A slight, quiet vibration made Lightning grimace; her fingers curled around her wrist, something guilty and cold welling up at her at the reminder.

She glanced over her shoulder.

Just as she expected, everyone was asleep. After a long day of fighting their way this far, snores had filled the quiet clearing seconds after they'd made camp. No one protested when Lightning announced she'd be taking first watch, but that was to be expected; she'd insisted on doing so ever since their very first night thrown together, and now they knew better than to argue. Late to the party, Fang had tried to insist on taking on the responsibility a few times, but Lightning had stared her down, unblinking, voice hard. She knew her limits, and she was fine.

Not that Fang's offer wasn't without warrant; they'd only been on Gran Pulse for a few days, but the stories truly didn't do it justice—in both good and bad ways.

The monsters, she could certainly do without. It felt as if every inch of Gran Pulse was teeming with things that wanted to rip their throats out. Some living, some mechanical, all annoying. From what she'd heard Fang and Vanille say, it was clear that much, at least, hadn't changed in all their time away; she shuddered to imagine being a child living in such a hostile land, of raising Serah down here.

But it wasn't without its beauty. All of Cocoon was the result of meticulous planning and the direction of the fal'Cie. Everything about it was pretty, picturesque—and deeply artificial, a facet she could see now with exposure to the raw, untamed nature of Pulse.

Ever since the Purge train incident, Lightning felt as if every day brought some new revelation. This one, at least, wasn't completely world-altering. Just proof of how completely disconnected they were in Cocoon, how there wasn't a single aspect of their lives that wasn't dictated by the fal'Cie.

Nothing she hadn't learned a dozen times over by now.

Beneath her palm, the vibration stopped. No one was so much as twitching, out cold, and the sight of their stillness reassured Lightning enough to unzip the bag strapped to her thigh.

It was filled mostly with practical things: leftover ammo she couldn’t bring herself to part with, a few thin, tasteless ration bars, an extra knife. She'd left her medkit at Hope's house since having healing magic meant it had become dead weight.

But in the smallest pocket, she carried something more important than anything else: her suppressant patches.

Or rather—her last suppressant patches.

Lightning fished out the thin white bandage, secured in a neat, sterile plastic envelope. It was a pack of two, one for each side of her neck, and they were good for a solid forty-eight hours. Of course, adrenaline and high emotions meant that she went through them faster, even these military-grade ones.

She pinched the package between her first two fingers, holding it at eye level to better contemplate it beneath the flood of moonlight above.

Lightning had two options here: She could put these aside and tell the others the truth, or she used her last batch to buy some time.

The effort of maintaining this secret was so instinctive by now, the very thought of betraying it made her cold all over, made her heart shrivel in fear.

It was an irrational fear, she knew. She had a Pack now, people she'd fought and nearly died beside countless times, who would and had done the same for her. She couldn't imagine a single one of them sneering at her weakness or casting her aside. And the guilt didn't help, too, that she still wasn't being her true self, not fully. They'd been through so much, herself and this strange, crazy, wonderful Pack. Surely everything was overshadowed by being a l'Cie.

But that didn't stop her heart from hammering, just thinking about the truth spilling from her lips. Would she even be able to do it? Could she actually say the words?

Lightning told herself, Just try it now. Just a whisper. Everyone's asleep.

But all that did was make her heart race even faster in a painful clench of terror. Her other hand squeezed her pendant, seeking the strength of her namesake, but it was no use. She'd choke on the words before they came out.

Lightning cast one last glance over her shoulder, then quietly tugged down the zipper of her undershirt. She pulled the old patches off, shoved them into the bottom of her bag, then opened the new ones, peeling the backing carefully and sticking the thin gel patches against her scent glands.

It was funny, she'd never balked at doing what she had to before, but now that she'd been made Pack, putting on these patches never failed to make her feel like she was dirty, almost. A junkie with a shameful habit.

And it was annoying; she'd never asked for this, and lying to Serah was bad enough without piling an entire Pack on top of it. A Pack she'd tried her hardest to ignore, a Pack that had become family to her despite her best efforts.

What a joke.

Lightning shook her head at herself and zipped her shirt back up, eyelashes fluttering briefly from the cold, unsettling feel of the gel and the strong, chemical lingering scent of the suppressants, sure to fade long before she had to wake up someone for the next watch.

Fighting for her life was routine these days and she was certain she could milk that forty-eight hours to the last second. After that, the gel will have dissolved and nothing would prevent her natural scent from slipping through.

Lightning sighed, staring up at the moon. She'd cross that bridge when she got there.

Besides, Lightning Farron, Guardian Corp Seargent, an Omega?

No one would believe her anyways.

"Hey, Light." Hope's touch came at her arm, his pale green eyes filled with such sincere concern. He'd pitched his voice low, so as not to draw attention to them. "You okay?"

Hope had found a quiet moment to ask that every day since Lightning had confessed to being an Omega in Palumpolum. His attentiveness could have been just a way for him to find comfort in her, the Omega he felt the closest to.

But in truth, Hope was just a truly kind young boy, who'd meant it quite seriously when he vowed to watch her back. He knew about the patches, knew that Lightning insisted on the first watch so she could change them without worrying about anyone stumbling upon her secret.

He didn't like the patches and had earnestly and insistently told her of what he'd learned in school: that they risked neutralizing one's natural scent entirely, or make the wearer dangerously sick after repeated use—but Lightning had reassured him that she always felt fine.

She was actually worried that she'd be sick without them at this point. She'd been so young when she'd started suppressing, she'd spent more time on them than off.

But who was to say suppressants were truly so awful? Probably more fal'Cie propaganda, needed to keep their pets from thinking too clearly, from going too long undistracted by their hormones.

Gods, they'd all been so blind.

Lightning gave him a slight smile and set her hand on Hope's head. When she brushed her fingers through his hair and rubbed her thumb over the shell of his ear in a brief caress, his happiness was plain in his scent, washing light and sweet over her, his slight frown banished by a warm smile of his own.

For a brief moment, she considered telling him she was on her last patches. But there was nothing he could do, and there didn't seem to be much point in both of them being stressed.

"I'm fine," she promised.

Hope searched her eyes for a beat longer, as if making sure she wasn't lying, and then he nodded.

"Good," he said with a nod.

"Hey, Hope!"

Snow called from up ahead, waving urgently. He pointed up at a tree, where large, plump melons grew in bunches at the very top.

Hope sighed, like Snow was the unruly kid and he was the adult being run ragged.

"Duty calls," Hope said, and with one last wry smile, he jogged away. Lightning watched him go fondly.

"That kid sure is attached to you, huh?"

Lightning almost jumped, that's how soundless Fang's approach was; she shouldn't have been surprised, she knew Fang had a background as a hunter and her footsteps were just as silent as when they'd first met. And here on Pulse, she was on home turf, too.

"...I guess," Lightning said diffidently. She crossed her arms and went back to spectate the way Snow was trying to coerce Hope into letting him throw him high enough to reach the fruit. "But I'm pretty attached to him, too. So." She shrugged. "It works out."

"Hm," Fang just hummed, but Lightning could hear the smile on her lips. "Wonder if I should be offended, then. Must not be doing my job right."

Thankfully, it was easy to tell that Fang was teasing. Fang was always teasing, and it frustrated Lightning sometimes, not knowing where the hell Fang stood, but right now she was grateful for that easy-going personality.

Other Pack Alphas might have made a bigger deal about it, or even challenged Lightning over it, even though everyone thought she was a Beta.

Hope was (to everyone's knowledge) one of their two precious Omegas. Him gravitating to Lightning so often instead of their Pack Alpha—or even Vanille, their other Omega—could be seen as a challenge in and of itself.

Of course, if everyone knew Lightning was an Omega, they wouldn't bat an eye at their bond. Of course, Hope sought her out, it was only natural.

But they didn't know, and right now it was only Fang who seemed to have really noticed, but how long before the others did?

Lightning could practically feel the stress of that train of thought thinning her patches.

"Hope knows who his Alpha is," Lightning assured, voice dismissive. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Yeah?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fang turn to face her fully, one fist braced on her hip. "And do you?"

That made Lightning glance at her sharply.

Fang's expression was one of rare seriousness, her eyes staring straight into Lightning's with unnerving focus. The force of her gaze was heavy, made Lightning's fingers dig harder into her arms and her heart leap into her throat.

She narrowed her gaze back, wary; disturbed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well..." Fang looked her up and down, shoulders rolling in a kind of shrug, but the way she watched Lightning kept her from looking like her usual, irreverent self. "You don't treat me like Pack Alpha," Fang pointed out, and Lightning froze. "You don't come to me, or take orders well. I mean, hell, you decked me in the face the first time we met!"

"You deserved it," Lightning said automatically, tearing her eyes away. All of a sudden, she was certain that if she looked into Fang's for too long, Fang would see the truth in hers.

"And I'm not arguing," Fang said, holding her palms out. "But the rest of it? It's weird. You're weird. The way you act, even your scent." She sniffed, pointedly, and Lighting wondered what she smelled; a particularly unassuming Beta? Maybe the lingering chemical notes of her suppressants? "And I thought Snow would be the biggest problem," Fang continued, jerking a thumb over at him, "But I had him down before he knew what happened. Not a peep from him since."

Gods, Lightning wished she could have seen that fight. The moment they'd been made l'Cie, the brands and the pack bonds had snapped into place in an instant. It had nearly been enough to make her vomit, Snow being the defacto Pack leader. Waking up to that forced bond in her head, of weak, but no less present instincts identifying him as her leader.

She'd lost her temper. Punched him a few times, too. Leaving him behind with Serah's crystal had been for the best, if only to keep her from strangling him. And when they'd met again? When he'd arrived aboard that airship in Palumpolum to save them from the Sanctum, that flashy entrance had flooded Lightning with relief; not for the rescue, but how the moment he and Fang had hopped off Snow's eidolon, she'd felt the status change in their bond—Snow demoted to just another Alpha in their pack, and this exotic looking stranger in his place.

Snow technically had his own Pack, that embarrassment that went by N.O.R.A., but instincts were instincts, and no matter how Fang demurred, he would have fought hard to stay leader. Fang really must have handed him his ass.

But the fact that he'd never challenged Fang for the position again? It was telling. Less of Snow letting it lie because he didn't care, or didn't want the title, but more an indication of Fang's strength as an Alpha. Lightning was nearly a null at this point, and even she could smell the Alpha on Fang. Maybe it was Gran Pulse thing. Maybe it was a Fang thing.

Either way, just having her too close made Lightning cling to her suppressants.

Lightning outright glared at Fang.

"Just because I'm not falling over myself trying to kiss your feet doesn't mean I'm not a team player. If you expect me to call you Alpha all the time and beg for your attention, you'll just have to be disappointed."

Lightning focused back on the others, where Snow had found a willing participant and was now flinging Vanille as high as he could. Hope had retreated to a safe distance to supervise with Sazh, healing magic ready and waiting at his fingertips. Smart boy.

Fang took a step closer. She hadn't taken her attention off Lightning once since they'd started talking, which seemed—optimistic, to the point of recklessness; Vanille was in Snow's clutches after all.

"You could call me Alpha sometimes, though," Fang proposed in a low voice, and when Lightning shot another look at her, Fang's smile was this awful smirk, her green eyes dark and mischievous. "Couldn't you?"

Lightning felt her face warm; she glared harder. "I'd rather die," she said flatly.

Fang only grinned wider.

"Oh?"

To Lightning's alarm, Fang bent at the waist, face hovering far, far too close.

"Whatever it is you're hiding," she said quietly, and Lightning’s breath hitched. Her entire body turned to stone. "I'll sniff it out eventually."

Fang tapped her nose significantly, then straightened back up, casual as can be. "I'm an excellent hunter," she promised with a wink.

It took a moment for Lightning to find her voice, stunned by Fang's there and gone again proximity, her heavy gaze, her audacity.

…Fuck. Fucking fuck!

"...You're crazy," Lightning muttered. She walked away—sedate, not at all hurried—and tried to ignore the weight of Fang's eyes on her all the way.

Maybe Fang's threat should have convinced her that the jig was already up, that she should just confess and get it over with; it only made her dig her heels in more, defensive, more afraid than ever. 

Because—Fang had hit the nail on the head. Lightning was weird. She'd been weird her entire life. She'd suppressed her true nature since she was a kid and she didn't know the first thing about being an Omega. She hadn't had a heat in over a decade and she suppressed so constantly she didn't even know what her natural scent was.

She'd raised Serah the best she could, but she didn't have those instincts that made for good Omegas. She wasn't soft or particularly kind or sought after when someone wanted to be comforted. She was firm. Abrupt. 

Cold. 

No matter how you shook it, she was...damaged goods. Once the truth came out, that's how they would see her. She didn't fit the standard at all, and the way they'd look at her, pitying and confused and maybe even a little disgusted—she couldn't bear it. 

The patches stayed on. They continued their journey to Oerba. Fang watched her during the day, and Lightning kept watch at night. 

Lightning didn't say a word—not to Fang, period—and not to anyone about her secret.

And then the choice was taken out of her hands.

Lightning woke in the early hours of morning, the sky just barely lightened from the pitch black of undisturbed darkness, sunrise still hours away.

Pain made her breath catch, eyes snapping open. 

For a moment, she thought she was being attacked in some way. That some Pulse monstrosity had snuck up on their camp and had poisoned her.

But no, her alarmed, wildly searching eyes didn't find anything, and it came again, a weird, stabbing clench deep inside that made her wince.

She pushed herself upright—halfway through the motion before she had to slow it way down since the sudden movement made her feel immediately sick.

What—?!

That was when she became aware of the uncomfortable itch and burning, at first so dwarfed by the pain in her guts she'd barely noticed it. But she did now, one hand staying low, pressed to her stomach, while the other flew up to her neck—where the skin beneath her patches throbbed.

Lightning barely had to brush her fingers over the fabric covering her patches to know her time was running out. The patches were so thin now she could barely feel them, her suppressants all but spent.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck fuck fucking fuck!

"You all right?"

Lightning's head snapped up, immediately releasing her hold on herself—too fast, giving herself away. Fang was watching her on the other side of their smoldering campfire, seated on a fallen tree. Her spear rested between her legs, tucked against her neck.

Her thin black eyebrows were pinched together, her eyes unblinkingly focused and narrowed in concern. Lightning's heart gave a painful lurch.

"F-fine," she answered just as quietly, voice rough and thin; from sleep, she hoped Fang would assume. She looked away, emptying herself of any outward emotion. "Just—a nightmare."

Fang standing brought Lightning's attention back to her, and it was a struggle not to visibly balk, to not scramble back when Fang threaded through their sleeping Pack and kneeled in front of her, those piercing eyes sweeping her from head to toe.

"You smell a bit off," Fang murmured, and Lightning's hand curled into a fist, hidden behind her hip. She's just worried—that's what Pack does. She doesn't know. "You comin' down with something?" Fang asked, and she reached out, the back of her hand coming to Lightning's forehead—

Panic flooded her veins. Lightning moved automatically, swatting away Fang's arm with the back of her wrist in a movement just a little too aggressive, practically flinging the touch away.

Fang's eyes went wide, then narrowed; Lightning's heart pounded so hard it felt like all she could hear. Nausea resurged from the sudden movement, another stab of pain deep inside.

She felt cold, disgustingly weak—bile like a lump in the back of her throat.

"Light—" Fang started, reproach in her tone.

"I said I'm fine," she said in a hard tone, and she stood before Fang could say anything else, fast and jerky and with the desperate need to get away. The urge to curl up in a ball and try to hold herself together against the pain was growing with every passing second. "I need to—piss."

Lighting hurried away, ready to break into a dead sprint if she heard Fang take a single footstep to follow her—but she didn't hear anything, and a moment later, she was swallowed by the dense forest they'd made their latest camp in.

She knew better than to go too far, but she pushed herself as far as she could until another cramp brought her to a knee, fingers digging into the bark of a nearby tree.

Not now. Please, not now. 

They were so close to Oerba. Vanille had taken forever to fall asleep, so excited by the thought that by midday, she'd be back home. A few hours, and the vague hope of help, of guidance, could be in their grasp. A way to fight back, maybe even just a way back up to Cocoon so Lightning could tell the fal'Cie where it could shove this Focus of theirs.

Beneath her patches, Lightning could feel the painful creep of a simmering burn, her glands inflamed in protest. She wanted to peel them off, just for the relief of letting her skin breathe, but she didn't dare. Those thin little squares, her vest, zipped up tight—those were her last lines of defense now.

When her muscles clenched again, chasing sparks of pain through what felt like every one of her nerve endings, Lightning couldn't hold back a quiet whimper, finally caving into the urge to curl up there on the forest floor, forehead brushing blades of grass. 

She'd only ever had the one heat—her very first, when she'd presented. But it had been such a singularly awful experience, she could never forget the feeling. It had been bad then, holing herself up in the dark, aching for something she knew she truly didn't want, so scared that someone might stop by and find out—

Her one saving grace was that Serah had been too young to understand. Serah had presented early, while Lightning had presented late; Lightning had recognized the signs, having helped Serah through her own first heat, and she'd sent Serah away to stay with a neighbor, claiming she was sick.

It was a pathetic excuse, but one Serah had never thought to question. After all, Lightning looked out for her, Lightning took care of her—why would she lie?

But she had to. Serah being an Omega was one thing—Lightning knew it made her vulnerable, made her the target of leering Alphas and opportunists who might take advantage, but she could handle that. Her vow to protect her sister meant anyone who wanted to hurt Serah would have to go through her.

Lightning being an Omega was another thing entirely. She simply couldn't afford to be one. She'd joined the army under false pretenses, lied about her age, and worked her ass off to get fast-tracked through the main corp to secure a good position in the infantry. She hadn't presented yet, but that hadn't been an issue. She'd shown a lot of promise as a fighter, and it was expected that she'd present as an Alpha, or even a particularly independent Beta, strong and dutiful and with all the aptitude of a natural protector.

