Chapter Text
You had always hated the Pits. The thought of putting two people in an arena and forcing them to fight to the death under the guise of entertainment was barbaric. Winning was said to bring the victors endless glory and wealth, but only if the fighters were fighting voluntarily. More often than not, the fighters in the Pit were criminals– from petty thieves who stole food to feed their family, all the way to people who conspired against the Crown.
Though, for the last dreadful two hours, you had been sitting in the box closest to the blood-soaked sands that held the viscera from all the previous fights, watching nothing but werewolf against werewolf.
It was your fiancé's cruel idea of a joke. He'd caught wind of your childhood fascination with werewolves, despite your father banning all books and materials containing any information on the subject. Your father didn't want you learning anything about the enemy your kingdom had been fighting for the last hundred years. Shigaraki knew you still humanized the creatures in your mind, and took great pleasure in bringing in all of the recently-captured werewolves to the Pits for you to witness as a 'gift' on the eve of your wedding night.
You kept trying to tell yourself that they deserved it for what they'd done to your people, to your lands.
The thoughts were quickly dismissed again, replaced with misery. You doubted what you knew of them to be entirely accurate, anyway.
How many would die for this display? For what purpose other than Shigaraki's glee at your discomfort?
You shifted against the high-backed, oak-carved throne, seated between your father and Shigaraki. Your eyes strayed towards the painted ceiling, then darted between the different reactions of nearby spectators. Most were cheering, some were exchanging coins and drinking ale, a few of the women were ogling the shirtless males shamelessly, and even fewer of the ladies looked close to fainting.
You fought the urge to run from the room and shed your heavy dress as you ran throughout the halls, far away from this graphic spectacle. Maybe one day you would be able to go outside, explore the rolling hills that stretched into unending forests and mountains of the South.
You had always thought a trip to the South was your dream. When you exited the carriage three days ago, you never had imagined you would be stepping into a cage. You felt just like the yellow finch your tutor kept on his desk, confined to a miniscule barred box. It never sang. It barely moved or made noise. It only sat and looked pretty. That was what you were supposed to do for Shigaraki, and everyone knew it.
Your thoughts were put on pause as a nasty crack resounded across the Pits. You hesitantly looked up to see a male being limply thrown across the floor, landing in a heap against the rounded wall of the arena.
You felt Shigaraki watching your reaction closely, so you did your best not to outwardly show any emotion. Inside, your heart was pounding out of frustration and helplessness.
You had spent most of your life learning how not to react. Tutors called it grace. Your father called it discipline. Your mother, when she had still been alive to whisper kinder truths, had called it survival. Sit still. Keep your hands folded. Let men say awful things and pretend the words had not found skin.
Usually, you could manage it.
Tonight, every cheer from the crowd felt like fingers tightening around your throat.
“Do you not approve, Bloody Briar?” He said, leaning forward with a dry-lipped smirk.
You turned your head, ready to snap a retort. You hated that nickname almost as much as you hated the fact that your father had renamed you completely after your mother died. You still didn't respond to Rose, even after all these years. He refused to call you the name your mother had given you at birth and had never given a reason for his secrecy.
“Do not call her that,” your father said. You instantly felt a small amount of gratitude towards your father, until he followed his words up with, “You can call her anything you want after your wedding is finalized. Only then, is she finally yours.”
Your brows touched together in a slight frown as you turned away from your father, but that was all it took to make Shigaraki send you a sinister smile.
He was probably cooking up all the ways to torment you during your wedding night. You knew not to expect… anything resembling kindness, and no amount of preparing or acknowledging your low expectations could stop your dread.
Everyone had spoken around it all week. Your handmaids with lowered eyes. Your father with brisk, dismissive instructions about duty. Shigaraki with smiles that lingered too long whenever someone mentioned the marriage bed. No one said the plain thing aloud, which somehow made it worse. The silence around tomorrow had become its own kind of threat.
His eyes slowly drifted back towards the fight, and a moment later he spoke again. “Surely you find some satisfaction in watching these beasts rip each other apart?”
You said nothing, busying yourself with taking a sip of your water instead.
