Third Person POV
"The Drinking Party"
The night sky above Aurivelle exploded in a kaleidoscope of shimmering lights and laughter—fireworks trailing like comets, music pounding through marble walls, and voices echoing with joy. It was the grand after-party following the official coronation of the kingdom's most unexpected and beloved new ruler—King Jiggs.
And amidst the dancing, feasting, and semi-dramatic flirting happening in every shadowed corner of the ballroom, a very serious contest had just been announced.
A drinking contest. Hosted, ironically, by Jiggs himself.
Now, Jiggs couldn't actually participate—his belly, after all, was currently housing a royal fetus. But that didn't stop him from being insanely invested.
Armed with a velvet megaphone and glitter eyeliner that shimmered with every word, he stood atop a dramatically conjured crystal podium and declared, "The winner of tonight's sacred drinking contest shall take home an utterly explosive prize!"
The room quieted almost instantly. Even the flirtatious whispers stopped. Heads turned. Goblets hovered in midair. Someone choked on a moonberry tart.
Jiggs beamed like the proud monarch he now was.
"The prize is none other than... The Midnight Howler!"
With a grand flick of his wrist, a holographic image burst into life behind him: a sleek, obsidian-black luxury car that looked like it had been carved from a black hole and blessed by celestial wolves.
Gasps echoed throughout the room.
"This baby comes with leather seats stitched from rare beast-hide, rune-engraved steering wheels to protect you from drunk teleportation spells, and an engine that roars louder than an unhinged Alpha on mating season under a full moon."
Jiggs paused for dramatic flair, letting the image rotate midair.
"Top speed?" he said, eyes twinkling. "Unmeasurable. Style? Untouchable."
The crowd was eating it up.
"And wait—bonus perks!" he shouted like a magical game show host. "It includes—
A year's supply of enchanted fuel—powered entirely by Silver's ego.
A custom license plate that reads: CHUGGOD-1.
And best of all, it will be delivered to your door with a red velvet ribbon and a slow-motion dramatic reveal. Choreographed by none other than me, myself, and I."
The crowd erupted into cheers, laughter, and the occasional whistle. People were already sizing up their competitors, rolling up sleeves, preparing liver spells.
But Jiggs wasn't finished.
"But wait!" he said, holding up one finger with a mischievous grin. "Since this is my very first celebration as King of Aurivelle, I've decided to sweeten the pot with an additional royal bonus."
The murmurs hushed.
"A fully paid, three-week escape to the hidden spa island of Lumora!" Jiggs announced.
Someone in the back fainted.
"Where the waters literally heal your liver from all the damage you're about to do trying to win this contest. Where the masseuses are Alphas with anger issues and magic hands. And where every suite includes a moon-viewing balcony, a platter of roasted beast flank, honey-scented Omega tea, and a personal bard whose only job is to sing about your drunken glory while strumming a harp of enchanted silver thread!"
The crowd lost it. Cheering. Roaring. Someone did a cartwheel. Another tried to summon a beer stein from across the room and accidentally knocked over a table.
"So!" Jiggs said, hands on his hips, one foot tapping with giddy authority. "Raise your hand if you want to join!"
A sea of hands shot up. Even Voder raised one—then quickly raised it more when Alaric gave him a look.
Jiggs laughed, wiping a fake tear. "Now this is how a kingdom should party."
The King of Aurivelle.
Pregnant.
Fabulous.
And making history—one absurdly magical drinking contest at a time.
"Champ, we have to win," Deux said with a deadly serious look, the kind of look usually reserved for epic battles or confessions of forbidden love. "Whoever wins between the two of us—at least we're sure we get the prize."
Champ grinned, slapping his own belly like a war drum. "Relax. I came prepared. Trained for this moment. My liver's been pre-seasoned and battle-hardened. That prize is mine."
Meanwhile, not too far away...
"Silver! Join the contest!" Jiggs whispered like a conspiring gremlin, tugging on Silver's sleeve. "The prize is amazing! If you win, you can give it to me!"
Silver narrowed his eyes. "Then why did you make it a prize at all? Why not just keep it if you wanted it that bad?"
"Because it's more dramatic this way!" Jiggs hissed. "Just enter already! You can win it for us!"
"Fine!" Silver snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "But only because you're annoying."
Across the courtyard, another duo was preparing.
"Should we join, Theron?" Henry asked, adjusting his delicate glasses.
Theron cracked a mischievous smile. "Absolutely. I plan to win that vacation prize. Three weeks alone with you? Uninterrupted? Count me in."
Henry's cheeks flushed an alarming shade of red. "Th-Then I'll join too... even if I'm terrible with alcohol," he stammered.
Farther off, someone was bouncing in excitement.
"Me! I'm joining! Maybe I'll win!" Kali shouted, practically hopping in place. "I want that car!"
Alaric chuckled softly beside her. "Are you sure, Kali? Do you even know how to drive?"
"I'll learn!" she declared proudly.
"Well, don't get too excited, Kali," Voder said, crossing his arms and smirking. "Because I'm joining too."
Kali groaned. "Ugh! Your alcohol tolerance is huge! That's unfair!"
"Don't worry, Alaric. I'll get all the prizes for us," Voder said confidently. "Just sit back, relax, and watch me win."
Alaric smiled and gave him a tiny nod. "Then do your best, Voder."
Elsewhere...
"This is my chance! I finally get to drink!" Melior cheered, looking like a child about to enter a candy store.
