Chapter 3: The Great Masquerade
Dean groaned and dropped his head into his folded arms, collapsed against his patient horse's side. Khan leaned down and sniffed the omega's hair, nibbling gently before snorting and looking down the small cliff at the huge army camp arrayed beneath them. "Man, what am I doing here? There's no way I'm going to convince an army full of alphas and dominant betas that I'm one of them. It's going to take a miracle to get me in there."
A deep, booming voice filled the area, smoke and flames rising from behind a nearby boulder as Dean jerked his head up, shocked. "Did I hear someone ask for a miracle?!"
Dean yelped and jumped back, staring at the huge shadow cast against the cliff wall behind him, not sure if this was something he could fight or not. "A ghost?!"
The shadow chuckled as it shrunk, whatever was casting it moving closer as the fire slowly faded. "Get ready, Dean Winchester; your serpentine salvation is at hand, for I have been sent by your ancestors to guide you through your masquerade! So heed my words, 'cause if the army finds out you're an omega, the penalty is death!"
Dean leaned forward cautiously as the shadow shrunk somewhat, his nose twitching as he tried to scent anything through the smoke. "Who are you?"
"Who am I? Who am I? I am the guardian of lost souls! I am the powerful, the pleasurable, the indestructible Kevin Tran." As he spoke his name, the slender dragon emerged from behind the rock, smoke still leaking from between his teeth as a purple cricket followed in his wake. The red dragon with a gold belly was hardly awe-inspiring, and he definitely did not look powerful, but it still took Dean a long moment to regain his voice.
The omega reached out and picked up the snake-shaped creature, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on. "My ancestors sent a little lizard to help me?" Honestly, he had no idea why his ancestors would help him at all, but he was willing to admit that he could use any assistance available. Even from a tiny red lizard.
"Hey, dragon, dragon, not lizard," Kevin protested, twisting in Dean's grip to climb his arm and look him in the eye. "I don't do that tongue thing."
"You're . . . um . . ."
"Intimidating? Awe-inspiring?"
Khan snorted, tossing his head as he tried to decide if he should bite at the weird lizard thing on his rider's arm. He was a war horse, an incredibly well-trained one, and he was normally very good at identifying threats. "Tiny," Dean replied flatly.
"Of course! I'm travel-sized for your convenience. If I was my real size, your cow here would die of fright." Khan, clearly deciding that this tiny dragon was a threat, snapped his teeth at him, trying to chase him off of Dean's arm. Kevin raised one paw and glared at the horse, snorting a puff of smoke at the huge beast. "Down, Bessie." He turned back to Dean, grinning at the tall omega. "My powers are beyond your mortal imagination. For instance, my eyes can see straight through your armor."
Dean growled and snapped his teeth at Kevin, smacking the tiny dragon off his arm and into the dirt at his feet. The tiny purple cricket that had followed the dragon to the army camp chirped something snarky, Khan pawing at the ground nearby.
"Alright, that's it!" Kevin jumped to his feet, ears pinned back as he snorted dark smoke at the omega he had chosen to help. Dean found himself wondering if the creature could actually breath fire or if he could only manage smoke. "Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family!" Dean started at the word, at his greatest fear, as Kevin glanced at the cricket and waved his hand. "Make a note of this. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dis—"
Dean clamped his hand over Kevin's mouth, his scent repentant under the layers of blockers and artificial scents he had put on the night before. "Stop; I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'm just nervous." He waved at the rows of tents arrayed below them, reaching up to pat the pouch in his armor that held the potions and herbs that made him smell like an alpha and would prevent his body from doing anything overtly omega, like producing slick or going into heat. "I've never done this before," he whispered, gray-green eyes flashing in the morning light. The eye drops had worked, preventing any gold from showing through when he got emotional, though he wasn't sure he liked the faded shade of green they had turned.
Kevin smiled gently and walked up to Dean's side, reaching up with one tiny paw to pat the human's arm. "Then you're going to have to trust me," the dragon soothed, the smoke gone from his breath. "And don't slap me anymore. You clear on that?" Dean nodded, eager to have some sort of support and friendly companionship during his masquerade. "Okey-dokey, let's get this show on the road. Cri-Kee, get the bags. Let's move it, heifer."
Khan tossed his head, clearly irritated at the dragon's tone, but Dean soothed the war horse before taking his reins and leading him down the mountain. What choice did he have but to follow the creature and try to bluff his way into the camp?
