Chapter Text
"Shamrock." The tone of Father's voice has Shamrock's ears pressing against his head, a displeased hiss escaping through his lips. It's a tone that means that Father wants something from him. Something that has become especially tedious these past few years.
Shamrock is a Knight, a fully grown alpha. He serves Lord Imu as faithfully as Father does, follows Father's commands as Commander. But it is getting tiring, dealing with Father's other expectations.
Once again cursing his brother, Shamrock grabs the bookmark from the table next to him. Finishes his paragraph, before placing it and closing the book. Luckily he is not at a particularly exciting part. The ball has just started, they haven't even reached the first dance yet.
That makes Father's interruption bearable. If only just.
Handing the book off to be returned to its proper place, because Father doubtless has some task for him, Shamrock finally turns his full attention to where Father is standing in the door to his parlor. Immediately obvious is the fact that, despite how he'd normally be at least slightly irritated by Shamrock taking time to acknowledge him, he is very obviously pleased by something.
Hmm. Something good must have happened. Perhaps the traitor has finally been taken care of.
"Father." Shamrock nods slightly in greeting, though he doesn't bother to get up from the chaise. If he needed to go somewhere, Shamrock would have just been summoned.
"I have a gift for you, Shamrock."
"A gift." Shamrock hums, feels his tail twitch as he thinks. It has been some time since Father gifted him with anything. Shamrock already has anything he could ever ask for. And the flamboyance of his youth has long since been discarded as foolish and unnecessary.
Which means this is something Shamrock has not thought of, or does not need. Something Father obviously believes to be quite a prize. Hopefully it actually is worth the excitement.
"What have you prepared, Father?"
Father doesn't speak for a moment, instead just looking at Shamrock. Shamrock has no clue what for, there's nothing unusual about his clothes or anything he has done recently. No reason for any scrutiny.
Finally, though, he does speak.
"It came to my attention a while ago that, between your training as a knight and the troubles Shanks caused, that there are some things you have missed out on. Certain rites of passage that were, unfortunately, skipped."
Oh, Shamrock knows exactly what his Father is talking about now. He's heard about it enough from Sommers. How he's missing out, how it's such a wonderful thrill that he simply has to experience. How, as an alpha of his age and station, it's almost insane that he hasn't done it at least once.
And here he thought that Father's status as a beta meant that it would never occur to him. Such things should, after all, be meaningless to the likes of him.
That seems to have changed now, however.
So Shamrock relaxes back more fully, rolling his eyes. "No need to waste your time. While I might have looked forward to such things when I was younger, the idea holds little appeal now."
Shamrock has no need to prove himself. Nor any great lust to satisfy.
"Nonsense." The word is sharp, Father obviously not willing to listen to sense. "You haven't claimed any omegas to easy way, I know it's not laziness. So I know what you need is the challenge. You're a Conqueror, you'll make your own omega."
Shamrock rolls his eyes again. Bitching an alpha might be a common and expected indulgence, but nothing about it is a challenge. "Father, if I had any interest in wasting my time on a weak and drugged insect, I already would have."
And have the pet to prove it, a trophy like so many others keep. An omega whose ears and tail say predator, giving away just how they have been broken in.
Shamrock has no need for such a pet. It would just be a waste of his time.
"Oh, the ones I have selected for you should have enough fight in them to make things interesting. And if you want more of a challenge, fine. You can do things the old-fashioned way." Father chuckles, obviously pleased with himself. "It can be like one of those books you spend so much time reading."
Shamrock doubts that. These are alphas they are talking about, not omegas going into heat. And Father wants them to be his pets at most, not mates. Possibly for Shamrock to just bitch them and be done with them, though he probably expects hom to keep them as trophies for a while.
It's certainly not a romance that Father is proposing.
Perhaps he can make Father understand that, and he will drop this nonsense. "These aren't omegas for me to hunt through the estate."
"You've never shown any interest in having omegas, or participating in a good hunt."
