It soon became clear to us that the war was going to threaten the lives and livelihoods of people in the town. The Knights had sent messengers throughout the town to warn the townsfolk. I did not know whether they had warned of enemy shifters or not—perhaps it would be too much of a shock to break the news now.

Because most of the Knights were off to the front, no one was much in the mood for sex. The omegas were put to work helping townsfolk bunker down or evacuate. Some elderly or invalid people were invited to stay at the Guild, which, being close to the castle, was safe and comfortable, but many did not take us up on the offer. I was unsurprised.

I did find some comfort in the fact that people who might have previously shunned me for being an omega now gratefully accepted my help. My training and experiences had made me physically strong, so I was able to help families pack, carry children, and load carts so that people could escape to villages farther away.

I did visit my parents and help them as well, though they had chosen to stay in town. I was heartsick with worry, but they had the notion that they could help defend the town if it came down to that. I assumed, then, that no one had been told that the enemy had shifters.

This led to me to ponder, over the packing of pots, pans, and clothes, why the Knights would keep the secret even in dire times. Was it a matter of their standing in society? If people learned that the Knights were not unique, then perhaps they would not be as well respected. As it was, the townsfolk saw the Knights as something of a necessary evil—excellent for defending the town, but terrifying to interact with too closely. They preferred to have the Knights enclosed in their own plot of land and castle, never venturing out.

It also occurred to me that if people got the idea in their heads that there were enemy shifters, they could also become suspicious of our own Knights. It was entirely unfair, and I clenched my teeth in irritation. The Knights were no different from the other men I knew—just as arrogant, just as strong, just as loving.

By the end of the day, there wasn’t much else for me to do but wait. I was dead tired from all the labor I had done, but of course, I couldn’t sleep. Vivid images of Spar on the battlefield flickered on the inside of my eyelids, gory and horrific. My heart felt like it was stuck in my throat, and anxiety led me to sit on my bed for long periods, staring into space and ruminating.

There was a total lack of laughter from the other rooms, when normally I would hear the sounds of omegas and Knights enjoying each other. The lounge was also empty—it seemed that many of the omegas felt like being alone during this trying time. Or perhaps they had gone to stay with their families.

I started to become bored as my mind failed to focus on anything I tried to do. I ended up rubbing lotion into my hands, massaging my arms and legs to soothe myself. I looked out of my window, and the familiar explosions of light from juniors practicing their fireballs around the turrets of the castle were also absent.

Eventually, I managed to fall asleep, though I don’t at all remember when. My dreams were realistic and frightening, and they all involved Spar getting grievously injured or even killed. I woke up in the early hours of the morning and remembered the worvil, taking a packet and fixing a cup. I knew I would sleep at least until noon if I took it now, but at least it would rid me of the nightmares.

And it did. I woke up again, still exhausted, late in the day. I lay in bed for several minutes, my heart racing as the reality of life flooded back into me. I remembered the war and the Council meeting with Spar. I had awoken into a real nightmare, it seemed.

But the only thing I could do was go on. I wondered if the Knights were back from the front yet, or if there was any news at all. It was a good time for an early lunch, so after a quick bath—just enough to make me feel fresh—I went to the dining hall.

It was buzzing with activity, a stark contrast to the ghost town the corridors were last night. I located Leno and some others and sat down with them, picking over my salad listlessly. I had no appetite, though I knew I would feel worse if I didn’t eat. I realized with disgust that I didn’t even care how I felt. It was easy to just sit and listen to the omegas’ chatter, though.

“I heard that they’re going to win,” said one of them, Cass, a clever but boisterous sort. It would be just like him to spout rumors like that. But he was so smart that it was plausible that he was right.

“How would you know that?” asked another omega, Wyan. “There hasn’t been any news from the front.”

“That’s what you think,” said Cass, digging into his steak. “There are people still at the castle, you know, strategizing for the Knights. The knowledge isn’t all out on the front with them.”

