Alana Bloom took one whiff of Will and her nostrils flared like a spooked horse.

The quiet fields around the Omega's home were flecked with snow and a bitter wind was blowing in from the north. Autumn was dying, slowly being strangled by a determined winter that was steadily tightening its grasp on the countryside. Life was dwindling away. The woods that lined the perimeter had shed their lush summer skins and were now barren, reaching with dead fingers up to a sun that gave no warmth.

The Beta had parked her blue hybrid just a few feet beyond Will's front porch and was standing behind the open driver door with an incredulous expression on her face. She had driven an hour to Wolftrap to comfort her friend but apparently he had taken good care of that on his own.

Will was standing on the bottom step with his hands deep in the pockets of a thick winter coat, smiling slightly at her. Hannibal's scarf was wrapped securely around his neck.

The chill wind swept his piney scent to her and the startling aroma of the Alpha, fresh and strong, came with it. Amazement and disbelief filled her and the Omega released a bark of laughter.

"You really should see your face, Alana."

"Will, y-you and, you and him? You and Hannibal?" she stuttered as she managed to close her car door. Pale blue eyes were bright and imploring as she walked up to him and she barely acknowledged the many dogs that swarmed happily at her feet. A bright red pea coat hugged her tightly against the crisp breeze and she held down her own scarf that was snapping about her long dark hair.

Will shook his head, still smiling, and led her into the house.

"Do you want coffee?"

"Wha – yes, among other things at the moment. Information would be nice." She gave him an enthusiastic sniff as she followed. "Are you off of your suppressants too?"

The Omega's home was cozy, warm, and served just as much as a sanctuary as it did functioning household. This was the place he could go to feel safe. Isolated from the nearest town and the rest of the world, it was the one space where nothing could hurt him and he was content living alone with his pack of strays.

Will had put a lot of effort into fixing it up and adding his own touch. A comfortable living area was just off to the right of the entrance with soft plaid throws covering the furniture; a handful of hounds already occupied most of the comfy sectional. The area opposite served as a small workshop for tackle. Fishing line, bait feathers, and a variety of hooks were among the plethora of things organized on a wooden crafting table.

Alana's faint wildflower scent hung delicately around their heads as they moved into an inviting kitchen.

A few mutts still wagged away at their sides. They seemed particularly interested in Alana's legs and boots and were engaged in a sniffing assault. Sitting on an iron stool at the detached island, she smoothed her hands over her knees amid their prodding snouts.

"I was playing with Applesauce before coming over," she said more to them than to Will, and gave them a scratch behind the ears.

"He must smell interesting," Will replied with a knowing look and assembled the necessities for coffee while being purposefully over-casual. Alana's attention snapped back and her eyes widened at the tease.

"Okay, I can't take it anymore!" she exclaimed, jumping from her seat as it were hot and putting her hands on her hips. The dogs started at the abrupt movement but recovered quickly and resumed their snuffling. "Why on earth do you smell like Hannibal Lecter? Your scent is also way stronger than normal and I don't want to leap to conclusions but if you two slept together -"

Will jerked and almost spilled ground coffee all over the floor.

"Alana! No, we absolutely did not sl – it's for therapy!" he hissed, looking at her as though she had just insulted his mother. For a Beta, she had the intuition and sensitivity of an Omega and throughout their many years of friendship Will struggled to keep anything from her. When he had finally lost his virginity the first thing out of her mouth the next morning at work was 'tell me how big it was.'

She held her hands up in defense but lost none of her fortitude.

"Then why are you off the suppressants? You've been on them practically as long as we've known each other and please tell me why you smell like him."

Will took a moment to carefully pour the coffee and serve it before answering.

"The suppressants are making me sick. Dr. Lecter suggested the best thing would be to ease off them, and wearing an item of his," he gestured to the scarf, "will keep any Alphas away."

Alana raised an eyebrow while warming her hands around her mug.

"So why are you wearing it right now? Are there that many unbonded Alphas running around the woods of Wolftrap, Will?"

He shifted uneasily in his seat. The logic was there but he didn't have an answer for it.

"I just feel safer when I have it on," he said, avoiding her eyes.

She paused to sip her steaming coffee, as if rolling the idea around in her mind.

"Well, I can't blame you for liking cashmere. Are you planning on getting a fresh one every week, or…?"