He had, actually. Back when he was younger, before it became obvious how beneath him the whole notion is. Shamrock doesn't need anything from the Lower World, certainly not an omega.
And certainly not an alpha that he has to make into one.
"There is a reason for that, Father. I don't–"
"Enough, Shamrock. I've already acquired your future omegas. You'll have your challenge, they'll only be lightly drugged to make the susceptible to your rut. I'll even let them free in the area, so you can pin them however you wish. The Seastone and restraints on their haki will stay, but you can tame them as a Conqueror. They'll be ready tomorrow."
Father turns and leaves, obviously considering the matter settled.
And Shamrock really has little choice. While he could refuse, all that would do is create more of a headache. As it is, this will likely only take a week or so. He may even get an heir out of it, so that will be one less concern for later. It is a task that has slowly becoming more pressing over the years.
For now, though, he wants to get through the ball scene. Calm himself some. He doesn't have to worry about this until tomorrow, so he might as well enjoy himself until then.
He holds out his hand, it only takes a few seconds before The Shadowed Heart is dropped back into it. He eyes where his bookmark is placed, about a third of the way through. Perhaps he'll just finish it tonight. Maybe even start the next in the series.
Yes, Shamrock decides as he opens the book. Spending tonight reading is a good idea.
~
Shamrock is summoned to an unused wing of the mansion shortly after breakfast. Long enough that he can feel the pills that came with the meal starting to take affect, though not yet to an uncontrollable degree. He is still composed and in control of himself as he meets Father on the stairs, for all that his tail is twitching behind him.
Being outside of his rooms as he enters rut is uncomfortable. Father doesn't understand, of course, or he wouldn't be wasting his time lingering here in the hall. Normally this would at least be a more acceptable place, but so many people have many around to prepare this that the scent of all of them is enough that a low growl wants to form in the back of his throat.
Shamrock wants his own room. Where the lighting is to his preferences. The only strong scent is himself, accompanied only by the faintest but familiar scent of the slaves that clean his room. Not this mess of scents and dynamics that grate against his instincts. The lights too glaring. Nothing that is his.
"Shamrock." His left ear twitches in irritation at Father's tone, though he keeps his face calm. Father must notice though. "As I was saying, both of them were injected several hours ago. And then untied, as agreed. You won't be disturbed for the next week."
"Fine. Let me in already." This may not be particularly appealing, but he wants out of this hall. And the idea of pinning down an omega, making them submit and claiming them, is getting more and more tempting.
Father claps his shoulder and it takes all of Shamrock's self-control to not snarl at him. At the sudden invasion of his space and his person. Father should know better than to challenge Shamrock like this. He–
"Have a good time, son. I've cleared your schedule of any missions for the next two weeks, so if either of them keep your attention past this you'll have plenty of time." Father's grin is oddly wide and proud. Shamrock isn't sure the last time Father looked so pleased with him. "I've also made sure you have food for the next week, as well as some toys if you want to get creative."
Shamrock forces himself to nod, pulling his teeth out of his lips to reply. "Thank you, Father."
Shamrock can't think of anything else Father could possibly have to delay him with. And he wants to leave, wants the den he'll be spending this rut in. Away from everything grating.
Wants his omegas.
So he steps forward, not waiting for the slave to open the door, to instead walk inside and close it swiftly behind him.
The relief is immediate. Yes, there are still other scents in this suite. But some care has obviously been taken to remove most of them. Only two others are actually strong.
Strange, alpha and omega. To fight? To fuck? To force to submit beneath him, to make good for him.
The lighting is dimmer, here, as well. At least partially because the windows have been drawn shut and covered with thick wood. To prevent escape, of course. Secure against threats. He hears the click of the door locking behind him. Making it so that no one else can come in.
Good.
Now he just needs his soon-to-be omegas. He will make them submit and–
"Who are you and why the fuck do you look like Shanks?"