Lukas Braddock looked down at his hands as the wagon swayed. They didn’t look any different than they had a week ago. Calloused from hauling water and pitching hay, cracked thick nails that always were dirty no matter how hard he scrubbed them. His skin was as deep and dark as the old leather harnesses on the mules. They were the same hands, so why was everything so different now?
He remembered a sudden dangerous heat burning in his chest and lower in his groin. The overwhelming urge to find someone he’d never met, someone who would fill the awful howling, hungry void churning within his gut. His three little sisters stared at him with wide green eyes as he began panting and writhing in confusion at the dinner table.
His terrified parents locked him in the barn. Once the hot delirium cleared from his brain the sad old village sawbones told him the awful truth. Alpha. He was a pitiful, broken thing now. A film of terror still coated the inside of his mouth and threatened to flare up whenever the tip of his tongue caught the new keen edges on his canine teeth. He was an Alpha and to protect everyone that he loved he had to immediately report to the recruitment center in town. The government knew how to deal with his kind.
“We’ll be in town in an hour or so. You can see the red roof of the church from here.” His father didn’t need to tell him that. Nothing had changed in town since before Lukas was born. The red roof of the church was a constant thing, just like the sun rising in the east. His father spoke to him in the same soothing voice he used for his nervous horses and Lukas hated that it worked just as well upon him.
“Lukas, my boy, I know this is difficult for you. But we have to do this. It’s the law. And the law says that all Alphas have to report to mandatory military service within a week of their first rut.” It felt like his father was trying to convince himself, rather than calm his nervous only son. “There’s nothing we can do about it.” The reins jingled in his hands.
“Yes, I know Da. I just never pictured myself as a soldier.” He’d never really thought about his future to be honest; time was an endless flow of chores punctuated by meals under the wide blue-grey sky. “I guess I thought I’d meet a girl at the harvest fair, have a family and help out on the farm. Like you did. Like grandfather did. Like everyone does.”
“That doesn’t have to change. It might just take a little longer now.” His father sighed. “Your mother and I are Betas. We knew there was a chance that you’d turn out this way, but you’re still a part of our family. When you are done with your service, you should come back home. There’s always a place for you there.” One of the mules tossed their head and his father cooed and tongue-clicked at the stubborn beast. “Now, now Mildred, stop that.”
Lukas let out a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding and unclenched his fists. He wiped at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thanks Da. I’ll do that. Someone has to help put up the summer hay.” It was a little easier to look to the future now that he had a place to return to.
His prayers for mercy seemed impotent and empty. What sort of goddess would let one of her children endure this suffering? He’d had his doubts about the All-Mother before but he’d kept them to himself. Better to blend in than stand out. Ha. Lukas sighed. Fat chance of blending in now.
The clopping of the mules’ hooves was the only sound as distant hazy buildings on the horizon slowly sharpened into focus. A warm breeze ruffled Lukas’ short choppy black hair. He inhaled and held a deep breath, rolling the scent around in his nose. His sense of smell was acutely heightened now. All the better to find an Omega to mate with. The doctor had given him a basic primer on Alpha biology. Rut. Mating. Something called knotting that made him blush to think about. His hands were the same but his cock and teeth weren’t.
He didn’t know what most of the words the doctor told him had meant, but that was his fault for being so stupid and rut-addled. School wasn’t something that would fix him either, you couldn’t make a racehorse out of a mule. The army would probably teach him everything he needed to know. All he had to do was follow orders. He could do that.
“Da, I’m sorry.” Lukas said softly and his father shrugged with one shoulder. This wasn’t anything that an apology could fix. “I’ll be back. Maybe I’ll bring home a war-bride, someone exotic and blonde with blue eyes, big hips and a big chest like those dancers at the harvest fair.”
“Be sure that you do. I’d love to see you happy with family of your own. Be sure to find a gal who has enough brains for both of you.” Lukas’ father reached back and ruffled his hair. “Come back to us, my boy.” Lukas turned to look at the land behind them so he wouldn’t have to remember the sight of his father crying.
