Spoils

“Everything is proceeding as it should,” Doctor Sabra said, perusing the medical chart projected in front of her. “The external changes are already complete, and the internal changes are well under way. You will experience some abdominal pain and cramping in the next few days, but the entire process should be complete within two or three days. The mating bond should also have settled by then.

“In the meantime, you may find yourself becoming more temperamental as you adjust to the new bond, and to the omega hormones flooding your body. You might experience some mood swings or food cravings too. All this will stop once the change is complete.”

“I understand. Thank you, Dr Sabra,” T'Challa said dully.

Dr Sabra, a kindly, middle-aged woman, was T'Challa's personal doctor who had been taking care of him since he was a child. After the disastrous Challenge, T'Challa had been delivered to the medical bay for Dr Sabra to fuss over and patch up. She had quickly and efficiently healed the physical injuries which T'Challa had sustained, but there was nothing that the doctor could do for what was truly causing T'Challa anguish.

Bonded.

Mated.

To his own cousin, no less. A vengeful, volatile murderer.

Unbidden, the memory of their bonding flashed through T'Challa's mind again. T'Challa face heated up with complete mortification as he remembered how he had spread his legs for his own cousin in front of the entire country, begging to be fucked.

T'Challa had never felt so humiliated in his life. He had lost everything in one single, awful day. His kingdom. His dignity. Even his body was no longer his own.

A wave of crushing despair swept over T'Challa. For a brief, horrible moment, he actually contemplated killing himself.

With an effort, he shoved that dark thought out of his mind. No matter how terrible he felt, he just couldn't do that to his mother and sister, not after witnessing their grief over his father's passing. T'Challa knew that they wouldn't be able to handle another loss so soon.

No. He would endure this humiliation. He had to.

Even as that thought passed through his mind like a dark cloud, T'Challa could sense his mate drawing close. Automatically, he tensed.

The mating bond allowed the bonded pair to sense each other's emotional state if they were in close enough proximity, although it didn't permit mind-reading. T'Challa gradually became aware of Erik's rage and frustration bubbling away at the back of his head, burning hotter and hotter as Erik drew nearer.

Anxiety clenched within T'Challa's chest. He knew that his mate was furious.

The door slammed open. Erik stood in the doorway, the Dora Milaje flanking him on either side.

Dr Sabra took one glance at the enraged alpha and wisely got up to leave.

“Wait,” Erik snapped, his voice taut with tension.

Dr Sabra hesitated, looking wary.

Erik jerked his thumb in T'Challa's direction. “Is he pregnant?” he demanded.

Dread made T'Challa's blood run ice-cold. He had not even considered this, although of course, now that he had become an omega, pregnancy was always a possibility if he slept with an alpha. Unlike betas, contraception did not work reliably on omegas. Despite the best efforts of Wakandan science and technology, the will of nature could not be denied.

But Dr Sabra was already shaking her head. “No, Your Highness. The change is still under way. The entire process is expected to last several days as the omega’s uterus and other organs develop. Your mate won't be able to carry any cubs until the change is completed.”

Erik's response was a deep and heartfelt sigh of relief. “Oh, thank fuck.”

Instantly, T'Challa's hackles rose. The fury that swept over him was deep, primal and wholly instinctive. How dare his mate not want to have cubs with him?

“What did you just say?” T'Challa hissed in offended rage.

Erik's eyes widened. He raised his hands placatingly and said quickly, “Nah, baby, I didn't mean - ”

They froze, staring at each other.

T'Challa's logic gradually returned to him as his instinctive outrage dissipated, temporarily mollified by his alpha.

Of course he didn't want to be impregnated by his murderous cousin, under this farce of a bond. What had he been thinking?

“I didn't mean to say that,” T'Challa admitted, his cheeks flushing with shame. He couldn't believe that he had lost control of himself again so soon.

Erik scowled at him. “Same.”

