The scent, Joseph continues to sniff at the bark of the tree. He wants it, no, he needs it. He's addicted to it, a drug he keeps wanting more and more of. The sweet and fragrant scent makes the alpha inside of him euphoric. Joseph needs to find the source, he needs to catch his little bird and keep him in a cage where he will never escape.
Joseph takes one last whiff of the delightful scent before changing into a large silver wolf with piercing icy blue eyes. A wave of possessiveness urges him to mark his territory. He rubs his big head against the bark, covering the omega's scent with his own, sandalwood and citrus. He marks the surrounding trees as well before changing back. With his mind focused on finding the owner, he walks back to the carriage.
Joseph climbs on to the carriage and with a growl, orders the coach to head to the Moonlight Manor. The coach, not wanting to upset the noble, cracks his whip and the carriage speeds off in the direction of the Moonlight Manor.
Back in the forest, a man named Jack Whistler, more widely known as the Count's Soiree, hears a loud crack of a whip followed by the sound of wooden wheels rushing off. He sighs, The Moonlight Gentleman must've been in such a rush to leave the owner of the carriage he's using behind.
Jack knows the coach would come back to pick him up after dropping off the Moonlight Gentleman at his manor, he would most likely be back in an hour or two.
Jack drags a hand down his mask and groans. That French bastard better have a good explanation for leaving without him. Deciding he'd have better things to do besides moping around, he walks over to inspect the carcasses. Two large bucks lie on top of each other, eyes wide open and lifeless.
Jack sees a bite mark that could only be created by a wolf on each of the deers' necks. That's odd, he doesn't expect to see wolves on unmarked lands. The only thing he could think off makes him cringe in disgust. Omega Villages. They are mostly found on unmarked lands to protect themselves from the unwanted attention of alphas and betas.
He groans, he hates omegas. That bitch of an omega he courted used him. Using her omega charms to get what she wants: money, power, sex, anything. Jack, being an oblivious clown, gave it to her only to find out she cheated on him, having sex with another alpha in his bed. Outraged, he killed, decapitated and gutted their bodies. Hung the corpses on the iron gate to let whoever passes see what the bitch known as Margaretha Zelle did to him.
Just as he was having his little fit, he smells something. A sweet and spicy scent, something of ginger and jasmine, a weird mix but it fits so perfectly for him. Jack hid behind a nearby tree and waits silently.
He could see something akin to a blue vortex appear on the bark of a tree. In front of it, he could see a small figure. And Jack, although promising himself not to ever fall for these vile creatures ever again, could feel his dead heartbeat.
The small figure was not anything like the omega he courted. Instead of large, innocent eyes, this omega's eyes were a sharp, piercing forest green. Instead of delicate features, the omega had a fit body. Jack could see the outline of lean muscles through the thin green tunic. The omega's skin is not flawless and smooth, but scarred with marks Jack recognizes as knife wounds all over his tanned arms and besides his lips, with some burn marks on his skin. He is far from the perfect omega alphas dream off, but he's perfect for Jack.
As the figure moved closer, Jack could smell the spicy-sweet scent getting stronger. The other didn't seem to notice his presence as he walked closer and closer to where Jack was hiding. Jack could see tufts of brown hair beneath the green hood that he was wearing, it looked soft. Jack really wants to run his fingers through the hair.
The omega stopped in front of the deer carcasses before bending down, perfectly sculpted ass raised in Jack's direction. Jack could feel blood rush down south to where his friend is. How he wanted to grab the omega by his hips and knot him right at the spot, where anyone and anything could catch them mating in the open.
It sends a rush of possessiveness through him, his eyes flashing alpha red. The omega heaves a deer up to his shoulder and stands up. The large animal slung across the omega's narrow shoulders, not a single drop of sweat or a whine slips out of the omega's mouth as he throws the animal into the vortex.
The omega bends his back by a bit and a loud crack rings out through the forest followed by a loud, sweet moan. Jack bites his lips, drawing blood. He could imagine the sweet voice moaning out his name as he fucks himself into that tight ass.
Jack could feel his slacks get tighter as more and lewder thoughts fill his head. The omega once again bends down to take the other deer and it takes all of Jack's self-control to stop himself from lunging at his prey and biting into the tender flesh of his neck, claiming him as his omega.
The omega once again stands upright and walks to the portal, this time jumping in with the animal around his neck. The portal shines brightly for a moment before disappearing with the omega.
Jack emerges from the hiding spot, a very obvious tent in his slacks. He takes a deep whiff of the air. He could smell it, but just faintly. The sweet and spicy scent of ginger and jasmine. He wants more of it.