As an Omega? Her military career would have been over before it began. Omegas weren't allowed in the military, but that was the only job she could get without any sort of diploma that would let her take care of Serah. The benefits were countless—they'd provide housing, a food budget, access to the best medical care, the promise of climbing the ranks and ensuring she had the means to give Serah any kind of future she wanted—it was a no-brainer.

But the moment it was discovered that their household was just two Omegas, living alone, completely independent? It would have been over, simple as that. Such a thing was unheard of. Omegas needed minders, guardians; she knew the system. 

She and Serah would become wards of Cocoon. They'd be placed in group housing with other displaced Omegas. They'd be adopted—and almost certainly separated.

It was a risk Lightning refused to entertain for even a second. No one would care for Serah like she would. No one would protect her like Lightning would.

So she'd endured her first heat alone, rode it out with gritted teeth, and the moment it was over, she'd scrubbed herself raw in the shower, bundled up so tightly not even a wisp of her natural scent could escape, and gone straight to the nearest pharmacy for the strongest over-the-counter suppressants she could find. She'd ordered her prescription under the name 'Lightning' for the very first time that day, and she'd buried Claire—the useless, pathetic Omega—in the same breath. Lightning didn't need her, couldn't afford her. Not anymore.

She'd gotten better at hiding it over the years, made even easier fact that by being military, she had access to even higher-grade suppressants than anything a civilian could get their hands on. And life was fine after that. Life was good. Serah didn't want for anything and their lives were stable, the break they needed after their mom died.

She'd been content to live the rest of her life as a high-ranking Guardian Corp Beta, but then the fal'Cie had to turn their gaze on Serah.

And now here she was, on the verge of a heat she was in no way prepared for, that she didn't have time for—Cocoon and their precious, endless supply of suppressant meds just a glance away, yet so far.

Lightning shuddered, took a deep breath, and pressed her palms into the ground. One breath, two, and she pushed herself up from her hunch. She already felt like shit and her suppressants had only just worn off. She balked at even imagining what the next few hours would bring.

It doesn't matter, she told herself. The cramps sucked, but they were—manageable. If she breathed through the waves and focused on her goals—get back to Cocoon, hold a pharmacist at gunpoint if she had to, kill the fal-Cie—she would be fine. Pain was just another obstacle.

A sudden touch on her shoulder scared her so bad she gasped aloud. 

Lightning jerked back, hand already flying to her weapon—

A firm grip came around her wrist, warm and tight. She looked up, straight into familiar dark green eyes.

"F-Fang," she muttered, surprised, alarmed. She wasn't ready yet, she hadn't—hadn't pulled herself together—

"None of that now," Fang chided, but there was nothing sharp in her tone. Her scent washed over Lightning, comforting and strong Alpha spice, assuring her she was safe. Despite herself, Lightning felt it working and her shoulders fell, just a little. 

Fang's eyebrows came together as she took Lightning in, and she released Lightning's wrist so her fingers could slip, cool and smooth, beneath her chin.

"I knew it," Fang said quietly, certain. "I knew something was wrong." 

Fuck. "I'm—"

"Fine? Yeah, I can see that," Fang snorted, and her mocking tone made Lightning bristle. 

A retort was there on her lips, but then Fang's hand shifted, fingertips sliding through her hair, thumb stroking the curve of her ear—a mirror to the same affectionate caress Lightning had given Hope.

It was such a small thing, but it alleviated the pain for one perfect moment. Her body was flooded by the attention Fang was giving her, the approval and care and protection of an Alpha—her Pack Alpha. Her eyes fluttered and relief made her sigh.

"It's all right," Fang told her in a low, soothing murmur. "I've got ya. It's okay."

Lightning blinked, tried to pull herself back together. "W-wait. You don't—"

"Shh," Fang cupped her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks in a gentle caress. Lightning went mute beneath the attention, the warmth of Fang's hand. "You're thinking too much."

Fang came even closer, her bent knees falling open so she could part them over Lightning's lap. She seemed to loom over Lightning there, a warm wall of heat in front of her, warm hands anchoring her so Lightning couldn't go far, shoulders bowed as if to shield her from the rest of the world.

Such small things, but they chased pleasure and relief through Lightning's veins, made her sigh, low and shuddering as the pain seemed to drain away. Her hands, before hovering uncertainly, fell until her fingertips brushed Fang's thighs, and she found herself arching closer, eyelids growing heavy as she let her face rest in Fang's palms.

"There's a good girl," Fang rumbled, voice hitting that low register that meant she was sinking into her own instincts. She sounded so good, felt so good, Lightning melted even further. "You've needed this for a long while, haven't ya? Had plenty of chances to come to me, don't know why you haven't. Everyone else has." Fang's voice went thoughtful, but she didn't stop her doting touches, the soft caresses, the way she'd occasionally let her fingers stray further so she could run her hands through Lightning's hair. "'S good, right? Letting your Pack Alpha take care of you?"

Pack Alpha. Something about hearing Fang say that aloud made her face warm, made all of her feel warm. Fang was her Pack Alpha, a good one. Strong and brave and smart, and she was taking care of Lightning now, had noticed something was wrong and hadn't let anything stop her from helping.

Unable to speak from the warm, syrupy pleasure she found herself swimming in, Lightning nodded, biting her lip. It was good...

Satisfaction weaved through Fang's scent plain as day, lulled Lightning even further into blissful surrender.

"Stubborn one, aren't ya?" Fang observed quietly, amused. "Nice and sweet now, though." Her approval washed over Lightning, made her head grow fuzzy. She'd never felt anything like it, never let an Alpha close enough to even try. "What kept you away, huh? Why didn't you let me help sooner?"

"Because," Lightning was speaking before she'd really chosen to do so, lips falling open with the urgent need to appease her Alpha. Her eyes fluttered open, "I'm—"

Looking up at Fang made her heart stop. It was what she glimpsed in Fang's eyes, that intense, unblinking focus, her blown pupils, the way she was so close that it felt as if Fang's eyes were searing straight into the heart of her.

It wasn't the first time she'd thought Fang was attractive, but it was the first time that thought tore through her so violently it stole her breath.

And it terrified her, enough that clarity banished the haze that had fallen over her.

What the hell am I doing?!

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Ripping herself away from Fang's touch felt like she was tearing off a limb. With distance, pain immediately flooded back, the stabbing cramps, the nausea crawling up her throat, the burn of her glands—it made her sway for just an instant before she caught herself, refusing to be weak.

Fang stared up at her from her crouch there on the forest floor, hands still outstretched from where she'd been holding Lightning. That confused pinch was back between her eyes, turning down her lips in a deep frown.

"Light—"

Her gun blade was out in the time it took to blink, pointed right at Fang's throat.

"Touch me again, and I'll cut your hand off," Lightning promised, voice hard and cold.

She didn't wait for Fang's response. Lightning turned around and all but ran back to camp, shaken and sick to her stomach—only partly because of the pain clenching deep inside.

That was close. Too fucking close.

It was almost funny, the way Hope latched onto her practically the moment he woke up. One look at her, and he was erasing the distance between them, makeshift bed forgotten.

"What is it? Light?" His pale eyes stared up at her, so very plainly worried. His nose wrinkled imperceptibly before smoothing. "You smell...off," he murmured.

Lightning's gaze darted around their loose circle, carefully skirting over Fang entirely. No one was close enough to hear as long as they kept their voices down.

"Like an Omega?" she asked, frowning.

"No, no," Hope said immediately, shaking his head. "Just—weird. Kind of sick, maybe? Is everything all right?"

Sick, huh? Explained why Fang had been so...affectionate, but hadn't seemed to realize...

Lightning sighed. No use trying to hide it.

"My... suppressants ran out."

"Oh." Hope blinked up at her, shocked. He chewed on his lip for a moment. "Do you...What are we gonna do?"

"Nothing," Lightning said with a blitheness she certainly didn't feel.

"Nothing?! Light—!"

"There's nothing we can do, Hope." She met Hope's eyes, feeling a stiff breeze away from collapsing, but tried her best to smile through it. "Look, this doesn't change anything. We still need to get to Oerba, and we're still Pulse l'Cie. Suppressants or not, we've got bigger problems to worry about."

"I know, but..." Hope trailed off, looking lost. He searched Lightning's eyes after a pause, brows furrowed. "What does that mean for you? Right now? You've never been off them..."

Lightning grimaced. "It doesn't feel great, I'll tell you that much," she said with as much wryness as she could muster. "But I'll get through it. I always do."

"All right..."

Yet, despite agreeing, Hope stayed practically glued to her side. But he was a subtle hand when she stumbled, a calm, reassuring presence when she felt unsteady—as the day stretched and her glands burned, her muscles ached and the random bouts of nausea and cramps washed over her, she was glad for it.

Everyone else—not so much.

Fang, of course, was still keeping an eye on her, gaze more serious than ever, more suspicious than ever. She wasn't outright glaring, but it was a close thing. Vanille had picked up on it and had been shooting Lightning curious glances all day, head tilted in that childish, transparently puzzled way she had. Lightning ignored them both, and if she clutched Hope's hand in a tight spasm of a flinch when a particularly vicious cramp hit her, at least no one else seemed to notice.

Snow was almost worse, somehow. He was like a vulture, swinging around to circle her and Hope throughout their trek, and though he often teased Hope about taking all of Lightning's attention, or tried to goad him into going off on some little side adventure, his gaze often lingered on Lightning like he couldn't help it.

It made Lightning scowl, every time, and when he finally seemed to register her expression, that he was staring, he'd sheepishly laugh or scratch his head, and then move back up to the front of the Pack—until he eventually started the whole cycle all over again.

"Hey, Sis?"

"I'm not your sister," Lightning said, the words practically instinct at this point.

As always, Snow didn't even acknowledge the denial. "You...all right? Need anything? I got food if you want some, or water. We can stop for a minute if you—"

"Do I look like I need or want your help, Snow?" Lightning bit out, the very idea of being cared for by Snow making her skin crawl.

Snow raised his palms, backing down immediately. "I just thought I'd offer! You just..." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You look pretty pale, and you're usually at the front of the Pack..."

Lightning pressed her lips together, reaching for some last scrap of patience.

"I'm fine, Snow. You're just imagining things."

"Uh-huh." Doubt dripped from his tone, but another glare seemed to keep him from pressing. "All right, all right, I'm going!"

Lightning watched him jog ahead, eyes narrowed. What a headache...

"Light..." Hope started, worried.

"I know," Lightning murmured back. If even Snow was starting to notice, it was only a matter of time before it was obvious. No one had caught on just yet, but their instincts knew even before they did.

Sazh was easily the most tolerable. He'd drifted to her side just the one time, his dark brown eyes worried and considering.

"Need anything from me?" he'd asked, not overbearing, not pressing. Just offering what he could, the only calm, level-headed Alpha Lightning had met in her life.

"I'm fine." She'd relented under his continued, concerned stare. "But...thanks."

Sazh had nodded, lips quirking up in an encouraging smile, meant to cheer her. "Anytime, soldier girl, anytime. Just let me know."

When they stopped to eat, Lightning looked around at them all, the confession on the tip of her tongue. 

I'm an Omega. 

.

.

.

The words wouldn't come. It felt too much like admitting weakness, like letting them down. Exposing herself as the worst kind of fraud, and to their judgment. 

They finished eating, the opportunity passed her by, and they kept moving.

Oerba revealed itself to be a dead end—devoid of life or any means to get back to Cocoon. It was a place filled with ghosts, the leftover signs of life left to atrophy, seeped of color in their long, sun-bleached years of abandonment.

Outside, they considered their next move. 

Well, everyone else considered. Lightning focused on not throwing up.

Slow breaths through the mouth, she told herself, gaze unseeing on the cracked pavement under her feet. Slow breaths.

"This isn't the whole village!" Vanille was insisting. "We should check out the school!"

"No one's been here in a long time," Sazh countered, ever the voice of reason. "Without a fal'Cie to protect them, everyone up and left. Can't say I blame them, but it does mean we're not finding a ship anywhere near here."

"But—!"

The words washed over Lightning, barely heard. Her cramps had begun to transition into something worse, a dull, throbbing ache that radiated from head to toe. Her breaths came shorter despite how she tried to regulate them, and she was so hot.

And then, without any warning at all, she felt a horrible, painful clench; a burst of agony so sharp it raced up her spine and brought her down—hand tearing away from Hope's, palms slapping on the ground—crying out even as she felt it: 

The seep of slick between her legs, the first stirrings of unbearable, burning arousal.

The loud, grating racket of everyone's voices pulled her from her internal agony, and when she cracked open her eyes, she knew her secret was out.

It was obvious in the circle of wide eyes, the shock and disbelief and even horror. Even worse, she could finally smell herself, free of any inhibitors, of any suppressants—the sickening scent of a frail, upset, ill Omega.

Fuck! She was supposed to have more time. No! NO! 

"Light!" Hope was there, the only one who wasn't looking at her like she was a freak. He fell to his knees at her side, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other hovering over her neck. 

She could feel the healing magic he tried to pour into her, but it felt like a flash, there and gone again before it could take hold.

"It's not working," Hope sounded almost as desperate as she felt. "Light, you're going into heat!"

Hearing it was awful. An outside confirmation of something she knew but didn't want to face. No choice now.

"Shit," she whispered, eyes screwed shut. 

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" Sazh's incredulous exclamation seemed to snap the rest of them out of it, because then they were all speaking at once.

Vanille, surprised: "I had no idea! Lightning, all this time—?"

Fang, sounding dazed: "That...that explains a lot—"

Snow, pissed off, radiating anger so strongly that Lightning flinched back: "NO, no there is NO WAY Light's—She's not—I would KNOW—"

It was too much. All of it. Losing Serah, being branded a l'Cie, all of the people who'd died, some she'd killed, some who'd died just from being near her, being told her Focus was to end the world, finding herself forcibly pack-bonded to a group of strangers, outed as an Omega in the same moment her heat started—it

was

too

MUCH

Her brand burned hotter than the rest of her, the white-hot glow making her scream as Odin burst from the prison of her mark.

Startled shouts echoed in Oerba's empty streets and Lightning looked up in time to see everyone sent flying from the arcs of defensive magic.

Like a tower made of ivory and gold, Odin stood tall and proud. And when everyone got back to their feet, he took a protective stance in front of Lightning, shield raised, sword up.

And then he stood there. Waiting. Silently challenging any of them to get closer.

Another wave of heat tore Lightning's gaze away, arms wrapped around herself. Everything hurt and they were angry and she was vulnerable and all she had was Odin, there was no cover and her heat felt like it was punishing her, a scorching fire that she could barely breathe through.

She couldn't do this. She just couldn't, the heat would kill her at this rate and she'd never get the chance to see Serah again—

Odin moved, jerking her attention back to the present. He'd shifted, one leg braced back as he moved into a ready stance, sword held aloft. 

Fang was moving closer, a hand thrust behind her, urging the others back where they all looked on, worried and wary. Fang didn't look away, didn't even blink as she took inching steps forward, meeting Odin's gaze resolutely.

"Easy there, big guy," Fang cautioned. She deliberately stowed her lance away at her back, then raised her palms. Her expression was calm yet serious and she took another tentative step forward. "I'm just here to help, promise. I won't hurt her."

One more step, and then Odin struck—not at Fang, but at the ground just where her foot would have fallen, scoring a deep, gouging line in the cracked pavement. A warning.

Part of Lightning knew that this was a delay they couldn't afford, but the sight of Odin defending her made the scared, irrational part of her—the Omega part—so relieved. No one was getting to her, not past him.

Fang stopped moving, her expression going tight. She glared up at Odin for a beat, then her gaze fell to Lightning.

The look in her eyes made Lightning still. The second they made eye contact, Fang's gaze softened in a way she'd never seen before. Patient and understanding, when she should have been so outraged, so upset.

"Hey, Light," Fang said, like it was just the two of them catching up after a long day. She knelt right there, elbow braced on a knee, calm and steady. "You all right there?"

Lightning didn't say a word, just stared. Waiting for the frustration, the annoyance, the demand to obey. Lightning's arms were wrapped around her stomach, fingers twisted in the fabric of her clothes, clutching so tight she shook with it, but if she loosened her grip for even a moment, she'd fly apart, she was sure of it.

Fang nodded like Lightning had replied. 

"It's a lot, isn't it? Too much. I get it. You must be in so much pain," and Fang even sounded sympathetic, like she understood. The low, calm tone of her voice helped slow the erratic beat of Lightning's heart, helped her think past the rush of panic even as that low cadence made her eyes sting. 

Fang knocked her knuckles on the pavement, shooting a quick glance at Odin.

"I know you must be scared, Light. Confused. But focus on me." Lightning did, if for no other reason than to cling to the stability Fang was offering in a world suddenly gone turbulent and terrible. Fang's firm, piercing eyes grounded her. "I can't imagine how hard it's been for you," Fang murmured, quiet enough that there was no chance the others could hear her. Words just meant for the two of them. "It's all right now. I'm here."

The steadiness of Fang's presence helped pull Lightning back from the edge, but that only meant shame and fear, her contrition and mortified anger, was there to swamp her the moment a semblance of sense returned to her. 

"Hey, hey," Fang was quick to say, as if she could see the doubts piling up in Lightning's eyes; like this, she could probably smell it on Lightning. "None of that, all right? Focus on me." 

It took effort, but Lightning managed to meet Fang's eyes again, panting, too hot, in so much pain.

"I-I'm sorry—" she started, but Fang shook her head.

"That doesn't matter right now," Fang interrupted. "What matters is your safety, yeah?"

Safety. Lightning wanted to be safe so badly it ached.