Kevin tucked himself into the back of Dean's armor, Cri-Kee safe beside him. "Okay, tell me what you know about this camp and I'll help you out."
"Well, this is the Crystal Lake Camp, and all noble conscripts from the neighboring villages were sent here. We're close enough to the Imperial City that it's mostly their nobles, maybe even the Emperor's younger children who have volunteered to serve. There aren't any other nobles in my town ranked highly enough to be sent here, so at least I don't have to worry about being recognized."
"Well, you do have to worry about your walk." Kevin poked his tiny claws into the back of Dean's neck, Cri-Kee chirping something encouraging. "Alphas don't walk all hunched over and meek or whatever you're doing right now. They don't bow to anyone, they don't submit to anyone, and they don't invite a challenge to their authority. Throw your shoulders back, puff out your chest, and walk with your legs further apart. They look a bit bowed, so that should be easy for you." Kevin leaned forward and glanced down, nodding in approval as Dean tried to follow his suggestions. "Good. And don't look down, ever. Like, don't make eye contact with any alphas here who actually outrank you, but don't shy away from their scrutiny, either."
"This is ridiculous," Dean growled, tightening his grip around Khan's lead. "How is anyone expected to walk like this all the time?"
"Practice." Kevin tapped the side of Dean's neck, pointing toward a trio of trainees lounging near the food tent, speaking with the soldier watching the pot of rice. "Take your heifer over there and chat those three up. Time to see if your disguise will hold."
Dean took a deep breath and nodded, heading toward the small group. As soon as he was within scent range, the big, burly, brunet alpha standing in the back looked up, his bright blue eyes fixating on the newcomer as he tapped the other two soldiers on their shoulders. The other male, a lean alpha with similar bright blue eyes and short, neatly trimmed blonde hair, also looked up, the faint hint of curiosity reaching the approaching omega. The third member of their group, a petite, redheaded female beta, bounced to her feet and approached the newcomer, her emerald eyes taking him in for a moment before she grinned.
"Hey, you must be new! I'm Charlie, from the Imperial City." Her scent, now that Dean could smell it, was soothing, a combination of magnolia and spruce.
The lean male stepped forward next, his rosemary and mint scent unusual for an alpha. He sized Dean up, bowing his head slightly in a gesture between equals. "I'm Balthazar, and I also come from the Imperial City."
"He comes from the Imperial Court," the third member of their group snorted, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the exchange curiously. The beta woman who had been standing beside the food tent stalked closer to the newcomer, brushing her long red braid behind her back as she sniffed the air. "I'm Benny, currently living in the Imperial City, and Anna here is Balthazar's sister, also from the Imperial Court."
Dean's eyes widened as he recognized the names. "Balthazar and Anna? I didn't realize any of the Emperor's children had been conscripted."
Balthazar shrugged. "We weren't. We volunteered, Anna quite a bit before me. Most of my siblings have served or are serving in the army, so it just made sense for the rest of us to sign up with this new Hun threat. Besides, my brother is in charge of this training camp, and I'd rather serve under him than anyone else."
Dean smiled, bowing as much as he could with a dragon tucked into the back of his armor. He was grateful that he had thought of an alias and backstory already, having practiced the name on the ride over so that he could say it convincingly. He wasn't sure if anyone from the Imperial City would recognize his real name, but his father had sent out announcements to a hundred noble and high ranked families when he presented, so it was possible. "I'm Steve. It's, uh, nice to meet all of you."
Anna smiled and held out her hand to pat Khan on his neck. "You have a beautiful horse, though he looks a bit too young to have served in the last war."
"No, he didn't, but Dad did ride him to the western border for that dispute about ten years ago."
"Well, go unpack your supplies in one of the empty tents in the back and bring your wonderful steed back to me. I'll stable him with the rest of the herd until we get to mounted combat."
Dean nodded gratefully, glad that someone had given him directions. "I'll do that, thanks." He felt Kevin peek out of the back of his armor again, probably checking out the betas and alphas standing in front of him, and clearly Khan took it as a challenge. The horse nickered something that sounded uncomplimentary, lunging at the dragon and snapping his teeth on thin air as Dean stumbled forward and lost his grip on the reins. His horse reared and swung his head, hitting the edge of the table just outside the food tent, kicking back in shock when he felt something touch him. Dean grabbed for his horse, but it was too late. He, along with the four soldiers he had barely met, watched helplessly as the table fell over, spilling the huge pot of rice on the ground as hundreds of plates clattered into the dirt at their feet.
