Spoils

 Erik's knee was digging painfully into his back as he bore all his weight down upon T'Challa, grinding T'Challa's face into the sharp rocks.

T'Challa could feel the terrifying sensation of his skin ripping, tearing. His own warm blood coursed down his cheeks, mixing into the icy cold water. Ripples of red spread outwards from where they were grappling, drawing horrified gasps from the crowd.

T'Challa struggled and thrashed about desperately, gasping for breath as he choked in the shallow waters of Warrior Falls. Dark spots were beginning to appear in front of his eyes, his vision darkening from the lack of oxygen and the blood loss.

It slowly began to dawn on T'Challa...

...he wasn't going to win this.

His cousin was much too strong. Fuelled by a lifetime of anger and hatred, distilled into a burning, murderous desire to rip T'Challa limb from limb. T'Challa might still have stood a chance against Erik if he had pressed his advantage at the beginning, after he'd drawn first blood. But something deep within T'Challa - pity? Horror, at the thought of becoming a kinslayer like his own father? - had stayed his hand, and Erik had wasted no time in taking advantage of T'Challa's weakness. Erik certainly had no qualms about tearing T’Challa apart.

Upon the realization of his imminent defeat, T'Challa could feel his body begin to change, preparing itself to be claimed by the winning alpha.

Against his will, his muscles suddenly slackened and relaxed, his body stilling and becoming soft and pliant under Erik. The fight went out of his entire body.

His head fell forward, baring the soft skin of his neck to the rival alpha's fangs in a posture of complete submission.

The unprecedented feeling of slick gathering in his ass - something that he had never previously experienced, as an alpha.

No!

Horrified, T'Challa willed his lax muscles to just move, but to his terror, he realized that his body just wouldn’t listen to him.

This was…

Morphosis. 

An alpha's instinctive biological response to being bested by a rival alpha. A compatible rival alpha. This was Mother Nature's way of ensuring that the best alphas in peak physical health would not be wastefully killed in combat. An evolutionary adaptation that would trigger a change in dynamic from alpha to omega upon certain defeat by a compatible rival, in order to preserve the losing alpha’s genes and strengthen the species.

T'Challa had heard of this biological reaction before, although it was so rare as to be unprecedented in the thousand-year long history of the Challenge. He had never once imagined that this could possibly happen to him. T'Challa had gone into this fight with Erik expecting victory, or the release of death.

Not this. Never this.

Erik was his cousin! How could they possibly be compatible mates?

Above him, Erik stilled, suddenly becoming aware of T’Challa’s unexpected change in scent. He looked down towards T'Challa, his eyes dark with wariness and hostility.

With a last-ditch effort of will, T'Challa raised his head up to meet Erik's eyes. He managed to choke out desperately, begging, even as his tears started to well up and spill over, “Cousin, no, please - try to fight it -”

Erik's eyes widened in disbelief and horrified realization. Unconsciously, he took a step back.

Then his irises flashed with a golden glow as his alpha instincts took control, and T'Challa's heart sank, knowing that it was all over.

With a deep growl, Erik yanked T'Challa up from his kneeling position, pulling T'Challa close to his chest. He nosed along the line of T'Challa's jaw, inhaling deeply to take in T'Challa's new scent.

Gasps of shock rose from the audience.

T'Challa suddenly recalled that they were being watched. His cheeks flushed in complete mortification and he tried with renewed vigor to push his cousin away for the final time. But if he couldn't even beat Erik with his full strength as an alpha, he was definitely no match for Erik now, in his current condition.

Erik ignored all of it - the scandalized shouts of dismay from the audience, T'Challa's squirming, T'Challa's desperate, kitten-weak shove against his chest.

“You're hurt,” Erik murmured, his voice deep and husky. He carefully licked the deep cut on T'Challa's cheek, lapping up the blood, the tears. “Poor omega… Don't cry. Let me take care of you.”

The press of Erik's warm, rough tongue against his stinging wound made T'Challa tremble, his heart rate spiking. You did this to me! T'Challa wanted to scream, to thrash away from Erik's tight grip on his upper arms.

But already his mind was fading fast, becoming lost in a haze of heat and fevered pleasure as instinct took over.

There was an alpha before him.

A handsome alpha.

An unbonded alpha. 

T'Challa tilted his head back, sniffing the air. This alpha smelled good. Intoxicating. From his scent alone, T'Challa could tell at once that they were perfectly compatible. Here was an alpha who could give him strong, healthy cubs.