"You have my word, Lightning," Fang said, voice solemn as the grave, "No one will touch you without your say so. You have my word as Pack Alpha. But we need to get you out of the open, okay? We need to move, now."

Lightning knew she was right. Gran Pulse was a wild place, every inch crawling with all sorts of monsters, and her scent was being broadcast like a beacon out here in the open. Almost guaranteed to bring all sorts on them; they'd be swamped in Cieth before they could blink.

Lightning ducked her head. Reached deep for a measure of calm. This was happening, whether she wanted it to or not.

With agonizing slowness, Lightning pressed her palms to the sun-baked pavement and pushed herself up. Every single moment of it hurt and she could feel Fang's eyes on her, could practically taste her frustration—not with Lightning, but the very large, very armed obstacle that kept her from helping.

When Lightning stood at last, she swayed dangerously—but just managed to keep her footing. She couldn't catch the pained whine that slipped past her clenched teeth, shoulders bowed, fists buried deep in her gut. Fuck, she couldn't believe the pain...

"Let me through," Fang all but demanded, and when Lightning brought her gaze back up, it was to see Fang glaring up at Odin. "I'll protect her."

Odin stared down at her, his unmoving, marble face blank.

His head turned, and he seemed to be assessing Lightning. Prodding her emotions, she knew, since he'd been summoned just like the first time, in defense of her roiling thoughts.

Lightning just stared back, helplessly conflicted. She knew that she didn't truly need him, not against her own Pack, but she couldn't deny that she was scared to be without him, of what the immediate future would hold without him there to hold anyone and everyone back.

Her hesitance seemed to be answer enough. In the blink of an eye, Odin shattered in a bright explosion of rosette crystal shards, gone before she could prepare herself.

It made her freeze, a new wash of terror sweeping through her. She was alone, in heat, defenseless.

Instead of rushing forward and snatching Lightning up like she'd half expected, Fang approached cautiously, hands outstretched as if Lightning teetered on the edge of a cliff.

"Just look into my eyes," Fang coaxed. "You'll be all right, Lightning. I'll take care of you. You're safe."

Lightning stared into Fang's eyes as she was bid, half clinging to that promise, half wary of—anything that Fang might do. The moment her soft expression twisted into a sneer. The moment her scent soured with disgust, with anger.

But that moment never came. Fang came close enough that her shadow washed over Lightning, blotting out the harsh overhead sun. Her fingers were featherlight as they skated up Lightning's trembling arms.

"Okay?" Fang asked, keeping her touch gentle. She clasped Lightning, swept her palms over her skin to her neck, where she took Lightning's face in her hands and caressed her face—just as she had the night before.

It wasn't the cure-all it had been before, but it was still a relief, this attention from a strong Alpha, the soft, doting touch. Lightning sucked in a shuddering, unsteady breath just from that. She shook even harder.

"Gonna pick you up now, okay?" Fang didn't wait for her approval and swept Lightning off her feet in a second, one arm braced beneath her knees, the other at Lightning's back.

Lightning couldn't contain her gasp, the way she locked up, but when Fang just stood there, making quiet, shushing noises to soothe her, she wearily sank into the hold. Fang's scent seemed to envelop her, promising safety and peace, the confidence of an Alpha who would make all the bad go away, and in the midst of this awful, burning heat, Lightning didn't even try to put up a fight. All of her energy was being focused on trying to breathe somewhat regularly, on not fucking crying.

When Lightning let her head fall on Fang's shoulder, when it was clear there was no more fight left in her, Fang squeezed her once, reassuring, a promise that she was secure.

"Right," Fang murmured, then she took a half step, turning, and called out, "Vanille!"

"Oh—yes!" Lightning watched through lidded eyes as Vanille jumped, eyes still huge, and blinked rapidly. Then she nodded, expression determined. "On it!"

Vanille spun on her heel with a little flounce, arms spread wide in front of everyone like she was corralling wild animals.

"Okay, time to go!" She said, her voice as firm—as firm as Vanille ever got, that was. "We'll have to bunk in the school for now, so we'd better get started cleaning the place up!"

Sazh and Snow were still shooting Lightning looks—worried and agitated, respectively—but they let themselves be led away gamely enough. Hope, however, ducked beneath Vanille's arm—ignoring her indignant squawk of protest—and jogged to Lightning's side, the frown on his face far too deep and worried for a kid his age.

"Light..." His eyes searched her over, his anxiety bleeding into his scent, hands wringing as he took in her weakened state. His eyes darted up to Fang for just a brief, loaded glance that Lightning had no trouble reading; she barely withheld a chagrined grimace, knowing that wary look was her fault...

"Will you be all right? Is this...Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked carefully, hedging. 

That quick, distrustful look at Fang, the way he was pouring worry, practically sick for her—Lightning had already told Hope she was wrong, that he shouldn't let her prejudices and hangups fuck him up too, but she clearly hadn't done a good job making sure he understood.

With a shaking, too-pale hand, Lightning released her death grip on her stomach. Reached out and set a hand on Hope's head.

"Fang's...different," she assured. "A good Alpha." A flash of surprised pleasure spiked Fang's scent, quickly smothered. Trying not to overwhelm Lightning. "Not like...not every Alpha's bad, Hope," she reminded him gently, feeling guilt squirm in the pit of her stomach. Even after their talk in Palumpolum, it seemed this particular lesson was still lingering in his mind. She could only hope with time, the damage she'd caused wouldn't last. "I'll be okay."

She was trying to convince them both, truly. But she trusted Fang, enough to not hurt her, at least. She had to believe that.

(She didn't have a choice.)

Those big, worried eyes watched her for another beat, and then Hope nodded. As Lightning brought her hand back to cradle her aching stomach, his shoulders fell, the stress leaking from his scent. 

Hope laid his hand on top of hers, the smooth leather of his gloves cool on her overheated skin.

"All right." He gave her hand a quick squeeze. "If you need anything, I'm here for you, Light. We all are."

Lightning managed to crack a smile. "I know."

Hope smiled back, then with a nod at Fang, he jogged away to join the others. Most of them were still staring, Snow most of all, but Fang turned around and walked towards the settlement, sparing Lightning any more of that awful scrutiny.

"Let's get you settled, yeah?" Fang's voice was perfectly calm, though softer than usual; either playing on Lightning's Omega instincts or a result of her own, but either way Lightning sighed, relieved at the thought of being indoors, at the thought of being somewhere quiet and getting this over with.

"Please."

Fang took her inside the main, largest building Oerba had to offer. Since the entire village was one large communal living space, it made sense. More room, plenty of beds to choose from.

Lightning had expected Fang to drop her on a bunk and leave her to it, but she instead knelt just inside the doorway, helping Lightning lean against the wall. Once Lightning was settled, Fang grunted, "Hold tight."

Lightning watched, confused, as Fang crossed to the far right of the room and tugged a blanket off one of the small, spartan beds. Her expression creased, lips twisted to the side, but after a beat she shrugged and grabbed the blanket from the other bed, too. 

From there, she walked to the opposite side of the room where a large couch waited. She watched as Fang grabbed huge, overstuffed cushions and slapped at them, sending up little clouds of dust with each smack until they were clear. She piled the cushions neatly—one-two, one-two—beside each other until they reached a certain length, and then added more so they formed rows of three. After that, she brought over the blankets, stretching them out over the cushions and tucking them over the edges.

As she threw smaller pillows haphazardly over the whole thing, Lightning finally spoke up.

"What..." It almost wasn't worth it, wasting what little energy she had on speaking, but she needed to understand. She took a few more panting breaths, searching for strength. "What are you doing?"

Fang glanced over at her but didn't stop, kicking open a crate where she pulled out even more blankets. 

"Well, you'll need someplace to ride this out, won't you?" She shook out a faded knitted blanket, then gave it a quick sniff. "I don't know how it's done up in Cocoon, but it can't be all that different."

"There are beds right over there..."

Fang scowled. "Not nearly good enough," she denied. Then she looked back down at her work, her frown growing more thoughtful. "Not that this is much better..." Her shoulders slumped slightly, dissatisfied or frustrated. Maybe both. It was so strange to see Fang so clearly displaying these negative emotions and never once aiming them at Lightning. "You'll probably do a better job once I'm outta your hair, but I couldn't make you do all the work."

Lightning blinked, looking from Fang to the...nest? That was what it was, she realized.

She opened her mouth...then closed it without saying a word. This kind of thing didn't really matter to her; all she needed was four walls and a locked door to get through this, that was all. Last time, nesting hadn't seemed necessary, so she hadn't bothered.

But there didn't seem to be much point in telling Fang that, especially now that she'd already done the work. Besides, everyone knew she was a freak, now. No need to highlight just how much.

Another punishing cramp had her dropping that train of thought, had her choking back a whimper, eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched so she didn't embarrass herself any more than she already had. Pain was pain, she would get through this.

"Here," Fang's voice, far closer than before, and Lightning wrenched her eyes open, heart tripping in her chest.

At her weakest, vulnerable and unable to control her own body, the sight of Fang suddenly so near made her hackles rise, the scent of an Alpha both everything she wanted and everything she hated. She'd barely taken in Fang's outreached hand when she flinched, crushing herself into the wall.

She regretted it as soon as she moved, no matter how involuntary it was. Fang's eyes went dull and flat, her expression smoothing completely, though there was no disguising the hurt in her scent. 

"Ah," Fang said, and she let her arm fall away. She stood from where she'd knelt next to Lightning and backed up a few paces, where she gestured to the—the nest she'd built. For Lightning. "I'll just leave you to it, yeah?"

Guilt swamped Lightning, for a brief moment managing to overpower the awful heat and the vicious stabs radiating from her abdomen.

How bad was it for Fang, being around an Omega who'd made it so clear she wasn't wanted? Lightning had never once cared about an Alpha's point of view, but Fang had been so good to her, patient and attentive and respectful, and at every turn, Lightning just threw it back in her face.

"W-wait," Lightning raised a hand, not quite reaching, fingers hovering uncertainly in the air between them. They trembled. "I...I'm sorry, Fang—"

Fang shook her head before her apology even finished falling from her lips.

"Don't worry about it," she said, palms coming up. "I get it, I just wanted to get you situated before I left."

That made Lightning's eyes go wide. "You're leaving?"

She was capable of that? Lightning had assumed—well, she trusted Fang more than any Alpha she'd ever met, trusted she wouldn't force herself on Lightning, but she'd thought Alpha instincts would make her stay close, pride or desire keeping her near enough to monitor. To hear that Fang was actually going to leave stirred complicated feelings in Lightning; relief and surprise, that her boundaries were being considered. But there was also hurt and sadness, that her pack Alpha would just walk away...

Lightning had to banish the thought; it wasn't real, just her Omega instincts trying to confuse her.

Fang frowned, like Lightning was the confusing one.

"Look," Fang fell into a crouch, palms hanging open between her legs. Her eyes held Lightning's, dark and serious and intense, a look that always made Lightning freeze and command her attention. It was so rare that Fang let that easy-going persona slide, and impossible to miss the fact that she was an Alpha when she did. "I know you don't put much stock in Packs, but my job is to protect you. All of you, no exceptions. So I'll be just outside," she jerked a thumb towards the main entrance, "Guarding the place while you ride this out. I'll check on you, make sure you've got water, things like that. But otherwise, that's it. You say you don't want anyone near you, I'll make that happen. Whatever makes this easier for you."

Speechless, at first all Lightning could do was blink up at Fang with mute shock, shivering pathetically, flushed and burning from heat.

"I..." What could she say to that? "...Thank you, Fang. Really."

A smile stretched Fang's lips and she gave a careless roll of her shoulders.

"Eh, just doin' my job." She sobered up quickly, eyebrows drawing together as she flicked a quick glance at Lightning from head to toe. "All right if I help you just a bit more? You look like you might keel over if you try to stand on your own."

Lightning grimaced; she felt like she was on the verge of keeling over. And Fang wouldn't—wouldn't push. She wouldn't do anything, she'd promised. And Lightning believed her.

She was also so incredibly fucking exhausted. All she wanted was those pillows, the chance to lie somewhere comfortable and focus on just surviving the next few days.

Unsteadily, Lightning nodded, panting. "S-sure."

Fang was infinitely gentle when she first touched Lightning, one arm around her waist, the other clasping Lightning's hand so she had something to cling to as Fang helped her up. She swayed, her legs buckling immediately, but Fang's hold was like solid steel and she half-guided, half-carried Lightning over to the nest in seconds.

"There we are," Fang murmured, easing her down, and the combination of Fang's low, approving tone and the slight, soft give of the cushions beneath her made her shiver—full-bodied, so obvious there was no way Fang missed it.

Luckily, she didn't say anything, letting Lightning nearly crush her hand until she was finally all the way down. Lightning had to make herself let go once and for all, the pads of her fingers brushing the many calluses that littered Fang's palm as she did. 

Finally allowed to rest, Lightning's eyes fluttered closed, her arms wrapping themselves back around her middle almost immediately. How the hell did Omegas deal with this all the time?

"If you need anything, Light, just shout." A whisper of touch against Lightning's face, pulling her from the pain, just for an instant. Fang brushed her fingers against Lightning's cheek, soft and affectionate. Fang's eyes were hooded, lips slightly parted. "Promise me you'll ask for help if you need it. This isn't the time for stubbornness."

Fang was serious, Lightning could tell, and her worry was obvious. It pleased Lightning, probably leaked into her scent in an embarrassingly transparent way.

Lightning blinked lethargically, feeling drained from fighting against her instincts, from repressing each groan and cry of pain that wanted to escape her.

She brought a shaking hand up to Fang's wrist, where she wrapped her fingers around it and exhaled a long, shaky breath.

"I promise," Lightning whispered, and Fang smiled.

"Good girl," Fang praised, and while Lightning was too busy shuddering again, she leaned down, just for an instant, and brushed her nose against Lightning's cheek. A quick, approving nuzzle, Pack Alpha assuring her that she was safe and cared for.

Her face felt even hotter, the room spinning beneath the sudden rush of blood to her head, already overheated as it was. Shit, Fang was going to kill her at this rate, and she wasn't even really doing anything. Was Lightning really this weak?

"I'll check on you soon, Light."

Fang pulled away and strode out without a look back, gone so fast it gave Lightning whiplash, to go from the comforting flush of pleasure beneath an Alpha's touch to—nothing. Cold, empty air and Fang's scent growing weaker until it was gone completely.

Without having Fang there as a distraction, all Lightning could focus on now was the heat. The disgusting cling of slick between her legs, the pain radiating from her stomach, out. The burn of her skin, sticky with sweat.

Lightning forced her thoughts away from Fang, from how much she wished Fang would come back even though she'd barely left. That wasn't her, she didn't really want that. Just this stupid heat, nothing else.

With shaking hands, Lightning managed to clumsily undress, kicking off her boots and socks, shrugging out of her uniform and unbuckling her pack. She peeled off her gloves, adding them to the sweaty pile on the floor, then paused, panting. Staring at her wrist, where a plain silver bangle gleamed in the setting sunlight. 

She hadn't taken it off except to bathe since she'd first started taking suppressants. She'd relied on it for so long to remind her of the strict schedule of patches she'd maintained, it felt like a part of her. But it was useless now, so Lighting took it off, too, curled up, and finally let herself cry out—quietly, not sure just how far away Fang was. She shook and gasped and felt hot tears sting her eyes as the pain wracked her in waves, a burn that seemed to build with each ebb and flow.

She had no idea how long she'd laid there, weathering it all, but between one moment and the next, the strain of it all seemed to snap like a rubber band and everything went black.

Consciousness came back to her in increments. The scalding heat still ravaged beneath her skin, boiling her blood. The deep muscle cramps that seemed to make her entire body pulse like one large, raw nerve. The disgusting slick, wet between her thighs, seeping into the blankets beneath her.

But above all that, one sensation stood out among the rest: cool hands, cupping her face, resting on her neck over the inflamed skin of her scent gland. Something that smelled nice, smelled safe. Smelled like home.

It felt so good, she was tempted to simply slip back into the darkness again, eager to avoid feeling another second of this heat, but then she finally registered a sound...a voice?

"Lightning? Light, please say something!"

The alarm bleeding into the scent, the almost panicked tone, made Lightning stir, eyebrows coming together.

"Oh, praise—Lightning, are you with me?"

The effort of opening her eyes was monumental, but Lightning managed. It was dark, the sun had long set, and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, pierced only by the rich orange light of a lantern placed just a few feet away.

One knee planted on the cushion, the other on the ground, Fang was crouched over her, the plain panic on her face so strange that for a moment Lightning didn't even recognize her.

"...Fang?" she asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper. Her heart skipped a beat, afraid, confused. "What—what's wrong?"

If Fang told her they were under attack, that she'd have to fight, Lightning really would cry. But she'd get up, burning cramps or not. Even with her body on the verge of collapse, she trusted herself to shoot straight, at least. 

"I came to bring you water, but you were out cold," Fang said nonsensically. She brushed her long fingers through Lightning's hair, and while it felt good, the faint stress in Fang's scent made it feel like Fang was trying to comfort herself instead of Lightning.

Lightning blinked up at her, exhausted and unable to glean whatever obvious problem Fang had felt the need to wake her for.

"...And?" 

"And?" Fang looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Lightning, fainting during a heat is bad. Very bad. It shouldn't be having that strong of an effect on you."

Oh, so that was it. Lightning didn't have the energy to properly roll her eyes, so she instead let them slip closed again, muscles going slack as she mentally dismissed the world around her. 

"'S fine," Lightning murmured, voice thready. "Just what happens."

"Lightning!" The tone of Fang's voice made Lightning wince. It was like getting scolded by a parent. Fang took her by the shoulders, urging Lightning upright despite the quiet whine that elicited."This is not fine! Do you know how dangerous that is? Being weak during your heat is one thing, but fainting is—this is bad."