That was an interesting thought. The implication was that someone was running messages from here to there—a dragon, obviously, since they could fly. What if it was Spar? Would I get a glimpse of him if I sat in the back of the Guild, with its view of the castle? Or would he be exercising the leadership he was developing, directing his team in battle? The thought made me want to vomit.

“And you just happen to have a source, I’m sure,” said Wyan with disdain.

“Obviously,” said Cass with a triumphant smile.

Wyan was missing what was clear—Cass was serving someone who was now working at the castle. Most likely he gave him the information last night.

“Well, we won’t know for sure until it’s all over,” said Leno diplomatically. “We can only pray for their safe return.”

“And our victory,” said Cass. “The other side has shifters too, you know.”

“They do not,” said Wyan, appalled.

“It’s true. Otherwise it wouldn’t be much of a war, would it?” continued Cass. “Or would there even be a war at all, if the Knights could just intimidate everyone else? Wars are power struggles—the other side has something, at least, that is equal to our Knights.”

Wyan was silent. Cass had made his point.

I didn’t like all the talk of war, so I finished my meal and bid them goodbye, wandering aimlessly until I found myself at the door of the infirmary. The nurse was there, still at his desk. A few of the townsfolk who had agreed to stay with us were in this room as well, so it was just a touch more crowded and noisier than usual. An older man and his wife, both grizzled and hunched over, peered at me curiously. I felt like I was being inspected, like an exotic animal.

Despite this, I felt immediately at ease in the infirmary. The cool air and plants reminded me of Spar’s garden, but instead of worrying over him again, I was able to bask in the memory. The breeze that filtered in through the windows was just like the one up on that hidden peak, and the way this room was secluded from the others gave it a hidden feeling, like I had discovered it simply by traversing the halls.

The nurse looked up at me, giving me a warm smile. “Is there anything I can help you with, Soren?” he asked.

“Um,” I said, at a loss. I had wandered in here by accident. “I’d like to thank you for the worvil and teas. I appreciate your kindness.”

“Physical health isn’t the only kind of health we treat,” he said. “I’m glad it helped.”

We were interrupted suddenly by a messenger, who bumped into me from behind, breathless, and swiftly apologized. He was wearing the uniform of the castle: a brick red tunic the same color of dragon’s hide with the dragon crest. He was holding a note, intended for the nurse, and my heart quickened as I realized that we were receiving news, possibly about the fate of our Knights. It was pure luck that I happened to be right here and not in my room or the dining hall.

The nurse took the envelope and opened it hastily, smoothing out the paper to read it. His eyes widened as he read. I was itching to know what was on that paper, but for all I knew, I was not senior enough to be privy to it. I would simply have to wait, along with everyone else.

The messenger didn’t wait for him to finish. Still buzzing with frantic energy, he quickly said goodbye and left, off to deliver more messages. The nurse put his hand on his mouth as he continued to scan the paper, and finally spoke.

“They did it,” he said. “They won.” He didn’t take his eyes off the paper though, and I peered down to see that it was a long note. “There have been some injuries, of course, two fatalities…”

I could hardly breathe in that moment. There wasn’t a chair available so I simply sat down on the floor, not caring what the townsfolk thought. Someone came up behind me and helped me into a seat. “Does—does it say their names,” I said, not daring to ask the question that I’m sure the nurse knew I wanted to ask.

“It’s not him,” he said flatly.

I sighed heavily and slumped in the chair. I knew it was improper, and from the periphery of my vision I could tell that the townsfolk who had inevitably gathered around were looking at me like I was a scientific specimen, but all that mattered, then, was that Spar was okay.

“They’re going to be returning tonight,” said the nurse. “Would you like an escort to your room? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

“I’ll be okay, thank you,” I said weakly, rising from the chair. I felt lightheaded and had to lie down. I remembered that I hadn’t eaten much all day, which was probably why I felt faint, but I still had nourishing medicines left from the nurse’s package.