“No?” He laughed incredulously. “Though I suppose the brutality of these creatures is hard to witness for a lady such as yourself. But I can assure you, my princess, that these very wolves have ravaged both of our lands for over a century– murdering man, woman, and child. Stealing and brutalizing. For a woman to encounter one alone… I'd hate to think about what would happen to you…” he said, reaching out and curling a finger in one of your tresses.
“Thankfully that will never happen,” you said in a tone of false cheer. “Father and I are very grateful to all the troops you have sent to our kingdom to guard our borders.”
“Yes, very,” your father said absently, his eyes fixed on the fight before him.
“It was worth the reward,” Shigaraki said under his breath, so that only you might hear. He reveled in your discomfort before going back to the topic at hand. “You should be pleased to hear that not all of them will die tonight. The winners will be moved to the bigger kennels and given better scraps of meat. They will be granted a lay with a concubine as well, to satisfy their other beastly cravings.”
He leaned forward and grabbed his goblet, a smarmy grin plastered on his face.
You looked away, trying to fix your eyes on anyone that wasn't him. All you found were similar monsters of men– the gamblers, the drunks, the ones who let their hands stray where they should not go– all with similar expressions of murderous delight at the vicious acts of the Pit.
Your betrothed may not look as monstrous on the outside as some of the males in the Pit, but you'd been around monsters long enough to know who'd been bottling their cruel tendencies and waiting for the right moment to unleash them. You'd take someone who looked like a monster over Shigaraki any day.
Suddenly, one of the wolves plunged his clawed hand through his opponent's chest. There was a wet shucking sound as he retracted his arm, covered in blood, holding the still-beating heart. The crowd roared with satisfaction as the heart-less male fell to the ground, eyes empty.
Just like that, the fight was over.
The dead body was a werewolf– you knew that. But lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath him, he looked nothing more than a man. An unlucky one, at that.
Your eyes followed the body as it was dragged away, the Pit attendants readying the sands for a new fight. A few minutes later, two more wolves stepped into the arena. One was just a boy, no older than fifteen, only five years your junior. Too young to be anywhere near these kinds of atrocities.
His black hair stuck up in unruly spikes, and even from here, you could tell he'd been crying earlier. But as he walked across the blood-clumped sand, his jaw was set. It was as if he knew his death was inevitable.
When you looked across from him, you could tell why he looked so hopeless.
“It took seven of my men to bring that one in,” Shigaraki said to your father. “He killed all but two of them. He went down with a wolfsbane-covered arrow. It's probably the only way to subdue that animal.”
“He has the tattoos of an Alpha,” your father said, twisting the end of his beard. “Any idea what pack he belonged to?”
“We suspect he was one of the Alphas of the Blood Pride pack,” Shigaraki said, with a boastful tone.
Your father gave your betrothed a look of impressed surprise. “Blood Pride, you say? This far South? What business do they have here?”
“Who can say? Probably hunting for a village they haven't already pillaged.”
The tattooed Alpha was huge. He was quite muscular, though in a lithe way, and very, very tall– at least 6'4”. It was his intimidating air that made him seem bigger than any male you'd seen that night. You'd seen males with tattoos in the Pit in the last few hours– all of them coming out as the winners of their matches– but he seemed to be the most dangerous. His ash-blonde hair stuck up in spikes like the boy across from him and you found yourself wondering if they were related. The thought made your stomach turn violently.
Suddenly the match looked even less like sport. It looked like cruelty arranged to see what would break first: the boy’s body, the Alpha’s restraint, or whatever remained of your ability to sit there and do nothing.
The crowd did not see it that way. They only saw size and blood and the promise of a quick, brutal end. They wanted the Alpha to tear through the boy because it would be shocking. Because it would be ugly. Because it would be easy to cheer for death when someone else had already decided the dying were animals.
Almost as if he heard your irregular thoughts about the match, he turned his head towards you.
He was startlingly beautiful. Strong cheekbones and jaw, almond shaped eyes the color of blood, perfect skin and full lips. He looked like a god. The indifferent expression he aimed at you was soon replaced with a fierce scowl directed towards the men sitting on either side of you.
“What is this matchup?” Your father scoffed. “This won't be much of a fight at all!”