"Don't get your hopes up," Elexa replied with a smug smirk. "I'll be taking that prize."
"You're all just wasting your breath," Hart said, cracking his knuckles. "None of you stand a chance against me."
They all turned to see Nihilex quietly sipping tea with an amused smile.
"You're not joining?" Nixon asked curiously.
"No," he said, watching them like a soap opera. "I just want to see all of you get wasted."
"Oh come on! Join us! It's a once-in-a-century kind of night!" Melior whined.
Just then, Jiggs' voice rang out, bright and gleeful.
"All contestants, please make your way to the table and take your seats for tonight's legendary drinking contest!"
A very long banquet table appeared out of thin air, lined with velvet chairs and glowing rune-trays filled with mystical beverages. The contestants took their seats, already trash-talking before the first bottle was popped.
"I don't know how long I'll last..." Henry whispered nervously. "If I pass out, you'll take care of me, right, Theron?"
Theron gave him a wink. "You're in good hands."
"I can smell the alcohol from here. I think I'm gonna be sick already, I should have not joined." Nihilex groaned.
"Pinch your nose when you drink," Elexa offered like a concerned (and slightly evil) aunt.
"I just want that prize!" Hart growled, already cracking his knuckles.
"I'm strategizing already," Melior muttered, tapping his temple. "Mind over vomit."
"Bring me the booze! All of it! That prize is mine!" Kali shouted, slamming her hand on the table.
"Where's the damn beer? I've been ready to drink since this morning!" Silver barked, slamming his fist on the table.
"Calm down, Silver," Champ said with a sly grin. "We all know I'm going to win."
Silver glared. "I need that vacation, Champ. I will black out for love."
"Over my dead, drunk body," Voder growled. "You are not winning. Over. My. Empty. Mug."
Just then, Jiggs raised an eyebrow and looked down the table.
"Looks like we've got one seat left," he mused. "Anyone else wanna join before we begin?"
The room hushed.
And from the far end of the hall, an elegant figure sauntered forward like he was headed for a spa appointment instead of a beer brawl.
"Alaric?!" Voder gasped.
Alaric sat gracefully beside him, tying his long hair into a loose bun like he did this every Tuesday.
"This looked thrilling. I don't want to miss out all the fun," he said softly, smiling like a serene moon goddess. "I thought I'd join. I will help you win, Voder."
"You drink?!" Champ exclaimed.
Alaric simply smiled and nodded.
"Well, even if you are my parents, I'm not going easy on you!" Champ shouted, rolling up his sleeves.
"And now that all our contestants are present," Jiggs announced, arms spread wide, "beneath your tables are crates of enchanted beer. Once you start chugging, the magic counters will display how much each of you drink within ten minutes. If you feel like throwing up, bags are conveniently provided in a non-magical, non-judgmental manner!"
Everyone got into position.
Eyes narrowed.
Glasses ready.
Livers trembling.
This was it—the final showdown.
Not for honor.
Not for glory.
But for alcohol, a magical car, a romantic getaway...
...and eternal bragging rights.
Jiggs raised his hand.
"On my count—three... two... one...
DRINK!"
And then—it began.
The moment the drinking contest officially kicked off, the long banquet table erupted into a flurry of motion as contestants lifted bottles, tipped them back, and chugged with the desperation of war-hardened champions... or very thirsty degenerates.
Overseeing it all like a sparkly chaos deity was none other than King Jiggs, strutting down the length of the table with a floating megaphone and far too much excitement for someone who wasn't drinking.
"Ladies and gentlemen! As you can see—our contestants are absolute beasts when it comes to booze!" Jiggs declared with a laugh, moving to his first target.
(Smash!)
Henry slammed his empty beer bottle on the table and immediately covered his mouth, turning a suspicious shade of sea-sick green.
"Still hanging in there, Doctor Henry?" Jiggs asked, barely stifling a giggle.
"I think... I'm going to vomit," Henry croaked, holding himself like a seasick toddler.
"There's a plastic bag right beside you! Just aim well, and if you still have some dignity left—drink again!" Jiggs chirped.
"I'm sorry... I can't go on," Henry whimpered, glassy-eyed.
"I've got you, Henry," Theron said beside him, steady and unfazed. "I'll carry us to victory."
"Umm... Ex-King Theron," Jiggs said suddenly, squinting like a nosy tabloid reporter, "is it true you've already impregnated Doctor Henry?"
Theron shot him a glare mid-sip that could kill a dragon.
"I-I take that back. Respect for privacy! Respect for privacy!" Jiggs squeaked, swiftly sidestepping to the next contestant before Theron could snap his neck.
He arrived at Nihilex, who, despite clearly battling a gag reflex, remained oddly composed.
"Nihilex! Quick question!" Jiggs announced with a showbiz grin. "Do you have a crush?"
Nihilex blinked mid-sip. "Crush?"
"Yep! The crowd's dying to know if the mysterious Omega male has standards when it comes to love," Jiggs teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
Nihilex downed another sip and shrugged. "My crush is taken already. But I'm open to love—as long as they can accept my past and walk with me into the future."
The table went silent. Even the background music sounded like it was waiting for a confession.
"Wow! Look at you being all deep and romantic while everyone else is foaming at the mouth!" Jiggs gushed.
"Ask me!" Elexa yelled, cheeks flushed and eyes wild. "Honestly—even if Master Nihilex is an Omega—I want him to impregnate me!"
