*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･☆･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*
The Northern Military Academy was built on a foundation of discipline, cold stone, and the scent of iron. It was a place where boys were forged into blades. But on this particular Tuesday, the forge didn't just heat up—it exploded.
It began as a subtle shift in the air pressure, like the heavy, ionized silence right before a mountain thunderstorm. Then, the first wave hit.
The Explosion of pheromones. Well It wasn't just a scent, it was a territorial shockwave.
Aiden was only twelve, but his blood was a cocktail of the North's ancient frost and the Serpent's lethal fire. When his first Alpha heat finally snapped, it didn't trickle out—it erupted.
A thick, suffocating cloud of raw mountain pine, scorched earth, and ozone billowed out from the cracks of his dormitory door.
The effect on the Academy was instantaneous and catastrophic.
In the training courtyard, two Omega instructors suddenly collapsed to their knees, their breathing turning into jagged, desperate gasps as their bodies were forcibly dragged into a sympathetic heat by the sheer potency of Aiden's pheromones.
The Alpha cadets—boys who were usually boastful and aggressive—found themselves trembling, their instincts screaming at them to bow. This wasn't just an Alpha in heat,this was the King's Pressure.
"Clear the hall!" General Kevin roared, his own Alpha scent flaring in a futile attempt to neutralize the air. "Get the Omegas to the infirmary! Seal the West hall!"
But the air was already saturated. The academy's ventilation system, designed to keep the air fresh, was now pumping Aiden scent into every classroom, barracks, and dining hall. It was a crimson pheromones hat left everyone gasping.
Inside his dorm room, Aiden was oblivious to the war zone he had created. He had locked the door and slid down against it, his fingers clawing at the stone floor.
He felt like his skin was three sizes too small. Every nerve ending was on fire, and his neck—specifically the area over his Alpha scent gland—was pulsing with a rhythmic, agonizing heat. It had turned a deep, angry red, sensitive to the point that even the air felt like sandpaper against it.
"What is... what is happening?" Aiden choked out, his voice dropping into a register so deep it vibrated in his own chest.
The arousal was unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't the fleeting curiosity he'd felt in the library with Lorcan. This was a relentless, pounding demand from his own biology. He felt a sharp, agonizing tightness in his pants that made it impossible to move. With every passing second, the pressure increased, and then he felt it—a warm, slick dampness dripping from his hardened part.
Aiden's eyes went wide with a sudden, devastating shame.
Oh no, he thought, his face turning a shade of scarlet that rivaled his neck. I'm twelve years old... and I'm pissing on myself.
In his fever addled mind, he could practically see Arion standing over him with that disappointed, stern look. He imagined his father's voice echoing through the room:
"Aiden, you are a Prince of the North. You do not soil your uniform like a toddler."
"Papa is going to kill me," Aiden whimpered, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to be the first heir in history exiled for not being potty trained."
He was so lost in the shame of his accident that he didn't realize the dripping wasn't urine at all—it was the concentrated pheromonal fluid of a high tier Alpha entering his first cycle.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of fists hammering on his heavy oak door sounded like distant cannon fire.
"Cadet Aiden! Open the door!" a teacher shouted from the hallway, his voice muffled by the thick, sweet scented fog that now filled the corridor. "You're flooding the entire school! You need to take the suppressants!"
Aiden heard the noise, but his brain couldn't process the words. The Heat Haze had descended. To Aiden, the shouting sounded like the buzzing of flies. All he could focus on was the fire in his blood and the strange, phantom need for something—someone—to anchor him.
He crawled toward his bed, leaving a trail of scent so potent it would have knocked a normal person unconscious. He grabbed his pillow, hugging it tightly, his mind flashing back to a scent of strawberries and Southern jasmine.
"Lorc..." he groaned into the fabric." You dummy , I'm gonna die and you aren't here.."
The name felt like a prayer. He didn't understand why he was thinking of the boy who hadn't written to him in two years, but his instincts knew. His body was calling out for its match, reaching across the miles toward the Southern Isles.
Outside the door, the faculty was in a panic.
"We can't break the door down!" the Headmaster hissed, shielding his nose with a wet cloth. "The feedback from his mana could kill a commoner. He's a Triple Crown heir,his first heat is practically a natural disaster!"
"The Omegas in the laundry room have all fainted!" a panicked guard reported. "And the Alpha students are starting to fight each other for dominance because of the tension!"
The Academy, usually a bastion of order, had been reduced to a primal den. And in the center of it all, Aiden lay curled in a ball, his body trembling with the force of his transformation.
He was no longer just a boy studying tactics, he was an Alpha soon becoming a king .
As he drifted deeper into the fever, the itchy sensation in his ears returned, but this time it was accompanied by a low, humming vibration in his soul. He didn't know that miles away, in the South, a certain fourteen year old Prince had just dropped a tea cup as a sudden, sharp heat flared in his own abdomen.
Aiden closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, hot puffs. The last thing he thought of before the blackness of the heat coma took him wasn't the Academy, or the piss on his pants, or his father's scolding.
I'm gonna die! And I'm so young!!