Wide fertile floodplains green with promise stretched out behind them, misty blue mountains in the distance. Hawks circled lazily in the sky, crying out. Dots of cattle and sheep speckled the green. Lukas swallowed hard as the wagon lurched from side to side. This was worth protecting from any enemy especially the godless heathens of the Federation.
He’d do anything to protect those that he loved.
It was never good news from the front; they wouldn’t waste a telegram on something pleasant. Major Simon du Trop rubbed his temples as he read the latest telegram from command. It said the same thing as last time. They needed new soldiers, fresh meat for the grinder.
Stop that, he admonished himself. There was no point in being cynical. He had to trust that High Command was doing everything they could to bring the war to an end.
The Endless War was what everyone called it under their breath. Babies born at the beginning of the conflict with the Federation were retiring from military service now. Close to fifty years of conflict, with no end in sight.
The continent was split down the middle by the Midford River, a natural boundary that prevented either side from advancing decisively. Simon looked at the hand-drawn map on the wall of the recruitment center for the thousandth time. At the narrowest point of the river was naturally where the fighting was the thickest. Everyone wanted control of the massive Midford Bridge for themselves. That’s where he was going after processing this last recruit.
He glanced at the clock on the table that served as his desk. Farmers only paid attention to sunrise and sunset, he rapped his fingers on the wood impatient to leave. Every squad leader had to take two weeks off to man a recruitment center. It was supposed to be a reward for good service, but Simon hated it. It felt like a waste of time, time that he could be using to train his squad. Especially in this flea-speck of a town where the highlight of the week was the mail delivery after Sunday services. Every button on his dress uniform gleamed, his rifle was smooth and primed for action and his satchel packed for travel. All he could do was wait for the last recruit to show up.
An Alpha, of course. Newly presented, wet behind the ears with rut. He didn’t enjoy taking only sons away from their fathers, especially in hamlets as small as this one. Family was important. Even though he’d never had a family outside of the nuns at the orphanage, he understood that simple truth. It was probably why he tried to take such care of his personal squad.
Each of the Alphas under his command were a part of his own little family. It was his moral imperative to keep them alive and fighting the Feds for as long as possible. It was his job to make them survive to return home to these quaint little villages where no one feared invasion or destruction.
Where High Command saw an asset, he saw a person. Someone with hopes and dreams for their beautiful nation. That was worth fighting for. Leading by example was the best he could do since he wasn’t high enough in the chain of command to change tactics or policy. Yet. There was still time.
He was young, not quite twenty-five, still in the prime of his life and eventually he’d be recognized as a superior soldier. He didn’t have any other skills. He couldn’t mention in polite company that he was rather efficient at killing people. It was harder to keep folks alive and eventually that would be what he’d be renown for. Simon leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling rafters and dangling supply bags. Someone had hung a bundle of fragrant lavender to dry; it made the inside of his nose itch.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
A knock on the door. Simon schooled his face into a confident smile, an expression that radiated optimistic competence. He believed as fervently in the Holy Empire’s cause as he had when he first enlisted. The blood spilled, the lives lost— it had to mean something for the greater good— otherwise... That was a thought for another time, perhaps a morose night spent with the company of a glass of brandy.
Simon opened the door. A farmer in his best town clothes stood at the threshold, but Simon’s gaze was drawn to the dark-skinned young man at his side. Broad shouldered, almost as tall as Simon himself and thick with muscles from hard daily physical labor. His figure was striking but his face was arresting.
Those eyes. Eyes as green as the endless plains surrounding them. Eyes you could lose yourself in. All the girls must be pining for this lad. And a fair amount of the boys.
He couldn’t be an Alpha. He was too lovely, a face that wouldn’t be out of place on a theater marquee. He was going to be trouble at base camp. Simon blinked as his mask of confidence faltered for a moment and then he recovered with a cough. “Pardon me. I am Major Simon du Trop. What brings you to the Holy Empire’s recruitment center?” A formality wrapped in politeness, there was only one reason these two would be on the recruitment center threshold.
“My son. My only son, Lukas. He’s an Alpha—“ The farmer’s voice faltered.