Nihilex choked slightly.
"Sorry, Elexa..." he said politely. "When I said I was open, I meant to men. I'm looking for someone with a large, heavy, breathtaking manhood that can drown my throat with his manly juice—"
"OKAY, MOVING ON!" Jiggs shrieked, eyes wide as saucers. "Let's not turn this PG contest into a midnight-only affair!"
He scampered over to Hart.
"Hart! How's it going? Still confident?"
"Confident? I've already won," Hart said smugly, chugging with one hand and flexing with the other.
"Impressive. You drink like it's your job."
"It is tonight."
Next up was Nixon. Jiggs tilted his head. "Nixon! What would you do with the car if you win? Who would you take on the getaway trip? Also, who even are you? I don't think I've talked to you in any previous chapter."
Nixon, wide-eyed and pale, stared at his glass like it had just cursed him. He didn't respond.
"Right... Looks like Nixon's soul has already taken off to Lumora." Jiggs laughed. "Hopefully his body follows soon."
He moved on. "Melior!"
"Jiggs!!" Melior cried, swaying like seaweed in a storm.
"Having fun at your first royal party?"
"This is the BEST NIGHT EVER!" Melior shouted and immediately stood up, twirling like a drunken ballerina.
Without hesitation, Jiggs joined him, spinning around, laughing—until—
"Melior, don't twirl too fast—"
Too late. A thunderous, projectile eruption launched from Melior's mouth like a cursed geyser.
Everyone ducked.
Kali managed to dodge just in time.
Nixon? Took a full hit to the face.
...And didn't react at all.
"Welp. There it is," Jiggs sighed. "And yet—Melior, can you still go on?"
"Of course! Never surrender!" Melior roared, chugging another beer as if nothing had just erupted from his digestive tract.
Jiggs doubled over laughing. "Kali, you're holding up surprisingly well! You don't look even tipsy."
"I was born to drink," Kali declared proudly.
"Careful, you might end up like Melior."
"Hah! I'm no lightweight like him," Kali smirked.
Then came the final stretch.
"Silver," Jiggs said gently, "how are you holding—?"
(Smack!)
Silver slammed his bottle down like he was declaring war, then leapt on top of the table and knelt... dramatically.
Jiggs' jaw dropped.
Silver ripped off his shirt with the confidence of a male stripper in a sacred temple. The crowd gasped. His abs glittered. Somewhere in the background, someone dropped a fork.
"Dear guests... I believe Silver is now officially drunk," Jiggs announced, backing away slowly.
"You. Jiggs," Silver growled, pointing with drunken authority, "after this... I'm tying you to your bed. Pregnant or not, I'll impregnate you again. You won't escape me. I'll swallow the scrumptious fluid from your birth canal and stretch it wide enough to fit my fist inside of it—"
"SILVER! FOR THE LOVE OF THE MOONS, STOP!" Jiggs screamed, tackling him and slapping a hand over his mouth.
Silver licked Jiggs' fingers.
Jiggs yelped and ripped his hand back.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said quickly, face flushed and voice cracking, "as you can see, things are heating up—and I mean way too much! Please forgive anything you've heard. This was meant to be a PG event, not Rated Beta X!"
Jiggs zipped down the table before he got publicly ravished.
Meanwhile, the chaos continued—beer bottles clinking, contestants swaying, vomiting, flirting, confessing, and somewhere in the background, a bard began composing a drinking song called "The Day the Beer Ruined the Crown."
And through it all, Jiggs laughed—fully, heartily, loudly.
Because in that moment, as his kingdom drank, laughed, and lost all sense of decorum...
He had never felt more alive.
And so the camera pans...
To the main table.
The battlefront.
The arena where gods were born—and livers were destroyed.
Deux and Champ sat like warriors, beer in hand, eyes ablaze with determination. Their synchronization was impeccable. Gulp. Slam. Gulp. Slam. A mechanical rhythm fueled by love... and alcohol.
Jiggs tiptoed toward them, gripping his enchanted microphone like it was a holy artifact.
"So... how are we doing over here, my power couple? Deux and Champ?" Jiggs asked cheerfully, already bracing for chaos.
"Keep chugging, Deux," Champ commanded without missing a beat, eyes fierce. "We need that car."
"Yes, my love," Deux replied, his voice suddenly way too sultry. "And once we do get that car... we're baptizing it. First night. You, me, the back seat... and we will make a baby inside of it."
Champ smirked, cheeks flushed from the beer. "Oh, and while you're driving, I will be riding you. That alpha shaft of yours, I will bounce on it, like my life depended on it!"
"Then I won't pull out," Deux purred. "Ever. Even if we are sleeping."
"Perfect. I want it stuck so deep I'll need to straighten my intestine!" Champ bit his lip and giggled.
"GUYS!" Jiggs screamed, holding his cape like a Victorian maiden. "HELLO?! I'm right here! PG RATING, REMEMBER?! There are children in the magical livestream!! This couple, when they are drunk, they are so wild!"
But the couple ignored him completely, lost in their tipsy lust-fueled fantasy.
"Champ! Deux! Please!" Jiggs whined like an abandoned puppy.
(Smack!)
"Shut up, you're breaking my rhythm!" Champ snapped, slamming down another bottle.
"Keep talking, and I'll flatten you," Deux warned, eyes glowing with feral passion. "Even if you are the King."
Jiggs scurried away before his face got sat on by accident.
"Mr. Voder!" Jiggs called out, hoping for peace. "How's the drinking going?"