The Omega blushed, picturing himself showing up at Hannibal's house every Sunday morning to switch scarves and share a brief kiss in the sunrise.

Shit, wait, what was that last part - ?!

"Ah, I didn't really get that far," he confessed, taking a long swig of hot coffee to think. He barely got farther than Hannibal's lips again before Alana shrugged, saying,

"Well if you're comfortable with it, I see why Dr. Lecter would suggest the idea. Any Alpha would be crazy to try anything with you wearing that thing. I have to say, it suits you too. But you're really not…?"

"No, Alana," Will said sternly, raising his mug to finish it off. "This is purely out of necessity. Believe me, I don't make it a habit of fooling around with my healthcare professionals."

XXX

Will really wanted to fuck his therapist.

As he sat across from the man in his second session, a week after the first, he was barely able to restrain himself.

He knew they were talking about something. They had been there for over half an hour and gone through two glasses of wine apiece so that had to mean progress was being made. Didn't it?

Hannibal was speaking, looking like an Alpha any Omega would swoon over. Those hooded eyes were focused on his face, appearing inhuman in the dim light of the office and somehow predatory. As if he was waiting for something. The expensive suit he wore fit him like a glove, complimenting in all the right places and Will had to frequently resist the urge to settle his gaze onto the magnetic space between his legs. If he allowed his imagination free reign for too long he would picture what was under those well-tailored pants and his own would get tight.

"Tell me how killing Garret Jacob Hobbs made you feel."

The minute crests and valleys of his lips parted and came together around words that Will heard but didn't register. Or maybe didn't want to register. Attempting to speak was difficult; each breath brought Hannibal's scent with it and he struggled to breach the musky fog. It was like trying to think through molasses.

Maybe it had something to do with the scarf. Since Hannibal 'prescribed' it to him he had barely taken it off. Alana had been right, there was no need to wear it outside of work but he even slept with it on. He had gotten used to nuzzling into it before falling asleep, a habit he knew was dangerous but was powerless to stop. He found the nightmares had diminished dramatically since donning it though, and he was finally able to get some solid rest. The Alpha's scent was becoming all he cared about.

His glassy eyes were drawn to Hannibal's broad shoulders and long crossed legs. Sitting in front of the source of the delicious fragrance was akin to tying a starving man to a chair and placing a cake in front of him. Fidgeting in his seat, he tried to calm the slowly churning mess of lust and resistance in the pit of his belly. He could smell himself which he wasn't entirely used to and it worried him that the Alpha might know what was going on. Fresh pine rose around him, spiked with the first embers of arousal.

The doctor had prescribed him down to one pill a day, miles away from where he was before. There had been a stretch where he was popping four or five every twelve hours. Now, barely restrained, his scent was returning with a vengeance.

It was strongest in the mornings where dawn would welcome him with drenched sheets and dripping skin. It seemed his sweat glands were affected as well; the drugs had been clogging up his pores and now he was sweating like a marathon steed. Loaded with pheromones and fragrance the scent of it was fresh and cold as if he had taken an icy dip in a stream laced with peppermint oil. It was so condensed that he had to open the bedroom windows to air it out.

Driving with the windows up was near impossible unless he wanted to suffocate himself. The journey to work, over an hour long, was spent in frequent bouts of rolling them down to expel the saturating odor and then rolling them back up so that he wouldn't freeze. He knew he would have to get used to it at some point, but for now he was fine with shivering mildly while commuting.

Despite this the nausea had disappeared almost entirely and he was down to one wince-worthy cramp a week. It was day and night from where he had been before, doubled over in a bathroom stall once or twice a day, groaning with the pain.

"Mm sorry, what was that?" he murmured, not even attempting to remember what the doctor's query had been.

Hannibal angled his head to the side, shadowing his small smile. His plan with the scarf was working beautifully. Will was obviously wearing it as he had instructed and then some. He understood enough about the Omega to know he was antisocial and preferred not to leave his house unless for work or other necessity, therefore his reaction at the moment had to be due to wearing it for extended periods of time.

That, and perhaps the wine.

Those bright blue eyes were distant, focusing only when Hannibal adjusted or said something, and then only on his lips or the apex of where his legs met. Yes, the Omega was falling, and falling hard. Things were sliding smoothly into place.

"How did you feel when you murdered Garret Jacob Hobbs, Will?" he repeated quietly.