The entire time she ranted, Fang didn't stop manhandling her, didn't stop until Lightning's back was propped up by one of Fang's raised knees. It put her squarely between Fang's legs, her chest like a wall at her side. When Fang had her where she wanted her, her touch came at Lightning's neck, coaxing her head up. 

"Here, drink this," Fang encouraged, and she tipped the cool metal edge of her canteen against Lightning's lips.

The first touch of water on her tongue suddenly made her aware of how hot she really was. It didn't matter that the water was barely cool, it tasted like the best thing she'd ever had in her life.

Eager to drink, Lightning tried to hold the canteen herself, but her hands were shaking too hard to let her keep a hold of it. 

"It's all right, I've got you," Fang assured, gently running her hand up and down Lightning's back. She cautiously tipped back the canteen. "Nice and slow."

Lightning wasn't sure why Fang's touch at her back was the thing that reminded her that she was naked, naked and in the presence of an Alpha.

She waited for the fear to wash over her...but it didn't come. Part of it was sheer exhaustion, her disorientation and how difficult it was to focus on anything outside of her body. 

The other part was trust, pure and simple. If Fang really was that type of Alpha, Lightning wouldn't have woken up to Fang touching her face, after all. Besides, Fang had already seen a little bit, back when she'd wanted to check how far Lightning's l'Cie brand had progressed. Past that, there wasn't much to see. Lightning was scrawny, nothing more than scars and muscle tone from her time as a soldier. Not much to get excited about, really.

Lightning drank until the canteen was empty, but when she let her head drop, already feeling the tell-tale creep of darkness rushing to meet her, Fang gripped her shoulder and—shook her. Lightly, but it was a firm hold and made Lightning jolt.

"Light, stay with me," Fang was saying. Her scent was souring with distress, even though all Lightning had done was try to close her eyes. 

"Fang, just...let me go," Lightning huffed, frustrated. "I want to."

The distress only sharpened. "Lightning, you can not keep knocking out like this."

Lightning huffed, eyes screwed shut. Wearily, pathetically, she tried pushing at Fang's chest, tried to pull away so she could fall back down and leave all this bullshit behind.

"Hurts too much...staying awake," Lightning tried to explain. If Fang just understood, she wouldn't be acting like this. "This is...better..."

"Oh for fuck's—" Anger finally bled into Fang's voice and her scent, sharp and electric. Then her fingers came to Lightning's face, gripping her chin, forcing Lightning's head back up, forcing eye contact—and the emotion pierced Lightning's lethargy enough to make her eyes snap open, alarmed.

Fang glared with eyes that were blazing—anger that wasn't true anger. Indignance, maybe. Determination.

"Do you understand what happens when you faint over and over and over again, Lightning? I do." She spoke in a harsh, clipped tone, and the way she held Lightning still made her heart leap to her throat. "Less and less blood gets to your brain. The vessels grow weaker. And sometimes they burst. You could get a blood clot in your fucking brain, Lightning. Or you could have a heart attack. A seizure. You. Could. Die."

The displeasure, the censure—it made Lightning's hackles rise, defensive...and maybe a little scared, which made her angry, so she focused on that instead.

She glared, trying to pull away without success.

"You're...over-react—"

"Lightning."

The sound of Fang made Lightning stop breathing. She stared up at Fang with wide, wide eyes, every cell in her body suddenly alive, attuned to Fang's every breath, every blink.

She'd slipped into her Alpha voice. The absolute, commanding force that demanded obedience.

But Fang didn't order her with it, didn't make any actual demands. Just said Lightning's name so Lightning would understand exactly how serious this was. The Alpha was gone from her voice when she continued, satisfied she had Lightning's full attention.

"If you're telling me you've gone through heats like this before," Fang paused, shaking her head with pursed lips. It was obvious how she felt about the idea of that. "Then you're very lucky to be alive. But I'm not willing to risk it. I can't let you play with your life like that."

"Let me?" Lightning's eyes narrowed. "You can't—"

"Light," Fang's entire body language changed. Her hands cradled Lightning's face, fingers skimming up her neck, across her cheeks in a move that was almost frantic. She shook her head, eyebrows drawn, lips tugged down in a deep frown, and she crowded closer, knees sinking into the cushions, keeping Lightning in her space, between her spread legs. 

The pleading, desperate look on Fang's face made Lightning's mouth snap shut. She'd never seen an Alpha like this. Almost begging...

And then Fang did beg, said, "Please. Stop fighting me. I get that you hate Alphas, I really do, but I can't—" Fang bit her lip for a moment, struggling with the words, and Lightning could only stare, rapt, heart threatening to fall out of her chest. "Lightning, don't ask me to stand aside and watch you kill yourself. I-I can't. I can't do it."

She looked so pained, and that brought Lightning up short, that she was the one going through a heat, yet Fang looked like every second Lightning was trapped in it, it was hurting her, too.

Lightning...didn't have experience with this sort of thing, but this empathy felt...rare. Precious. How many Alphas actually gave a shit, could even think past their knot? Yet Fang seemed more concerned with Lightning's well-being than anything else.

Fuck.

Lightning wrapped her arms around herself, miserable, uncertain. The heat still burned, the cramps never seemed to let up, and she'd be lying if she said that the idea of having even a chance of relief wasn't appealing, but...

"I..." It was hard to muster the words, to push them past her lips, but she did. "Fang, I'm not...I've never..." It was so hard to find the words to explain. That she was barely an Omega, not worth all of this worry. "I wouldn't even know what to do..."

"You don't have to do anything," Fang said immediately, voice low and impassioned. She rocked closer, running her fingers through the hair falling over Lightning's shoulder. "Just let me take care of you. Let me do my job."

Lightning shivered. Just...let herself be...taken care of? It sounded...impossible. That wasn't what she did. 

She took care of people, always. She couldn't afford to be weak for even a second.

"You don't...you don't have to—Fang, I've done this before and I was fine," Lightning tried to insist, one last time, hoping against hope Fang would take her word for it.

Fang sighed. She pulled Lightning's face closer and pressed their foreheads together. One hand slid down to her neck, lightly rubbing over her scent gland, while the other ran up and down, up and down her arm.

Lightning had to catch a gasp, but couldn't stop her body's reaction, arching into Fang like a flower to the sun, a blissful warmth instead of burning, a touch like a cool breeze, each caress a balm to her overheated, painfully sensitive skin.

"Don't worry about me," Fang said, a rumble of sound. "Helping a beautiful girl through her heat is no hardship for me."

Lightning did gasp then, just because of how—how ridiculous that was to say, even as it made her face flush even hotter, chased happiness through her veins to be praised by her Alpha.

"F-Fang, don't—"

"Don't what?" Lightning could hear Fang's smirk, and she couldn't be fully relieved to have the Fang she knew back when that devil-may-care attitude was being used against her. "Tell you how gorgeous you are? How much I'd love to ravish you?"

Lightning reached out then—her hands flying out to tangle in the fabric of Fang's sari. She couldn't figure out if she wanted to shove Fang away or drag her closer. The pleased shivers wracking her were clouding her judgment for sure.

"I'm—I'm not," Lightning protested, face burning, biting her lip. "You don't have to say that stuff."

"Hm?" Fang pulled back just an inch so their eyes could meet. Her face had relaxed somewhat, but the worry was still there, a faint tension she carried despite her slight smile. Her eyes searched Lightning's, probing—and probably seeing more than Lightning wanted her to. "Seems to me you don't hear it enough."

This was already too mortifying for Lightning to deal with. She looked everywhere but Fang's face, her far too-knowing eyes. 

"I'm a soldier," Lightning stressed, frowning. "I'm not—any of those things."

"Well, that's a load of shit if I've ever heard it," Fang denied immediately. "Hate to break it to ya, Light, but you're the most gorgeous Omega I've ever seen, bar none." Her next shiver made Fang's smile stretch wider, her eyes grow more hooded. "You'll just have to accept that."

The syrupy, delicious warmth washed over her too strong to deny, to repress. Lightning realized she was openly panting, unraveling from just a few words.

"Fang..."

"Sensitive, huh?" Fang sighed, returned to pressing their foreheads together. "I'll try to take it easy on you, but no promises."

That made Lightning huff, but the moment of mirth was quick to fade. She swallowed, steadying herself in Fang's firm hold.

"...Is it really that bad?" Lightning whispered, feeling small and cold as Fang's warning replayed in her head.

You could die.

Fang knew what she meant immediately, nodding against her.

"Yeah. 'Fraid so," she said softly, and Lightning closed her eyes with dismay.

She took a deep breath, then another. "...Fuck." 

Pain, she could deal with. But if her life was in danger...she couldn't afford to risk it any more than Fang could. Not until Serah was saved.

That didn't make the fear go away, of course. She'd never done this, never thought she'd have to. It was easier to be suppressed, to go through life unattached and focused. 

But Fang had shown Lightning plenty of times that she wasn't like any Alpha she'd ever met back up in Cocoon. Fang wasn't waiting for the earliest opportunity to slap a collar on her. Fang wasn't trying to own her. She'd always been a good Pack Alpha, going out of her way each day to spend time with each of them, to check in, to make sure they felt heard and seen and protected. Lightning had brushed her off every time it had happened, but she always watched Fang, trying to figure out just what sort of Alpha she was. 

And what she'd seen was an Alpha who found fulfillment in what she could do for the Pack, not the other way around. Even now, she hadn't so much as breathed a word about knotting Lightning, about marking her in some way. She just...wanted to help, plain as that. Seemed desperate to do so.

If Lightning had to go through a heat with an Alpha...she wanted Fang to be that Alpha.

Lightning relaxed her vice grip on Fang's sari, but didn't let go. 

"Will..." If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. Lightning pulled back and looked up at Fang, nervous but determined. "Will you help me, Fang?"

Fang sucked in a sharp breath like Lightning had punched her. But in the very next second, she was wrapping her arms around Lightning, pulling her close, nose running over Lightning's cheek, her eyelids, dipping to the hollow of her throat—scenting her, and Lightning melted in her hold.

"'Course, Light," Fang murmured, pressing the words to Lightning's skin. "Whatever you want."

Tentative, Lightning slid her hands over Fang's shoulders, arching closer. She tilted her head aside so Fang could scent her easier.

"Is there...?" Lightning bit her lip, flushed from both pleasure and embarrassment. She hated this feeling of inadequacy, hated not knowing what to do. "You'll have to tell me if there's something I'm supposed to be doing," she settled on, awkwardly. "I've never done this," she reminded Fang.

Fang hummed, the sound deep in her chest. Lightning closed her eyes as another wave of pleasure coursed through her, beating back the sharp pain for a perfect instant.

"Well," Fang drawled. "First thing's first." 

Finally, she pulled back from Lightning's neck. Her thumb wiped across Lightning's cheek and it was a challenge to meet those dark eyes, watching her with lidded satisfaction, to be under that intense scrutiny and adjusting to letting it happen.

"Is kissing okay?" Fang asked, curious. Her thumb fell, tracing Lightning's bottom lip in a light, slow drag. 

Lightning blinked, face growing hotter. It was the last thing she'd expected Fang to ask, for any Alpha to ask. She'd thought—but of course, Fang didn't assume anything. Of course, she wanted to be sure.

Desire swelled in her, made the throbbing between her legs worse, made her breath come short as her eyes fell to Fang's lips. They were thin and looked soft, lips she'd seen smirking, pursed with annoyance, stretched wide in a triumphant grin after a fight. Lips she'd seen shaped around harsh words and comforting ones, familiar sounds transformed into something exotic and beautiful in her strange, Gran Pulse accent.

All at once, Lightning realized she wanted to kiss Fang. Badly.

Heart hammering, mind quickly clouding with heat, Lightning whispered, "Yes."

In a split second, Lightning felt the tug of Fang's fingers slipping through her hair to cradle the back of her head. She tilted Lightning's head up and took her lips without an ounce of hesitation, nothing but hunger in her scent, in the low groan that she pressed to Lightning's skin.

Lightning's breath hitched, surprised by how immediately and firmly Fang had acted, but it also felt so good that she relaxed into it just as fast, her hovering arms coming to rest over Fang's back, her eyes slipping closed as she adjusted to the new sensation. 

Weak as she was from the heat ravaging her body, the pain that stole her breath and the uncomfortable cling of slick between her legs, she felt seconds away from collapsing entirely. But even when she faltered, Fang's hold kept her secure, her arms like steel bars, cradling Lightning against her. It was a source of relief, almost more than the kiss, knowing Fang wouldn't let her go, would hold her up even when she might fall.

But the kiss quickly stole every thought from her mind past oh and yes and more. Fang guided Lightning, pressing and pulling back, just to take her lips again. She let Lightning adjust, grow confident enough to start seeking her back, and then Fang's tongue slowly parted Lightning's lips, dipping in to taste her, slow yet forceful. 

It was strange, Lightning had never been touched like this, yet the way Fang's tongue filled her mouth made her moan around it, made her gasp and sink even further into her hold. Fang was gentle with her but insistent at the same time. Like she was reassuring Lightning that she had her, yet sure Lightning could handle what she decided to give her.

Strange...yet intoxicating. The cramps were still there, the angry pulse of need as violent as ever, but Fang's touch made it easier to ignore. It should have been gross, having Fang's tongue shoving itself down her throat, but all she could muster was an intense—gratitude. Relief. Yes. Please. More.

Lightning met her as best as she could, tongues moving languidly together, and she was only peripherally aware of the fact that Fang was lowering her down, guiding her back to the soft bedding and pillows. Fang's hands slid over her legs, slowly caressing the inside of her thighs, and Lightning parted her legs without thinking, eager to have Fang as close as possible.

"Mm," Fang hummed, settling easily, deliciously, between Lightning's legs. "Perfect." She let her hand drift over Lightning's neck, a loose, commanding hold that made her sigh. "Just like that, Light."

The approval and praise felt like blows when she was already defeated. Feeling like a stranger in her own skin—wanton and desperate—she pulled Fang closer, tangling her fingers in that thick black hair, couldn't stop herself from helplessly murmuring, "Fang, Fang, Fang," breathlessly between each kiss.

After that, time slipped away. Fang's weight settled over her, pushing her deeper into the cushions, forearms coming up on either side of Lightning's head to cage her in. And Lightning loved that all-encompassing sense of shelter, that Fang was keeping her shielded from the world, an immoveable obstacle that kept prying eyes away, kept her focused on nothing but Lightning. They kissed for a long time, savoring, sloppily, mouths open, tongues tangled. Lightning couldn't catch her breath, but she couldn't bear the thought of Fang separating from her long enough to do so; she might actually burst into tears.

What made her finally surface from her trance of heady pleasure and abandon was a slight nudge—but it was right against her pussy, right where she ached the most, so she jolted from their makeout with a sharp gasp and deep shudder, surprised, and even more surprised by the hot flush of want that swept over her.

"Sorry, sorry," Fang murmured, pressing her apology to Lightning's skin by kissing her cheek, her closed eyelids. 

"What...?" Lightning's eyes fluttered open, confused and a little bewildered by the sudden flush of need. 

She glanced down at their bodies—face warm to be confronted with her own nakedness and how not naked Fang was—and almost didn't realize at first, in the low light. 

But when she shifted, she felt it, finally noticed it past the drape of Fang's sari—the hard, throbbing cock coaxed from Fang's sheath, tenting her skirt. Hard for Lightning.

Lightning froze, struck still by both lust and fear. Right. Alpha. 

Attentive as ever, Fang soothed her immediately, palms skimming over her body, lips soft and soothing in another deep kiss.

"It's all right, Light," Fang assured. "Nothing you don't want, I promise."

The reassurance helped Lightning breathe again and she nodded, heaving a low breath as she returned Fang's kiss.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Okay."

Fang smiled. She trailed her lips from Lightning's mouth, across her cheek, up the line of her jaw, and brushed against the shell of Lightning's ear.

"Good girl," Fang said in a low, pleased rumble of praise.

Oh—shit...

Fang patiently waited for her to finish riding out the near-seizure she'd caused, and then her hands slid down, cupping Lightning's hips where she tugged insistently.

"Roll over," she coaxed. "On your hands and knees for me, love."

"W-what?" Lightning asked, her nerves resurging with a vengeance. That just seemed so—embarrassing. Vulgar.

In answer, Fang only grinned, confident.

"Trust me," Fang said. "You'll love it. You'll feel much better."

"Because I'm an Omega?" Lightning challenged, a spark of defiance making itself known. 

"That's exactly why," Fang agreed easily. Her calm, sure tone smothered Lightning's anger before it could really catch. Fang raised an eyebrow, smirk challenging. "Unless you're too scared to see if I'm right..."

Lightning narrowed her eyes. She was being bated so obviously, but that fucking smirk—

"Fine," Lightning said, clipped. She rose, still blushing, and elbowed Fang away far enough to get some space. Mortified embarrassment threatened to swamp her, but she refused to let an ounce of that uncertainty show as she twisted on the makeshift bed and moved into position, arms buried beneath a pillow, knees digging into the bedding as she—fuck—presented herself, legs spread, gravity instantly making her hyper-aware of the slick dripping down her thighs.

Oh, Gods. The moment she'd settled into this awful position, Lightning felt the difference. The difference between taking whatever attention Fang gave her and actively presenting herself. Ready for the taking—dripping, parted pussy lips and aching, wet hole.

F-fuck. Fang was right—she wasn't even being touched yet and she already felt amazing.

It was most certainly an Omega thing; baring herself so shamelessly, silently begging to be mounted—it was mortifying, even more so that she'd convinced herself that she'd never be the kind of Omega who'd enjoy that sort of thing—yet here she was. A shameless, begging slut. An Omega all the way through.

"Now there's a pretty sight," Fang murmured, and her voice was rough, dark with intent. Promise. Lightning sucked in a breath when Fang lightly scraped her fingernails slowly up and down the back of her trembling thighs. "You ready for me, love?"