Zachariah had been a general in the Emperor's army for almost a full decade, and Castiel's commander for the younger alpha's entire career. He had fought in the last war and received many accolades, but as the son of a concubine, the balding, gray-haired alpha had refused to take a mate or have a family. He wanted to serve his father, as did his two colonels and the major who stood patiently behind his chair.
Zachariah carefully nudged one of the figures on the map over the mountains and dangerously close to the tiny town that guarded the Tung Shao Pass. It was one of the few ways to reach the Imperial City, and Castiel had known that the Huns would take the obvious route. "The Huns have struck here, here, and here," Zachariah explained, jabbing at the map with one beefy finger. "I will take my troops to the Tung Shao Pass and stop Dick Roman before he destroys this village." His touch was soft as he passed over that dot on the map, the splotch of ink that marked where his commoner mother had been born.
"Excellent strategy, sir!" Metatron, the Emperor's scribe currently assigned to oversee new troop training and deployment, was a sycophant, and Zachariah was powerful in the Imperial City. The old beta knew who to suck up to. "I do love surprises."
Castiel, who was more than a decade younger than his half-brother and easily two decades younger than the irritating scribe, resisted the urge to roll his blue eyes. He wasn't in line for the throne, not with two older alpha brothers, so most of his father's advisors didn't bother to suck up to him. They would, however, when he finally mated and settled down in the City to live a life of politics. He knew his fate, but he would resist that retirement for as long as he could. "It's a sound plan, brother, but are you sure that Dick will go for this obvious path? It's such a small pass and so easy to defend that he might head further south and circle around this way." Castiel placed one finger on the map and drew a half-circle, ending on the Imperial City.
"That's unlikely, Castiel," Uriel oozed, his face carrying a scowl so old that his brothers often wondered if the dark-skinned man could even smile. He was unpleasant at the best of times, and even his mother had not been able to handle him. He would never achieve a rank higher than Colonel with his surly attitude and complete disregard for breeding and station, but his full brother Raphael had a chance at General someday. Those two were likely to take mates, low-born nobles or wealthy commoners, as befitted the sons of concubines, so this war was their chance to gain enough honor to ask for the finest partners. Castiel felt sorry for whoever the Matchmaker paired with them. "The Huns are not known for their cunning; they will take the easy path."
"I agree with Castiel," Hester interjected, the alpha Major leaning forward and tapping the map. She was fair and blonde, only a year older than Castiel and Zachariah's only full sibling. She wasn't ashamed of her parentage in any way, perfectly happy to accept whatever young beta or omega the Matchmaker offered her after the war was over. "We should consider the scant possibility that Dick will avoid the village, knowing that we plan to set a trap there, and head south. We don't have more than a skeleton force guarding the lower paths."
"The forces we have there will be enough to warn us if he changes direction, and by the time he gets there we will have reinforcements."
"What reinforcements, General?" Metatron might not have actually been curious, but he knew when Zachariah wanted to be prodded to keep talking, and his timing was impeccable.
"Castiel will stay here and train the new recruits," Zachariah decided, leaning back and grinning at his younger brother. "When Metatron believes you are ready, you will join us . . . Captain."
Castiel's eyes widened as he straightened in his chair. "Captain?" He had served under his half-brother for only four years, and he hadn't expected to be promoted so quickly.
"Oh! This is an enormous responsibility, General," Metatron sputtered, waving his writing brush around in the air. "Perhaps a soldier with more experience?"
Castiel caught himself on the edge of a growl, the raven-haired alpha knowing better than to antagonize the members of his father's court but excessively eager to do so. Zachariah just chuckled and leaned forward, bobbing his head in what he probably thought was reassurance. "Number one in his class, extensive knowledge of training techniques . . . an impressive military lineage . . . I believe Castiel will do an excellent job."