Voder burst into laughter before he even answered. A laugh so loud it made a nearby barrel vibrate.
"...Are you already drunk?"
"Drunk? Who, me? Never!" Voder declared, swaying a bit. "I must prove that I am Aurivelle's most alcohol-tolerant being!"
Meanwhile, Jiggs' eyes landed on someone disturbingly calm.
"Sir Madam Alaric!" Jiggs called. "Did you come to drink beer or host a tea party?! Why are you still so refined?!"
Because there sat Alaric—poised, elegant, and somehow glowing. While everyone else slouched and burped and sweated, Alaric was daintily sipping his beer with his pinky raised like a queen at a royal brunch.
"I just... like watching him," Voder said, dreamy-eyed. "He's... so beautiful... I feel like tonight, Champ and Silver will have another sibling!"
"Are you even drinking beer or is that enchanted spring water?!" Jiggs accused. "Why do you look like you're ready to model instead of pass out?"
"I didn't want to appear rowdy," Alaric said sweetly, brushing back his hair. "I only joined to support Voder."
"Oh wow. Voder, you've really hit the jackpot," Jiggs said, wiping a tear. "Nurturing. Graceful. Possibly immune to hangovers."
"I know I did." Voder grinned. "He's beautiful, brilliant, and feminine, really, my type."
"Yeah, I can see it why. The big daddy muscular guy coupled with a very delicate and feminine looking guy!" Jiggs jokinlgy commented. "How does even Alaric handle you? You are too damn big!"
"Well, that's a secret."
Moments later, Jiggs clapped his hands. "Okay! TIME'S UP! Let's find out who gets the new ride and the epic getaway to the island paradise of Lumora!"
Magical counters shimmered to life above each contestant's seat.
"First up—Doctor Henry with... two bottles! Well, he tried!"
Henry, completely passed out, slumped against Theron's shoulder like a cuddly stuffed toy.
"Next—Ex-King Theron with eight bottles!" Jiggs declared.
"If it were wine, I'd be champion," Theron mumbled grumpily, then instantly quieted when Henry stirred.
"Nihilex: five bottles! Not bad."
"I'm done. I want to go home," Nihilex groaned.
"Elexa: six bottles!"
"I stayed sober to babysit Nihilex, I can drink more if I wanted to." she replied, smiling with suspicious innocence.
"Sure you did, but don't forget, Nihilex loves big ol' chunky and beefy manhood instead of big plump boobies!" Jiggs teased. "Next—Hart with six bottles!"
"Hey! I thought I had seven!"
"You thought. You're drunk," Jiggs smirked.
"Nixon—four bottles. Still no expression. Still possibly deceased."
"Melior—two bottles. Melior, honey, you need training."
"I'll invent a serum for me to be able to drink more!" Melior slurred.
"Kali—NINE BOTTLES!" Jiggs whooped. "She's on fire!"
"I'm unstoppable! I'll drink you all under the moon!"
Then came Silver.
"Silver: also nine bottles!"
"WHAT?! How dare she tie with me!" Silver roared and nearly flipped the table before Jiggs calmed him down.
"Champ: ELEVEN bottles!"
"Bow before me, you lightweights!" Champ said, flipping his hair with royal flair.
"Deux: also eleven bottles!"
"Yes! We're leading!" Champ squealed.
"For you, my love," Deux whispered, already mentally undressing him.
"Deux! Stop imagining me naked! I can feel it through the bond!" Champ yelped.
"Mr. Voder: eleven bottles!"
"Even if you're my dad, I won't lose!" Champ growled. "I demand a rematch!"
"Later," Voder said, smirking. "Your mom's still here."
Then all eyes turned to the final contestant.
"Our last hope... Alaric!" Jiggs cried. "Drum roll, please!"
Everyone held their breath.
And the ever calm Alaric, still sitting, smiling, and poised like a queen himself, not a hint of being drunk.
The counter blinked.
And then—ding!
"ALAAAAARIC... with THIRTY BOTTLES OF BEER!" Jiggs screamed. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE MOON?!"
(Burp.)
"Oops!" Alaric daintily covered his mouth. "Oh dear. I may have overdone it."
"Mother!" Champ shrieked. "How come you drank thirty bottles and still look like a portrait of serenity!"
"I just wanted to enjoy the evening. I didn't know I was already at thirty bottles." Alaric smiled, sitting up straight while everyone else was practically slouched into unconsciousness.
"I LOVE YOU MY EVER SOFT FLOWER—" Voder began, then immediately passed out with a dreamy sigh.
Alaric giggled modestly.
"And there you have it, folks!" Jiggs yelled, tears of joy in his eyes. "Our winner! Sir Madam Alaric—who turned a drunken battlefield into a tea ceremony and still wiped the floor with everyone!"
Confetti exploded in the air. Drunken cheers echoed through the palace.
Alaric bowed politely.
Champ pouted dramatically.
Deux stared in awe.
Silver was being restrained.
Kali demanded a rematch.
Melior was inventing liver potions.
And Jiggs?
He laughed. He laughed so hard his crown almost slipped off.
Because this was it—the perfect ending.
Drunk.
Ridiculous.
Unfiltered.
And full of love.
...
...
...
Author's Disclaimer:
The following content contains mature, SPG-rated themes. Reader discretion is advised.
"Henry and Theron's Intimate Night"
The drinking party had ended, and the night had splintered into pockets of laughter and isolation.