He sank down into the chair that had just been vacated by Dr Sabra and waved for her to leave.

“This is so fucked up,” Erik said, his eyes briefly flashing gold with anger. “Bonded. Bonded to you! What the fuck. Ten fucking years I been trying to kill you, and now this. I should've just snapped your neck before I lost my fucking mind. Bet you're happy now, huh? Cheating death?” Erik sneered.

“Happy? Happy? Do you think I wanted any of this? To be bonded, raped by my own cousin? In front of all my people? In front of my own mother and sister?! I'd rather be dead!” T'Challa shouted.

“I ain't gonna apologize for that,” Erik spat out. “You know it's not my fault. You would have done the same thing to me if I'd lost.”

T'Challa wanted to deny it, but he knew that it would have been a lie. The pull that he had felt to Erik once the change had begun had been completely irresistible.

Tears of frustrated anger welled up in T'Challa's eyes.

“Hey,” Erik said, sounding increasingly panicky. “Hey, don't - don't cry.”

But once the tears had started falling, T'Challa found that he simply couldn't stop. It was as if a dam had burst. All the feelings of anguish, rage and shame that he had been holding back seemed to flood out of him at once. Harsh sobs tore through his chest.

The Dora Milaje were all giving Erik dirty looks.

“Go to him,” Okoye hissed quietly.

T'Challa could sense Erik drawing closer. A hand pressed tentatively against the back of his head.

“Stop crying,” Erik said.

The brusqueness of his alpha's words just made T'Challa sob even harder.

“Oh, fuck… shhh. Shhh. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean any of that.” Erik's voice softened into a gentle croon as his hands stroked through T'Challa's hair. “It's my fault, baby. I shouldn't have said all that. Don't cry.”

The rational part of T'Challa's mind knew that Erik truly hated him and wanted him dead. That Erik was just being compelled to say this to appease his mate, and that in this moment, Erik was as much a slave to biology as T'Challa himself. But the logical part of T'Challa was completely drowned out by his baser self, which just wanted comfort and affection from his alpha.

T'Challa couldn't stop a needy whine from escaping from his lips. Blindly, he turned towards Erik, reaching out and burying his face in the front of Erik's robe.

Erik put an arm around him, cuddling him close as he murmured soothing endearments.

“Shhh. My poor omega. I’m sorry. Don't cry, baby.”

The awful pressure was starting to lift from his head, his chest as he let Erik's gentle words wash over him. As T'Challa's mood gradually stabilized, lucidity started to return. He could tell the same change was happening to Erik too. Erik was suddenly stiffening, trying to pull away from T'Challa.

T'Challa jerked away, recoiling in horror. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment again.

“Dr Sabra said that I'd be temperamental and moody,” T'Challa said defensively.

“Yeah, I can fucking see that,” Erik muttered.

“I can't help it. She said I'd have mood swings until the change is complete. Maybe… would it be better if we just stay apart until this is over? I can't - when you're around, I can't help losing control.” It pained T'Challa to admit this, but he didn't want to lose control of his emotions again and put on yet another show of vulnerability in front of Erik.

“Yeah!” Erik said quickly. “Yeah, great idea.”

He leapt out of his seat and got up to leave. Then he paused, turning back to T'Challa as if something had just occurred to him.

There was a brief, awkward silence as Erik clenched his fists, a muscle working in his jaw.

“...Is there anything you want?” Erik ground out through gritted teeth, not meeting T'Challa's eyes.

T'Challa blinked, taken aback by this wholly unexpected, unprompted show of concern.

Realization struck. Erik's instinct to provide and protect would be especially intense during this period when they were newly bonded. Even as T'Challa found himself compelled by instinct to seek reassurance and comfort from his new alpha, Erik would equally be compelled to show that he could please his new mate.

As much as T'Challa disliked the idea of asking Erik for… anything, really, Erik was now his alpha and his king. He would have to get used to the situation.