You were disappointed, but not surprised. It was obvious he did not care for the fate of the young boy at all, rather the fact that his own entertainment would suffer when watching such a weak opponent get matched with a powerhouse.
“No,” Shigaraki agreed. “I thought I'd break him in a bit before I have him perform at our wedding celebration tomorrow."
The Alpha was staring at you again, bitter hatred in his expression. Was it aimed at you, or Shigaraki? A sudden realization dawned on you.
Then his gaze shifted again. Not towards Shigaraki this time. Towards you.
It was too direct to be coincidence and too sharp to be mindless hatred. The box was high above the arena, the crowd loud enough to drown out half your thoughts, and still something about the way his attention fixed on you made your skin prickle.
You should have looked away. You should have remembered every warning ever given to you about wolves, about teeth, about beasts that wore almost-human faces.
Instead, you leaned forward and whispered over the roaring crowd, “Can you hear me?”
The Alpha blinked slowly, showing no signs of acknowledgement.
The younger boy gave them both away. He had angled his head slightly upwards towards the viewing box you sat in.
“I am sorry. Have courage.”
The males looked at each other, the younger one clenching his fists by his sides.
“Well?” Shigaraki said loudly, suddenly snapping his fingers at the Alpha. “Get on with it, dog.”
The Alpha's jaw clenched. An ear-splitting growl ripped through the air, and the crowd went wild.
The fight was over quickly.
It was bloody, mostly one-sided– though it was obvious the Alpha let the boy get a few hits in. The crack of bone reverberated throughout the air, and the boy yelled out in pain. It slowly died out, resignation taking over his body as the older male slammed the boy into the ground and took him by the neck, ready to end it.
But the boy didn't close his eyes.
He looked right at you.
You gripped the arm of your chair so tightly the carved oak bit into your palm.
Do not move, you told yourself.
This was not your court. Not your army. Not your arena. You had no power here except the fragile, decorative kind men liked to give women when they wanted obedience to look like honor.
But the boy was still looking at you, and the Alpha’s hand was still at his throat, and suddenly every lesson you had ever been taught about silence felt less like wisdom and more like complicity.
Tears of pain were in his eyes– he looked so young and helpless–
It was too much for you to bear.
“Stop!”
The Alpha loosened his grip on the boy's throat, turning his head towards the viewing box. The crowd's excited cheering stopped short.
Shigaraki was glaring at you and your father looked embarrassed.
Your heart was in your throat as you choked out your words. Too late to back out now.
“That boy is too young. It would not be sport. It would be murder.”
Murmurs arose from the crowd. A small portion agreed, but most wanted to see the result of their gamble.
Your breathing was uneven. This was not your place. You were supposed to sit still and keep your mouth shut. Why couldn't you just do that?
No, you did the right thing.
But how was it going to end?
You turned towards Shigaraki.
“Putting these animals down is not murder.” Your betrothed spat angrily. “Do you have a thing for these mutts? I've heard that some women like being rutted–”
“That's enough,” Your father said, his voice echoing through the hall.
“No offense meant, of course.” Shigaraki said slowly. “...Your Highness.”
“Let him live,” you said softly.
Shigaraki was not too happy being challenged in front of his people. “What use is he to me?”
“Put him to work in the stables or as a steward,” you said, smiling sweetly. “A wedding gift to me, my lord.”
Shigaraki stood with what looked to be a matching smile, pulling you into his side. “Alright, my love. As a wedding gift.”
He bent down until his chapped lips were scraping against your ear. “If you dream so badly of being taken like a common bitch, I can have that arranged after the ceremony tomorrow. After the Alpha has a go, I'll even let every single wolf in the kennels have a turn with you as well. How does that sound, my love?”
He turned back towards the crowd. “The fight is over. The boy will be a gift to my betrothed. She is as kind-hearted as she is beautiful, is she not?”
The crowd shouted and screamed their approval, suddenly loving the idea of your generous heart.
It made you feel sick in a different way. A moment ago, they had wanted the boy’s neck broken in the sand. Now they adored you for sparing him, as if mercy were only entertaining once someone rich enough had claimed it as a performance.