High above the estate, on the crest of the veranda, two figures stood alone—Theron, the Ex-Alpha King, and Henry, his ever-curious Doctor Beta. The wind teased their skin, carrying traces of alcohol and celebration from below, but up here... it was just the two of them.
They stood side by side, quietly watching the festivities wind down.
"You alright now, Henry? The buzz wearing off yet?" Theron asked, his voice low and gravelly, touched with genuine concern.
"Mm..." Henry nodded slowly, meeting Theron's eyes.
And just like that, something shifted. The tension wasn't hostile—it was heavy, magnetic. Neither of them said a word as their faces inched closer. Closer.
Then—
Their lips touched.
It was soft. Startling. Electric.
Henry gasped and immediately pulled back, covering his mouth with wide eyes. "S-sorry! That wasn't intentional!"
Theron chuckled—calm, smug, deliberate. "Well... I meant it."
And before Henry could protest, Theron cupped the back of his head with one hand, the other tipping his chin upward. Then he kissed him again—deeper this time, slow and claiming.
And this time, Henry didn't pull away.
This time... he kissed back.
For a moment, all the nerves, all the fear—gone. Just heat. Just the unspoken bond between them finally breaking through the dam.
"I didn't think... this kind of thing actually happened in real life," Henry murmured when they finally broke apart.
Theron raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... I thought this kind of scene only happened in my books. The slow-burn confessions. The forbidden kisses. But now... I know exactly how it feels."
Theron grinned. "If I hadn't caught you reading those fantasy books about Alpha-Beta pairings, I wouldn't have known how much you secretly wanted this."
Henry blushed. "Wait... so it's true? You've liked me for a while now?"
"I told you before," Theron said, eyes dark and intense. "I've always been drawn to your mind."
Silence again. But this time, it burned with anticipation.
Then, Henry spoke—dead serious, unwavering.
"Theron... I want to carry your child."
Theron's eyes softened, his thumb brushing gently against Henry's cheek.
"Then come. Let's go to your room," he said, voice deepening. "Didn't you say you've prepared for this?"
Henry's Bedroom – A Few Moments Later...
Theron waited outside, his mind racing with visions of a sweet, romantic night: candles, roses, soft silk sheets... and Henry, blushing in a delicate robe, ready for him.
His blood ran hot just imagining it.
Then came the call.
"You can come in now, Theron! I'm ready."
Theron opened the door—
And stopped. Dead.
His instincts screamed danger, not because of threat—but from sheer shock.
The lights were dim, glowing red. Candles flickered like a demonic ritual. Rose petals littered the bed—but they formed a very specific shape.
A paw print.
There was a swing. Hanging from the ceiling. Reinforced with fur-lined restraints and... enchanted chains?
A bottle on the desk proudly proclaimed: "Omega-Grade Sensory Lubricant – Dragonfruit Flavor."
Theron blinked. Hard.
"What... the hell... is this?"
And then—there was Henry. Standing beside the bed, wearing the sheerest robe known to mankind. Clutched in his trembling hands?
And right now, he is holding guidebook. Titled:
"Beginner's Guide to Spicy Bonding: For Betas Who Want to Blow Their Alpha's Mind."
Henry gulped. "There are also videos. With tips. On how to achieve a successful impregnation. I told you—I prepared. We can watch it first, then do it after. Or, we can do it at the same time as the video step by step."
Theron just stared, eyes twitching. "Prepared... this?"
"I wanted tonight to be special!" Henry protested, cheeks redder than the candlelight. "I studied! I thought... maybe we could try something fun. I read this book, and I thought—this could be romantic! Since this is the night I'll get pregnant and all—"
He flipped the book open and began reading nervously.
"It says here in the book that I should walk to you slowly and seductively while dropping the robe one inch at a time—"
Theron facepalmed.
"Oh! And then, you're supposed to stay still while I perform a mating dance to stir our carnal heat. The guide also says—"
"Shhh." Theron growled. "Are you planning to read while we are doing it?"
He snatched the book from Henry's hands and—with zero hesitation—hurled it out the window.
"OW! Who just threw a porn manual at me?!" someone howled from below.
"You don't need a damn book, Henry," Theron said, approaching him with that signature predatory calm. "I thought you'd prepared from the heart. Turns out... it's all scripted."
Henry blinked, hurt. "Are you... mad?"
Theron exhaled. Then smirked.
"You don't have to be awkward. Or perfect. Or... whatever that book said." He took another step closer.
Henry backed up.
Another step.
Back again.
Until—click—his back hit the wall.
Theron pinned his hands to the side and leaned in, whispering into his ear, voice sultry and deep:
"Let's do it my way."
Henry swallowed.
"I-I brought a lubricant—y-you saw it right? It's got nutrients and amino acids that promote vitality and hormone balance—"
Theron rolled his eyes and lifted Henry up effortlessly.
Henry gasped as he was carried bridal-style toward the bed.
"Forget the taste of the lube. I want to taste your natural sweetness."
"But—but this one is dragonfruit-flavored with high absorption properties and antioxidant boosts. It's also expensive and I saw it has a high review. Five stars from the customers so I bought it."
"Stop throwing medical stats at me, Henry." Theron grinned wickedly. "I don't give a damn what's in that lube."
He dropped Henry onto the bed.
RIP!
The robe was gone.
Henry lay there—fully exposed, flushed, breathless.
Theron took a moment to admire every inch.