T'Challa thought it over. “May I see my mother?” he asked.

Erik scowled. The bond didn't permit mind-reading, but T'Challa could guess what he was thinking. Erik despised his entire family and blamed them for his father's murder and his own abandonment. Ramonda, especially, had called Erik an interloper to his face and tried to deny his right to challenge for the throne.

But Ramonda was still his mate's mother. And it was difficult for an alpha to deny a reasonable request from his mate.

“Fine,” Erik said reluctantly, as if the word had been dragged out of him. “I'll send word for Ramonda and Shuri to be brought here.”

“Just my mother, please, for now. Not Shuri.” T'Challa couldn't bear to face Shuri just yet. He didn’t think that he’d be able to handle her tears and heartbreak.

“Whatever.” Erik shrugged.

“Promise me that you won't hurt my family,” T'Challa added.

“Fuck no. I'm not gonna make a dumb promise like that.”

“Erik, please! They're your family too.”

“Sure didn't treat me like family back then,” Erik sneered. “But now that I'm in charge, y'all suddenly wanna start playing that card?”

“It wasn't their fault! They didn't know. My father kept it all to himself. Even I only found out the truth after I became king.”

Erik didn't look convinced in the slightest.

Desperation rose within T'Challa. “Please. They're innocent. They had nothing to do with any of this. Please, I'll do anything you want.” Hot tears pricked at his eyes again. “Cousin. Alpha, please.”

It hurt T'Challa's pride to beg, but he was willing to throw his dignity away if it meant keeping his family safe.

Erik sighed and gritted his teeth again. “Alright, alright. Stop - stop crying. You're giving me a fucking headache. Look, I'll leave them alone as long as they don't make any moves against me. But I'm not gonna go out of my way to be nice. How ‘bout that?”

Thank Bast. A wave of relief swept through T'Challa. He even managed a wan, watery smile at Erik.

Erik rubbed his temple with his fingers. “That better be it. Anything else?”

T'Challa hesitated. “Can I go back home now?” he asked.

Erik frowned. “You're already home. We're in Wakanda.”

“I mean, go back to where I live. Back to my quarters in the palace.”

“No,” Erik said immediately. “You're staying in the medical bay. The doctors are gonna keep an eye on you.”

“There's nothing they can do for me anyway,” T'Challa protested. “The process is just going to take its course.”

“It's safer here. What if there's a medical emergency? What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong. I don't like it here. I don't feel - I want to go back.”

“No. And that's final.”

“But -”

“If you keep this up I'm gonna punish you,” Erik warned. “You want me to spank your ass?”

Tears welled up in T'Challa's eyes again, but this time Erik was completely unmoved. T'Challa could tell that Erik thought this was just a silly whim, but he was unable to explain the sudden, deep-seated urge to go home. And he didn't want to be punished by his alpha for asking again, like an unruly omega who needed to be disciplined.

“If I may -” Okoye said.

“What?” Erik said, rounding on her aggressively.

“Perhaps you should reconsider this, Your Highness,” Okoye said calmly. “An omega’s instinct is to draw close to his pack and his nest in times of need. This is what T'Challa is doing now. It's not just an unreasonable whim - he'll genuinely feel better if you let him go back.”

“I -” Erik broke off, giving T'Challa a conflicted sideways glance.

“The change will be hard on your omega’s body. He'll recuperate faster if he feels safe and secure, at home, surrounded by his pack,” Okoye prodded.

“…Oh, what the hell. Fine. You can go back.”

T'Challa's heart leapt.

Erik turned to Okoye. “You go with T'Challa. You, and three other guards. If anything happens to him, I'm gonna slit your throats,” Erik snapped.

Okoye was completely unfazed by Erik's threat. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“The doctor too. Make her stay with T'Challa until it's over.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” T'Challa murmured. Something inside him uncoiled with deep, purring satisfaction.

Everything was right now. Just as it ought to be.