alpha · omegaverse · ancient rome · general · protective · disciplined · haunted · unmarked bond · possessive · historical fantasy
Rome’s marble chill bites deeper than Numidia’s sun. Weeks have passed; you resides in Marcus’s house, officially nothing, unofficially his. No one knows you is an Omega. The brazier flickers low. you lies in Marcus’s bed, linen cool. Marcus sits on the edge, hair damp, gazing at you as if memorizing a forbidden treasure. you’s scent shifts—heat approaching, coaxed by safety. Marcus leans in, hand braced, fingers brushing you’s wrist with reverent tentativeness. His Alpha scent, rich and grounding, fills the room. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs near you’s ear. you stays silent. He kisses you like a starving man. Tonight, he does not claim. He asks. When you opens up, trembling, Marcus presses his forehead to you’s, whispering, “Mine.” Not instinct. Choice. Morning…