There was blood on the alpha's hands too. Fresh alpha blood. T'Challa could tell that he had defeated another challenging alpha very recently. Killed him, maybe? There was no other alpha in the vicinity.

A strong alpha. Strong enough to fight off rival claimants for his omega. To protect me. To protect and defend our cubs.

T'Challa could feel a purr of satisfaction rising through his chest, matched by an answering rumble from the alpha. The alpha’s hands roamed over T'Challa's body, gentle and exploratory, stopping ever so often to soothe and caress the sore parts on his body where bruises were beginning to form.

T'Challa let himself melt into the gentle, comforting pets.

Perfect.

Caring. Strong. Protective.

This alpha would be a worthy mate.  

Warm, strong arms encircled T'Challa's pliant body. Every point where skin pressed against skin sent shocks of pleasure through him. His lips were claimed in a searing kiss, Erik coaxing his lips apart, his tongue exploring the inside of T'Challa's mouth.

T'Challa sighed into the kiss, permitting the alpha's wandering hands to reach lower and lower. He gasped and squirmed in the alpha's embrace as his hands reached down to cup and squeeze T'Challa's ass. It was very bold of this alpha, a stranger whose scent was so unfamiliar, to take these liberties without even courting T'Challa properly first - but this alpha was so perfect that T'Challa didn't feel like playing coy. Didn't even want to test him first, put him through his paces.

And the alpha's boldness was extremely flattering. Arousing. T'Challa preened under the attention, even as one of the alpha's fingers slipped between his cheeks and teased at the rim of his slick hole, making him shiver.

T'Challa decided to submit immediately, to let this alpha do whatever he wanted. More than that - to entice this alpha to bond with him immediately. It was the only way to lock him down for good.

He parted his thighs slightly to allow the alpha easier access, nuzzling and licking into the column of the alpha's neck as he did so. He was rewarded with a full-body shiver of pleasure from the alpha.

The strokes and caresses became more urgent, less controlled. T'Challa's wet shorts were peeled down in one swift motion, exposing him to the chilly air of Warrior Falls.

“On your knees,” the alpha ordered, his warm breath ghosting across the shell of T'Challa's ear.

T'Challa obeyed immediately, burning with eagerness to please his alpha as he dropped to his knees on the soft sandy bed of the Falls. He could sense the alpha getting into position behind him, maneuvering T'Challa with his hands on T'Challa's hips. T'Challa arched his back and spread his knees apart, presenting himself. Hot slick trickled down the insides of his spread thighs.

With a forward snap of his hips, the alpha entered him in one long, slow thrust.

The stretch was almost painful, and wholly unfamiliar. T'Challa keened, squirming and whimpering on the alpha's cock even as the alpha's fingers tightened on his hips. The burn was almost exquisite in its intensity, filling a deep, primal emptiness within T'Challa that he hadn't even known was there.

T'Challa clenched down, gasping, even as his instincts screamed at him to relax and welcome the alpha in. The sensation was just too much.

“Shhh,” the alpha soothed as he stilled, clearly concerned about T'Challa's obvious discomfort. “I know it hurts, baby. Try and open up for me.”

T'Challa squeezed his eyes shut, panting as the alpha began to roll his hips slightly, opening T'Challa up with slow, shallow thrusts. Each thrust sent stabs of pain mixed with shocking pleasure through him - pain which gradually faded as he got accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling of taking an alpha cock for the first time. More slick gushed from his hole, easing the entry of the alpha’s cock into a smooth, slippery slide from where they were joined as the alpha finally started to pound into him in earnest.

Breathless whimpers and wrecked moans fell from T'Challa's mouth, swallowed up by the crash of the waterfall. The alpha's hand on his cock was swift and sure as he jerked T'Challa off, even as his own thrusts started becoming more erratic and imprecise as his climax built.

“Ah - !”

T'Challa came with a cry, his cum spurting into the alpha's hand. Helplessly, he clenched down hard, pulsing around his alpha's cock, drawing a satisfied growl from him. A few final thrusts, and then T'Challa could feel his knot expanding with breathtaking speed, stretching him wide enough to make him see stars.

At the instant of climax, the alpha's golden fangs closed down on the exposed skin of T'Challa's submissively bared neck, piercing through his mating gland.

There was a sharp, sudden stab of pain that made T'Challa squirm in discomfort, soothed away instantly by the warm press of the alpha's rough tongue, licking and kissing over the shallow bite.

Then -

The psychic force of the mating bond slammed hard into T'Challa's mind, causing him to black out.