The young man put his hand on his father’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. The farmer’s head dipped down and he pressed his own hand upon his son’s. “I am Lukas Braddock. I’m here to report for my mandatory service. I presented as an Alpha six days ago.”
And yet your sweet voice still sounds like a choir boy’s. Yes, this lad was indeed going to be a tremendous pain in Major Simon du Trop’s ass. “As a representative of the Holy Empire’s Army, I accept your enlistment and welcome you to my unit.” Simon held out his hand and the young man hesitated before taking it.
A symbolic handshake, that’s all it was. There was no need for Simon’s heart to lurch in his chest. Lukas’ eyelashes cast shadows upon his cheeks, fringes of dense, long lashes. Stop being an idiot. You’ve seen thousands of pretty faces. Simon chided himself as the handshake lasted longer than it should. You’re acting like a school boy with a crush. He dropped the handshake, rubbed the back of his neck and smiled to cover up his sudden nerves.
“Well there’s some paperwork to fill out and then we will catch the next train to base tomorrow morning. Welcome to my unit. It is not going to be an easy life for you. Remember that if you devote yourself to the service of your country, then you will find your way lit even in the darkest places.” Simon directed his attention to Lukas’ father. “I will do my best to make sure your son returns to you. I swear this upon the All-Mother herself.”
“May I have a moment with my Da?” Lukas asked, a telltale glimmer of tears dotting the corners of those green eyes.
“Of course. Take as long as you need and join me inside when you are done.” Simon shut the door behind him. This was the worst part of recruitment. He felt as if he were stealing away the young Alphas’ potential as well as their bodies.
He didn’t believe that Alphas were inherently savage creatures, his years of experience spoke to the contrary. They were the same as Betas, for the most part. The few that survived military service usually had quiet lives afterwards, content to put the horrors of the battlefield behind them. Of course their rut periods were messy and inconvenient, but as long as there was the comfort tent then that was easily remedied.
The door opened after a while and Lukas entered the one room shed that served as the recruitment center. His lovely eyes were rimmed with red and he wiped his nose with a handkerchief embroidered with his initials, a gift for a sudden departure. “I didn’t bring anything, like the pamphlet told me to, but my Ma wanted me to have this.” He held up a bundle of food, sniffled and then coughed. “I guess soldiers aren’t supposed to cry.”
“You haven’t signed any paperwork yet. Cry all you need to.” Simon poked the ashes in the potbelly stove and added kindling. “Care for a cup of something warm?”
Lukas nodded and set the bundle upon the table that served as Simon’s kitchen and desk. Simon set the kettle on the stove and turned around to a farmer’s feast. Fresh crusty brown bread studded with dates and nuts, butter pats shaped like leaping fish, cured meats rippling with white fat, soft mild cheese and fruit right from the trees. He started drooling involuntarily and swallowed it back, trying to retain what was left of his dignity.
“It’s not much, but would you like to share it with me?” Lukas asked, meek and unsure. “Sir! Sorry, I forgot to say that. My Da reminded me to say that.”
“Again, you haven’t signed the paperwork or gotten your tattoo. For now, you’re fine leaving the Sir off. I would be honored to share your bounty. Is all of this from your family farm?”
“Most of it. My sister, Rachel, made the butter, she always uses the fish mold because it takes the most skill to get all the scales to show up and she likes to brag about that. Lizzy helps Ma with the bread. Becca climbs the fruit trees to get the best pears before they fall and bruise.” Lukas beamed with pride at his family’s accomplishments. “I shot the deer for the sausage and the neighbor helped me cure it. Da made the cheese. He’s the only one that can stop Daisy from kicking over the milk bucket—“ He paused and the light dwindled from his face. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about that farm stuff.”
“On the contrary, I very much enjoy hearing where my food comes from. It helps me appreciate all the hard work it takes to fill my belly.” Simon shook tea leaves into the diffuser. “The nuns made us pray to the All-Mother for every meal but also say thank you to Sister Rosalie for doing all the actual hard work.”
