Page 3 of Ruined by His Alpha King (Reluctant Fae Princes #3)

Seidrik

Fifteen years prior

As a young boy, Seidrik had known that his father hated omegas.

He’d diligently waited to be of age to speak to the goddesses, to be a beta or an alpha and make his father proud.

So, when his insect wings and antlers had manifested one night while his mother chased him about the playroom, they both cried.

All this as Virion, still in his cradle, napped.

Lyrica, his mother, with hair like spun gold and eyes like strawblossoms, the same color as Virion’s, had wept for him.

She had been the daughter of an alpha and omega pair.

A rarity in a small fiefdom off the border of Croatens.

Alluin much the same, the child of a holy pairing, their only child before his omega father fell ill and died.

He’d always hated omegas, hated the father that left him so young, hated the weakness and preferential treatment of the holy genders. His reign had cemented it.

“You’re still a beta if nobody knows,” Lyrica had cried.

She helped him hide his little antlers, like sun elk.

His wings, like the jewelfly, had to be tucked away.

And in secret, every few days, his mother took him to a glade outside the palace to let them out.

There, he chased nymphs as they avoided his presence, laughed with him, and made crowns of silkdaisies.

They were wonderful days as she nursed Virion, and he grew.

Eventually Virion could not come with them, his words developing.

He’d be at risk of saying what he saw. Nobody but Lyrica could know.

And in time, Lyrica prayed to the goddess to make things right, to make Alluin see the error of his ways, to let him accept things as they were. And again, she fell pregnant, each day promising Seidrik that the goddess would fix him, would make it all right.

So, when one morning he woke and his mother’s attendant dressed him in black, he made the trek with Saria to the temple, his first time inside, and only then did he know his mother had perished.

He’d cried for days, afraid of what was to come. Any day would come where he would be caught. No mother to hide him. No new brother to distract the king. So, when Virion manifested omega, Seidrik seized the opportunity.

They’d been playing in the garden when it happened.

Virion, always a sensitive little boy, had fallen and skinned his knee.

In his fit of tears, antlers so similar to his own sprang from his head, and wings like the sugarmoth ripped his tunic as they shot free.

His first thought had been to hide him, to protect Virion, but an attendant shouted, had seen it.

“Call the king! Virion has manifested omega .”

With Alluin’s attention drawn, Seidrik saw the disgust. He saw the hatred, and when he attended the temple and they bowed their heads in prayer to the goddess, he never spoke a word to her.

After all. The goddess never speaks to omegas. And if she cared, she’d have never made me one.

Seidrik snuck off quite often, leaving the castle walls to go hunting . He never returned with prey, but it was nice to stretch his wings in the glade, to let his antlers free. They pained him to keep hidden.

Bubbling laughter met his ears that evening. Seidrik stood and glanced around. “Catpaw!”

A yellow boy of a nymph sprung from behind a copse of cross oak and tinder maple. Finely woven bay willow leaves lay scattered about in his sunny curls. “Seidrik!”

They rolled and laughed with one another, flying about. They picked the strawblossoms that day as they’d only recently bloomed and decorated their hair. They shone so prettily in Seidrik’s straight blond locks that it was a shame he had to hide his beauty.

Nymphs aged very slowly, as compared to fae.

A fae might live a thousand years, but they reached maturity by twenty.

Nymphs did not mature until at least a century, though their lifespans were similar.

The male nymph, Catpaw, whom Seidrik had called after the fluffy yellow flowers, braided his hair in the style of an omega, with smaller forelock braids that swept back while he told tales of when Lyrica was a girl.

The reflection he saw in the creek made him long to one day be himself. And in the same breath? He cursed it.

As he flew through the forest, he rested on a tree branch and stared up at the Mother Goddess. She shone down on him warmly, and he wished so very much that she’d speak to him, promise him it would be alright. He dared not speak to her first, not even the please that burned in his heart.

“Seidrik?” A vaguely familiar voice called out, and he turned in time to see a freckle-faced boy with blood-dove wings and dragon’s horns. “By the law, you’re as cute as your brother.”

Seidrik shrieked and flailed, falling from the tree as his weak wings failed to catch him. In a flicker and flash, the young male, an alpha he knew, caught him with a laugh. “Careful, Seidrik…or should I just call you omega .”

“No. No, no no!” Seidrik willed his glamor into place and tore the flowers and braids from his hair in a flurry. “No! I’m beta. I’m a beta!”

“Suuuuure. And I’m a girl.” Stamel snorted and grinned, a gap in his teeth where his last baby tooth had fallen out .

“What are you doing in my forest? Spying on me!” Seidrik nearly shrieked the words, but he could barely think straight for the pounding in his heart.

“Papa and Father are introducing me to omega royalty, trying to get me to sniff a prospective mate out for when I grow up.” Stamel scoffed. “Wish they’d let me talk to you instead of your brother.”

“Virion is a very pretty omega, I’m told. He has the royal pallor and spring deer antlers. He has moth wings and is soft-spoken.” Seidrik cleared his throat and took a step back, bumping into a tree as Stamel approached.