Then he moved between Henry's legs, spreading them wide with one hand.
"I want to taste every drop of what your body gives me."
And without another word—
He dove in.
Henry arched, crying out, his body trembling as Theron's tongue worked relentless magic.
He gripped the sheets, unable to hold still.
"W-wait...! T-Theron—!"
"No waiting," Theron growled between licks. "Tonight doesn't end until I've planted my seed inside you."
And just like that—
The night truly began.
...
...
...
"Jealous and Overthinker Jiggs"
While the celebration outside roared on with music and clinking glasses, Jiggs found himself in conversation with Champ and Deux near the garden fountain. Laughter echoed around them, but something tugged at Jiggs' senses.
"Have you seen Silver?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the crowd. "I haven't seen him for a while. It feels weird."
"Huh? Oh, there." Champ pointed across the lawn, smirking. "Flirting with Kali and the Omega girls."
Jiggs snapped his head toward the direction Champ gestured to.
And there he was—Silver—standing like a damn demigod surrounded by swooning females. He was flexing his arms like a soldier at a modeling shoot, proudly showing off his swollen biceps. The girls giggled, some squeezing the muscle with fascination, others fawning over his abs like they were sacred relics.
"Look at that shameless bastard," Jiggs hissed, his nose flaring. "I turn my back for one minute and he's already letting Kali and the Omegas fondle him like a public attraction! Champ, say something to your brother!"
"Why me?" Champ laughed. "Why don't you confront him? Or... maybe he's just into girls now. You know, ones with bigger chests than you."
"You take that back!" Jiggs snapped.
"Oh no, Jiggs," Champ teased with a devilish grin. "Now you know what it feels like. You always teased me before—saying Deux might leave me for someone with more... curves. So? How does jealousy taste?"
"I don't care about chest size!" Deux chimed in innocently as he pulled Champ into a back hug, nuzzling his shoulder. "But Silver? Maybe he's finally realized he wants someone with real... assets. Someone with breasts. You know, things he can actually hold on to."
"Absolutely not!" Jiggs fumed.
With a stomp, Jiggs marched toward Silver, fire blazing in his eyes.
Champ, meanwhile, was doubled over in laughter.
"Oh, karma is real!" he wheezed. "You teased me so much, Jiggs. Now it's your turn to be the jealous one!"
Deux whispered into Champ's ear, "Don't worry, my love. I don't care if you don't have breasts. You're more than enough for me."
Then he paused thoughtfully.
"Although... I've read that Omega males produce milk sweeter than Omega females after childbirth. I wonder what yours tastes like... maybe I can—"
"What the hell?!" Champ blurted, eyes wide. "You're seriously considering breastfeeding from me?"
Deux gave him a serious nod. "If it's sweet, I might get addicted. And then there'll be no milk left for our baby because I'll drink it all."
"Deux! You're insane!" Champ slapped his chest. "You want to latch onto my nipples 24/7?!"
"If you'll let me, I absolutely will," Deux replied, dead serious.
"Unbelievable!" Champ groaned, blushing furiously.
Meanwhile...
Jiggs was now directly behind Silver—whose rich laughter echoed with every flex and flirt.
The Omega females and Kali giggled as they slowly dispersed, but not before glancing behind Silver... and seeing the furious storm that was Jiggs, standing silently, eyes narrowed into deadly slits.
One by one, the Omegas fled.
"Where are you all going, beautiful ladies? I wasn't done talking—" Silver trailed off as he turned around.
And froze.
His blood ran cold.
Jiggs was right behind him. Arms crossed. Glaring.
"Oh. Uh... hey, My ever funny and lovely King. How long have you been there?" Silver asked, voice cracking.
Jiggs said nothing. Just glared harder.
"You didn't... hear anything... did you?" Silver tried.
Jiggs scoffed. "You mean—did I hear you flirting like your life depended on it? Did I hear you offer up your biceps to be worshipped like they're holy? Yeah. Loud and clear."
"F-flirting? Babe, come on—"
"I know I'm not a girl, Silver," Jiggs snapped, voice shaking. "I don't have perky tits or silky skin. But at least have the decency not to shove your damn mating display in front of me. Have some shame. Our future kid might be watching!"
"Wait—WHAT?" Silver's eyes bulged. "What the hell are you saying?!"
"Go have fun with your harem, Silver. From this moment forward, I'll raise our child alone. You—hands off."
"What?! I don't have a harem!"
"Oh really?" Jiggs shot back. "Then what do you call flexing like a pornstar and letting everyone grope you? You even made Kali drool over you! She's what? Twenty years older than you! She's like your mom already!"
"They were teasing me!" Silver defended. "Kali said my body didn't look that strong, so I—"
"So what, you wanted to prove them wrong? Why not let them grope your manhood while you're at it? Go ahead! Offer your whole damn body! Give them your precious, rare Sigma seed that's waiting to explode everyday, every second!"
Silver blinked. "Are you seriously mad? Wait—Jiggs. Are you... jealous?"
"Ask your Omega girls and Kali. Maybe they can tell you."
Silver sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable... I thought you were smarter than this. Guess even geniuses can act like fools."
"You have some nerve insulting me now—"
"Listen to me." Silver suddenly placed both hands on Jiggs' shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Those girls? I was asking them for advice."
"Advice? For what?" Jiggs asked, arms crossed but curiosity flickering.