“Nuns?” Lukas asked as he sliced the meat with his belt knife.
“Well yes. That’s where I grew up. That’s where my last name comes from. The full name is the Empirical Orphanage du Trop. That’s where the unwanted children from comfort omegas end up as wards of the Empire.” Simon poured hot water over the tea. “I’m quite literally a bastard. Here you go, it’s not the best tea but it beats plain hot water.”
Lukas took the crude ceramic mug from Simon. “Do you tell everyone you meet that you’re a bastard?”
Simon sat down on the bench across from Lukas and muttered a perfunctory prayer before taking out his own belt-knife, smearing a hunk of bread with soft cheese. “Most people would know from my last name, it’s the same as the orphanage. It’s better to get it out of the way before you hear all the ‘that blonde bastard’ jokes at base camp. Oh this is really good. You can taste the sunshine and the happy cows.” Simon licked at his fingers and Lukas looked away quickly, a flush upon his cheeks. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Half my recruits come from the countryside. That’s where people have big families. More kids mean more chances that Alphas and Omegas will pop up. It’s just math. Can I have some of that pear?”
“It’s been a while since you’ve had good food, hasn’t it?” Lukas asked as he slathered butter upon a hunk of bread.
“The only thing the Holy Army lacks is anyone who can cook. Rations fill your belly and are better forgotten. This is a real treat, thank you for sharing it with me.”
“You’re going to be my commanding officer. It might be a good thing to be in your favor.” Lukas hazarded a sheepish smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Definitely trouble.
“Oh you don’t have to bribe me with food. I mean, don’t stop trying, this is amazing, but it’s my job to make you into an excellent soldier. To give you something to believe in, something to fight for.” Simon popped a slice of sausage into his mouth. “Do you have a sweetheart waiting for you?”
Lukas stammered and ducked his head as his cheeks blazed red. Cute. Real goddamned cute. “No- no- I don’t. Girls don’t really pay any attention to me.”
“Really? Are all the girls of marriageable age around here blind or stupid? Maybe both?” Simon raised his eyebrows.
“Stop making fun of me.” Lukas squirmed on the bench. “I guess they could smell the Alpha on me. It makes more sense to chase after the Betas because they inherit first and they all want their own farms to rule over. There weren’t any Omega girls my age.”
“What about Omega boys?” Simon asked as the fire snapped in the potbelly stove.
“I didn’t think that they really existed.” Lukas sighed. “I’m sure they wouldn’t look my way either. Why are you asking?”
“You’re going to be living in close quarters with both Alpha and Beta men, like myself. It is a given that occasionally you will go into rut and the quickest way to end a rut is to spend the night with one of the army’s comfort Omegas. They’re all male. War is no place for a woman.”
“I don’t understand.” Lukas admitted and he ran his hand through his jet black hair. “Because I’m an Alpha, I’m pretty stupid.” Simon felt the sudden white-hot urge to backhand the person who had told Lukas that.
“You’re not stupid. You’re new to all of this. That’s not a sin. You’re young, rural and inexperienced. Making fun of you for those facts isn’t helpful or of any benefit to the Empire.” Simon tapped on the table to emphasize his point. “Your secondary gender doesn’t define you as a person. No matter what you’ve heard, Alphas are no less than Betas or Omegas. In my eyes, at least. And I’m your commanding officer so you have to listen to what I say. That makes it easy.”
“So I just have to believe in you?” Lukas asked, his face so open with innocence and hope that Simon had to crush the urge to embrace him.
“If that makes it easier for you, then sure.” Oh don’t give me that power over you, lad. I’m not strong enough to avoid the temptation. “Like I said, you need something to fight for, something to believe in to survive this.” Lukas nodded with fierce determination. “It’s getting dark out there. After we finish this extraordinary spread of food, we should call it a night. As thanks you can have the bunk and I’ll put my bedroll on the floor.”
“Oh I can’t have you do that! I can’t take your bed.”
Simon laughed. “I’m not the angel that you seem to think I am. After you spend a night on that lumpy bunk, you’ll wish that you’d slept on the floor too.”