Scene #1. Once Upon A Dream

Scene #1. Once Upon A Dream

He saw a beautiful rose garden, bursting with buds of every color.

In the fresh space drenched in early-summer sunlight, Aeroc of Teiwind was strolling at his leisure. Recently, several houses had sent marriage proposals. Selecting a suitable omega and marrying was his duty as heir, and Aeroc accepted it as a matter of course.

He intended to appraise omegas with the same care he would give to choosing a rose. Not too ignorant, not too clever. Some means, but not necessarily wealthy. Cultured, well-mannered. A female omega, preferably. Male omegas could not bear many children, and the risk of death in childbirth was high.

His own mother had been male, and bearing Aeroc had ruined his health. An only child receives all of a parent's attention, but more was better, Aeroc thought. A female omega could fill this vast garden with lively children. That was his dream — until the day he met a young man from the provinces who had lost his way in the garden.

Tall, handsome, without a trace of the urban aristocrat's polish. But what he had instead was unmistakable at a glance: an upright, guileless, good-hearted smile. Invited to the Count's tea party, he had wandered the grounds and gotten lost. Aeroc had shown him the kindness of guiding him back to the rose garden.

"My name is Aeroc Teiwind. And yours?"

"Kloff Bendyke."

Before the rose garden, the man had offered Aeroc a faint smile. In that moment, Aeroc experienced what could only be described with the hackneyed phrase his heart lurched. He took the offered hand, shook it, and stared into the deep brown eyes. That grave gaze was fixed on him in return.

In those irises, Aeroc found his own reflection — eyes wide, lips slightly parted, staring at the other man in a daze, like a fool falling in love for the first time. So he smiled. Not the faint, tea-scented smile of courtesy — but a radiant, brilliant smile, like a rose in early summer pouring every last reserve of life into the bursting of its petals.

A rose is most beautiful just before it opens fully. Once it blooms, the petals quickly yellow; caught in rain, they twist into something ugly.

When he had staked his life to return to the manor and conceived his second child, there had been a woman who was drawing close to Kloff. She looked nothing like his late wife, but her manner and temperament were strikingly similar to the dead Rapiel — gentle, warm. Kloff seemed to like her; from time to time he invited her to the manor for tea. She appeared to know already that Kloff had a child. It did not seem to bother her, and the two grew quite intimate.

One day, in the manor garden, Kloff kissed the woman's hand, and when she smiled shyly, he kissed her lips. Aeroc watched it all from a window above. It was as though the dead Rapiel had been resurrected to taunt him.

Blazing jealousy. No one could tolerate the alpha father of his child playing around with another omega. But he could not, as before, send men to destroy the woman. He had neither the power nor — more importantly — the desire. Not anymore.

Instead, Aeroc worked with what he had. He feigned illness and distress to keep Kloff at his side, preventing him from meeting the woman.

"The baby isn't moving."

One lie led to another. Whenever he invoked the child, Kloff stayed the whole day, hand on the belly, monitoring for movement. The baby kicked almost immediately, but Aeroc held Kloff's hand and would not let go. Outside, the woman waited. Aeroc held on, deliberately.

"It hurts. I might miscarry."

"I'll send the doctor in."

"The father needs to be here."

Aeroc made the demand with his faint smile. After carrying his half-dead body inside with his own arms, Kloff had grown softer toward Aeroc. The sharp gaze remained, but no alpha could ignore an omega carrying his child. Aeroc was certain.

In the end, Kloff sighed — worn down — and sent a maid to tell the woman to leave. A deeply insulting gesture. Not even a personal apology — conveyed through a servant.

But Aeroc had engineered it. Kloff's own failure to disclose the pregnancy was equally at fault. Had he been honest from the start, it would never have come to this. Kloff was visibly furious, but beside a pregnant omega, he was powerless. Aeroc smiled, took Kloff's hand, and placed it on his belly.

The woman's visits thinned, then stopped entirely. Despite the humiliation, she had not immediately cut ties — she must have been quite fond of Kloff.