Lightning moaned, a thready, needy sound, flushing impossibly hotter. As best she could, she pushed her knees further apart, head dizzied by the kiss of air on her exposed hole, the maddening pulse of slick. Her pussy hurt worse than ever, so close to the promise of Fang's touch. Another few seconds and she was certain she would die.

She ground her face into the sheets, struggling for sanity, and turned her head aside so she had enough air to breathlessly plead, "F-Fang, please..."

Fang's palm came to rest on her lower back, fingers splayed wide. She applied the slightest pressure, not pushing her down, just letting Lightning feel her near. Lightning could feel her slight movements on the bedding, hear the rustle of fabric as she—presumably—undressed. 

"Easy, I've got ya," Fang soothed, thumb stroking her skin. "Deep breath."

Lightning did as she was told, eyes fluttering closed as she forced herself to breathe in slowly—but it rushed right out of her before she could even finish when she felt a hot, sudden pressure against her open pussy, sweeping up. Slick yet stiff, and through her shock she realized Fang had licked her in one firm, wide sweep of her tongue.

"A-ah!"

It shocked her so badly, that Fang was using her mouth instead of her cock. She was an Alpha, aroused enough that she was already poking out of her sheath—and instead of sating herself, she was—doing this.

"F-Fang!" Lightning tried to protest, face burning as she pushed herself up on her elbows. Fang didn't have to do this, Lightning already told her that. "What are you—AHHH!"

Fang chose that moment to trace her tongue back over her pussy, but this time she stiffened her tongue, a hot, firm point that found the slick opening and pushed inside.

Lightning felt like she'd been shot. She locked up completely, eyes wide and unseeing, but when Fang kept going, rolling her tongue deeper in a massaging probe, she collapsed, hands clutching a handful of sheets, moans falling from her without a thought to restrain herself.

Oh, Gods, oh, GODS!

It was almost beyond description, the pure, raw, fucking delight of having Fang's tongue inside her. The near-ecstasy of her aching hole finally, finally being paid the attention it had been demanding for hours. She writhed, so embarrassed by how desperate she was being, yet too desperate to help the way she loved it, to stop from bouncing back the best she could, seeking more, wanting Fang deeper.

Her enthusiasm made Fang chuckle and the sound vibrated through Lightning's body since her tongue was still buried inside, and Lightning thought her heart really might give out. It was too much, yet not nearly enough.

Fang gripped her hips, just a little too tight, keeping her in place, and somehow it felt even better. Held in place, right where Alpha wanted her. Only able to take what Alpha gave her.

With one last lick, and Fang pulled back, hot puffs against Lightning's sensitive skin as she panted. 

"Fucking perfect," Fang murmured. Her hold shifted so she was gripping Lightning's ass, thumbs at her pussy lips, pulling them apart, stretching Lightning open for her. "Shit," Fang cursed, like just the sight was too much. Lightning flushed as another wave of heat battered her, as more slick gushed, unmissable with the way Fang was holding her open. "Better hold on to something," Fang warned, and then she dove back in.

Lightning didn't know what to do with herself, it felt so incredible. Fang licked her out thoroughly, almost frantically, like Lightning's pussy tasted so good she couldn't bear to be apart from it. She'd spend long minutes mapping out every inch of her slick folds, dancing over her inner lips, just edging around her hole, catching any slick that she coaxed out, and then quite without warning she'd just shove her tongue inside, circling and massaging her walls, deep, dark rumbles of approval almost a constant purr as she did so. 

Lightning couldn't keep her mouth shut. She was barely aware of what was even coming out of her mouth, gasps and pleas and moans and shouts. She knew she was begging, probably, and that every probe of Fang's tongue made her shout like she was being gutted—but the pleasure made her so mindless she didn't even care how wanton and shameless she sounded. All that mattered was that Fang kept touching her, that she didn't stop.

Her breaths were already coming in hitching gasps, her heart racing so fast she thought it might burst—and it all reached a crescendo when Fang pressed her fingers—hard—against Lightning's clit, not a gentle touch but a harsh, instantly furious stroking, rubbing back and forth like Fang had a grudge.

Lightning screamed. Her orgasm crashed into her so brutally she thought Fang had ripped her soul away for a moment. Every inch of her shuddered, flooded with ecstasy, and she arched with a rolling motion with Fang's tongue still inside her, trying to get her as deep as she could, her thoughts only yes fuck YES!

Fang licked her through it like the monster she was, dragging out Lightning's orgasm, lapping up the fresh gush of slick like it was what she'd been after this whole time.

There was no controlling it, no warning. The moment her orgasm finally stopped ravaging her and her tension snapped, Lightning went limp and everything else went dark.

Consciousness came slowly, a gradual surfacing to pleasant sensations that kept her relaxed and body loose. A warm line at her back, from the back of her thighs all the way to the nape of her neck. A firm hold around her waist, fingers splayed across her stomach, keeping her close, secure. She was hot, but she reveled in the feel of her Alpha close, protecting her. The heat was still there, her cramps biting deep, body clenching around something that wasn't there, but the pain was so much less this time. Pain that made her wince instead of wanting to die.

Fuck. It almost made her mad, how much difference an Alpha made. That her body was a slave to another person's will.

But she couldn't muster a single ounce of real anger, not with the fresh memory of Fang's touch on her mind. Gods, she hadn't even thought it possible to cum so hard...

"Light?" Fang's lips left her neck and a moment later, she was hovering, tilting Lightning's face so their eyes could meet. Thanks to the low light of the lamp, she could make out the concerned tug of Fang's frown, the sharp focus of her dark eyes as she traced over Lightning's expression. "Back with me?"

"Mm-hm," Lightning hummed, eyes sliding closed. She still felt so weak, even if the pain had faded.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet, I want you to drink some more water, all right?" 

Without waiting for an answer, Fang pulled away, crawling over Lightning to reach the canteen she'd left on the floor. Lightning watched her, mouth going dry the moment she caught a glimpse of miles of bared, tan skin, the arresting flex and shift of her muscular, scarred back as she moved. When she came back, it was a struggle to not stare at her chest, her breasts bared unashamed and confidently.

"Up ya get," Fang helped guide her up, just like last time, watching her carefully as she drank. 

And just like last time, Lightning didn't realize how desperately thirsty she was until the moment the water touched her tongue. Only Fang's firm grip, the quiet click of her tongue as she resisted Lightning's attempt to tip it further, kept her from drowning herself in her eagerness.

"I don't like that you passed out again," Fang was saying. When Lightning cracked open her eyes to glance up at her, her expression was a mix of concern and resignation. She pulled the canteen away after a few more swallows and helped guide Lightning back down. "But I guess it couldn't be avoided that time." 

Fang grunted, stretching as far as she could to toss the canteen back on the ground. Then she was back, curling around Lightning, fingertips brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, heedless of the way the strands clumped together with sweat.

"I think your body's been waiting on that for too long." Fang brushed her thumb against Lightning's cheekbone. "How do you feel, Light? Talk to me."

Lightning reached up, giving Fang's cheek a light pat.

"Better," she said, eyes lidded but honest as she met Fang's. "Less pain, for sure."

"Hm. Good." Fang watched her another moment, then cracked a smile. "I would ask if I was all right, but with the way you were screaming my name," Lightning immediately flushed bright red and Fang grinned, "I'd say all of Gran Pulse probably knows how much you enjoyed yourself—"

"Shut UP!" Lightning shoved Fang with all the pathetic strength she could muster. "Oh my Gods."

Fang laughed, way too loud and brightly, as Lightning managed to topple her onto her back. 

"Oh, come on," Fang managed past her chuckles, and then she was up and pushing herself right back into Lightning's space. Arms sliding underneath her to pull them close, nose rubbing against Lightning's as she grinned. "Don't be like that, Light. You can admit I absolutely rocked your world, there's no shame in it."

Lightning glared, pinching her lips together so a smile didn't betray her—not that Fang seemed all that intimidated.

She sank her fingers in the wild tangle of Fang's thick hair with a warning squeeze. 

"I'll kill you," she threatened.

"That right?" Fang just kept grinning. Her gaze flickered over Lightning, drinking in her glare. "Cute," she cooed.

She pushed forward before Lightning could retort and kissed her.

It was a sloppy, terrible kiss because Fang was still grinning and Lightning wasn't ready for it. But the ridiculousness of Fang's sheer—Fang-ness made her smile, and then they were both laughing, basically giggling into each other's mouths and occasionally remembering to close them long enough to actually manage a real kiss.

Lightning blinked open her eyes, realizing she'd wrapped her arms around Fang's shoulders without noticing, taken by the flush of pleasure on Fang's face, the warmth in her gaze.

She'd never, in a million years, thought that she'd ever be laughing during a heat, a heat with an Alpha. Gratitude swelled with a sudden, overwhelming force in her chest, making her breath catch in the middle of a laugh. 

Fang noticed immediately, of course. "What?" She stroked Lightning's hair. "What's wrong?"

Lightning had enough self-awareness to know that thanking Fang wasn't the right move here. Besides being awkward—seriously, who said thank you after passing out from an orgasm?—Fang had already emphasized plenty of times that she saw this as the least she could do, her most basic duty as Pack Alpha. 

But there was no denying that Fang was treating her with a kindness and respect she wouldn't have found from a single Alpha up on Cocoon. And maybe that was just basic kindness, how it should be, but it didn't make that feeling in her heart any easier to ignore, didn't make her stop craving some kind of outlet.

"Um," Lightning glanced away, biting her lip. She didn't know how to articulate any of that, except...

Unsure, Lightning tentatively pushed up, brushing her lips against Fang's. She closed her eyes, running her palms across smoothed, scarred muscles, and sighed. 

Thank you, she tried to say without saying, hoping the soft touches made her understood, the happiness in her scent. So much.

Fang sucked in a sharp breath against her lips. When Lightning peeked, it was to see those dark green eyes staring down at her, surprised, almost dazed.

Without a word, Fang shifted, elbows firmly planted on either side of Lightning's head. For a brief second, she stared down at Lightning, her brows slightly creased. 

Then, slowly, deliberately, she sank down, pressing her weight into Lightning, pressing her deeper into the bedding. When she kissed Lightning this time, it was charged with intent, a hot probing tongue immediately parting her lips, lustful and thorough.

Lightning sank into it immediately with a groan, arms crossing over Fang's shoulders. 

Yeah, I think she got the message...

They only broke apart—what felt like hours later—when Lightning winced with a gasp, her heat blooming across her skin with another wave of angry lust, demanding to be sated, another painful clench deep in her guts.

Fang stilled, the muscles beneath Lightning's fingertips bunching up, tense. There was the quiet sound of Fang's deep inhale, then she growled—a deep, guttural growl of dark possession and want. Approval. It made Lightning's entire body light up like a live wire, eager and attentive as if this slight sound had called her to heel like a begging dog. 

But that was exactly what she was right now, wasn't it? Instincts and primal desire, desperate and grateful for anything Fang would give her. 

Oh, shit.

"The way you smell," Fang grunted, lips trailing down the length of Lightning's neck. She could feel them stretch into a smile, pressed against the flushed, sensitive area over her scent glands. "Something you want, Light?"

 Embarrassment made Lightning's face warm. She glanced aside, breath hitching when another spasm wracked her, goaded by the light scrape of teeth at her neck, the slick that seemed to flood out of her in response.

"Fang..."

"Mm?" The bites became kisses, slow, sucking pressure that was definitely leaving a mark. "Yes?"

Lightning scowled. She's fucking with me.

Fang hissed when Lightning gripped a fistful of her stupidly thick hair and tugged, hard. Lightning glared up into Fang's fluttering, blown eyes.

"Fang," she repeated, this time firm and impatient.

A blink, and then Fang was grinning down at her. 

"What a little shit," she said, and she looked delighted by the fact. "What happened to my sweet little Omega from before, huh? The one who was screaming my name so nice?"

The reminder made Lightning blush harder. "She's about to fucking—"

Her threat was cut off by Fang's touch, the sudden, merciless pressure as she ground the heel of her palm against Lightning's pussy.

Lightning's gasp was more like a strangled cry, shocked, instantly flushing her head to toe with intense need. She arched her back, body suddenly concerned with only getting closer.

"There we go," Fang kept rubbing her with these insistent, rolling motions of her wrist, her hair like a black curtain as she stared down at Lightning's face with lidded eyes. "Sweet as a kitten now."

F-fuck.

To her relief, Fang didn't tease her more than that. Her fingers parted Lightning's slick pussy lips, stroking just a few times, as if to get a feel for her. Then she slowly, slowly, began sliding a single finger inside.

All of Lightning's focus narrowed down to that one spot, the strange yet addicting intrusion that sank deep and curled, rubbing against her walls.

Fang moved slightly, then her lips brushed the shell of Lightning's ear.

"Breathe, Light," she coaxed. 

Lightning released the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in a great, shuddering sigh. She'd been the one trying to urge Fang on, yet she couldn't help reacting like this, wary and unsure, body locking up, bracing for pain—pain that she needed to realize wasn't coming.

"S-sorry," she started, but Fang hushed her.

"Just lay back and let yourself feel good, all right? I've got ya." She pressed a kiss to Lightning's lips, soft and slow, then started moving her finger again—in and out, in and out.

Lightning gripped Fang's shoulders in a harsh grip, but tried to do as she said. To relax, to stop waiting for something bad to happen. And it instantly felt better when she did, because when she stopped bracing herself and started focusing on what was actually happening, it stole her breath.

Her pussy had been aching for so long now, it felt, might as well have been years instead of hours, and the feeling of something actually inside her, soothing that ache, was indescribable. She was moving before she'd consciously decided to do so, hips grinding down, trying to force Fang in deeper, to fill her even more, and a whimper, distressed and pleased in equal measure, slipped out.

"Easy," Fang soothed. She dotted kisses across Lightning's collarbone. "I hear ya, it's all right," and then she slid a second finger in, wasted no time curling them and massaging Lightning firmly, probing deep.

"Fang," Lightning breathed, tossing her head. It was better and worse, the stretch, the faster pace. She loved it, her heart raced, but her hips kept rocking, seeking Fang's fingers each time she pulled back, even though she knew Fang was coming back.

"Nu-uh," Fang chided, and her other hand came to Lightning's hip, holding her down with a firm grasp like steel. "You're gonna be a good Omega and let me open you up nice and slow, arent'cha? Wanna be good for me, don't you?"

Lightning trembled, biting down on her lip as arousal and pleasure shook her. She nodded, almost frantically, because with Fang knuckle deep inside of her, all she wanted was to be good. 

The time Fang spent fingering her seemed to last forever, the steady, methodical way Fang took her time before adding a third finger, a fourth. Lightning jolted at times, unprepared for the random times Fang would suddenly tap her clit with her thumb, making Lightning gush slick around her fingers. She tried not to seem impatient, only twitching instead of trying to fuck herself on Fang's fingers, but her orgasm built and built, made her heart race, her little moans and gasps growing so loud it was mortifying.

But her cries only seemed to encourage Fang. She raised her lips from Lightning's shoulder and sealed their lips together, less kissing her than she was shoving her tongue down Lightning's throat, keeping her mouth open so she didn't have a chance of smothering herself.

It was awful, the way Fang made her feel exposed, but it only made her hotter, made her arousal reach new peaks of intensity; she hardly recognized herself, but she didn't want to stop.

Lightning whined as best as she could with Fang sucking on her tongue, clutching her as best as she could. She was so close, but she just couldn't get over the edge—

Fang's fingers pulled back—devastating Lightning for one heart-stopping moment of despair—but then she was sliding them back in, but it felt weird, less—until suddenly it was more, much much more and Lightning realized that Fang had bunched her fingers together so she could slide her thumb in.

"'S not a knot," Fang was breathing against her, voice rough and low. "But it should still feel almost as good."

She pressed harder, making Lightning's pussy stretch wider than ever, making her feel every sinking inch, the bump of her knuckles, and then she started rubbing, murmuring, "Come on, come on, there we go, nice and easy," and all at once she suddenly sank in further, the stretch so wide Lightning really did stop breathing and fuck, Fang was still curing her fingers, pulling them in as she turned her wrist and Lightning's pussy sealed around her fist in a sudden pop!—

Lightning came, shouting, body writhing in delicious ecstasy as that awful, deep, relentless ache inside was finally soothed, finally had something big and hard and wonderful to lock around and she tossed her head back, sweat-slick hair sticking to her forehead and neck as she cried out, felt honest to god tears prick her eyes, it felt so good.

Above her, Fang growled like a beast, her scent bursting with her own arousal, so strong it felt like it was egging on Lightning's orgasm, feeding it so it stretched out even longer. She didn't move her hand though, just kept it right there and let Lightning cum around her fist, pussy quivering around her, gushing even more slick that had nowhere to go because Fang had her completely plugged up—

Her orgasm rolled right into another one, too breathless to cry out as loudly, limp body wracked with shudders as she weathered it.

"Gods," she faintly heard Fang say, sounding—affected. Maybe a little awed. "Look at you. Fucking amazing."

Oh, please, please—

She didn't even know what she wanted to beg for. For Fang to stop, to give her some mercy? Or maybe for Fang to never stop, drunk on the sensation of being filled, finally.

When at last it was over, Fang lightly nipped at her lips, humming and soothing her with soft sounds as she gently pulled away.

"Fu—ah," Lightning gasped, shuddering hard, face flushed from the tender ache, the embarrassing sensation of slick spilling out of her. She felt like a fucking faucet, Gods...

"Lovely," Fang said, clearly pleased. She swept some of Lightning's hair from her face, probably wild after all the writhing she'd done. "And you're still with me, too. Good, that's good, Light."

