Castles in the Sky

Ache

Mature content! 🔞
Also very brief mention of thoughts of self harm.

A/N: One last quick chapter and then on to weekly (weekend) updates. Just for info - this isn't set in a particular historical time period, more of a fantasy era that borrows elements from many! The setup of the alpha/beta/omega dynamics will become clearer over the next few chapters too. Hope you enjoyyy!

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Mew dreamt that he was a boy again, chasing a figure in flowing, white cotton dress through the palace's sun-marbled gardens.

"Mewieeeee", his mother's voice echoed back to him on a caressing breeze. But the faster he tried to run, the further away she drifted, until "Mama, Mamaaaaaa" was just another unanswered cry, small child collapsing breathless to his knees, at the foot of Pegasus' fountain.

'If only I could fly'

//

The King startled awake with cheeks damp - but the writhing sweats of rut had waned at last.

Day upon gruelling day spent locked in the lighthouse tower, fists bloodied and bruised from pounding at walls, wooden table and chairs broken by force of lustful fury, to lie slaughtered and silent upon the boarded floor.

At the peak of fever he had climbed to the ladder's top and teetered on the tower's tip at midnight, arms spread and ready to leap out amongst gliding seabirds - anything, anything, to be free from the scent that tormented his nostrils and maddening mind.

Spring blossom. Delicate, shell pinks and pearly white, fresh budding green, all ready, waiting, waiting to bloom. Like the serene, secluded row of trees that framed royal ornamental orchard. It was...yes, cherry blossom.

And the trembling, muscular man fell back, howling, against the lighthouse wall, twisting in torture to confront - dreaming it to be one of those very trees. Rubbing himself against trunk, pulling the sweet flowers in to nuzzle and lick and bite at laced, cerise-dipped opal petals. He wanted to consume it and to be consumed all at once: Grinding and thrusting and rutting painfully against rough stone that wasn't stone to his mind of fog and fantasy...

King Solaris' manservants had presented hundreds-strong harems of eager lovers, but all dismissed without so much as an acknowledging glance.

They couldn't rid him of this unquenchable, aching thirst - however many tight holes he fucked - it was only the blossom that he craved, as he came with a strangled moan, beneath the stars.

Climax after hollow climax, never sated or soothed, until his cock grazed red raw and he fell, exhausted, where he stood, into the bosom of nightmare's fitful slumber.

...But now, at long last, a clear-skied head atop his storm-weary body, easing and stretching awake. Readying, then, to return to the palace and his throne - just in time for a party.

//

Mile looked good, and well he knew it, discarding his forest green velvet suit jacket to a chorus of squeals and fluttering fans. The palace celebration - a harvest blessing - in full carousel: Music, candled chandeliers, wine free flowing past rouged lips to offer welcome merriment and flight.

After two weeks of best, bleached behaviour as Regent in the wake of his older brother's unexpected vanishing act, Lord Orion was ready to take a rear view in every sense.

He had locked his target: A coyly blushing, blonde omega with a group of Mongkul nobles. The face seemed vaguely familiar - perhaps they had fucked before? Idle query - but whatever, Mile was primed to pounce.