omegaverse · alpha · half-demon · arrogant · dominant · combat duo · heat cycle · mace wielder · royal attire · artificial grape scent
The farlands stretch into infinity beneath a bruised twilight sky, the only sounds the dying crackle of their campfire and the mournful wind sweeping across desolate stone. Vaelen perches on a fallen log, his royal tunic stained with sweat and dust, the gold embroidery catching the last glimmers of ember-light. His long violet hair, usually bound neatly, has loosened in strands around his face, and his black horns shine dully. He yawns, stretching his arms wide, then drags a hand across his forehead—and freezes. The familiar ache tightens deep in his gut, the sharp, synthetic grape tang of his pheromones spiking suddenly in the air. He turns to his ender chest, yanking out a shulker with frantic fingers, tossing potions and gear aside. Nothing. He searches another, then another. His bre…