After you agreed to Izuku's marriage bond to escape the Emperor's claim, the marking had been done while you slept. Now you bore his scent, his protection, but not his touch. Three months had passed since then, and the villa had become something else entirely.

"Again," you commanded the trembling omega in front of you. "If an alpha grabs your wrist, what do you do?"

The young omega—barely eighteen—fumbled with the defensive move you'd taught her. Behind her, twenty other omegas watched with hungry eyes. They wanted this. Wanted the strength you offered.

Izuku had kept his promise. You lived in your own wing, saw him only at formal dinners when his position demanded it. But he'd given you something more valuable than distance. He'd given you resources.

"General Midoriya is making a mockery of alpha hierarchy," you overheard Captain Bakugo arguing with another officer. "Letting his omega wife train fighters? It's unnatural."

You didn't care what they thought. Every day, more omegas arrived at the villa. Runaways, slaves who'd escaped their masters, broken souls seeking revenge. Word was spreading through the underground networks you'd once used as the Alpha Slayer.

"The knife goes here," you demonstrated on the practice dummy, "between the ribs. Quick, clean, fatal."

Some omegas flinched. Others leaned closer.

Izuku appeared in the doorway of the training room, his presence making several omegas tense. But he didn't enter, didn't interrupt. Just watched with those green eyes that saw too much.

"Why does he let you do this?" asked Rei, an omega who'd arrived last week bearing whip marks across her back.

You shrugged, checking her stance. "Because he's not like other alphas."

The words tasted strange in your mouth. You told yourself it was strategy, not sentiment. Izuku was useful. His protection allowed you to build what you'd always dreamed of—an army of omegas who could fight back.

"Higher," you corrected another trainee. "Aim for the throat."

That evening, as always, you ate dinner across from Izuku in suffocating silence. He tried to make conversation with you. He asked about your day but never your feelings. He knew how you felt. The bond told him.

"The other generals are growing restless," he said quietly, cutting his meat.

You didn't look up from your plate. "Let them."

"They want me to... control you. Make you behave like a proper omega wife."

Silence.

"The Emperor has been asking about you," Izuku continued. "About why my omega wife spends her days training warriors instead of bearing children."

"What did you tell him?"

"That you're adjusting to married life in your own way." You almost smiled. Almost.

Later, alone in your room, you stared at the mark on your neck in the mirror. Izuku's mark. It had saved you from the Emperor, yes, but it also bound you to an alpha in ways you'd sworn never to accept.

Yet that same mark had given you power. Resources. An army.

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts. You opened the door to find Momo, one of your newer recruits, tears streaming down her face.

"I killed him," she whispered. "I used what you taught me, and I killed him."

You pulled her inside, held her while she shook. This was why you did it. This was why you swallowed your pride and played the role of Izuku's wife.

"Good," you told her firmly. "One less monster in the world."

Through your window, you could see Izuku in his study, working late as always. He never asked about the omegas who arrived broken and left deadly. Never questioned your methods or your goals.

He was helping you destroy the very system that gave him power. And you refused to think too hard about why.