"For us," Silver said, voice softer now. "I wanted ideas. I've been planning something—something memorable. Because once you give birth, things will change. We'll be busy. We won't have much time for each other."
Jiggs blinked. "You... you were planning something... romantic?"
"I wanted us to have something special. You know, I am not romantic. I don't know how to do this. So I had to ask the girls what I should do... Before everything changes. Before we become parents."
Jiggs' anger slowly melted into confusion. Then into surprise. Then into something warmer.
"...Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Silver smiled gently. "You jealous gremlin. Stop overthinking."
"Shut up," Jiggs muttered, cheeks turning red.
"Also," Silver began, voice tender yet commanding, "Kali told me that the most sacred thing a Beta can offer is a marriage bond. A legal union that says, in no uncertain terms, 'You are mine, and I am yours.' And since you're a Beta, I can't claim you with a mark alone—it won't be enough. So I want something eternal. I want us to be married."
He cupped Jiggs' hand between his own.
"In that way, I can say with my whole soul that you belong only to me. And just the same... I will belong only to you."
Jiggs furrowed his brows, then swatted Silver's arm lightly with a pout. "You jerk! I thought you didn't want me anymore!"
Silver blinked. "You're one to talk! I thought you didn't want me anymore."
"Huh?"
"Ever since you became King of Aurivelle... everyone wants your time. You're always surrounded. I used to be able to touch you anytime. Anywhere. Now you're this royal figure, and I feel like I'm losing my place beside you." His voice dropped, suddenly quiet. "You're not just an ordinary Beta anymore. And I... I don't know how to reach you like I used to."
Jiggs's heart dropped. "No! Don't ever think that! I still want you, all of you!" he cried.
Without another word, he grabbed Silver's wrist and dragged him away.
"Where are we going?" Silver asked, half-running behind him.
"To a private room," Jiggs declared, his face burning with urgency. "I'm going to give you everything. My time. My body. My entire self! Drain the juices from my birth canal if you want to! Suck me dry!"
"Oh hell yes," Silver grinned like a wolf. "And you'll do everything I ask? No 'your majesty' nonsense?"
Jiggs leaned close and whispered, voice low and dripping with submission, "When it's just the two of us... I'm not King Jiggs. I'm your obedient little pet. And you... are Master Silver—my only god."
"Perfect," Silver growled with a devilish smirk.
Scene: Behind Closed Doors...
Once inside, the moment the door clicked shut, Silver snapped.
He pushed Jiggs onto the bed, climbing over him with raw, unrestrained hunger. Without hesitation, he bound Jiggs' wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed with smooth yet firm knots—tight enough to restrain, soft enough not to hurt.
Then, he spread Jiggs' legs wide open.
"Do you want this, Jiggs?" Silver asked with a knowing grin.
"Yes, Master..." Jiggs whispered, biting his lip, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Please... make me yours."
Silver pulled open Jiggs' tunic, exposing his chest. His hands slid up slowly, then squeezed both of Jiggs' soft, sensitive chest.
"Ughhh..." Jiggs moaned at the contact, the warmth of Silver's hands making his skin tingle.
"Your chest is getting softer..." Silver murmured, voice husky. "There's milk stored here, isn't there?"
Jiggs whimpered, unable to respond. The pleasure overwhelmed him.
Then—suddenly—a drop of milky white fluid leaked from one of Jiggs' nipples, landing squarely on Silver's upper lip.
His eyes widened.
He licked it.
"...So sweet," Silver whispered, enchanted.
He squeezed again—this time, both nipples. The milk flowed more freely, trickling down Jiggs' chest, trailing into the dip of his collarbone.
Silver dipped down, tongue tracing every line of the spill. He licked up every drop like it was divine nectar.
Then—
He latched onto Jiggs' nipple.
Hard.
"Ahhnn—Mmmfff! S-Silver! W-wait!" Jiggs moaned, trembling. "You'll... you'll drink it all! What if there's none left for the baby?!"
But Silver was beyond listening.
His lips stayed locked, sucking hungrily, his hands massaging both sides of Jiggs' chest, milking every drop like a man possessed.
Jiggs writhed, overwhelmed by a dizzying mixture of pleasure and helplessness. The orgasmic release from both his nipples and below was building—overflowing.
He barely noticed the growing wetness under him, until Silver finally paused to breathe.
His chin glistened with milk.
Then he looked down—and grinned.
The sheets beneath Jiggs were soaked. Overflowing.
Silver licked his lips and sat up.
"Tell me, Jiggs," he said darkly, "do you want me inside you?"
Jiggs trembled, eyes half-lidded, breath shaky. "Y-yes... Master Silver. Please... take me."
Silver didn't wait another second.
He tore off his clothes in one motion, then shredded Jiggs' pants to reveal his slick, needy entrance—glistening, begging.
"Get ready," he murmured with a devil's smile. "Because after tonight... you're not walking straight for a week. And we will be having twins for sure."
...
...
...
"The Pregnant Wondeman Saga"
Five Months Later...
Champ waddled through the hallway like a storm cloud in pajamas, frowning with absolute purpose, clutching a mason jar with both hands like it was the most sacred relic known to mankind.
On the jar, in bold red marker, a warning was scrawled:
"DO NOT TOUCH OR EAT. Champ's Pregnancy Craving. Touch this and die in front of this dried mango."
You see, Champ was five months pregnant now. His belly had bloomed like a royal orb, round and proud—and his due date loomed closer each day. Any moment now, that little bundle of sass and power could decide it was time to be born.