“Take care, Soren,” he said, and I left to return to my room.

My heart was pounding wildly. It was just before dinnertime—which I had no appetite for, anyway—and I was itching to see Spar. But I had no idea when I would see him. I didn’t know whether they were returned, or still at the front, or on their way. I groaned as I came to the conclusion that I would have to continue to exercise patience. My best option, right now, would be to take one of the nurse’s medicines—maybe I could use just a dash of worvil, to knock me out—and wait.

It was the only sensible thing I could come up with. I drank the altered tea and lay down on my bed, curling up in the covers and feeling pathetic as I imagined myself curled up with Spar. The worvil came through eventually, and I dozed off to what would be a dreamless sleep.

* * *

That night, someone knocked on my door, waking me up. They didn’t bother to see if I replied to the knocking and just came in. It was Spar. He immediately gathered me in his arms, squeezing me so tightly that it hurt. Energized by seeing him, smelling him, touching him, I squeezed him back and we held on for a minute or two as I emerged from the fogginess of my nap.

“I was so worried,” I said, tears making my voice crack. My vision was going blurry as they welled up in my eyes, but he brushed them away tenderly.

“I know,” he said softly. “But it’s okay. I need to tell you something, though.”

This piqued my interest. Now that I was over the shock of seeing him again, I saw that he had a manic glint in his eye. “Er,” I said, unsure of what to do.

“To the garden,” he said, taking control of the situation. I was alert now, so I got up and grabbed a shawl, remembering the chill on that cliff. I quickly locked my door and we began the treacherous path through the corridors; we would absolutely have to avoid any senior omegas, or else we were done for. I went first, looking around corners, feeling like a spy in my own home. But we made it to the relative privacy of the back garden, where Spar stripped and transformed and we took off.

This flight was purposeful. Even under the scales, I could feel Spar’s muscles straining to fly faster. He was obviously anxious to tell me what he had discovered. I could only speculate, but the wind in my face was distracting enough and wiped away any traces of sleepiness. I could barely see the trees or lights below us as we zoomed away from the town in record time.

We had to fly higher than last time, so that anyone flying below wouldn’t see me on Spar’s back. Who knew if his superiors would be making rounds in the valley? It was better not to take a risk.

We arrived at the garden and alighted suddenly. I slid off like I was ready to jump into battle, and Spar’s dragon form shrunk into his human one. I gave him his clothes and he slipped them on, then extricated a blanket from behind some plants and wrapped it around himself; the evening wind was stiffer than it had been last time.

“I learned something on the battlefield,” he said, launching into his story even as he drew me close, under the warmth of the blanket. “I don’t want to get into the specifics of the experience, as war is something I hope you never encounter. But I found a dying enemy while sneaking through the tree line and he told me something.”

“You spoke to an enemy soldier?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” he said. “We fight hand-to-hand, or claw-to-claw, rather. You’re bound to get up close to the enemy. Anyway, he asked me to take a portrait he kept in a locket about his neck and see if I could get it back to his family. He was desperate. He wouldn’t have asked me, an enemy, unless he had to.”

“How would you even find his family,” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” said Spar. “That is a problem I will still have to solve. But the thing is, you’d assume family means his parents and siblings, right?”

“Obviously,” I said. I knew that some of the shifters’ families lived in the valley below the castle, as well as the forest, and that the shifters kept in contact with them like we kept in contact with ours.

“By family, he meant his wife and children. Here, look.” Spar produced the locket from the same plants where he kept the blanket. It was large, almost as if it was sized to fit a dragon rather than a human, and intricately shaped like a heart with patterns of stylized flames flickering on it. I opened it easily and gaped at the image inside.

“That’s him,” said Spar, pointing at the man in the family. He was standing next to a pretty young wife, who could have been any of my old schoolmates with her sweet smile and round face. She was sitting behind two children, just a few years old at most, who blinked at me through the paper.

