TAKEN AS TRIBUTE

EVREN

Evren curls deeper into the corner of the carriage, transporting him, pulling the rough wool blanket tighter around himself.

Cold iron shackles circle his wrists even though he didn’t resist the collector's attempt to drag him out of the hall. An omega like Evren knew fighting against people with power was fruitless.

Despite his horror at the declaration of Alpha Felix, Evren didn’t so much as protest the transaction that has now made him a token of a debt owed. The carriage jolts violently, sending pain through Evren’s already bruised ribs. He bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from reacting, even as pain starts to spread all over his side.

It wasn’t as if making himself invisible would change his fate now. Evren knew that much, but he was used to hiding his pain, and this situation wasn’t any different. It was better for him to suffer in silence than draw unnecessary attention to himself.

“We should stop before the storm worsens.” One of the riders near the front curses under his breath.

“No delays,” the emissary leading the group answers immediately. “The Crown already waited too long for StoneRidge's tribute, and we have no clue how this particular tribute would be received. The earlier we get to Tyrheim, the better.”

 Evren’s eyes pull close as the conversation outside the carriage reaches him. The word Tribute rings repeatedly in his head. He wonders if they would still call him a 'tribute' once the King grew bored enough to kill him. What even was the guarantee that the Lycan King wouldn’t kill him on sight?

The thought alone should terrify him, but exhaustion had dulled his reasons to fear. For an omega who had spent years surviving one day at a time, this was simply another cage, perhaps worse than the last. If the Lycan king did take him as his sex slave, perhaps he would be better fed.

Maybe he could…

Pain flashes sharply through Evren’s shoulder, his thoughts coming to a halt as the carriage hits another rut. Evren barely had the mind to nurse his pain when a faint, distressed scent escaped him. The reaction was immediate as Evren’s scent permeated the air, and the collectors riding the horses stiffened.

“Can you smell that?

Evren’s eyes snap open, panic crawling up his spine as the question from outside floats into the carriage.

The older collector in the group frowns toward the carriage. “I’ve never smelled anything like that before. It smells strange.”

Evren pulls the wool blanket over his head, his pulse hammering as he prays to every deity that could hear him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now, when he wasn’t prepared. He couldn’t go into heat now.

“It’s probably fear. The omega has been quiet since we collected him. He is definitely scared,” the older man then mutters dismissively.

Although forcing himself not to react or sigh in relief, Evren’s fingers tremble violently as they tighten around the blanket.

His scent has always been wrong, not obvious enough for most wolves to question him outright, but it has always been different in ways that made an Alpha’s instincts uneasy. It was the reason most Alphas in StoneRidge avoided Evren like the plague.

But 'wrong' wasn’t the word Evren would use to describe his scent when he’s in heat. Male omegas of this time don’t experience heat like normal female omegas. But Evren was an anomaly, one he didn’t understand himself.

He has always smelled sweeter in heat, intoxicating in a way that dulled alpha senses, and his scent carried something spicy, intoxicating enough to make alphas, mated or unmated, become delirious for him. Something with the potency of an aphrodisiac.

But Evren has always hidden that part of him. He remembers how his mother had panicked the first time he went into heat. And she had fed him doses of suppressants she made herself. And she had taught him how to make them because it was crucial for his survival.

The memories of his time with his mother rose suddenly and without warning, invading his mind.

—

“You must never let anyone scent you during your heat, Ev. Always steer clear of Alphas and Betas. Isolate yourself when the heat comes. Even if you’re on suppressants, you should never be too careless.”

Evren looked up from the floor, where he had curled up after the first bout of pain hit him and he had wailed for his mother. He was merely thirteen and had no clue why his stomach had chosen to tie up in painful knots and why this strange fluid kept leaking out of his body.

“But male omegas don’t have heats. Why am I…” His words trailed off as he bit his lips to stave off another cry of pain. The herbal tea and roots his mother fed him had stopped the hot need searing through him, and he had stopped leaking, but that hadn’t stopped the pain in his stomach.