For probably the first time in his life, Castiel was grateful that Zachariah liked his half-siblings and promoted them whenever he felt they had earned it. Generally, that was well before any of the other highly ranked officers in the army would have done it, but the old alpha was often right. Uriel was an ass, but a good warrior, and Raphael made up for any political grace his younger brother lacked. Hester was snappy but loyal, and Zachariah had led them well for the better part of a decade. "I won't let you down, brother," the young alpha replied, bowing his head and projecting gratitude into his honey-tinted hickory scent. He had often been mocked for being an alpha who smelled just a little too sweet, but anyone who underestimated him learned their lesson quickly. He had fought his way into the army and he would continue to fight against anyone who judged another for their scent before getting to know them. It had made him an incredible trainer, so giving him a camp full of new recruits was the perfect solution to the army's lack of new blood.
"Very good, then. We'll toast China's victory at the Imperial City. I'll expect a full report in three weeks." He pushed himself up from the table, checking his sword as he turned toward the door, his three shadows on his heels.
Metatron turned to glare at Castiel before following the general outside, brush and clipboard in hand and he lowered his voice. "And believe me, I won't leave anything out."
Don't strangle the scribe. Don't strangle the scribe. Castiel repeated the mantra in his head as he stood taller and threw his shoulders back, knowing that he was imposing at six feet tall, broad chested with more than his normal share of strength and endurance. Alphas, in general, shied away from him, not willing to risk his ire in a dominance fight, even before they found out he was the Emperor's third heir. He stepped into the sunlight and stopped still in his tracks, azure eyes widening in shock at the scene that greeted him.
Dean finally got control of Khan, pulling the horse away from the food tent as dozens of new recruits gathered close enough to see the commotion. One of them got too close to the war horse's hooves and caught the edge of a kick before Dean moved away. The alpha, a dark-haired man who gave off some reasonably intense sleazy vibes, grunted, his eyes flashing red as he attacked the nearest target, a skinny male beta. The alphas nearby went into a frenzy as soon as the first punch was thrown, their instincts demanding that they join in. Horrified, Dean pulled Khan away from the commotion, almost tripping over Anna in his haste.
The petite beta, not in the least concerned about the major brawl breaking out in the center of the camp, held out one hand patiently and glanced up at Khan. "Let me take your horse to the field where the rest of them are stabled. He's caused enough trouble for today."
Dean nodded gratefully and passed the reins over, cooing softly at the black stallion. "I'm sorry about all of this; he's not usually so skittish."
Anna shrugged, running a hand down Khan's sweat-damp neck. At least his eyes weren't rolling anymore, and he seemed less likely to rear and break away. "He'll get used to all of this in time. I'm surprised you didn't jump into that brawl over there."
Dean rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder at the pack of alphas eagerly trying to tear each others' throats out. He had seen fights like that back home, usually between five or so alphas, and they always ended before blood was spilled or any serious damage was done. It was far too easy to get alphas riled up, and as soon as the fight started no one wanted to be the first to back down. A couple of dominant betas had joined in, but most of them were trying to pull as many combatants out of the fray as they could. "I've never gone for that sort of violence. Fighting with cause is one thing, but there's no reason to give into our animalistic urges."
Anna stared at him for a long moment, head tilted curiously to the side as she tried to figure him out. "Well, Steve, if you aren't interested in joining, you might as well help break it up. You're bigger than most of the other alphas here; I'm sure you can be of use." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, whispering calming words to the stallion by her side.
Dean sighed as he turned back to the fray, trying to decide how he could best help break up the combatants. Benny and Balthazar had only joined long enough to deck a couple of the newbies they didn't like, and they had now managed to get most of the alphas apart. Dean only saw two still fighting; the dark-haired sleaze ball who had started it and another tall man with a neatly-trimmed graying beard.
They froze mid-swing as the large tent at the top of the small hill overlooking the camp swung open, an older, balding alpha emerging, two dark-skinned male alphas just behind him and a fair female alpha in their wake. They were all dressed in the livery of the Imperial Army, cloaks flowing from their shoulders and decorations on their chest from battles and wars won years ago. The older man looked over the field disapprovingly, frowning as an old male beta joined the group, a clipboard in one hand.
Dean started as he recognized Metatron, the Emperor's scribe, his beady eyes and heavy jowls set in anger. "Most impressive," he oozed over his shoulder as he flashed his teeth at the final man to emerge into the daylight.