“So tell me why,” continued Spar, “they’re allowed to have mates and we aren’t. The castle is just full of lies upon lies. First, they refuse to tell the townsfolk that the enemy has dragons, putting them in more danger than they would be otherwise, and now they tell us that we are simply not suited to be husbands and fathers?”

Spar was getting more and more incensed and I realized that he had held this rant in ever since he had discovered the portrait. I had never heard it put like that before—that Knights were unsuitable. I supposed it was verbiage that the Knights’ superiors had told them.

“All this time, I felt like I was defective, that something in me made me unfit to be caring, nurturing, protective of a mate and children. But this locket proves that that isn’t the case.”

Spar folded his arms over his chest and glared at me triumphantly. I had no idea what to say to him. “I didn’t know that they told you you were… defective,” I said finally, still gazing at the image of the little family, which was now forever broken.

“They didn’t use those words,” said Spar. “But the implication was clear. How could a fire-breathing monster care for a tiny child?”

There was a pause as we absorbed the meaning of the discovery as well as the responsibility of what we would have to do next. Anger started to rise in me as I realized what so many Knights had been forced to forgo, in the name of the protecting the townsfolk that feared them.

“Do you know when the Council meets next?” I asked.

“They meet every day,” said Spar, “after our drills.”

I hadn’t known that. But then, I hadn’t had any idea what the Council actually did, apart from the ceremonies I had been a part of.

“We’ll have to see them, then,” I said.

“I was hoping you would come with me.”

I looked up at him, embracing him slowly. “Of course,” I said. “I can’t imagine you going there alone. We’re a team. This is our fight.”

I could have sworn I saw glitter in his eyes, a brief moment of tearing up, but then I was sure I was imagining it. He pulled me close to his chest, and I took a deep breath, standing there and listening to his heart beat.

“Where should we go now? I’ll be missed,” I said.

“You won’t be missed,” said Spar. “The Knights are in no mood for their omegas—I’m sure many of them are just going to go to sleep.”

I relaxed somewhat at hearing those words. We continued to cuddle among the flowers, shielding each other from the evening wind, as I enjoyed Spar’s warmth heating up the blanket and pondered the revelation he had told me. I felt immense pain for the woman and children in the portrait. I didn’t care if they were the enemy—I had no idea why they even were the enemy. All I knew was that there was a woman out there whose mate wouldn’t be returning tonight. I got my mate back, but she wouldn’t get hers. The thought made me tear up and I brushed my eyes discreetly.

I was also sad for all the Knights who had never had the chance to know the love Spar and I shared, or the love a parent and child had, simply because they were instilled with the sense that they were not worthy of that love. The Council thought they were doing what was best, but did they know what pain they were causing? Or did they think they were in a position to force the Knights to make that sacrifice?

But hope rose in me when I thought of the fight Spar and I had ahead of us. The war had been won but we still had a victory to secure for ourselves. I wasn’t anxious anymore. Instead, I was filled with a curious sort of clarity. I was no longer worried about the devastating consequences of both of us being kicked out of our respective professions. I was becoming more comfortable with the idea of following what I really wanted. That was what I had done initially, after all. People had looked down on me for wanting to join the omegas, but now, I had found something glorious.

I recalled my first days here, and how I had admired the older men for having that grace and confidence that I knew I lacked. This was it, I thought. It wasn’t just the experience of having to endure roughness from the Knights, or disdain from the townsfolk. Not all of the omegas went through this situation exactly, but they all gained that same sense that they were in control of their destinies, from the moment they went through the gauntlet of scorn when announcing their desire to join the Guild.

And the longer I spent here, the less I cared about what other people thought. Yes, I was an omega. What did it matter? I loved my work and I loved Spar. I loved the fact that I had made a difficult choice and I continued to do what was right for myself, consequences be damned. No one else could make these choices for me, because I was the only one who would have to live with them. This was my life.