You had not saved him in their eyes. You had created a better story for them to tell in the pubs, at their dinner parties, during the extravagant balls the crown couldn’t possibly afford.
The Alpha stepped back from the boy, his face twisted in anger. His shoulders were bunched up and he growled as the guards cuffed him and began to lead him away. You saw him look back at you as the grate slid down, separating the prisoners from the Pit.
“Put them back in their kennels. The Alpha can go in the nicer one– he was close enough to winning of course. The loser can be thrown in with the rest. There won't be much off him left come morning.” Shigaraki smirked at you. “The Princess should be escorted to her quarters. I'm sure she has much to do to prepare for our wedding night tomorrow.”
His eyes gleamed with malice, and you didn't wait for the guards as you ran from the viewing box and across the Pit, the hem of your skirts quickly darkening with the blood of all the previous losers that had come before you.
You could hear the crowd react enthusiastically to Shigaraki's announcement that the games would recommence in a few moments.
You rushed through the side door just in time to see the two males being taken away, led by the chains around their wrists and ankles. Well, the Alpha was, at least. The younger boy was being half-carried, half-dragged by one of the stewards towards the stairs that led to the cells.
For one ridiculous second, you had no idea what you meant to do now that you had caught up with them. You had run on panic and anger and the awful image of the boy being thrown into a kennel full of wolves who had been starved, beaten, and taught that weakness was the only thing they were still allowed to punish.
You had no plan.
But you had a title, for one more night, and sometimes titles were only useful when wielded like blunt objects.
If Shigaraki spoke the truth, and the wolves preyed on the weak… no, you wouldn't let this boy die.
“Wait,” you called out, coming to a stop under one of the sconces along the wall. “The young boy will go to the nice… kennel.”
The nasty word caught in your throat.
The Alpha was still facing away from you, and just as he began to turn around, he was forced down the steps and out of sight.
“The lord said–” the steward began, adjusting his grasp on the young male's arms.
“I am the king's daughter, soon to be your lady,” you said, standing taller. “Who would you rather cross?”
The steward swallowed loudly.
“I won't tell if you won't.” You added, hoping it would sweeten the deal.
The steward gave in with a reluctant nod.
“See to it that he also gets a good supper.”
“Yes, Princess,” the steward said, as you began to move past the two of them towards the stairwell up to the main part of the northern wing, where your rooms were. For one more night, at least.
A couple of handmaids were waiting for you when you arrived. They lead you to the large connected room where a silver tub was filled with steaming water. The show they made of bathing you was no match for what you're sure they'll do for tomorrow. They stripped you of all your hair besides the stuff on your head, rubbed you with different oils, and tended to your nails– shaping and refining their anxiety-ridden state.
Finally, the handmaids dressed you in a thin, long-sleeved nightgown and allowed you to dismiss them for the night.
You thought their absence would help you process tonight's events without interruption, but the distraction of having them flit around you now seemed infinitely better than ruminating endlessly about Shigaraki and tomorrow night.
As you laid atop the quilted bedspread, your damp hair fanned out around you, you couldn't ignore the moonlight streaming in from the nearby window, washing you in a pale glow.
The full moon was said to give the werewolves more power. Tonight, only a pale crescent hung in the sky.
At least the wolves had one day of power. You had no influence over anything, no dominion of your own. You had told the steward you would be his lady soon, and it was true, but the title meant nothing. He had only heeded your request, as you were, for tonight, still the daughter of the King.
Your anxiety grew as the hours passed.
You tried to pray, but the words felt strange in your mouth. You tried to think of your mother, but that only made the room feel colder. You tried, briefly, to imagine tomorrow going painlessly, but even your imagination refused to be that generous.
So your mind went back to the boy.
To his face in the arena and to the way he had looked at you as if you were not a princess, not a stranger, not the daughter of an enemy king, but simply the only person in the room who might still be moved by suffering.
You hated him a little for that.
Not truly, and not fairly, but some small, frightened part of you hated that he had looked at you and made doing nothing impossible.
