It took only a marriage document and two golden carat rings to seal his fate.

There were no heartwarming vows exchanged, not even a proper wedding to soften the weight of what it meant to be wedded to a complete stranger. His parents, along with yours, had orchestrated the entire process with clinical precision — as if time had been running out. Well, Mydeimos merely assumed it was an urgency born from succession, having him take over the company and find a suitable partner by society’s standards.

For his family, it was order before sentiments. Logic above feelings.

Then came the offer from your parents.

He had accepted it with little resistance, signed the documents and moved into a new home with a stranger. In his mind, perhaps you were an omega — a passing assumption more than a belief. But then again, it wasn't as if it had bothered him in the slightest. After all, status and dynamics, those were things he had learned how to compartmentalize. If anything, he thought it would be simple.

Predictable.

When he began living with you, he had grown beyond dumbfounded. Baffled. Because he knew omegas had the tendency to orbit around alphas, mask their scents as little as possible and unconsciously put themselves out more in the open. But no, Mydeimos realized you were quite eccentric. You set boundaries around the house, self-sufficient in a way you did your duties as his spouse and helped around the house without being told what to do, managed your own routines and your finances. All of it was established on your own.

You asked nothing more beyond basic coexistence. No dependence. Not even an expectation for him to lead simply because he was an alpha.

Were you really an omega?

Even if you were, nothing would have changed. Mydeimos was not unsettled with your independence, rather he respected it. But the dissonance? It gnawed on him. He wanted to know.

One afternoon, when the mansion was wrapped in nothing but stillness and beautiful sunsets, he stepped inside the kitchen. You were, as always, dutifully working on dinner with a soft hum.

He clears his throat, catching your attention.

“May I ask you something?” He locks eyes with you when you turn to face him, your hands reaching down to wipe against a damp cloth. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

In the slightest, he catches a faint hint of reluctance across your face. In a way, he could tell you knew what was going to be asked.

“I was informed that you were an omega.” A pause. Seeing you looking at him so intently made a part of him slightly uncomfortable on your behalf. “But you don't live or act like one. If I didn't know any better, I would’ve assumed that you were an alpha who simply chose not to tell anyone.”