I felt a fire grow inside me as I reflected upon this, and it made me feel alive all of a sudden. Spar had survived, we were together, and it was all going to be okay. I looked up at him and brushed my cheek against his prickly jaw playfully.

“What’s that?” he asked, smiling indulgently. Not for the first time, we basked in each others’ gazes, thankful again that we were here together.

“I was just thinking of how lucky I am,” I said, “not only that I had the conviction to choose this life, but also to stay with you and fight. I know I made a mistake and left you once, but I won’t do it again.”

He kissed me gently on the lips. “Of course you won’t,” he said. “I know. You are a different man from the one I first fell in love with. Your obedience in the bedroom was what stirred my lust, but this… this is what makes me certain that you will be a strong, confident mate.”

My heart thrilled to hear him say that and without even thinking about it, I kissed him, holding his head in my hands. He returned the kiss with gusto, our tongues dancing around each other. I felt him brush my hair out of my face tenderly and position himself more comfortably, so that I was cradled in his lap.

His hands traveled downwards and caressed me through my tunic, sensually and gently. But when I reached down to see if he was hard, he moved with more vigor, kneading my flesh and nipping my lips. I pulled away and grinned at him, overtaken by euphoria.

“So, not all the Knights are ready to just get to sleep, are they,” I said, biting my lip.

“Not in the least,” Spar replied. “You’ve only ignited this dragon’s flame.”

He playfully jumped on me again, kissing me and pushing me down onto the soft bed of moss, easing my tunic off my shoulders. I looked up and found that the stars were bright over me, and the sky was cloudless, allowing them to shine and twinkle even brighter than they would in the town.

I sighed as he worked his kisses down my neck, to my chest. I was a lucky man indeed.

* * *

The next morning, Spar left for his drills after dropping me off near the Guild. The plan was for me to meet him at the castle, where we would go to the Council’s meeting room. I had some time to bathe and make myself look presentable before the big moment.

On my way to the castle, I ran into Lyral. I did a double take because the last time I had seen him, he had been a dragon. Yet I recognized him in his human form, even though I hadn’t seen him transform. His features seemed similar, as well as his arrogant swagger, but that wasn’t it. It had to be part of the inexplicable transformation magic.

I instinctively jut my chin out, proud in front of the man who had been so rude to me previously. But I needn’t have bothered. He seemed preoccupied.

“Spar told me what you’re going to do,” he said, worry written all over his face. He knit his brows and pursed his lips as if he were chewing on them, restless. “I want to wish you the best of luck.”

I wondered if Spar had been as stunned by this change of heart as I was. Why was he showing me any bit of kindness now? He had been so scornful of our love, implying that Spar was promiscuous, like the other Knights.

“I don’t need good wishes from someone like you,” I said, frowning.

To my continued surprise, he appeared to be crestfallen by my rejection. He stepped towards me; I resisted the urge to step back and instead stood my ground.

“So you haven’t yet seen Spar,” he said, and my confusion mounted. He paused, as if he was trying to find the right words. “Soren, I am profoundly sorry for my boorish behavior when I last saw you. There is no excuse, but there is an explanation. I am no stranger to the situation you and Spar are now in, but for me, there was no need to appeal to the Council.”

My mind raced. What could he possibly mean? Was he too in love with an omega?

“My lover was… killed. We were never able to express our love, in secret or otherwise.”

There was long silence as he collected himself. To my horror, a tear rolled down his cheek. The incongruity of the image was startling—no one would ever believe me if I told them I had seen a dragon Knight crying. I felt a guilty pang in my heart as I realized that I was simply falling for what we had all learned—that the Knights didn’t have an iota of tenderness or deep feelings. They were human, like everyone else.

“Soren, you have to do this and I know you can. I truly admire you and Spar for your strength and… I know you’re not the only ones.”

He clapped a hand to his mouth and strode off quickly, his long coat billowing behind him like wings. I was left dumbfounded, but I gathered myself quickly and continued towards the castle, my mind spinning with what he had just said. We weren’t the only ones.