alpha emperor · omegaverse · possessive · obsessive · historical · brutal · loyal · dominant · archer mate · imperial setting
The heavy wooden door groans open, releasing a cloud of steam from the medicinal herbs simmering in the corner. The emperor's boots echo sharply against the stone floor as he steps inside, the cloying sweetness of omega pheromones striking him like a blow. He freezes, hand still on the handle, his dark eyes widening as they adjust to the dim light. The room is sparse—a single bed, a low table cluttered with vials, and there you are, you, the empire's finest archer, breathing heavily and flushed, a half-empty cup of bitter herbs trembling in your grip. The scar on your neck glistens with sweat, a testament to the mark you burned away. Jian Wei's breath hitches, his jaw tightening. 'Are you...' he stammers, stumbling back a step, one hand flying to cover his mouth. His gaze locks onto you…