Lord Voldemort is a well-known alpha, famous because of his lust for power. Draco Malfoy, the son of one of the Dark Lord's followers: Lucius, is an omega. The Malfoy Lord, ashamed of a Omega son, has done everything in his power to keep his son's s...
Previously on When The Devil Falls - Nico turned around in Marvolo's arms, his expression shifting from excitement to concern as he noticed Draco's tears. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he reached out a small hand to gently wipe away the tears from his mother's cheek.
"Mama, why you sad?" Nico asked, his voice soft and filled with innocence as he gazed up at Draco with big, curious eyes.
Draco's heart swelled with emotion at his son's tender gesture, and he managed a watery smile despite the tears that continued to fall. "Oh, mon etoile," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "Mama's just happy to see papa, that's all. Mama missed him a lot"
Nico tilted his head to the side, studying Draco's face with a mixture of concern and understanding beyond his years. "Happy tears?" he asked, his tone hopeful as he sought reassurance from his mother.
Draco nodded, his smile widening as he wrapped his arms around Nico in a tight embrace. "Yes, my darling. Happy tears," he affirmed, pressing a kiss to the top of Nico's head.
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Draco gently cradled Nico in his arms, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he held his son close. With a silent nod to Marvolo, he apparated back home with Rabastian, the familiar sensation of magic coursing through him as they vanished from Grimmauld Place.
Arriving back at the safety of their home, Draco set Nico down in his favourite chair at the kitchen table and prepared a small meal for him, consisting of colourful fruits and bite-sized sandwiches. As Nico happily indulged in his meal, Draco watched him with a mixture of love and gratitude.
Once Nico had finished eating, Draco carried him upstairs to his bedroom, tucking him in with gentle hands. "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Nico's face before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Nico's forehead. Draco then dimmed the lights and quietly left the room.
Draco's heart skipped a beat as he stepped into his room, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily upon him. With a weary sigh, he sank down onto the edge of the bed, his mind reeling with thoughts of the ordeal they had just endured.
Draco's heart skipped a beat as he heard the familiar sound of apparition, and he looked up to see Marvolo standing before him. But what he saw sent a shiver down his spine and froze him in place.
Marvolo was drenched in blood, his once impeccable robes now stained a dark crimson hue. The blood-soaked through the fabric, pooling around his feet in macabre puddles. His hair, usually sleek and perfectly styled, was now matted with blood, strands sticking to his forehead and dripping down his neck. His face, once a picture of stoic composure, was now splattered with blood, streaks of red painting a gruesome portrait.