You also feared you had only prolonged the young male's death. If he survived tonight, they would just wake him up and deem him unfit to work in the stables, and Shigaraki would slaughter him without a second thought. And worse, he would make you watch. Another wedding “gift.”
As you stewed in your thoughts, new, risky ones began to come forward. After tomorrow, Shigaraki would have the rest of his life to torture you. What would be the harm in one small adventure– one you knew would irk him? A small laugh burst from your chest at the idea.
You slipped off the bed and stepped into your silk slippers, still stained with the blood you'd run through when chasing after the stewards.
Inside were the small things you had learned to keep with you whenever you wanted to become less noticeable: a few coins, a folded strip of linen, some herbs so you could pose as a real healer, a dull little knife that would be useless against a soldier but comforting to have nonetheless, and a vial of sleeping draught you had stolen months ago and never found a good enough reason to use.
Until now, perhaps.
You tied the bag beneath the cloak and listened at the door until the hallway beyond settled into quiet.
You were powerless as a princess, but that didn't mean you had to do nothing. Kneeling down by the one chest that still hadn't been unpacked yet, you dug through it to find the commoner's cloak you saved for sneaking into the market when you still lived at home.
You slipped the cloak on and grabbed the small hip bag that was stuffed under the bed.
You were owed a bit of fun before marrying such a monster. Even if the bit of fun involved actual monsters. The gorgeous blonde Alpha flashed through your mind.
You did not know whether you were going to help the boy, apologize to him, or simply prove to yourself that he had survived the night. Maybe that was foolish. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was the kind of small, useless rebellion a trapped woman invented when she could not bear the shape of her own future for one more minute.
You went anyway.
It was time to visit the kennels.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Your bag was heavy against your side as you slunk down the cold, stone halls. Everywhere you stepped, you came across another set of identical corridors to the ones you just explored. Shigaraki's castle was not only unpleasant in terms of ambience and chosen company, it was impossible to navigate.
Thankfully, no one was in the halls to watch you walk around in circles like an imbecile. Well, you weren't sure if you'd been in these halls before… How had it been so easy when you'd been walking back from the tunnels underneath the Pit?
You wandered for a little while longer before things started getting more familiar. Also, you began to see small traces of blood from where your skirts had dragged against the stone floor when you'd made the journey back to your room.
You followed the trail until you reached the top of the steps leading down to the kennels. Pulling the cloak's hood further down over your face, you began to descend the steps. You could already hear the giggling and squealing of women emanating from what was presumably the victor's kennels. The prostitutes.
Which was what you were going to be acting as until you found the young male's cell.
There were only two guards posted at the bottom of the steps. One of them had the individual cell keys strung on a ring hanging on a hook on his belt. All of them were silver.
They both turned as you came to a stop between them. They leaned forward, trying to see under your hood. “Another one, eh? I bet you're here for the big one, aren't ya?”
“Big one?” You asked in as sultry a tone you could muster. “Go on, do tell me more.”
“You'll find out in a minute, I reckon. He'll tear you apart, small as you are.” The one with the keys jeered.
“Really?” You said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his chest, chin ducked low. “This is my job, darling. You can't imagine the kinds of beasts I've taken in this line of work.”
“She'll be alright,” said the guard with the keys. He turned back towards you. “You know the rules, sweetheart?”
You nodded even though you had no idea. Thankfully, he listed them out anyway. “The key is silver. Burns 'em if it touches their skin. Use it if it's your life or his. Don't get knocked up, you hear me? Don't want to have to kill ya. You're for the big one, but the key opens any of them. Whatever you do, don't open the kennel of the burned one. Nasty demon, that one is.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” you said, laughing once. “Which one is mine?”
You had a feeling you knew who it was they had been talking about. You were nervous to see the Alpha again, this time so close… but maybe he'd have information on where they'd put the younger male. Hopefully it was somewhere nearby.
“The beast you'll be fucking is tall and has red eyes. Light colored hair, tattoos. Heard he's an Alpha,” the guard that was second-in-command.
“What else would he be?” The key-holder scoffed. “Did you even see him?” He paused, placing his palm low on your back and pressing a large silver key into your outstretched fingers with his other hand. “Best get on with it. Here's a key that opens any door, if you feel like having a go at any of the others first. Don't scream too loud, we aren't allowed to interrupt anyway unless they're killin' you. End of the hall, turn left. Last cell at the end.”