Will twitched as mad laughter whispered in his ear, only to be drowned out by the explosions of gunfire. The weapon had been warm in his hands as if shooting him had just been a practice run and it wanted more. Before falling to Abigail's side his chest had expanded in a primitive breath of victory. Killing had felt good.

"You make it sound like he was the victim," he said, eyes narrowing.

Hannibal leaned forward, steepling his fingers in the negative space between his knees.

"Murder is defined as one human intentionally killing another," he replied softly, his accent flowing around the words. "You ended Hobbs' life purposefully, therefore you murdered him."

The chair Will was sitting in felt suddenly constricting. Pushing himself out of it, he savored the empty space and walked around to the back wall that served as one long bookshelf. Leaving Hannibal's scent was uncomfortable but the memory of the sensation he felt while pulling the trigger drove him to action. His blood surged as if perceiving another confrontation and his muscles tensed.

He had killed Hobbs, yes, but murder sounded far more malicious. From the moment he walked into the kitchen and saw the Alpha with a knife to his daughter's throat he knew someone was going to die. It was up to him to choose who it was going to be and his quick reflexes with the gun ensured it wasn't going to be Abigail. Although it very nearly was. It wasn't hatred or rage that made him shoot; it had been necessity.

He wasn't a murderer…was he?

Hannibal's scent crept up on him again and the Omega paused in front of the many tomes. A shivery anticipation stole over him as he breathed in the smell of sharp whiskey and musk.

"You still haven't answered my question, Will."

It was spoken politely but he could feel the Alpha's breath on the back of his neck and the spicy concoction swirled around him. Apparently he liked sneaking up on people.

Will turned and pressed his back to the shelves behind him. Hannibal was far too near to be considered professional and it was making his stomach perform some impressive acrobatics. Instinctively his head fell to the side in proximity of the man. Those dark eyes burned into his face, he could feel it; the Alpha was content with the show of submission but demanded an answer. He stood a couple of inches taller than the Omega and underneath the canopy of the second story railing he positively loomed, a devil in a fine suit.

Will felt like a rabbit caught in a snare while the wolf circled.

His thoughts flashed back to Garret Jacob Hobbs.

"As I shot him, I felt a quiet sense of…" he whispered, flicking his gaze up into the Alpha's handsome face. He barely realized that he was gripping the lower shelf behind him with white knuckles as if he would start falling otherwise.

"Yes?"

"…power."

The word was spoken quietly but with reverence.

Pleasure and satisfaction bloomed in Hannibal's chest and his eyes filled with inky blackness and lust.

"Good."

Will trembled at the deeply-spoken syllable. It vibrated into his core and nested there, a pulsing ball of approval that made the Omega's thoughts become a jumble. Wait, the doctor had liked that response? He wanted him to feel that way about killing someone? Something was wrong about that. The shadowy silhouette of a huge stag reared its head in a silent cry behind them.

The thought was the only string of rationality in his head at the moment. The Alpha's warmth was causing his body to break out into frequent, pleasurable shudders that ran from the top of his scalp all the way down to the ends of his toes, preoccupying the rest of his attention. A yearning whimper built in his throat; he was responding hopelessly to the man's proximity and was in danger of losing himself.

This wasn't good.

Hannibal ate up each delicious tremor and fixed him with a look so intense he wasn't able to look away. The Omega was helpless, trembling even, and the Alpha found himself feeling the first flickers of possessiveness as he delved into those deep blue pools. The idea of anyone else being with Will Graham was becoming distinctly distasteful. In fact, he was going to ensure that he was the only one.

"Would you like me to touch you, Will?"

It was a bold request but Hannibal couldn't help himself. He stepped forward, invading Will's personal space until there was no denying what he was doing. Cold pine washed over him, sugary sweet with arousal and he pulled it into the back of his throat in a luxurious inhale. It alighted in his blood like wildfire. Will was attracted to him, it was obvious, and Hannibal was more than willing to give him what he wanted but he also needed the Omega to feel in control. This was crucial and he paused to let him answer.

Heat bloomed under Will's skin at the words and his pulse quickened to a frenzied throb.

Yes, yes, yes! His Omega side was screaming, tearing at the walls of its carefully constructed cage. He was desperate for attention, blind with need, but the scars from old wounds still ached. Letting someone close was dangerous. Stupid even, but the Alpha was waiting for a response and he didn't have time to feel his usual sting of self-loathing. Desire clouded his eyes and his breathless answer had dropped from his lips before he could catch it.