But today's emergency wasn't contractions.
It was about the dried mangoes.
"I counted the slices in this jar!" Champ barked, stomping into the living room with the fury of a hormonal thunder god. "There were fifty-two yesterday. Now there are fifty-one! Someone. Touched. My. Mangoes."
"Deux!" he hollered like a summoning spell.
Deux appeared immediately—as if teleported by the sound of his beloved's distress.
"What's wrong, my love? Is something hurting? Do you feel anything strange? Stress is bad for pregnant Omegas, you know. You need to hydrate. I'll make you a vitamin blend. Or a tea. Yes, anti-heartburn tea. With relaxing herbs and an Omega-safe electrolyte base and—"
"I don't need tea, Deux." Champ sighed dramatically. "I need a back massage."
Deux instantly dropped behind him like an obedient butler, kneading his tense shoulders with practiced grace.
"Ahhh... thank the heavens I've got an Alpha father who's kind, obedient, thoughtful, and beautifully useful," Champ hummed.
"All for you and our baby. I don't want either of you getting stressed." Deux smiled.
But the peace didn't last long.
Champ's brows furrowed again. "Back to the mangoes! Someone stole a slice. And I will find out who."
Deux blinked. "Wait... didn't you eat it last night?"
Champ froze.
"You were watching your favorite drama, and there was a commercial break. You got mad. You said, and I quote, 'I won't let capitalism ruin my mood.' Then you grabbed one dried mango slice and chewed it with the happiest expression I've ever seen in my life."
Champ slowly turned to glare at him. "And you didn't remind me of this sooner?!"
Deux simply sighed.
Internally, he thought, Mr. Voder warned him about this... Omega males get irritable the closer they are to giving birth. Maybe Alaric was calm... but Champ? No chance.
"I heard that thought!" Champ yelled, eyes widening.
Deux flinched. Damn psychic bond.
Champ huffed and waddled over to the couch, cradling his belly like it was made of gold and glass. He lowered himself slowly—very slowly—into the cushions and exhaled like he had just climbed a mountain.
His feet, now icy cold, caught Deux's attention.
Without missing a beat, Deux rushed off and returned with a pair of socks.
He kneeled before Champ, ready to put them on for him—when Champ raised a hand to stop him.
"I'll do it," he declared, noble and defiant. "I am capable. I will put on my own socks."
"...You sure?" Deux asked gently.
"Yes. Absolutely."
Deux set the socks beside him.
Two small, innocent cat looking socks.
Staring.
Mocking.
Champ inhaled sharply, steeling himself. "I've still got flexibility. I've still got pride. I can put on a damn sock."
He reached.
Grunted.
Paused.
Switched legs.
Wheezed.
Tried both at once.
And then—
Collapsed backward onto the couch like a war hero who had taken an arrow in battle.
"You win," he growled at his stomach. "You may control my sleep, my bladder, my spine—but not my socks as well!"
The baby kicked in reply.
"Oh. So we're starting early, huh?" Champ glared at his belly. "Already sassing me? When you come out, I'm cutting your sugar. I'll sign you up for Etiquette classes. No late-night partying. And you will be grounded."
Another kick. Stronger this time.
"Don't sass me! I am your mother!" Champ snapped dramatically. "And I am still hot—even if I haven't seen my toes in a month!"
Deux chuckled from the corner. "Why are you arguing with our baby?"
"Because he started it!" Champ shouted, then pointed at Deux. "And it gets that stubbornness from you!"
"Maybe it gets it from you," Deux teased with a wink.
Champ groaned, grabbing a throw pillow and smothering his face.
"I swear, when you're born, I'm recording this moment in your baby journal. Day 142: Defeated by socks. Baby – 1. Champ – 0."
Deux knelt in front of him, softly pulled the socks over his feet, one after the other.
"There, I will put it for you everyday, my love." he said. "Now you're winning. Daddy Deux and Mommy Champ– 1. Baby – 0."
Champ looked up, teary-eyed. "You're my hero."
Deux smiled, brushing his fingers over Champ's ankle. "That's what I signed up for."
"...Wait." Champ squinted. "These socks feel really nice. Where'd you get these?"
"They're mine," Deux said with a kiss to his forehead. "I thought... maybe if you wore them, it'd feel like I'm hugging you."
"Hmph," Champ sniffed, looking away. "You should've warned me before lending me your socks."
But deep inside, his heart was bursting.
Then—
Another kick.
They both burst into laughter.
"I think our baby can feel how happy we are," Deux said, gently pressing his palm to Champ's belly before leaning down to give it a sweet kiss.
"Maybe they want to come out already," Champ said. "Maybe they're feeling a bit cramped."
But Deux noticed something. A shimmer. A sound.
And a... drip.
His brows furrowed.
"Champ... why are your legs wet?" he asked carefully.
Champ blinked. Then gasped, grabbing his belly.
"Oh no. Deux... I think... it's time!"
Deux's eyes widened in terror and awe.
"Wait—NOW?!"
"Yes! NOW!"
Panic and excitement tangled in his chest. He stood up, suddenly unsure of what to do with his arms. "Okay! Okay. Deep breaths. I'll bring you to Dr. Henry!"
He helped Champ up carefully, wrapping an arm protectively around him, guiding him toward the car. His face was trying to stay calm, but inside—
A storm of thrill, nerves, and oh my gods, this is happening! was brewing.
This was it.
He was going to be a father.
...
...
...