The young omega felt his breath catch in his throat as he caught sight of the most gorgeous alpha he had ever met. The man was tall and imposing, his broad shoulders thrown back and his head tilted up, just enough that he could glare down his aristocratic nose at the gathered soldiers. His eyes were the brightest, most intensely unbelievably blue Dean had ever seen, sparkling like a thunderstorm as a low growl signaled his displeasure. His raven hair was short, as was the style for alphas, but it was wild and stuck out in all directions, almost begging for someone to reach out and smooth it back into place. Dean was suddenly immensely grateful that his scent blockers and herbs dulled his own sense of smell, otherwise his instinctive biological reaction to being in the presence of a man who was clearly Alpha would have outed him in an instant. Even so, it took every ounce of self-control the omega possessed to keep from falling at this man's feet and submitting, begging to be claimed.
The thoughts passed through Dean's mind in an instant, the sharp pinprick of claws in his neck reminding him that an alpha wouldn't feel the urge to submit to this powerful rival, though none of the ones in the field would meet his eyes. Dean just hoped his eye drops worked as described and were preventing his eyes from turning gold as the raven-haired alpha finally looked his way.
Castiel let his gaze rake across every new recruit, noting which ones glanced away uneasily and which ones managed to keep eye contact for a little longer. His younger brother Balthazar, a shallow cut over one eye, met his eyes and smirked before glancing down in acknowledgement of his dominance, though none of his beta half-siblings had apparently been involved. The alpha let his eyes stop on the newest member of the army, a tall, broad alpha with dark blonde hair and faded gray-green eyes. He looked somewhat familiar, but Castiel couldn't place the memory, no matter how long this alpha held his gaze.
Zachariah snorted at the damage the brawling alphas had caused, noting the spilled rice, the broken plates, and the food table that had seen better days. He offered his younger brother a shallow bow before striding to his horse and swinging onto its back, his three officers following his lead. "Good luck, Captain!" He kicked his horse and galloped off toward his waiting army, his escort close on his heels.
"Good luck, brother," Castiel called back, waiting until the horses had vanished before turning back to his soldiers and taking a deep, steadying breath.
Metatron snickered at his side, taking out his displeasure at having to stay in this camp on the newly-minted captain. "Day one."
Castiel resisted the urge to growl at the old beta, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest as he strode forward. "Soldiers!"
The alphas and betas stepped back from the epicenter of their brawl, straightening their uniforms and armor as some of them snapped to attention. Benny, Balthazar's good friend and a fine warrior who had previously served in the Emperor's court as his favorite chef, nodded toward the newest recruit hovering uncertainly at the edge of the group. "He started it."
Dean's eyes widened as he swallowed nervously, forcing himself to stand tall as the Captain approached him. Kevin had ducked down into his arm, his breath warm on the omega's neck as they both prayed that he wasn't about to get kicked out of the army for accidentally starting a fight. Castiel's eyes, now an icy gray-blue with the slightest tinge of red around the outside, locked on the omega, his chin tilted just enough that he could look down his nose at the man. That wasn't fair, really, Dean mused, because he was sure that he had a couple of inches on the guy. "I don't need anyone causing trouble in my camp," the captain growled.
"Sorry," Dean answered instinctively, his back bowing slightly as he started to offer his neck to the alpha. Kevin's admonishment that alphas did not submit to anyone flashed through his mind, and he made a conscious effort to stand taller and look up into Castiel's eyes. "I mean, sorry that got out of hand. We were just, uh, messing around. You know, alpha stuff."
The gathered soldiers snickered at that, even though a few of the more injured ones nodded in agreement. Certainly they hadn't started the day with the intention of getting into a brawl, so some of what had happened could be explained away by alpha tempers. None of them were quite sure what had triggered them, however, and were perfectly willing to let Dean be their scapegoat and keep the captain's fury from landing on them.
Castiel shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's your name?"
"Steve," Dean answered quickly, hoping that he sounded confident enough.
"Let me see your conscription notice." Dean fumbled in the front of his armor for the rolled scroll, passing it over quickly and watching as Castiel skimmed through it and Metatron leaned close enough to read it, too. He was suddenly very glad that the old scribe was an ass and had little regard for anyone other than himself. Clearly, the beta didn't recognize him, and it was unlikely that he remembered the tall, blonde omega who had spoken back to him the day before. Such things were probably beneath Metatron's notice.
"Winchester," Castiel read, eyes narrowing. "John Winchester? The John Winchester?"
Metatron looked up sharply. "You're John Winchester's alpha son?" His pale eyes glazed over for a moment as he clearly tried to remember if he had ever met the famous general's offspring, but it was clear that Sam hadn't made much of an impression on him, either. "I thought you were taller," the scribe managed at last.