Lightning's eyes slid shut as Fang continued touching her and dropping kisses on her face, her neck and shoulders. It felt...amazing, almost as good as cumming. There was something so frightening about reaching a peak that high, falling over it. The pleasure was incredible, but Lightning had never felt so raw and vulnerable, so completely open and at someone else's mercy. Fang hovering over her like this, reassuring her with touch and her scent that Lightning was safe...she couldn't ask for anything else. For a better Alpha.

Lightning turned her head a little, meeting Fang's next brush of lips instead of passively letting them fall where they might, hands reaching up to stroke along Fang's neck. She didn't feel like she had a single ounce of strength in her body, but she could do this much, at least.

Fang seemed to appreciate it if the way her scent grew sweeter and happier was any indication. 

"How do you feel, love?" The question was a whisper against her lips.

Don't read into it, Lightning told herself. For all that Fang was focused on her, Lightning was definitely affecting her just as much. It was just Alpha instincts making her this—affectionate. That was all.

"I'm...'M good," Lightning sighed. She licked her lips, cataloging the aches and pains of her body, and it was significantly better. Not nearly as all-consuming, her cramps nothing more than an aching pulse of need, a low thrum that was already building but far from the overwhelming agony of before. "I might...I might fall asleep on you," she murmured.

Fang chuckled. "Wore you out, did I?" She pressed another kiss to Lightning's burning cheek. "I'd say you earned a kip after that." She pulled back, just enough so their eyes could meet and Lightning could really appreciate the satisfied smirk on her face. "Took my fist like a champ," she purred, grinning.

Lightning choked. Her hands flew up to cover her burning face and she turned to the side as best she could still caged in by Fang's body. Dying didn't sound so bad after all.

Fang's laugh was so loud in the quiet, and pressed so close Lightning could feel it, shaking them both on the bed.

"You're the worst," Lightning groaned, flustered. "The worst person I know."

"Aw, thanks, Light." 

"Die."

Fang just laughed again.

Despite her intense embarrassment, Lightning did manage to nod off—naturally, this time, instead of blacking out, which probably made Fang happy. And she supposed she could admit that she felt more rested after taking a nap compared to simply dropping into a sudden, dead faint.

Not that she'd ever tell Fang that. She was cocky enough as it was without Lightning telling her she was right about something.

Unsurprisingly, it was the heat that had woken her. The easily-ignored burn was back with a vengeance, a pulsing ache that now knew how good it felt to be filled and demanded it, now.

F-fuck. 

Panting, Lightning blinked her eyes open. It was completely dark, the lantern gutted, and moonlight spilled across the nest and the floorboards in faint shafts of light, inconsistent and fractured as clouds passed by. 

Heat radiated at her back and the tiniest of shifts told her that Fang was behind her, legs pressed against the back of Lightning's thighs, arms holding tight around her middle. When Lightning tried to turn her head, she found Fang had buried her face against her neck.

But she didn't say anything and didn't move, so after a beat, Lightning wiggled around to face her.

Fang was asleep. In the faint light, her dark eyelashes cast sweeping shadows across her cheeks and made the strands of her wild hair seem to glow like starlight. At rest, she was almost like a different person entirely. Soft and peaceful instead of fiery and loud, throwing herself into the next battle with her staff raised and a savage smirk on her face. 

Tentatively, Lightning brushed her fingers against Fang's face, trailing from temple to chin in a slow, hesitant caress. Fang sighed, and she gripped Lightning a little tighter, but she still slept on.

She must be so tired, Lightning thought. At times, Lightning felt barely lucid, and even now she couldn't confidently say if hours had passed since she'd first laid down, or if it had already been days.

And Fang was keeping watch over her, making sure she had water, easing Lightning through each wave of heat—and that wasn't even taking into account the fact that she must have been fighting her own urges every step of the way. No matter how unsuitable and weird Lightning was, she was still an Omega and every instinct in Fang's body must have been screaming for her to mount Lightning, to claim her and do what Alphas were supposed to do with Omegas.

But she'd resisted, hadn't even mentioned knotting Lightning. Lightning truly believed that if she told Fang she didn't want her knot anywhere near her, Fang would listen, no questions asked.

Lightning traced a slow, delicate path down Fang's sleeping face, all the way to her smooth, slightly parted lips. Another clench and gush of slick made her freeze, sucking in a sharp breath and forcing herself to exhale slowly, weathering it.

...She wanted Fang's knot. 

Just the thought made her cheeks darken with embarrassment, but every angry pulse of need that flushed through her cut through any denial she might muster. She wanted it more than she was afraid of the thought of being like that with someone.

Because she was afraid still, but she was starting to understand that those feelings wouldn't just go away, no matter how amazing Fang was turning out to be. It was more about trusting Fang despite that fear, and she was willing to take that risk. 

Plus...she really wanted Fang's knot. Now that the heat was back, all she could think about was chasing that sensation of perfect, complete fullness. And Fang was proving to be a wildly competent Alpha. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that knotting would feel incredible, maybe even better—and she wanted that. Badly.

But. Fang was still asleep. The thought of waking Fang up for sex paralyzed her for a long few minutes in rigid mortification—but the need won out.

Tentatively, Lightning glided her fingers to Fang's neck, her thumb stroking across the skin of her neck in a mirror to what had done for her. She wondered if it felt as good for Alphas.

"Fang," Lightning murmured, face red. She shifted up on an elbow, squeezing her thighs together with a shudder as a hot wave of heat wracked her anew, making her ache. She firmed her grip, giving a light shake. "Fang."

At once, Fang's nostrils flared with a loud, deep inhale. Lightning watched, rapt, as Fang's dark eyes peeled open. There was no confusion or disorientation as her shadowed eyes looked up and met Lightning's own. Her lidded gaze was instantly heavy and intent, and that sudden focus rendered Lightning mute with surprise.

Without a word, Fang sat up, the motion smooth and deliberate, and even though all she did was take Lighning's face in her hands and kiss her, it made Lightning tremble. 

"I'm sorry I woke you," Lightning murmured into the kiss. "I—"

Fang pressed hard against her, cutting off the apology. "No, Light, you did good," Fang praised her, warm palm sliding down a shoulder. "If you need me, I want you to tell me. All I want to do is make this easy for you."

It was the reassurance she needed to push past the worst of her nervousness, and when Fang kept moving her hand down, on an unmistakable path south, she broke the kiss with wide eyes when Lightning stopped her with a hard grip at her wrist.

Panting, Lightning watched Fang for a beat, searching. 

She asked, "Would you knot me?"

Fang went rigid, eyes going even wider. For the first time, Lightning watched as red bloomed on Fang's tanned skin in a great blush. A smile quirked her lips at the unexpectedly cute sight.

Her black eyebrows furrowed, lips parting for a moment of uncertainty, and then, "Light, you don't—I don't expect that from you," she promised. "I can help you through your heat without knotting you."

"I know," Lightning agreed softly. She dug her fingers into the blankets. Heart thundering in her chest, she made herself meet Fang's eyes. "But if I asked, would you?"

Fang licked her lips. "I-I would. Yeah."

Lightning took a steadying breath. "Okay. Well. Then...," she gently rested a hand on Fang's waist, where the modest barrier of her black shorts met skin. The hard outline of her dick was obvious, the fabric of her shorts glistening with precum, yet Fang hadn't breathed a word about what must have been an unbearable ache. "I'm asking."

Fang blew out a harsh breath, desire flaring harshly enough it was a struggle for Lightning to stay focused. It felt good, affecting Fang so strongly with only her words.

"You're sure?" Fang stressed. She cupped Lightning's cheek, staring into her eyes like she could pull the truth from them.

"I mean," and here anxiety flared, unavoidable. "It won't hurt, right?" Nothing else had so far, but this was—different. More.

"Not at all," Fang soothed her instantly, "Not if I do my job right, and I know," a sure grip at the nape of Lightning's neck, dark, dark eyes, "how to do my job."

Well, Lightning thought through the heart murmur. Fuck.

"W-what—How do you want me?" Lightning managed to ask, stuttering and flushed. 

For a brief second, Fang's grip tightened, another flare of desire nearly making Lightning breathless. Then, her eyes fluttered shut and she sucked in a slow breath. When her eyes opened again, Fang seemed to have regained control over herself, composed and confident, her earlier fluster a thing of the past. 

"Hands and knees again, love," Fang said lowly. "It'll feel even better this time."

Would she be able to survive that promise?

Nervous and excited, Lightning dropped her gaze and pulled away to move the way Fang instructed, shivering at the kiss of cool air on her overheated, slick thighs, against the slight part of her throbbing pussy lips. Without needing Fang to instruct her, she automatically arched her back, pillowing her head on her crossed arms, presenting her with—well, not entirely without shame, but a great deal less than the first time.

Fang came hot and heavy over her almost before she was settled, lips brushing against Lightning's ear. Her arms caressed Lightning's skin, her thighs and past where she wanted to be touched, over her waist and side and all the way up to her breasts, where at last Fang's touch lingered, taking thoughtful handfuls in a slow, thorough massage. When she pinched Lightning's nipples, she couldn't hold in a broken gasp.

"You're doing so well," Fang whispered. "Nice and sweet for me, making my job so easy," she continued, and maybe that should have felt insulting, being called easy, but the way Fang said it didn't feel like an insult, not at all. She felt good, a flood of endorphins relaxing her so that she sank even deeper into the blankets, spread her legs just a bit further. 

"Anything you don't like, you let me know, all right?" Fang pressed a kiss to her cheek, the act so doting Lightning thought she might die from it. "Just say stop, kick me in the dick—" Lightning sputtered a laugh and felt Fang's smile against her skin, "—Whatever. What you say goes, 'kay?"

"I got it," Lightning replied softly.

She was rewarded with another kiss. "Good girl."

S-shit. I'm never going to get used to that.

Even with those ground rules set, Fang still took a few minutes to move. She seemed arrested by the sensation of Lightning's breasts filling her palms, addicted to rolling her nipples with harsh little tugs that made her breath hitch. Lightning couldn't imagine why Fang was so interested in them, small as they were, and though it felt good, it was only riling her up more and she writhed impatiently, trying to get attention where she wanted it, needed it. But when Fang did drop her hands, pulling back, a whine of distress slipped from her lips before she could catch it.

A hand settled between her shoulder blades, fingers spread wide.

"Easy," Fang said lowly. "Just a little overdressed here, yeah? Be a good girl and be patient."

Immediately, Lightning stilled, waiting, face bright red as she listened to the sound of Fang shuffling behind her, stripping off the last of her clothes, probably staring at Lightning in this unbearable embarrassing position...

Anticipation chased away her self-consciousness when Fang's touch came—right where she wanted it, a firm, slick, hot slide between her legs that made her moan at the first brush.

She raised herself up slightly, just enough so that she could peek underneath the cradle of her arms and down the length of her body—and her lips dropped open in a gasp to see the flushed length of Fang's fully unsheathed cock sliding between her wet folds, the mouth-watering curve, the head an angry red that bumped against her clit every few brushes. 

Lightning had to screw her eyes shut against the lewd sight, burying her face back between the shelter of her arms. Just a glance and she already felt so close to the edge.

"Fucking gorgeous," Fang was saying behind her, above her. "Such a perfect, eager little pussy." 

"F-Fang!" Lightning moaned, appalled. 

"Mm," Fang hummed. She took her place over Lightning's back again, breasts pressed to Lightning's back, lips at her neck, fingers dancing across the length of her body as if she was determined to know every inch of her. Fang wiggled her hips in an insistent grind, seeming to delight in the way Lightning writhed under her, groaned and trembled and begged. "So desperate for it, too," Fang murmured hotly, groping at Lightning's chest again. "How'd I get so lucky, huh? Gettin' such a sweet little thing under me?"

"Oh, gods," Lightning muttered in a shaken voice. She really couldn't take all of this shit Fang was saying. "Don't—"

"Deny it all you want, Light," Fang interrupted in a calm, no-nonsense tone. The way she kept circling her hips was driving Lightning insane. "I'm not blind. I can tell when I've got a beautiful, strong, perfect Omega in my hands."

Lightning whimpered, feeling weak and lightheaded from the praise.

Perfect?! She wanted to scream with the wrongness of it, even as her flush of pleasure mounted to incredible heights; there was nothing remotely normal about the kind of Omega she was, let alone perfect—and Fang had said strong, like that was something anyone would want from an Omega—

Shaking beneath the onslaught of Fang's words, she couldn't muster the words to argue before Fang shifted slightly and suddenly she was pressing in—

Lightning went rigid, shocked. Eagerness, trepidation, and burning need swamped her so suddenly she felt paralyzed by it.

"Breathe," Fang coaxed, the head of her cock just barely inside her, but it was all Lightning could focus on, feel—

Lightning's first breath was jerky and unsteady, but she did it, and the next one came easier, but she hardly cared about that, only knew that Fang wouldn't move unless she obeyed.

"Light?" Fang asked as Lightning trembled and panted, worried. "Are you—?"

"Move!" The command was half shout, half plea; Fang sucked in a sharp breath above her. "Please, for fuck's sake, move—"

Lightning choked on her words as Fang pressed in, this time without stopping until it felt like she'd found new depths inside her and Lightning released a long, agonized, blissful moan because the reach was so much deeper than Fang's tongue or her fingers and finally she was full, finally she was fucking full and it felt incredible—

"Ah, fuck," Fang groaned hotly, face buried somewhere in Lightning's hair, against her neck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Fang kept whispering and she ground her hips in just a bit further, really digging in, making room for herself, getting comfortable, and they both moaned in unison as the slightly swollen base of her dick caught around the edge of Lightning's hole, a promise of what was to come.

"L-Light," Fang panted after a moment. "You good?"

Lightning opened her mouth—

"Ahhhhh," she managed, not at all the 'okay' she'd had in mind but with Fang buried inside her, it was the best she could do.

"Shit, that's hot," Fang muttered, and she gave a breathless chuckle. "All right then," she said, and clamped one hand around Lightning's hip, dug her fingers in tight enough to bruise. "Here we go."

Fang pulled out in a long, delicious drag that made Lightning nearly delirious with pleasure—and then she slammed back in.

"FUCK!"

"That's the idea," Fang's smirk was pressed to her ear, but Lightning didn't even care that she was being teased, too busy drowning in sensation, of thrusting back each time Fang pulled out, just as desperate as Fang said she was.

Lightning...went a little crazy after that. She was loud, moaning and crying out with shocked, pleased wails of delight, and there was nothing shy or unsure about the way she pushed herself up on her elbows and fisted the blankets, bucking back onto Fang's dick to meet her every thrust, so instantly consumed with the demands of her heat she didn't even recognize herself.

At her back, Fang was cursing, grip like steel as she helped guide Lightning's hips so they kept meeting in countless, perfect union, her pace growing frantic to match Lightning's.

"Shit," Fang's heat left her back as their thrusts grew erratic. "This isn't how I—fuck, Light, I'm close—"

But she didn't have to say anything, Lightning could feel the swell of her knot growing, catching, making their thrusts slow with each reluctant separation and exactly one second ago, all she wanted was to feel Fang slide into her every second for the rest of her life. But with the promise of her knot, all at once she was filled with frantic need, couldn't bare to go even one more moment without being so full she would never feel empty again.

Like she was possessed, Lightning threw her head back, gasped, "Yes!" and shoved her hips back, palms digging into the cushions below her for leverage, begging Fang, a higher power, anyone, anything to let her have that now, now, please—

"Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease—"

"Ggh!" Fang made a strangled sound, her own lust battering against Lightning's senses as she flooded the room with even more Alpha musk and in a sudden move of breathtaking strength, she grabbed Lightning's upper arm, yanked her up so that they were pressed together chest to back, and before Lightning could protest the lack of movement this gave her, Fang wrapped a hand around her neck.

She held Lightning's life right beneath her palm, the pressure firm without being choking, and Lightning couldn't think for the pleasure, the slick gushing past Fang's cock and down her thighs and Fang started thrusting hard up into her—mean, vicious, punishing thrusts as she shoved, shoved, shoved until her knot popped past the tight seal of her pussy and flooded her—

"Nnn—AHHHHHHH!"

Being stretched so wide she could barely stand it, feeling Fang's release splash hot and fierce inside of her—it was everything she hadn't ever known she'd wanted, the mind-numbing perfection of it so unspeakably satisfying that she crashed headfirst into orgasm before she was prepared for it, wracked with full-body jerks as her body shook in Fang's grasp, dissolving right out of her skin from the euphoria of finally being whole, complete, full...

It was ages before she finally came back to Pulse, as she slowly reacquainted herself with having a body, with flesh and bone and a functioning brain and all of the bothersome, mortal ties that kept her from staying locked in that perfect moment of release for eternity. 

When she registered reality again, she was laying down, Fang once more a line of perfect heat along her back. She twitched, thinking to turn, but Fang reached out whip-fast to stop her, both of them hissing when the slight movement tugged on her knot, still locked tight.

"Easy there," Fang said, and her voice was hoarse; looked like Lightning hadn't been the only one screaming.

"How—" Lightning had to clear her throat, wincing against the tender feeling in her vocal cords. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "How long?"

"How long have you been in space?" Fang clarified. One of her hands was trailing fond caresses through Lightning's hair. "'Bout an hour, I'd say. Hard to tell without a clock around."

Lightning made a slight noise of acknowledgment, exhausted and content. She felt kind of gross, sweat cooling on her skin, thighs still wet with slick, but the pleasurable sensations of being full and sated and sore in the best way far outweighed that. She cleared her throat again.

"Was that—Was it okay for you?" she asked, feeling embarrassed all over again. Now that she was calm, remembering how—eager—she'd been was enough to make her want to crawl into a hole and die somewhere. All these years, telling herself she'd never submit to an Alpha and then she goes and acts like that, like she's been desperate her whole life for Fang's cock.

"Are you joking?" Fang's voice was weird, tone tense and incredulous, and her caress stopped.