“He’s kinda sissy. I like you better. Jewelflies are my favorite.” Stamel’s grin didn’t fade. “But why are you hiding? You’re cute, too. Do they already have a husband picked for you?”

“I’m a beta! I will have a wife.” Seidrik’s chest heaved faster by the minute. In his eleven years of life, he’d never felt such fear.

“What if I asked King Alluin?” Menace glinted in his pretty blue eyes.

“No! Please don’t. Please.” Seidrik’s ears rang. “I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” Stamel took a step closer.

“Please. Anything. I’ll get you vitalis! I’ll… I can get money.” Seidrik panted, ears ringing harder.

“Nah.” He chuckled and came so close to Seidrik, leaning down the few inches to match their height. “But I’ll stay quiet if you do me a favor.”

Seidrik whimpered.

“Practice kissing with me. I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Stamel turned his head, his mouth puckered oddly.

Seidrik didn’t know what to do but close his eyes and lean in, their lips touching.

They held their lips there for a solid few seconds before pulling away, and heat seared Seidrik’s cheeks.

He’d kissed an alpha… He wa s dirty… Seidrik’s mind spun with all the horrible things that could happen from omegas who kissed alphas. “I don’t want to get pregnant!”

Stamel snorted hard and laughed. “You don’t get pregnant from kissing, dummy. I think you have to sleep in the same bed and do weird stuff and make gross noises. That’s what my parents did a lot before Lumic was born.”

Seidrik let a shaking breath free in relief. “Really?”

“Yup!” Stamel leaned in and pecked a quick kiss to his cheek. “I don’t like Virion. I like you. So, every time we see each other, you have to come practice kissing with me, okay? Then I won’t tell anyone.”

Seidrik nodded dumbly and sagged to the ground with a whimper as Stamel flew off. “I wish I could hide it forever.” Seidrik sobbed once, and Catpaw flew over, concern over his face.

“I could make it go away. I could make you hide it.” Mischief danced in the nymph’s monochrome eyes.

“Please.” Seidrik fell to his knees and sobbed once.

“Ask me my name. I’ll take them away as payment.” Catpaw’s soft fingers brushed his cheek, and the glamor of Seidrik’s wings and horns released. “If your horns are gone, you won’t need to let them out as much.”

An omega’s horns were sacred, but Seidrik did not want to be an omega. “W-what’s your name, your true name, Catpaw?”

Seidrik screamed as two harsh cracking sounds reverberated through his head. With a clatter, his horns fell to the grass in front of him. He sobbed as sharp stabs of pain racked his body, starting at his head and down his back, forcing his wings to rescind.

With a whisper as soft as a breeze and gentle as milkfluff, Catpaw whispered, “Honeythistle.”

And what a name it truly was. Honeythistle stopped an omega from conceiving and paired with nightflower, made their begging nights lessen. For some omegas, it came less often, and for others, it was far gentler.

Honeythistle flower, the omega’s preventative.

So fitting.

“I’ll take these as payment, and I’ll do with them what I please. But for now, since I have them, you can hide. See to it you’re not discovered at all costs, or else these are worthless.” Catpaw picked the horns up, waving them at Seidrik before he disappeared into the trees.

Seidrik never saw the nymph again.

Stamel

Fifteen years ago, Stamel recalled, thinking back to the moment he first discovered Seidrik’s secret.

Stamel vaguely recalled sitting in a tree outside the clearing, watching the secret omega, and the nymph brought him no pleasure as he bartered his antlers away for a name.

He stayed there for a long time, watching Seidrik leave in tears, watching the nymph gather the tines almost reverently.

“Nymph!” Stamel had heard the creature issue his name, and knowing a nymph’s true name was power. “Catpaw.”

But that was not it’s true name. In years gone by, the true name had gone from his memory. He’d given it back, given much.

The yellow nymph flew to him with unerring grace, the antlers clutched in his hand.

“Alpha son, king you will be.” The youthful nymph tilted his head, yellow curls falling into place as if swimming through water .

“I will trade you for those antlers. I will give you your name back,” Stamel smirked, the smile fading as the nymph laughed.

“No. They are far more valuable than my name. They are a prince’s antlers, after all.” He clutched them to his chest and floated a few steps away.

“I will give you as much honey as I can carry, too.” Stamel watched anxiously.

“Why? What does the boy mean to you?” Catpaw grinned.

“I wish to marry him.” Stamel nodded succinctly. Seidrik was very important at that moment.

“I shall take my name and the honey, but I also—” The memory faded off, always a blank spot.

Stamel recalled taking honey from their caravan and bringing it to the nymph and receiving the horns, surely…

But he could never recall the nymph’s true name or what else he’d asked for.

He only remembered the nymph’s parting warning.

“Your omega brother will have everything in your stead. Despite what he will say, the Croatens crown he will take.”

And in that moment, Stamel grew very wary of his beloved little omega brother.