Dean scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping that he could posture his way through whatever vague recollections the scribe's failing memory had offered him. "I'm taller than you, aren't I?"
Castiel placed a warning hand on Metatron's arm, silencing any retort the beta might have offered. "What are you, fifteen? Sixteen, maybe? Are you even old enough to serve?"
Hearing his own arguments from supper the night before repeated back to him almost broke Dean out of his alpha persona, but he found himself offering Sam's answer to the captain. He was immensely grateful that he had always looked young for his age, and judicious application of his own omega makeup helped to enforce that image of youth. "An alpha may fight as soon as he has presented. I'm old enough."
Metatron opened his mouth to offer some new, vicious barb, but Castiel's sharp glare silenced him once more. "Ok, soldiers, thanks to your new 'friend' Steve, you'll spend today picking up every single grain of rice and putting this camp back in order." A round of groans followed his words, but the alpha didn't bother to acknowledge them. "Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Kevin peeked his head out of the back of Dean's armor as Castiel stalked away, dozens of red-rimmed alpha eyes turning toward him. The omega cowered back slightly, hoping that none of his new "friends" would decide to attack. "You know," the dragon murmured in his ear, "we have to work on your people skills."
Castiel strode into his tent, heading to the back and pulling aside the heavy curtain that separated the sleeping and meeting areas. In the middle of the smaller of the two beds, surrounded by a mountain of pillows that she had insisted on bringing from the palace, a slender young alpha stirred. Her long, blonde hair was tied back in an intricate braid that Castiel had learned to do when she was a much younger pup, and her bright blue eyes watched her father carefully as he sat down beside her bed. "It's after dawn."
Castiel shrugged at her observation. "I let you sleep in. We had a long ride last night."
The alpha, barely a month out of her first rut, sat up in bed, her eyes flashing red for a moment. She wasn't very good at controlling her instinctive reactions yet, but she would learn to as she grew. "I wanted to train with the recruits today. You said you'd wake me."
"Sorry, Claire; they aren't going to be training today. A clumsy pup not much older than you managed to decimate the food tent, so they all have cleaning duty. You can join them for that, if you want." His voice was light and teasing, the pup glaring at his tone.
"No, I don't, but you did promise that you would treat me like one of your recruits. You said I could train with them and fight."
"Yes, but their training doesn't start until tomorrow, so you get to be my pup for one more day." Castiel reached out to cup the girl's cheek in his hand, smiling softly as she surrendered to the gentle caress. "I didn't want you to come at all, so you can give me this one day."
"Ok, Dad," Claire murmured, "but you can't keep me from fighting. I'm presented and I have the right. Granddad is okay with it."
Castiel snorted and turned away, heading back into the sitting area as his pup padded after him. She was dressed in a soft fighting shirt and loose pants, not bothering with any symbols of rank or station. As the daughter of a concubine, she often felt that she didn't deserve any of that, no matter that Castiel had assured her that he would be able to grant her a noble title as soon as he had a legal mate. "Your granddad has four legal grandchildren between you and Luci's pups, not even counting Muriel's son and new daughter. I only have you, and I don't want you to fight."
Claire moved to stand in front of her father, one small hand on his chest as she looked up into his eyes. "I want to be here, with you, Dad. I want to be a warrior, prove that I'm your pup. I don't want anyone to think that I'm not worthy enough to be part of the Imperial Family."
"You are, Claire, I promise you. No one thinks that you are greedy or manipulative like your birth mother. You don't have to prove anything to them."
Claire shook her head as she thought back to the stories her father had told her about April, the concubine who had tricked Castiel into impregnating her when he was in his first rut. "I have to prove it to me," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"Alright then," the newly-minted captain whispered, resting his chin on top of his daughter's head. "Training starts tomorrow, and I'll make sure you're there. But I can't treat you any different than the other soldiers, okay?"
Claire nodded eagerly, grinning as she looked over her shoulder at the tent flap that led to the rest of the camp. "I'll bet I'm the youngest recruit out there!"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you are." Castiel's mind jumped back to that tall alpha with gray-green eyes and a spattering of freckles across his nose. Something still seemed off about the kid, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. "There's a general's son out there who might be pretty close, though. He barely looks sixteen. He's also quite the troublemaker."
Claire grinned excitedly as her eyes flashed red. "Good, I could use a friend."
"Heaven help us."