For a second, Lightning feared the worst—that Fang was disgusted with her, how Lightning had practically used her body to chase her pleasure, how she'd been so difficult only to reveal herself to be such a slut—

Fang shifted so she could peer over Lightning's shoulder, and with a start Lightning realized she'd been using Fang's other arm as a pillow this whole time and hadn't even noticed until the distracting flex of muscles gave it away.

"Light." Fang's touch came to her chin, fingertips brushing her hair over her shoulder before angling Lightning's head to make reluctant eye contact. When Lightning did finally look at her, Fang had an incredibly serious look on her face. "That was the best fuck of my life."

Lightning blinked up at her. Let the words sink in. Slowly, a blush warmed her face, but she couldn't look away from the sincerity in Fang's eyes, letting it bolster her, fill her with relief that she hadn't turned Fang off.

"...Really?" she asked in a voice that was small and pathetic and transparently hopeful.

Fang's lips twitched into a smile, a small one that seemed to be helplessly charmed. "By a longshot, Light. It's not even a competition."

Pleased, Lightning glanced away. "...Oh."

Fang's smile grew. "Yeah," she said, and she nuzzled against Lightning's face, noses brushing. "'Oh,'" she repeated in a soft, mocking tone, like Lightning was dumb for even asking.

"You don't have to try and make me feel better," Lightning tried to assure her. "I know I'm not as—experienced as other Omegas—"

Fang's hand around her throat made her mouth snap shut, eyes wide as she met a burning, dark gaze.

"I'm gettin' pretty sick of you calling me a liar, Lightning," Fang said in a low, dangerous tone. 

Lightning's heart skipped a beat, mouth going dry. The threat in Fang's voice, in her grip, made her want to bristle; instead, a shudder of desire rippled through her, head to toe, even where her pussy was still locked with the knot deep inside her, and her lips parted with a quiet, breathless sound of pleasure.

Fang's eyes shut with a groan of her own at the feeling of Lightning tightening down around her, and when her eyes opened again, the darkness had leaked from her expression to make way for something more thoughtful.

"...But I guess I should cut you some slack, huh?" She loosened her grip, dropping a kiss on Lightning's temple. Lightning breathed in slowly and focused on not embarrassing herself more by asking Fang to do it again. "Doesn't seem like you've been around many decent Alphas."

That sobered her. Many? More like any.

Something of her thoughts must have been obvious, because Fang frowned. 

"What you said earlier..." Fang spoke slowly, picking each word out carefully. "To Hope, about not Alphas being bad. Have you...?" Here, Fang faltered, expression creasing with worry. "No one hurt you, did they?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Lightning said straight away, wanting to chase away that look on Fang's face. "I...I was so angry, when I met Hope," she started softly, voice quiet because she was still ashamed of how she'd nearly ruined his life. "I'd always told myself I didn't need anyone other than Serah. So when I found myself in a Pack against my will, I...didn't handle it well." 

It was a laughable understatement. She'd lost control of her temper, tried to beat the hell out of Snow, was argumentative at every turn, pushed everyone away, ditched them at the first opportunity, and spat the most hateful, spiteful words at Hope when he'd started trailing after her, about how he was weak and pathetic and dead weight. She'd been the worst kind of asshole.

"When Hope found out I was an Omega, he didn't understand why I would hide it. So I was honest. Maybe too honest. It just—pissed me off. Hope was like any other pampered Omega on Cocoon, never questioning his place, treated Alphas and Betas like they were his betters, content to live out his life doing whatever he was told—I couldn't stand it."

Lightning didn't regret ripping off Hope's rose-tinted glasses about the caste system they'd all been imprisoned by; the sooner he saw those gilded chains for what they were, the better. She didn't want to see him willingly hand over his freedom to some Alpha who would see it as their due. But she did regret poisoning him against all Alphas, of writing off all of them the same way society wrote off Omegas. It had been easy to make herself believe that was the truth when she had so completely cut herself off from everyone, but the epiphany she'd come to in Palumpolum made her face the harsh reality that she was just—scared. Scared, and hiding behind anger so she couldn't be hurt.

Watching Hope change from an uncertain, lost boy to an unrecognizably angry, bitter person who had aged years in just a few days had been the worst guilt she'd ever felt, second only to letting Serah down when she'd come to Lightning for help.

"What do you know about how Omegas are treated in Cocoon?"

"Not much," Fang answered honestly. "But I have an inkling. I saw a lot of...collars." Fang's nose wrinkled in distaste.

"...Right." To an outsider, like someone from Gran Pulse, for example, the tradition probably seemed bizarre, but collars were seen as a status symbol in Cocoon. It was obscene to flaunt a mating bite obviously, but a collar, picked out by your Alpha, was a source of pride, almost a brag, declaring you were chosen, taken. Serah had practically glowed with happiness when she'd announced her engagement to Snow, nervous as she had been. The pendant hanging from her collar had shined a gleaming, perfectly polished silver, a compliment to the much looser, longer chain around Snow's own neck—and he was seen as a hopeless romantic for it since Alphas rarely, if ever, showed any sign of claim to an Omega.

When she explained this to Fang, her look of disgust made Lightning smile.

"No offense," Fang said, "But I think I hate Cocoon more than ever."

Lightning shrugged, as if to say, That's just how it is. She had enough on her hands tackling the fal'Cie, she couldn't even begin to tackle the internalized prejudice that was rampant throughout their society.

But Fang was clearly bothered, refusing to let it go as she guided Lightning's face back up.

"I would never make you wear a collar," she said, plainly offended by the very idea. "Being an Omega doesn't make you someone's pet."

Her clear outrage made a swell of fondness bloom in Lightning's chest.

"Well, since you weren't planning on mating me, neither of us has anything to worry about, do we?"

Something flashed across Fang's face. Uncertainty, maybe, something vulnerable, and the air was instantly weighed down with some nebulous pressure.

Surprised, Lightning stared. "Fang—?"

Fang shook her head, dismissive. "That explains Cocoon," she pointed out. "But it doesn't explain you."

Reluctant to let the odd moment go, Lightning nonetheless began to talk—really talk. She told Fang everything, the words hesitant, then spilling from her in a rush, half-afraid of Fang's judgment, if she'd think Lightning stupid after all this time of hiding, only to succumb to her instincts at the worst possible time.

But it was a relief, too, to finally tell someone the whole story, to explain just why she'd done what she had, the painstaking effort she'd put into hiding, the hard work it had taken to achieve as a high a rank as she had in the military despite her inherent 'weakness'—and well on her way to climb even higher in the ranks, if the fal'Cie hadn't decided to so thoroughly fuck up her life.

Hope knew she was an Omega, and based on the many, many times she'd ranted about Alphas, had more than likely pieced together the reasons behind why she'd hidden that fact, but he was too young for her to burden him with the whole story. Fang, on the other hand, had seen her at her absolute lowest and had guided her through what had once been her worst nightmare. At the very least, she owed Fang the truth, and an explanation for why she'd been so rude to her the last few days.

It was some incredible timing that Lightning had just finished tiredly explaining herself when, without warning, Fang's knot popped free.

Lightning jerked, surprised, grimacing at the sudden gush of slick and cum spilling out of her, face burning at the sore, gaping feeling between her legs. 

"Oh, gross," she muttered, and then suddenly she had her arms full of Fang.

The moment they were free, Fang scooped Lightning up and plastered them together, her ridiculously long legs crossing to better secure Lightning in her lap, and she buried her head against Lightning's shoulder, squeezing close like she might never let go again.

"F-Fang?" Bewildered, Lightning cautiously held her back, worried for a moment that she was hurt, or maybe this was something Alphas typically did when they knot went back down? She had no idea.

Before she could really reflect on her inadequacy as an Omega, she abruptly realized Fang was trembling—her scent throwing out wild, disparate emotions, strong but impossible to discern.

"What is it?" Lightning asked, running her hands up and down Fang's back. "Are—are you okay?"

Fang's response to that question was to pull Lightning against her even tighter, so much so it was a struggle to breathe, but Lightning didn't dare ask for space.

"I figured it was bad," Fang said, voice muffled. "I knew it had to be, for you to have kept it a secret like that. To—to react the way you did, but Gods!" Lightning was completely unprepared for the way Fang looked at her when she finally raised her face, to see the shine of actual tears in Fang's eyes. "But it's so much worse than I realized," she breathed, tone horrified and full of sorrow. "You've been alone this entire time, your entire life!"

Fang sounded so anguished, anguished for her—it made tears prick her eyes and that horrified her because Lightning didn't cry. Claire cried, once upon a time, but not Lightning. Never Lightning.

Before she could even try to distance herself from the moment, to pull herself together, Fang was there, cupping her cheeks, thumbs smoothing across her skin over and over as she said, "I'm sorry, Light, I am so, so sorry you had to go through that just to keep your family, that you were even—put in that position! It's—it's so unfair, and shitty, and—you are so strong. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met, to have done what you've done. I hope you realize how amazing you are because I'm not letting you forget it for even one more second—"

Lightning gasped, loud and sharp, flinching from Fang's words. She turned her head aside, shoving at Fang's chest, trying to get away.

"St-Stop! Stop," she forced past quivering lips. "I'm not—I did what I had to and, and, and it didn't even matter, I still ended up like this—"

"And I am so grateful," Fang said right away, her voice so serious it made Lightning pause, made her tense and stare with wary confusion. "Thank you, Light, for giving me a chance. I don't deserve it, but I'm so happy you let me do this for you. That I can do this for you. It was so brave of you, I don't think you even realize how much, but you're so incredible, love—"

It was hopeless. Lightning tried stiffening her body, tried to suck in quick breaths, but one hot, traitorous tear still spilled over and once that one was free it was like the floodgates opened.

Humiliated with herself, she buried her face in her hands, feeling raw and ugly and dumb as huge, body-wrenching sobs wracked her. It was so awful, so pathetic that she was letting a few words affect her so badly—but they were words she'd never expected to hear, ever, so she had no defense against them.

Fang reeled her back in, held her just as tightly as before, once again giving Lightning exactly what she needed before she even realized it herself. 

Thankfully, Fang didn't say anything else, just continued to hold her and let her cry as she pet every inch of Lightning she could reach. Lightning hoped that was because Fang realized she was at her limit, but at this point she would take pity, she had no pride when she was sobbing like a fucking child.

She was vaguely aware of Fang lowering them both back down, of being tucked into Fang's chest, but the torrent of emotions wracking her made that an inconsequential thing.

Lightning clung to Fang, and cried until her eyes were sore and her throat was raw and her nose was stopped up and, eventually, she fell asleep.

Consciousness returned sluggishly. Lightning's thoughts were slow, and even when she peeled her eyes open, she felt no urge to move even though the heat had begun to simmer once more under her skin. 

She felt...wrung out, too tired to even feel embarrassed that she'd broken down so thoroughly in Fang's arms. Her lidded eyes stared unseeingly at the small patch of tan skin she could barely see in front of her, and she simply breathed. 

Eventually, however, the uncomfortable itch on her face grew too great to ignore—dried tear tracks that pulled uncomfortably on her skin. When she raised her hands to scrub at her face, Fang twitched, then sat up, black hair falling forward as she watched Lightning.

"Hey," she greeted softly. "How ya feeling?"

Lightning huffed, eyes averted. "Great," she said flatly.

Fang chuckled. "Yeah, all right, stupid question. Thirsty?"

The second she offered, Lightning couldn't remember ever being more parched in her life. In answer, she sat up, already looking to the edge of the nest for Fang's canteen.

"Here, I gotcha," Fang said, fingertips pressing gently on Lightning's arm, a suggestion to keep her in place than an actual hold.

Still. "I'm not an invalid," Lightning said. 

"I know," Fang said easily, crawling across the blankets and cushions to retrieve the canteen. Lightning blushed, watching surreptitiously, taking in Fang's nakedness. The attractive flex and shift of defined muscles, the many scars splashed across her dark skin. 

She glanced away when Fang crawled back to her, not wanting to get caught staring—then blinked, taking stock of herself.

"Did you—clean me?" Lightning asked.

The answer was an obvious yes—aside from the dried tears on her face, she was way cleaner than she had any right to be after what she and Fang had done. The blankets, too, she realized, had been stripped down to another layer, the dirtied ones in a haphazard pile pushed over the side.

"It's my job," Fang said simply. She popped off the lid of the canteen and held it out. "Drink."

Warily, Lightning took it, feeling a weird mix of relief and disappointment that Fang didn't offer to hold it for her like last time. Stupid hormones.

"...Well, that's not embarrassing," Lightning muttered around the mouth of the bottle.

Fang smiled, but it was just a fraction of her usual smirk, her dark eyes heavy as she watched Lightning.

She could only stand that look for a few moments before she had to lower the canteen and pointedly look away.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Lightning's hand clenched around the canteen. She grit her teeth in a brief spasm of frustration. 

"Like I'm some pathetic Omega project that needs your protection. That was just—I don't know what that was but it's not happening again—"

Fingers curled under her chin, cutting her off. She looked up with wide eyes into Fang's, who watched her calmly.

"Can I kiss you?"

Lightning blinked. Blinked again. "O-okay?"

It was sad how instantly soothing Fang's lips on her were, how all of her rankled nerves settled at the soft, firm touch. 

After a long while, Fang pulled back, cupping Lightning's face like she was something sacred.

"On Gran Pulse, Omegas were cherished," Fang said out of nowhere. Lightning froze, surprised. "You've seen it around here. I love my home, but it's a harsh place to live. Every day is a fight the moment you step outside these borders. Most of my people were hunters, had been for countless generations because that's what it took to survive. But when the War of Transgression began," Fang's eyes darkened with memory, lips pursing with remembered pain, "our numbers began to dwindle. Our best fighters were gone and the fal'Cie didn't care that we were starving.

"There were fewer and fewer of us, and we could count the number of Omegas left on our hands, with fingers to spare." Fang shook her head. "The ability to create life when it felt like the world was ending—it was more precious than ever. But more than that, they kept us from giving up hope. Omegas held us all together, gave us warmth and shelter and safety when we felt lost, kept our Packs from dissolving completely when the war seemed like it wouldn't ever end."

Heart aching, Lightning rested a hand on Fang's waist, not interrupting, but wanting Fang to know that she was supported. She couldn't comprehend that sort of loss, had only felt a few day's worth of hopelessness when the fal'Cie had ripped her orderly life from her. She couldn't imagine what years of that would feel like, even if these fabled Omegas helped keep the despair at bay.

At her touch, Fang smiled, eye brightening. 

"I can't say I've got all that much experience with Omegas," Fang said uncomprehendingly, "But—"

"Wait, you don't?" Lightning blurted out, her commitment to staying silent and patiently listening flying right out the window. 

Fang's smile grew. "Well, I had Vanille to look out for, didn't I? And then there was the war, and—Ragnarok—" Fang shook her head again, shrugged. "I was one of hundreds of Alphas, and when they could have their pic, I didn't often rank high on anyone's list, especially once I became a l'Cie."

Stunned, Lightning couldn't speak for a moment. A world in which anyone would pass on Fang was—unthinkable. Ridiculous.

"You—you've been amazing, if it's any consolation," Lightning admitted.

Fang visibly preened, her wide, shit-eating smirk as annoying as it was gratifying to see it again. 

"Glad you think so," Fang said, "But that's not the point I wanted to make."

Lightning's brow furrowed. "What's the point, then?"

Fang tapped her first finger against the tip of Lightning's nose.

"Cocoon's brainwashed you into thinking an Omega's the worst thing you can be, that it makes you a slave, but the truth is that perfect little society would collapse in an instant without people like you holding it together. Alphas would be tearing themselves apart in the streets, Betas caught in the crossfire to calm them down, nothing but chaos and disorder. It'd be the same for us here on Gran Pulse." Fang slid her palm to the side of Lightning's neck. "Light, when the world told you to lay down and obey, you refused. You did everything they said an Omega couldn't do and you did it better than any Alpha or Beta would have in your place. You protected yourself, you protected your family, and you've protected your Pack more times than I can count, including me."

Face burning, it was hard to meet Fang's warm, near-adoring gaze. Gods, had anyone ever looked at her like that?

"I just...did what anyone would do," she said lamely.

"No," Fang countered immediately. "You're an Omega," she said smugly. Smug for Lightning. "So you did it better."

Startled, Lightning whipped her head up, but Fang met her gaze without an ounce of deceit.

Holy shit. She really means that.

Lightning could feel the smile slowly stretching her lips, impossible to hold back. 

"You...you should kiss me now," Lightning said.

"Yes, ma'am," Fang replied, grinning.

Knowing that Fang wasn't all talk, that all of the praise and kindness she'd shown Lightning was sincere rather than just instincts driving her to soothe Lightning any way she could, made her heat go by even smoother. It was impossible not to feel guilty—she was still holding them up, had lied to her Pack, had proven to be a slave to her hormones after she'd promised herself to never let herself sink so low—but Fang's encouragement and confidence in her kept Lightning from being consumed by it. It sucked to be in this situation, but she couldn't deny something good had come of it. Understanding Fang a bit more, growing closer to her, the relief that she hadn't been all talk when she'd reassured Hope; that there really were Alphas out there who didn't treat Omegas as nothing more than property.

She was barely aware of the outside world. Every now and again she noticed the light through the windows, or the lack of, and figured a day or two had already passed, but her sense of awareness rarely stretched past the nest, past Fang. Nothing else really mattered.

Fang had knotted her twice in the time that had passed and when Lightning woke again, she almost felt normal—hardly any pain at all, her heat reduced to something of a mild fever instead of a draining, scorching inferno.

She was lying on top of Fang, head pillowed on her shoulder, arms wrapped around Fang as if, in her sleep, she was worried something would rip them apart. Most of her embarrassment with acting so needy had long since faded, and even the bouts that hit her now didn't carry the heavy weight of shame and inadequacy they used to. She didn't have the energy to keep it up, especially with how Fang encouraged her. When this was all over—if any of them managed to survive—she'd have a proper spiral. Maybe she'd run off, find a nice, secluded mountain to live out her days.

