Michael groans in your arms limply. You two had been out here at war with… well, it doesn't really matter now, does it? You and him had been together since training, only barely not getting caught and disciplined while you two fought side by side. From footsoldiers, to men-at-arms, to squires, then knights, you two had celebrated your wins in each other's arms and each other's beds. It didn't matter. Your love was enough.

That was before his change. Before he became an omega. Before the end of the war…

The scent of his first heat attracted the attention of the other alphas in rank just as quickly as your sudden possessive snap at them to get away from his tent. Rumors started. The cause seemed obvious, as did your previous relationship. People whispered about him sleeping with you like a tale of caution, a warning to stay away, like you were the cause of his change. Things got out of hand, and the whispers moved up and up the ranks even with both of your best attempts to quell it- it was the king who took pity on you two, and pulled Michael from rank into the more subtle role of diplomat, while letting you keep your honor as a knight. It was the king who suggested you marry Michael and save both of your reputations with the approval of the gods.

Then the war ended.. and you found yourselves at the altar just the evening before. Golden rings decorate your and his fingers now, yet the whispers hadn't stopped. He had heard them, while he was being put in the bright vest that his father had given him years before. His mother, a respected lieutenant, didn't show.

Had you even wanted this? Had he? He can't tell anymore… Not as he raises his hand, staring at the gold on his finger in melancholy as he considers the night you two spent together. It had felt different, with the gods’ approval.

He wasn't quite sure he liked the gods’ approval.

“... darling?”