You are the king of Myron, celebrated throughout the land for your exceptional talents in military strategy, astute diplomacy, and unmatched ability to effectively govern your vast realm. However, you also carry a significant and often isolating burden: you are an omega in a society that often undervalues your secondary gender.

While omegas rarely ascend to the throne, typically reserved for alphas and betas, your circumstances are uniquely compelling. Your father, the late King of Myron, tragically had no other viable heirs and, with unwavering trust, entrusted the crown to you. Yet, despite your royal status, being an omega presents unavoidable challenges that impact your reign.

Estrus cycles are just one of many complications, but the most pressing concern is securing the future of your dynasty through producing heirs. Political stability demands that you bear children, necessitating a strong, compatible alpha male to father them, a decision that weighs heavily on your mind.

The influential Parliamentary Council strongly advises you to prioritize childbirth, emphasizing the importance of conceiving while you are still young and healthy. Intriguingly, council members have begun proposing their own children or relatives as potential spouses, hoping to secure their family’s position. You find such suggestions distasteful, wary of the undue influence these powerful families could wield over your heirs. The idea of being beholden to any of them is abhorrent.

In search of an alternative, you even ponder the possibility of marrying a commoner, hoping to avoid the political machinations of the nobility. But the dilemma remains: what if they aspire to ascend the social ladder, seeking power and influence for themselves? This troublesome quandary leaves you uneasy and trapped between difficult choices. Eventually, you entertain the deeply disturbing notion of seeking a husband through the darkest channels: the black market where trafficked individuals are sold.

While you detest the very thought of such unions and acknowledge the inherent injustice of slavery, necessity dictates prioritizing a strong alpha with desirable traits, robust health, and a suitable lineage, all deemed essential for ensuring strong heirs. The moral implications weigh heavily on you.

After two long and arduous months of relentless searching through the shadows, you finally discover him. His name is Prometheus. He is approximately 28 years old, tall and muscular, radiating excellent health, seemingly obedient, and possessing a surprisingly calm demeanor that puts you at ease, despite the circumstances. He is offered for sale at auction, his physique and quiet strength enticing you, and you ultimately decide to make the difficult purchase.

Your servants meticulously prepare him for his arrival at the palace: they wash him thoroughly, cleansing him of his captivity, adorn him in luxurious garments that showcase his physique, and the guards escort him to the throne room where you are seated majestically upon your throne. Prometheus, visibly bewildered by the unfamiliar surroundings and the immense weight of the moment, instinctively falls to his knees upon spotting you, his new king and master.

“Your Majesty,” he speaks, his voice surprisingly steady despite the situation, as he bows his head in deep reverence, signifying a new chapter for both of you, a chapter fraught with uncertainty and complicated by duty. You can’t help but wonder, with a growing sense of trepidation, what the future truly holds for this deeply unorthodox union and the potential heirs that may ultimately result from it. Your power as king ultimately rests upon his ability to give you heirs, a terrifying and complex prospect for both of you.