”
She tilts his chin down, forcing him to meet her eyes, and kisses his lips with a newfound passion. The king smiles against her lips, wetness trailing down his cheeks. She manages to catch each drop on her tongue, reveling in the sweet, salty taste.
“I love you, Byleth. I always have,” he says simply while lazily stroking her hair. “And I always will.”
The couple falls into a blissful sleep, both dreaming of soft colors and light as the weight of the world is lifted by the comfort of their other half.
***
Dimitri wakes first, hardly able to believe that Byleth is nestled beside him, fast asleep. She’s heartbreakingly beautiful, mint hair plastered to her face and glowing in the moonlight. The curves of her body fit him like a glove, and it takes everything in him not to wake her with a flurry of kisses.
Thirst eventually beckons him out of bed, his throat raw and parched. He realizes as he walks to the kitchens that they’ll need to move Byleth to his quarters first thing in the morning- the thought of being separated from his mate even by a few feet set his teeth on edge. He’ll have Annette or Mercedes do so, as even a trusted friend like Dedue would raise his hackles- another alpha being near her so soon could send him into bloodlust.
Dimitri opens the icebox and grabs a fresh glass of milk. He sits on the counter for a while, staring up at the tower where his beloved sleeps, unable to hide his smile. How can someone as ravaged as he deserve such happiness? He has loved her since the moment he set eyes on her, and has loved her despite her choosing a different class to lead. His mind wanders to the Black Eagles, then, of their belief that their professor is still dead at the bottom of the river, and an overwhelming sense of dread creeps up his spine, replacing his smile with a frown.
Byleth was taken advantage of by Edelgard’s deceit. Was he just as guilty, lying to her about her past?
“No, Your Majesty,” a smooth voice breaks the spell of his anxiety, and he looks up to meet Rhea’s cool gaze. “Do not let yourself give in to those worries. You have done a great deed in showing Byleth the light- of returning her to us.”
If he wasn’t so tired, he would ask how in the hell she managed to read his mind, but he sighs in defeat instead.
“Trust me when I say that I am beyond happy to finally have her,” Dimitri says after gulping down the last bit of milk. “I just cannot help but feel guilt. She lost her memory, and instead of telling her the truth, we chose her path for her-“
“Enough,” Rhea interrupts, arms crossed defensively. “We did not cause her amnesia. We merely led her back on the right track. She is a Nabateean- the blood of my mother flows within her. She is my family. And now, your mate.”
His mate.
He had momentarily forgotten that part. Even if sin were to try and eat him away, it wouldn’t matter; Byleth belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. Mating bonds were permanent, irreversible. The monster inside of him purrs at that.
“The goddess herself has sewn your fates together. This was always her path. All I ask now is that you take care of her, and when the time comes, allow her to aid in your smiting of the one that tried to take her away from us…” Rhea bids him a goodnight at that and quietly leaves the kitchens.
He walks back up to the tower, back to the soothing presence of his beloved. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead as he melds their bodies together once more.
“Of course,” Dimitri whispers to himself, the quiet taunts of the ghosts threatening to spill over, along with the bubbling poison of possessiveness. He looks down at her peaceful face and smiles.
“Together, we will deliver her head.”