But for now, she was content to bury her face in the crook of Fang's neck, to slide her arms from around Fang's chest to over her shoulders. Comfortable. Warm. Safe.

Fang's chuckle rumbled beneath her, broad palms sweeping up and down Lightning's back in an affectionate caress.

"You're so cuddly," Fang teased.

"No 'm not," Lightning grumbled, squeezing Fang closer.

Fang laughed, pressing a kiss to her head, and Lightning smiled despite herself. 

With a huff, Lightning raised her head, tilting it up enough to take in the easy slant of Fang's smile, the messy fall of her thick, curly hair spread across the pillows. 

For a moment they just watched each other, content. But then something in Fang's expression—faltered, became something a little more muted.

The way Fang was looking at her—Lightning couldn't pin down her expression, soft, yet...sad in some way.

"What?" Her fingers brushed over Fang's cheek. "What is it?"

To her surprise, Fang groaned. Lightning only got a glimpse of her pained smile before Fang's hand came over her eyes, blocking her view.

Over Lightning's startled cry, Fang said, "You have got to stop looking at me like that."

"Wha—Like what?" Lightning demanded. She shoved Fang's hand away from her, scowling, but Fang just shook her head.

"Even your pout," she muttered. Lightning sputtered.

"I'm not pouting, asshole."

Fang burst into laughter, wrapping her arms around Lightning and rolling them over before she knew what was happening. Pinned on her back, Fang hovered over her, chuckles dying down to a soft smile that made Lightning's chest clench, and when Fang's fingers brushed against her neck, she found herself holding her breath.

"You just..." Fang sighed. "You make me want things I shouldn't, I suppose."

And Lightning didn't get it at first, not really, couldn't place that wistful look on Fang's face until she finally registered where Fang's fingertips were resting—on her scent gland, where a mating mark would go.

Oh.

Immediately, she blushed. "Why would—" Lightning glanced aside. "Who the hell would want to mate me?" Helping her through a heat was one thing, but mating? Permanently bonding—it was laughable. 

"Who wouldn't?!" Fang countered, sounding incredulous. It leaked sharply from her scent, too, like she couldn't contain it. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're gorgeous, intelligent, loyal, protective, you're a damn good fighter, you don't take anyone's shit, you—"

Abruptly, Fang colored. Her head dipped and she cleared her throat. She looked embarrassed.

Well at least it's not just me this time, Lightning thought faintly.

"I'm not saying—I know I'm just here to help, though. I know you're not looking for the kind of baggage that comes with a Pulse l'Cie," Fang said, like some kind of idiot. She even had the audacity to smile at her, one that Lightning hated because it was so kind, accepting Lightning's rejection before she had even said anything. "Besides, for all that we're hoping for the best, we could die tomorrow. No one's ever killed a fal'Cie—"

Lightning shut her up with a harsh tug at Fang's hair, fingers twisted in a sizeable fistful.

Ignoring Fang's wince and whisper of Ow?, Lightning glared.

"Fang. In what world are you not a good Alpha? A perfect Alpha?" Lightning demanded. Fang's eyes went wide. "Fang, if anyone's the one with baggage, it's me. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here and if it wasn't for you, I might be dead right now. Look," Lightning sighed, "If you're saying you want to mate me—I think this heat is getting to you, too. Once it's over, you'll start thinking clearly and you'll realize how stupid you're being."

Lightning had hoped to goad Fang into an argument, to piss her off, anything to get that look of resigned acceptance off of her face, but Fang just stared down at her, expression as serious as it was unreadable.

"You just don't get it," Fang murmured after a while. 

She glanced aside, lips twisted in an unhappy frown, then sighed.

"At the end of the day, I'm just a simple fighter," Fang explained. "Getting to leave a mark on you..." Fang shook her head, the tug of her smile wry. "After everything I've done, it's more than I deserve, Light. That's what I meant."

It was unspeakably difficult, grappling with the relentless praise of Fang's assurances, but the anger helped. Made her swallow her first few ungrateful protests because she could recognize a losing fight when she saw one.

Instead, Lightning took Fang's face in hers and shifted, rising up enough their lips met.

Fang froze, surprised, but she got with the program soon enough, kissing Lightning back with a low sound of want, one that made desire shiver through Lightning.

She broke the kiss after a long, languid moment, and whispered against Fang's lips, "But if I asked, would you?"

Immediately, Fang sucked in a sharp breath, brows coming together. "Light—"

"It's like you said," Lightning spoke over her, firm, "We might be dead in a few days. Why hold back?"

"Light, you—" Fang blinked a few times, eyes searching Lightning's. "Just because I'm the first Alpha you've—"

"It's you or no one," Lightning said simply. "I grew up on Cocoon, Fang. I was in the army. I've met plenty of Alphas, and there's not a single one I trust like I trust you."

This close, Lightning could practically hear Fang's nervous swallow, could see the conflict bright in her dark eyes. She squeezed Lightning, an anxious flex of fingers.

"I-I'm not—"

"Do you want to?" Lightning asked. "Mate me?"

Fang exhaled in a huge gust, eyes closing as if she were in pain. "I—of course I do—"

"Then what do you have to lose?" Lightning asked. 

She almost didn't recognize herself in that moment. If even a day ago, someone had told her she'd be trying to convince an Alpha to mate her, she would have never believed it. But Fang was different, in every way possible, the kind of Alpha that, now that she'd known this touch, she couldn't live without, needed to claim. Maybe it was just her instincts again, clouding her judgement, but...instincts weren't always bad, were they? And she was so sick of fighting herself. Of denying what she wanted. 

She wanted Fang. And if Fang wanted her, what was the point in fighting that, too?

"Let yourself have this," Lightning coaxed, and she felt like she was talking to herself, too. Encouraging herself, giving them both permission. She pressed her lips to Fang's cheek. "Please?"

Fang shuddered, and there was no denying the intoxicating rush of being able to affect her so profoundly with such simple touches. She'd never thought she could feel so powerful in the presence of an Alpha, and it only cemented her decision even further. Fang was all she didn't know she'd wanted.

Fang raised her head, pupils blown. Desire, before carefully leashed, burst from her scent in a hot, blanketing wave that made Lightning's breath catch.

"Okay," she murmured, and she moved, gently pushed Lightning to lie flat. "Okay, Light. Whatever you want."

"You—" Doubt prickled at Lightning, made her bite her lip. "You want it too, right? You don't have—"

Fang cut her off with a deep, searing kiss that stole her breath away. When she pulled back, her voice was low and rough and heady to hear.

"I want to. Promise."

Lightning relaxed, sinking into the blankets. "Okay. Good."

"Good," Fang echoed with a smile, and she kissed Lightning again.

There was something that felt so reckless, yet freeing about deciding to mate Fang. She was nervous, of course, but she was eager too. Legs falling open at Fang's slightest touch, surging into each kiss like her heat had started all over again, mapping out muscles and scars like it was her right to touch Fang like this, like it was natural as anything.

Fang fell into it just as eagerly, seemed to burn hotter and kiss harder and touch greedier than ever. Maybe it was an Alpha thing, knowing that each touch was with the goal of mating an Omega, or maybe it had nothing to do with dynamics and everything to do with the adoring way Fang had watched her since this all began. Either way, Lightning delighted in this new side of Fang, the way her control seemed to fray at the edges, feeling all the more wanted and good because of it.

Fang leaned back only so she could hold Lightning's legs apart in a wide, obscene spread, honest-to-Gods licked her lips as she studied Lightning's slick pussy, lips swollen with need. She rolled her hips, making them both moan as the flushed head of her dick rubbed against Lightning's dripping opening.

Her dark eyes scorched a hot trail up Lightning's body, one that Lightning could practically feel on her skin, before Fang finally settled on her eyes. 

"Last chance," she rasped, muscles flexing as she shifted her grip on Lightning's thighs.

She was so incredibly sexy, Lightning didn't know how she was supposed to form a single thought, let alone a protest.

In response, Lightning strained to spread her knees even further, face flushed, a quiet, mortifying whine slipping past her lips before she could catch it.

Fang groaned. "Fuck," she murmured hotly, and then she was pressing forward, inch after inch slowly sliding inside with a delicious burn that Lightning still couldn't get enough of, even after taking that knot so many times.

The pleasure of being filled was as mind-numbing as ever, the way it made her breathless, skin beading with sweat, her heart tripping in her chest, aching pussy just wanting more, more, more—but the pace registered soon enough, hard, yet steady, long drags out before gut-wrenching punches back inside to the hilt. Wonderful, fucking incredible, but—

"F-Fang," Lightning panted, eyes fluttering open.

"Mm?" Fang asked, dark eyes meeting hers, black as night and just as consuming. 

"What—what are you doing?" Lightning asked. When Fang only regarded her with confusion, Lightning crossed her ankles behind Fang's waist, rolled her hips up so she met one of those harsh thrusts with one of her own, keening low at the wonderful grind. "I'm okay," Lightning said, trailing her fingertips over Fang's, where she still held Lightning open. "You don't have to worry about me," she assured, and it was true; her heat barely even burned anymore, it was obvious it was nearly over. "Go on," and Lightning rocked her hips a little faster, gasping at the feeling of Fang so big and hard inside her, "Stop holding back."

Fang made a sound like Lightning had gutted her. Her head fell, hands dropping Lightning's thighs so she could grab her around the waist in two big handfuls.

"Fuck's sake, Light," Fang moaned, sounding tortured. "What are you doing to me?" 

Lightning opened her mouth to retort, something witty and teasing on her tongue—but then Fang's grip firmed and she slammed Lightning back on her cock, shoving herself inside.

"FU—AAAAAAH!" Lightning couldn't hold back the cry, the sudden, hot wash of arousal to be taken so forcefully.

"That what you wanted?" Fang asked, the question more snarl than sound.

"F-Fang—"

"No holding back," Fang reminded her, and she pulled out, snapped back in. She cursed under her breath, the sound barely heard over Lightning's own cries, and then she blanketed herself over Lightning, threading their fingers together, pressing Lightning's palms into the blankets.

Face buried in Lightning's neck, Fang fucked her hard and frantic, without any of her usual finesse, just a beast chasing after their pleasure, aiming for her release with an unshakeable, single-minded focus.

Lightning's eyes nearly rolled back, it was so fucking good. She felt used in the best of ways, providing her Alpha with exactly what she wanted, exactly how she wanted it. She was being good and docile, a warm and wet and welcoming home for Fang's deliciously huge cock, the swelling knot that kept catch, catch, catching against the edge of her aching hole. 

"Ah—ah—ah!" Fang was gasping, the sound of her hotter than the hard pace she was setting. Her knot started to resist sliding back out, making her bury herself deeper in savoring rolls of the hips, and she licked at Lightning's neck, against the thin, sensitive skin of her scent glands, and she moaned, sounding drunk, "Lightning."

Trembling all over, overwhelmed by pleasure and anticipation, Lightning stroked a hand through Fang's hair and then cradled the back of her head, urging her lips flush to her skin.

"Y-yeah," she whispered, breathless. "Please."

With one final, punched-out moan, Fang forced her knot inside, hot ribbons of cum flooding Lightning on the inside at the same time Fang sunk her teeth into her skin. There was a sharp, alarming sting as teeth sank past flesh, the unsettling feeling of hot blood sliding down her neck—

And then unspeakably wonderful, euphoric pleasure flooded her from head to toe, chasing her right over the edge of orgasm, crying out in a mixture of shock and delight. 

She hadn't thought it possible to reach a high further than a knot-induced orgasm, but she was wrong, she was so wrong, Fang's twitching length was so wonderful inside of her, filling her, but with her bite, was a combination that ripped her soul from her body, that robbed her of any identity other than Omega, Omega that belonged to someone, that was claimed—the pain of the bite was insubstantial in the face of that, everything mattered so much less in the face of that feeling, of the warmth that seeped into her very bones as the bond snapped into place, taut and strong and just a circling loop of excitement and ecstasy and perfect, blissful completion.

It was easy to sink into that high, to let herself be carried by it, but she opened her eyes when she felt an insistent nudge—in her head?—and Fang's lips against her, trailing to her cheeks, below her eyelids.

Light, Fang was saying without saying, dark eyes hooded and satisfied, yet urgent. When she had Lightning's gaze, she tilted her neck significantly.

Yes. The thought was more feeling than word and Lightning reached up, holding one side of Fang's neck while she tasted the other, salty, sweaty skin, the tremble of her pulse as Lightning licked her scent gland.

Biting Fang sent another euphoric wave through her, made her clutch her Alpha the best she could, flooded by the warm, tacky slide of Fang's blood, their nascent bond flaring again with a golden pleasure, saturating their nerve-endings with orgasmic satisfaction.

Lightning had no memory of parting, too caught up in the rush of feelings tangled in her head, her and Fang tangled in her head, happy and awed and viciously protective. Even when her heartbeat began to calm, as exhaustion began to suffuse her limbs, it was a secondary thing, distant and unimportant when compared to their bond. 

She drifted away, tired, sated, thoroughly, thoroughly unalone.

Lightning was aware of Fang long before she fully woke up.

Fang had always given the impression of being steady and unshakeable, calm in the face of certain doom, confident even when she had no clue what she was doing.

In the part of her mind Lightning now occupied, she felt all that, yet something deeper, slightly muted, yet no less strong. Fang's innate need to provide, to protect. Her fierce loyalty, her desperation to hold onto her new, fragile Pack.

Her wonder as Lightning's stirring made her do the same, as she felt Lightning through their new bond and found the shades of her that she kept just as carefully hidden away.

Fang's grip tightened around her waist, reminding Lightning she was tethered to a physical body. She opened her eyes.

Fang's eyes were opening, too, pupils back to normal, giving Lightning an unobstructed view of her beautiful olive-green gaze. 

A smile like she'd never seen before touched Fang's lips, small and happy and—giddy, and Lightning was smiling, too, just as open, just as embarrassingly happy.

"I'd ask if you had second thoughts," Fang murmured, caressing her cheek. "But I guess that'd be a stupid question."

"Yeah, it would be," Lightning whispered back. They were inside each other's heads but nothing had ever felt more natural. It would freak her out if it didn't feel so right. 

At some point, Fang's knot must have faded because they weren't locked. They were still tangled together, though, limbs entwined, Lightning using Fang's arm as a pillow, every inch of available skin they could manage pressed close. 

Lightning trailed her fingers over the raw, red ring at Fang's neck, delighting in the way she shivered. 

Marked. That's my mark.

"How does it feel?" Lightning asked quietly.

Fang grinned, pushing herself into Lightning's space for a searing kiss.

"Amazing. Perfect."

Lightning grinned back, a light chuckle spilling past her lips, too happy to catch it.

She wanted to say the same, wanted to say how incredible it was to feel Fang's thoughts and emotions, to share such closeness with someone who'd completely snuck up on her yet seemed perfectly suited for her.

But she didn't have to say any of that; Fang could feel it, her eyes already growing warm just from the emotions Lightning was feeling, so instead she pulled Fang back down for another kiss and murmured, "I told you so," against her lips.

Fang laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Lightning's heat was over and done with, that awful, hot prickle beneath her skin gone as if it had never been, and her body and mind hers once again—well, mostly. But she didn't mind the part she shared with Fang, especially since she had her own claim in Fang's. 

Ever the doting Alpha, Fang took responsibility for Lightning's state, exhausted and weak, barely able to stand after how...vigorous they'd been. She wrapped Lightning in her sari and carried her to the communal baths, refusing to let Lightning lift a finger as she worked her magic on the nearby generator and got the hot water flowing. She insisted on washing Lightning, massaging the aches from her spent body, and Lightning allowed it only on the condition that she could return the favor.

The entire time, they couldn't stop smiling; it was as embarrassing as it was addictive, being so purely, staggeringly happy. To just be connected to someone, to have her full self not only known but accepted. 

Relaxing against Fang and trusting her to take her weight, Lightning knew she needed to pull herself from this blissful haze before she got too used to it. Outside, the world still turned. The fal'Cie still risked turning them all to Cieth on a whim, they had no means to get back to Cocoon, and Serah was still a crystal. The moment they left the village, all of that still waited for them—death waited for them. She couldn't afford this happiness.

Soon, Lightning promised herself, turning in Fang's arms so she could kiss her. I'll face all of that. Soon. But just not now.

13 Hours Later

Lightning thought she'd known pain, true pain, when Serah was taken from her and turned to crystal, gone somewhere Lightning could never follow. She'd thought nothing would make her happier than having her sister back, flesh and blood and warm to the touch beneath her fingers once more.

And she was happy, she was mind-staggeringly relieved that Serah was all right, that despite incredible odds, she'd kept her promise, kept Serah safe.

But ice clenched around her heart as she let Serah go back into Snow's arms, as Hope and Sazh and Dajh laughed and cheered and celebrated coming out the other side of a fight with a God, all of them silhouetted by the rich golden light of sunset, the shining crystal pillar holding Cocoon resplendent with the amber and pinks and reds of sunbeams blazing bright.

Vanille was gone. Fang was gone. And Lightning's mating mark ached, the bond she'd enjoyed only briefly like a cold, gray thing poisoning the rest of her body—not severed, not entirely, but so muted and dull it might as well have been dead. Fang might as well have been dead.

So when the ground fell away beneath her feet and she found herself plunged into darkness, the deafening toll of a thousand bells shaking her to her very bones, it would be wrong to say that Lightning wasn't scared. 

She was scared; scared and confused and overwhelmed, she was certain that she really had died after all. 

But mostly? In the wake of Fang's absence and the brutal, painful ache of her faded mark? 

Mostly, she was grateful.