Just as Jack is about to take another whiff, he hears the familiar crack of a whip followed by the thunderous footsteps of horses coming to a stop. Jack gets up and adjusts his clothing to cover the bulge in his slacks. He'd have to stop his little search for now, but he will find his little omega no matter the cost.
Meanwhile, Joseph locks himself in his studies as he searches through various files of documented omegas from the check-up done by the local doctor every year. He scans through each of their scents. Mint and lavender, ginger and jasmine, chamomile and vanilla. Finally, he stops at a certain document. Yellow Roses and cinnamon. Joseph's eyes shoot up to the name written in neat cursive on the top of the page. Aesop Carl.
Aesop Carl, an omega, 21 years old. He was born on May 11th to Ann and Jerry Carl, both parents are betas and are elites. Details on the document state that Aesop was abandoned at the young age of three and found by an older omega named Violetta Rosemary who took him in and now is his legal guardian.
Joseph also finds out he works as an embalmer for the local funeral services although never actually appearing in the town, rather dead bodies get sent to a certain drop off zones where they would be picked up by Aesop and returned when he is done, usually in a coffin made by Aesop himself. The documents also confirm that Aesop is a craftsman that trades his crafts to traders.
Joseph has heard very little about his little bird's biological parents. Ann and Jerry Carl were never top tiers of the elite class, he most likely seen their names once or twice in the list of people who work for him.
However, he has heard of their deaths. It was not shocking, but still made headlines. Ann and Jerry's bodies were found hanging on a street lamp from a hook that pierced through their necks.
As expected, the Hunt made his announcement of his murderous deeds in the noble gathering the following day, stating that they didn't pay up the money they owed him. Their bodies were sent to the embalmer.
Joseph ponders if his little bird still remembers the people who abandoned him or if he has forgotten them, as their bodies had been embalmed to prepare them for the afterlife, just a nameless couple who met an unfortunate end.
However, Joseph has heard plenty about Aesop's guardian. Violetta Rosemary is a well-known shop vendor in the elite market, words about her spread like wildfire ever since she first opened a stall at the elite market.
She is known for her excellent weaving skills, her abilities to make her crafts look so exquisite and luxurious from materials that are incomparable to the expensive, top-quality textile and cloths that Joseph's companies produce. This has earned her the title, Soul Weaver.
Her clothes and crafts are always in high demand in the market to elites and traders alike, even the nobles can't keep their hands off her works. Joseph may not be a visitor to the elite market, but he is no stranger to Violetta's crafts. Most of his suits are of her works, all perfectly tailored to his size and with exquisite unique designs.
Joseph has never met the woman face-to-face. He usually orders his butler, Victor Grantz, to send Violetta a letter regarding his size, the type of suit design he wants and the type of material he'll send her. In return, Violetta would send him a notice on where to drop off the expensive silk and velvet materials, and when the clothing would be ready to be picked up.
This is wonderful, Joseph could find a way to send gifts to his little bird and lead him into his trap. To draw his little bird in with many gifts and lock him up in a cage, never to escape from his grasp. But he knows his little bird won't fall for it that easily, he needs to find a way to gain his little bird's trust.
Maybe he could send a letter of invitation for Aesop to have dinner with him at the Moonlight Manor when he sends off Victor to give Violetta his latest demand. Then he can invite him to horse riding around his manor where they could enjoy the autumn breeze as the orange leaves fall around them.
They could even just walk around town and talk to the townfolk as they walk by hand in hand. Or maybe they could take it slow. He'll just ask him out for a nice chat in the local tavern, have some drinks.
He could even ask the barmaid to make it extra romantic with the exquisitely engraved candlesticks he bought from the Chinese traders, and perhaps gift Aesop a lovely bouquet to top it off. Then he would present him with a courting gift and start courting him properly.
Joseph smiles at the thought of his little bird blushing from the advances and the look of disbelief that would be painted across his face when Joseph present him with the courting gift. The smiles and laughter they'd share from the countless moments and memories they'd have together.
Then they'd have pups, mini versions of themselves running around the Moonlight Manor. The thought sends his inner alpha howling with joy and pride. A happy omega mate and many pups, all in his grasp. Joseph smiles at the thought.
He gets up and calls while he walks over to a desk with a neat stack of papers, quills with feathers of various colors and sizes and a jar of ink. He takes a quill with an elegant peafowl feather and starts writing 6 invitations to a noble gathering at the Moonlight Manor.
Once he's done, he calls in the butler. A young man in a red suit and hat emerges from the door. His blond hair tucked neatly under the hat, blue eyes that shine with mischief. A small brown bulldog sits next to him.
"Send all of these letters by midnight, Victor, I expect you not to leave me disappointed."
"Understood, Sir."
The butler takes the letters from Joseph and puts them in the black bag slung over his shoulder. He bows to Joseph and leaves.