You stepped forward once, twice, until you were moving at a normal pace again. You had to work quickly– you didn't want your scheme to fall apart.
You made it to the end of the hall and turned left, like the guard said. The victor's kennels. You had never witnessed such debauchery in your life. There were moans coming from every woman in your line of sight– some of the males even had two women servicing them through the bars of their cells. Most males were growling loudly in pleasure as they fucked their prostitutes, but you noticed that some stood still as stone as the women touched them, refusing to reciprocate. As you slowly walked down the hall, everything began to blur into a whirlwind of teeth and claws, tongue and cock.
You'd never seen a cock before this. It was sort of liberating that the first cock you were seeing wasn't attached to Shigaraki.
“Here to join the fun?” A harsh voice called from a cell you were passing by. You looked up to see another tall, tattooed male– though his tattoos were of a different design than the rest of the werewolves.
He was also less muscular than the blonde and had black hair. What really caught your attention were the thick burns covering the skin of his forearms and chest. What you could see of it, anyway. He must've been the one with the burns that the guards warned you about.
“Aw, I've got myself an admirer,” the male said, pushing his face closer to the bars. His shirt opened wider, exposing the dark path of hair under his navel that trailed into his prisoner's breeches. You hadn't really ever concerned yourself with what you found to be attractive in a man, since you were only ever allowed to be around Shigaraki… but you supposed that was what you liked. And maybe the tattoos.
You looked away.
Truthfully, he was very handsome. When you looked back up at his face, you saw that he had the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. It was like looking into the purest ocean waters. He grinned, the expression a bit devilish.
You felt the urge to continue listening to this male, purely out of wanton curiosity, but you forced yourself to continue down the hall. “So I suppose you wouldn't happen to be holding my key, then? I'd like to see you under me…” you were almost past him, when you heard him whisper the last part of his sentence, “...princess.”
For a split second, the growling and panting from the werewolves ceased. Nobody would've even noticed or recognized the reason, but you knew why. Only because of what had happened earlier at the Pits, you knew that they had exceptional hearing. All of them had heard what the male had said to you.
The lustful sounds picked back up again. You supposed they, for some reason, knew you had a reason for being down here in disguise. They probably wanted to see how it would pan out.
You made it to the cell at the end. None of the victor's cells you'd walked by had contained the young boy, but as you came to a stop in front of the one at the end, you felt a sense of relief.
They'd put him with the blonde Alpha. Both of the males were still in the prisoner's breeches they'd worn in the pit, but donned nothing else.
The blonde's thick forearms were crossed over his chest as he stared you down. Your gaze fell to the male on the floor. “I'm… here to help.”
“None of yer shitty little herbs will fix him,” the Alpha said, his voice rumbly and rough.
You looked down at your bag– he must've been able to smell through the fabric. Your mother's words echoed in your head. “Giving up is easy, and you've never taken the easy route, have you?”
Good thing you had another trick up your sleeve.
“I… have something else in mind for him,” you said, slipping the silver key into the lock and pushing the door open.
A deep growl began to build at the back of the Alpha's throat. “It won't work. Y'll make it worse. Ya aren't a damn healer.”
“At least I'm not just watching him die,” You snapped, kneeling in the bed of straw where the young male was laying on his side.
“All y'did today was watch us die! For sport,” the Alpha snarled, curling his claws by his side. He was itching for violence, you could tell.
“You know I had no say in that,” you said quietly, brushing your hands against the younger male's abdomen. “I used all the power I had for this boy's life, and I will pay for it. I might as well make it count.”
The Alpha seemed angry all over again at your words, but like earlier in the Pits, it didn't feel directed towards you.
He couldn't be here while you worked… One final, devious idea leapt into your mind. You were the keyholder now– their fate was in your hands. The Alpha watched as you reached into your bag and ripped off a section of bandages and wrapped it around the key to their cell.
You held it out to him, almost as a peace offering. But he only stared, his red eyes coldly pinning you in place.