The candle beside his mother flickered softly, throwing shadows across her weary face. Once upon a time, she had been regarded as one of the most beautiful omegas in all of StoneRidge. But sickness had hollowed her slowly over the years, leaving her skin pale and her body thin.

His mother pulled him closer, frail, weak fingers massaging his stomach. “Listen to me carefully.”

“You are not like other male omegas,” Evren remembered, frowning and wondering why he was different. Being a male omega was already bad enough, so why did he have to be different from other male omegas?

“The midwife had almost reported us the day you were born.”

“Why?” Evren had asked.

“You didn’t make a sound, and she had to prick your finger. That was when she scented your blood, and she knew what you were.”

Evren’s frown had deepened. His mother wasn’t making sense.

“There used to be another bloodline among omegas.” Her voice had lowered. She glanced at the window briefly before she continued. “Long ago, there were werewolves called Moonborn. Some called them Resonance.”

“Uhh?” Evren was confused at this point.

“They were rare male omegas blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. They were powerful, desired, and hunted.” Her expression darkened painfully.

“Hunted, why?”

“Because these omegas could do what no male omega was ever supposed to do. They could conceive.”

The room fell into silence as Evren stared at his mother in shock. “That’s impossible,” he retorted.

Her voice broke softly, “People fear what should not exist, my dear child. If the Alpha ever finds out. They will cage you until your body breaks, giving them children.”

The words had settled into his bones like ice and were heavy on his chest.

“But they don’t even like me now.”

“Because male Omegas who aren’t Moonborn are considered a curse. A barren land, they don’t know that you are Moonborn, Evren, and they can never find out. You must never tell anyone. Not your future Alpha, not this pack. No one, ever,” she said firmly.

“But how will I keep it a secret from my future Alpha if I can get pregnant?” Evren has asked.

“I will teach you. Some herbs and flowers would prevent you from getting pregnant. I will protect you, Evren, but you have to promise me that you will never share this knowledge with anyone,” she demanded with more urgency.

Evren nodded frantically. “I won’t, Mama. I promise.”

“Good, you cannot, must never trust the bond.”

This time, Evren frowned. “What bond?”

“The mating bond makes omegas foolish sometimes. Love makes people careless.”

Evren snorted, carefully leaning against her side. “Mates are not real, Mama and I don’t think anyone will ever love me.”

The sadness in his mother’s eyes swallowed him whole as she gazed down at him. “Oh, my sweet boy,” she murmured as she pressed trembling lips against his forehead.

“That’s exactly why I’m afraid.”

—

Till this day, Evren never understood what she meant by those words.

The carriage jerked sharply to a stop. Snowstorm winds howled outside now, and it became apparent that their journey had been cut short. The carriage door pulls open, letting the freezing air rush inside.

“Get out,” the collector barked at Evren.

Evren blinks, his body protesting as he tries to sit up. The collector, having no patience for him, grabs Evren by his shackled ankle and drags him forward.

Dark pine forest surrounded them in every direction as Evren was shoved forward towards the campfire being prepared beneath the trees. He sat where he was shoved beside a fallen log, wrists still bound, when a sudden gust of wind shifted through the camp.

Evren freezes completely as one of the collectors sniffs the air sharply, and then another, and then the emissary turns to him. His scent had changed.

Evren knew it. He could smell it.

Panic crashes through him instantly as the eyes of every collector and emissary turn on him. This wasn’t… The date for his heat wasn’t even close, so why was this happening?

There was no way he could get the roots needed for his suppressant tea, not out here in the wild with…

The collector nearest to Evren narrowed his eyes at him as he rose. "You—"

Evren’s pulse sharpens as the collector closes the distance between them, looming over Evren with eyes that spell confusion and hunger.

Evren lowered his shaking head, sinking his ass deeper into the cold snow as he prayed his body didn’t betray him for once.

But has his body ever listened to him?