The following day, 7 elegantly dressed men and women sit in velvet red armchairs at the long elegant birch table in the center of the large meeting room. A big crystal chandelier hangs above the table, large crystals shimmering brightly from the rays of the sun. The nobles chatted with each other while drinking their glasses of white wine.
The grand double oak doors open widely and a man in a black suit and a wolf mask enters the room, cane tapping against the marble floor. Joseph clears his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen I'm sure you all haven't any idea on why I summoned you all here today." He takes a seat at a large armchair at the edge of the table between the Count's Soiree and Poseidon.
The chattering stops and all pairs of piercing eyes turn to stare at Joseph, a pair of black eyes that weren't present in the last gathering now staring at him with boredom.
The owner wears a black and brown vest with gold embroidery and a white undershirt hugging his built figure, his black curly hair covered by an iron hat and his face covered with a shimmering gold mask. He wears a pair of black slacks, an iron prosthetic replaces his right lower leg. The result of a freak unicycle accident that happened long ago. His right-hand clutches a giant blue and red rocket-like device.
"Make it quick, Moonlight. My mate is waiting for me. We need to discuss the courting ceremony," The Iron Hat Commander groans.
"As I was saying, there is an elite market day coming soon in the following two weeks," Joseph grins.
"Tell us something we don't know," The Queen of Heart sneers.
"Well, I was hoping we could pay the market a visit," Joseph smirks.
Blood Fan ponders, "I've never actually been to the elite market. However, I've heard lots about the upcoming one. I've heard that Soul Weaver is going to open up her stall there, I need to buy a new rug anyway and perhaps commission a kimono as well. I've just bought some expensive silk from the Wu Chang traders."
Poseidon calmly cuts in, "I've seen visions of the elite market lately, perhaps it's a calling for me to come to this event. I'll visit that Soul Weaver as well. I might require some new cloaks."
Red Scales grin, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I've got some news for this event. I've heard from a trader that came into my territory yesterday, that we are up for a pleasant surprise this event.'
The Count scoffs, "What could be good about a market ran by betas and omegas."
Red Scales sneers, "Now, now Count. This is Trader Murro we're talking about here."
"That well-known trader with his boar? His deals are quite exquisite, the wooden crafts are always so delicate and just wonderful. I reckon I bought my cane from him," Joseph pulls out his cane and unsheathes it, revealing a long steel sword. "A sword disguised as a cane, a unique piece indeed. Well-made as well, the wolf statuette at the tip of the cane looks very realistic."
"I've most definitely heard of him. The golden bell I gave my mate as a courting gift was bought from him. Lucky loves the pleasant chimes it makes," The Hunt hums.
"A trader with a boar? I think I might have bought a steel claw from him. Truly a beauty of a weapon. Razor-sharp and sturdy, high-quality steel as well. Marvelous invention," The Count adds.
Blood Fan chuckles, "I bought one of my fans from him. The painting on the paper folds was gorgeous and the engravings on the wood were so detailed and elegant. There was also a hidden blade behind one of the paper folds studded with precious minerals. I fell in love with it, I just had to purchase it."
"Cut the chase. What about Trader Murro?" Iron Hat scowls.
"Well, a henchman of mine eavesdropped his conversation with a certain pirate and news is that the Soul Weaver's going to have some company this market event," Red Scales laughs.
"And who might that company be?" Blood Fan questions while picking at her nails.
"I've heard that she's bringing a mechanic and weird fortune teller."
Poseidon suddenly sits up straight, golden eyes widening slightly before he coughs and mumbles something under his breath. Joseph could only catch some words and a name, 'Eli Clark'. Perhaps that's the fortune teller's name, but what could've gotten Poseidon so worked up. Joseph should ask him soon.
"A blacksmith."
The Count perks up at this, black eyes glinting beneath his mask as he rests his chin on his hand. His thoughts seem to wander off as he stares blankly at a wall, a dreamy look in his eyes. Joseph doesn't want to know what he's thinking of.
"Oddly enough, a blind person."
Blood Fan looks up from her nails in curiosity. Joseph won't blame her. A blind omega in an elite market is a death wish, something wrong is bound to happen.
"And last but not least, is that fabled craftsman he trades with."
Joseph freezes. The craftsman that the trader was talking about. Could it be Aesop? Can it be that his little bird is coming to the Elite Market? A sinister grin forms on his face. It seems that he doesn't have to lure in his little Aesop anymore, he's walking right into his trap. All Joseph has to do is wait.
Joseph stands up from his seat, the large armchair sliding across the marble floors with a loud screech. He adjusts his tie and taps his cane on the floor and with a smirk he announces.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, shall we pay the elite market a visit?"
Do you like my cookies?
They're made just for you.
A little bit of sugar but a lots of poison too.