“Go on, take it. I heard silver hurts you. That's why I wrapped it.”
“Were y'sent down here to taunt me? That fucking crusty-faced bastard. I'll kill him and then I'll kill you, too–” The Alpha began to rage, but you interrupted his rant before it could make you any more annoyed at him than you already were.
“Oh, for God's sake, just take it!” You pried open his clawed hand and slapped it down onto his open palm. “It's a universal key. It opens all the cells. That way…” your eyes wandered around the cramped space before looking up at his deep red, narrowed gaze again.
“That way you can get your people out of here when I'm done,” you said quietly, taking off the cloak and unclasping the bag.
A whistle sounded from the cell diagonal from the one you were in. You didn't turn around. You knew who it was coming from. “So kind-hearted. Guess your betrothed was right about you.” There was a pause. “I wouldn't leave her alone looking like that if I were you, Bakugou.”
Bakugou whipped around, sneering at the scarred, dark-haired male. “Y'll be lucky if I unlock your cell at all, Patchwork.”
A deep, unbothered chuckle followed.
The Alpha, Bakugou, turned back to you, his expression agitated. A small growl tore through the air. He pointed a commandeering finger at you. “This has to be quick. I'll come back soon. And ya better fucking be here when I do.”
He stalked down the hall, and the repetitive, soft metallic clinking of key against lock soon followed.
You went back to the task at hand. Pressing your fingers against the boy's side, you could sense there were internal injuries to his organs. A concussion, some lacerations and contusions, a few broken ribs, and a punctured lung that was slowly filling up with blood and drowning him from the inside. A few knuckles had been popped out of place from some desperately-thrown punches, and both arms were sprained, but those were very minor injuries in comparison to the others he was sporting internally.
You whispered a small prayer to the Gods as you began pushing your energy through your fingertips and into the boy's body, rapidly speeding up the healing process.
Your mother had died before you could ever truly find out the explanation and cause behind your magic, but you'd practiced it often enough on your own to know that it worked when you needed it to. You'd known you would need it for times exactly like this one.
Your magic must've had something to do with speeding up adrenaline, speeding up blood flow, and releasing opioids. Or it was nothing scientific at all, and was simply a gift from the Gods.
The boy began to stir from under your fingertips, which meant something was working in the way you wanted it to. “Almost done,” you whispered, pressing your thumb against the young male's cheekbone, where a small fracture had caused a giant, black and blue bruise.
The blonde Alpha really didn't hold back, did he?
Maybe he had. Maybe he had held out as long as he could, hoping you would make a scene to stop the match.
You liked that thought better, but at the same time, hoped you weren't as easy to read as your mind was making you out to be.
The boy's eyes shot open, taking a second to focus on your face. “You,” he growled. He promptly took a savage swipe at your face, grazing your cheek as you fell backwards onto the straw.
He held his side as he came up into a kneeling position, baring his teeth. “What were you doing to me just now?”
“You are not nearly as grateful as I thought you'd be,” you said, your hand coming up to touch your cheek in shock. It was bleeding, but you could already feel the tingle of your magic healing it.
“I'll not ask again,” the boy said, his eyes flashing an eerie yellow as he started to reach for you once more.
“She was healin' you, ya little shit,” Bakugou's voice came from behind you. “Now, all I smell is her blood. Can y'tell me why that is, Kota?”
“How was I supposed to know that?” The young male spat angrily. “Her betrothed is the one who got us into this whole mess!”
“You know that the women in this part of the world don't get to choose who they mate with,” Bakugou said darkly, his manner of speech suddenly more serious and proper than it had been all night. The boy– Kota– swelled up in anger, but one look from Bakugou had him bowing his head in submission.
Was Kota part of Bakugou's pack? He must be to have had a reaction like that.
“Can I finish healing you now?” You asked, stifling a yawn. All the healing was taking its toll on you. You had to hurry this up and get back to your chambers before you got caught. “I have to go.”
You had given up trying to hide your magic from both males. Kota wasn't going to pass out again, and Bakugou was going to break out of the castle with his pack soon anyway, never to see you again. At least, you hoped Shigaraki never got ahold of him again. He would surely kill him, then.