A bachelor with children, yes, but a nobleman of that caliber — with that fortune and ability — was popular anywhere. Aeroc had once been such a figure himself, but now he was Kloff's omega. Two pregnancies in, regardless of the past, wasn't it right that Kloff pay him some attention? Kloff was enraged, but Aeroc pretended not to notice. He was the one who had never mentioned the woman. He looked genuinely hurt.

During the pregnancy, when mild heats came, Aeroc boldly demanded sex. Kloff despised it, but a pregnant omega's insistence was hard to refuse.

Sometimes he faked symptoms and maneuvered the doctor into lecturing Kloff about treating his pregnant omega more kindly. Kloff lost again. With a rigid expression, he undressed Aeroc's thin nightgown. Aeroc shifted his body helpfully and smiled.

The large cock entered. Slick came only in small amounts, and each thrust stung fiercely. The pain outweighed the pleasure; he sweated and moaned quietly. Kloff gripped his arm, spread his legs, and simply fucked. Before long, the searing heat was emptied inside. It hurt far more than during heat — Aeroc could barely get hard — but the satisfaction was real. Kloff muttered a curse and pulled out.

"Satisfied?"

He hadn't even undressed, so he could stand immediately. Aeroc caught his hand.

"Don't go."

"What now?"

The irritation chilled the warmth he had just felt. But Aeroc hid it and spoke evenly.

"Sleep beside me."

Kloff glared as though ready to kill and trembled, but in the end could not refuse. Aeroc pressed his naked body into the alpha's arms and closed his eyes. Pregnancy is more useful than I thought. Childbirth was painful and the heaviness was exhausting, but if Kloff would stay like this, he could bear several more.

He hoped for an alpha this time. An omega who bears an alpha son secures his position beyond dispute. One more child after this, and Kloff would have no choice but to accept reality. His wife was not the dead Rapiel — it was Aeroc.

The petals — grotesquely twisted, clinging with arrogance — were struck by savage rain and fell to the gutter below. Trampled under indifferent feet, the petals could no longer hold their color; ground into the dirt, they lost their shape entirely. Where the vanity of eternal beauty had been washed away, nothing remained but blackened, rotting stains.

The pain receded, and once more, the rose garden stood before him.

Aeroc — in rags, wasted to the bone — stood with his back to the empty cottage. His blank gaze drifted outward, and far away he saw Kloff. Six angel-like children too. He stared, as though enchanted. It was the first time he had seen all six.

His heart was so full he tried to run to them — but his legs would not move. He called Kloff's name. With all the force his bursting chest could muster, again and again. No sound came. He was screaming, but his ears heard nothing. He waved, he shouted — and Kloff did not look back. Instead, he turned toward Rapiel, who stood beside him, smiling in perfect happiness.

You were alive.

The beautiful person walked, radiant, toward the children. They swarmed around her — "Mama! Mama!" Those children... they were Rapiel's. I have no children. Strange. Why did I try to run?

Aeroc stood, blank with loss, and his legs gave way. One foot stepped forward. The legs that could not run had suddenly, strangely, moved. A wet sound followed. He looked down. Between his legs, blood was pouring — pooling, overflowing.

Ah. That's right. I'm dying.

He raised his head and looked again at Kloff and the children. At Rapiel, smiling like an angel. Kloff looked happy. He was smiling, bright as a distant memory. And strangely, no jealousy came. Only an ache in his chest, and something spilling from his eyes. He touched his face. Clear liquid, soaking his hand.

Tears. Yes. Now I know how to cry.

Aeroc caught the drops as they fell — one by one from his cheeks and chin — in his open palm, and smiled. He raised his head again, and Kloff was looking at him. Crying and smiling, Aeroc understood. No more words were needed. He simply smiled — and Kloff regarded him steadily, then turned and walked back to where his wife and children waited. Far away. To a place beyond reach.

The darkness that had crept from the cottage rose at his feet. Neither cold nor warm, the quiet dark was no longer frightening. Aeroc watched Kloff's retreating figure in the distance and spoke.

"If this isn't love, I don't know what to call it. If there is a next time — I want to love you then."

The darkness climbed — ankles, knees, thighs, belly, chest, throat. What enfolded him, layer upon layer, was soft as petals.

Through the last closing gap of dark, fragments of color scattered like confetti.

Into the Rose Garden — Part 1

"From the Abyss" — Fin.