"Yes."

Hannibal tilted his head and stepped up slowly so that their chests were almost touching.

Will let out a sharp huff of desire and another shuddering wave rippled through him at the Alpha's proximity. That was a tease and not fair. He arched his back away from the wall with a low whine, trying to create contact. At this point he didn't care if he sounded like a needy, pleading Omega, he just needed friction. There was a throbbing emptiness in him that demanded attention.

Hannibal wasn't even touching him yet and those dark eyes were sending pulses of pleasure straight through to his cock where they trailed off into electric tingles down his thighs. No one had ever affected him like this before. It was addicting.

Oh, shit.

Will looked up at Hannibal in anxious expectation and parted his lips. He needed more, needed more of this man all over him, in him, everywhere. And now wasn't soon enough.

"Please…"

The urgently spoken word was almost enough to make Hannibal snap. Growling, the Alpha surged forward and in one fluid motion grabbed Will's hips and pressed himself flush against his body. He buried his face in the sweet space under his jaw.

"Hannibal -!" Will gasped, pinned fast to the bookshelf by the larger man. The combination of the pressure and the Alpha's nose and lips ghosting along his skin made each muscle seize. He grasped Hannibal's sides like a man overboard at sea, reveling in the hard muscle beneath his suit. The warmth was amazing. It poured out and seeped into him like blood being absorbed by thirsty earth. There was something so comforting, so right, about having his heavy weight pressing on him like that. Like nothing else could touch him. His senses were filled with the Alpha's intoxicating scent and a pleading whimper escaped him. He still needed more.

Hannibal physically felt his restraint break upon hearing the desperate Omegan noise. The force of it was incredible; it shook him to his core, stripping him of all civility and reason. Groaning against Will's soft skin, he gripped the man's hips tightly and rolled into them.

Pleasure crashed through Will at the contact and he lost his breath in a fevered rush.

"Oh, god."

Suddenly the warmth at his neck was gone and Hannibal's face was an inch from his own. The Alpha was panting and his hooded eyes were blown so wide that almost no white was left. Two black holes, blank with a nameless, violent emotion, burned into him. His top lip raised in a possessive snarl.

"Tell me what you want Will, and I will give it to you."

His voice was a growl, deeper, huskier. It had lost its refined tone and the accent was sharper, making Will believe he was struggling to control himself. The idea was both alarming and satisfying, that somehow he had power over an Alpha. He was also a little terrified at what he could do but that didn't stop him from answering immediately – the friction on his crotch was mind-blowing and prevented him from thinking clearly.

"I want you to kiss me, Dr. Lecter," he breathed.

Hannibal gave him what he wanted with urgency. With lips that were warm and soft and insistent he sealed his mouth against the Omega's, groaning in satisfaction at how readily he was accepted. Using his tongue he encouraged Will's mouth farther open and delighted in the ensuing moan he received.

Delicious wetness and heat made Will shudder against the Alpha's broad chest and he grasped fistfuls of his expensive jacket, pulling him in for more. He didn't know what he was doing, all he knew was that Hannibal was grinding into his raging erection while he tongue-fucked him and he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen in his brain.

It wasn't until Hannibal slipped a hand underneath Will's sweater and splayed his hand across the small of his back that it all went to shit.

Will froze at the sensation and hissed softly against Hannibal's lips. One of his scars was right there, underneath the Alpha's palm. It wasn't raised, therefore invisible to any wandering hands but to the eye it was a long blemish that started at his hip and worked its way across his back to the other side. Just a little reminder of how vulnerable he was around Alphas. A flash of pain, years old but still horribly, horribly fresh, made him choke.

Hannibal sensed his hesitation immediately and withdrew.

"Forgive me," he said a little breathlessly, still gently holding the Omega's hips and trying to catch his eye. "I hope I didn't overstep my bounds."

Will couldn't meet his eyes. Tears were gathering in them as though someone had turned on the taps behind his skull. It wasn't Hannibal's fault; he was being amazing as usual. The perfect Alpha, ruined by an Omega that couldn't keep it together. His kiss still lingered on his lips as he cleared his throat, addressing the hardwood floor. Embarrassment flooded him.

"I shouldn't have done this," he whispered miserably.

He felt Hannibal's hand on his face, warm and soothing, but he growled and twisted away from the touch. Without another word he grabbed his coat and rushed out the door.