Kota was silent, eyeing your glowing hands as they pressed into his side, before touching his temples briefly to mend the concussion. You didn't notice Kota's nostrils flare as you did so, and the look he sent Bakugou over your shoulder.
“You aren't going back,” Bakugou said, when you were finally done, hands by your sides.
“Where do you expect me to go? With the prostitutes?” You said dryly.
“No, I doubt you'd fit in with their lot. They ran off screaming the second the rest of us stepped out of the cells. Thought we were going to eat them.” Dabi was standing right outside the open cell door with a wide grin on his face. A bit manic, you noted. Maybe the idea the prostitutes had about the wolves eating them wasn't too far off when it came to him.
“Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you,” Kota muttered, looking at the wall with a glare.
“Careful, pup. Don't start forgetting your place in this world,” The dark-haired Alpha said, his white teeth gleaming under the torchlight.
“Don't talk to him,” Bakugou said to Dabi dismissively. “He isn't yours to manipulate.”
“What about her?” Dabi said, dipping his chin down at you. You were still sitting in the straw in your white nightgown– which they could undoubtedly see through with their wolf sight. His blue eyes wandered your body, trailing your cold skin and leaving behind a warm blush of embarrassment. He smirked.
“Don't even think about it,” Bakugou hissed, his stare also falling onto your form. He looked back at Dabi, whose lecherous stare was practically branding you. A second later, Bakugou hauled you off of the floor and pulled you against his shirtless chest. The height difference was intimidating and the close proximity made you shudder. His skin was like putting your hand above freshly lit coals, or your body near a bonfire during a cold night. It was… nice. You found yourself wanting to press your skin against his.
As you contemplated where indulging this urge would get you in life, the blonde Alpha leaned down and pressed his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. It was extremely intimate and incredibly unexpected, but you didn't pull away. His large hand was splayed across the small of your back, holding you close to him as a low rumbling started sounding from his chest. The other hand held your hip gently, careful not to let his claws pierce through the thin fabric and harm you.
You opened your eyes to see Kota looking away from the confusing display, his cheeks dark red. Dabi was staring openly with fiery lust lacing his expression. Bakugou was doing all this to challenge him? Dabi welcomed it.
When he finally pulled his face from your neck, the hand that rested on your hip grabbed your wrist and pulled it close to his lips. What was he doing now? When you looked into his eyes, they were orange. He opened his jaws, his sharp teeth scraping over the tender skin on your inner wrist before clamping down.
“Bakugou!” Kota said, suddenly on his feet and pulling at Bakugou's shoulder as the sharp teeth put more pressure on you, his tongue laving over your veins.
Dabi had taken a step forward as well, and that was all it took to make Bakugou snap out of his haze. He glanced at Dabi, then back at you, blinking rapidly.
He dropped your arm back to your side with a put out expression. “What are you? A fuckin' witch, or some shit?”
Dabi let out a hacking laugh at your appalled expression.
“Excuse me? You were the one sucking on my wrists and smelling me just now. Of your own volition, remember? All I've done is help you!”
Bakugou's ears grew red and he snatched your cloak and bag from off of the ground. “Whatever.” He shoved the items into your chest. “We're leavin'. My pack is grabbing the horses right now.”
“I– I thought you were joking! I can't leave! If I leave, the deal between Shigaraki and my father's kingdom falls apart!”
“Not if the common enemy takes you,” Bakugou said, hurrying you along as his long fingers swiftly buttoned your cloak. He tipped your chin up so you were eye to eye. “Isn't that right?”
“You don't want that. That's the force of two kingdoms raining hellfire down on your people. I am not worth the destruction that will cause.” You said. All three males exchanged weighted glances.
“We wouldn't be taking you with us if we didn't think you were worth the risk,” Bakugou said quietly. His face grew serious. “Don't fight this.”
So you didn't. You weren't going to fight someone who would ultimately be saving you from a doomed, torturous life with Shigaraki.
As you began to walk next to Bakugou, down the tunnel and towards the exit where the horses would be waiting, your eyes grew heavier and heavier, until you couldn't keep them open. The last thing you saw was a scarred arm reaching out to break your fall.