The Sampling Ritual

[the_tower_room]

title: The Sampling Ritual
author: caledon (the_tower_room)
pairing: WYB/XZ (RPF)
rating: E
summary: It was eight years later, and Xiao Zhan finally got to meet his betrothed.
genre: omegaverse, fantasy, rpf
words: 5686

A/N: I set out to write SasuNaru omegaverse, but this came out instead :/



It was a pair of sullen brown eyes that gazed around the pavilion, the air redolent with the lotus blossoms that grew on the lake. The view was sublime, Xiao Zhan had to admit, lending a serene air that one could not help but feel at peace, as though everything was in their rightful place in the world. Lotus flowers spread out as far as the eye could see, taking over the area of the lake close to shore, the mountains a distant silhouette on the horizon; the columns and fences-with their dragon carvings-perfectly framed the view as though it was a painting. The pavilion he was on was at the end of a pier that extended from the White Peony Palace, the house of the Thirteenth Prince, in what was supposed to be their marriage meeting.

Brown gaze swept down on the ornate stone table in front of him, eyeing the dregs of the cooling tea on the cup, before he topped it up with more warm tea from the pot in front of him. With the ceremony that had been ingrained into him since he was a child, he delicately lifted the cup with one hand, fingers positioned in their proper places, his other hand raised up to hide his drinking of it.

This makes how many cups now? he wondered as he placed the cup back down on the table, automatically arranging the flowing sleeves of his robes so they did not get entangled with the tea and delicate pastries laid out on the table.

He had been dressed in one of the finest robes from his wardrobe: the inner layers light and airy, the style accentuating his swan-like neck, delicate collarbones, and unmarred scent glands; the outer robe only heavy with the weight of his family's crest ostentatiously embroidered in rich metallic threads, interspersed with beads and pearls. The top part of his long black hair had been artfully looped and accessorized with a tasteful display of hairpins, while the rest had been left to flow freely down his back.

For all intents and purposes he was made to look as demure as what the ideal unmated omega ought to be on their first meeting with the alpha mate that had been arranged for them. He was feeling anything but, though. He had been waiting a while, as the nearly empty teapot could attest. Inside, Xiao Zhan seethed with impatience and affront at being kept waiting.

Hadn't it been long enough? he thought, remembering back to the time when he'd first been approached about this marriage prospect, back when he was eighteen and had presented as an omega. A multitude of potential suitors had come lining up at their door, with much gifts and promises offered for his hand, and his parents had been pleased with some and dissatisfied with others. He had not been allowed to participate in the screening of various alpha and beta men and women, though; had been barred from the main hall where the scents of these unknown visitors could drastically affect his newly developing omega senses by forcing him to choose before he truly was ready.

However, the parade of suitors had suddenly grounded to a halt one day with the arrival of an imperial carriage and retinue.

It was an impromptu visit from one of the emperor's concubines-and such a thing would usually have been against imperial protocol but for this particular concubine, to whom no laws of man could apply. Hurriedly, the house servants had ushered her into the main hall, had bid her sit upon the daïs where the master and mistress of the house would have sat, and served her their best tea and cakes, with his father and mother kowtowing low to her presence. This was the only visitor Xiao Zhan had been allowed to meet with, for there had been no need to worry about any kind of scents affecting his critical thinking or decision-making skills. Dragons were, after all, scentless.

She was in human form, resplendent in rich robes befitting her station, bearing a regal aloofness that was not at all haughty nor proud, but rather detached, as though she herself was unaffected by the very subject that brought her to them.

She had sought him out as a mate for her son, the Thirteenth Prince, who, she had reported, had somehow become enamoured with Xiao Zhan, and so she had come to place an offer for him in his stead. Although at that point in time the prince was still too young and unpresented, and there would be quite a number of years yet before he presented his secondary gender-a trait he'd inherited from his human father, she explained, for dragons had no such cumbersome biology-she hoped that Xiao Zhan and his family would consider the offer acceptable despite the wait.

It was a match beyond what they could have hoped for. Dragons stood higher in the hierarchy than even the emperor himself-for if the emperor was symbolically considered the son of heaven, the dragons were the ones that created heaven itself-celestial beings that freely roamed the world, unencumbered by the needs and vices of humans. It was beyond an honour, for not only would Xiao Zhan and his family be associated with the imperial clan, but that of the dragons as well, and upon accepting, would gain his family fame and fortune, with the only thing lacking being political power.

Dragons were already a power unto themselves, and the governance of humans were something they've left for humans to shoulder. Even the emperor had considered it a blessing that a dragon deigned to lower herself to become his concubine and bear him a child; beyond that, the emperor himself could ask for nothing more (he already had his empress and his heirs, and it was unthinkable for human laws to allow his dragon child to become a ruler of humans).

And now, eight years later, with his bridegroom finally having presented as an alpha, Xiao Zhan had been summoned into the imperial palace for the sampling ritual that would determine the compatibility of his and the Thirteenth Prince's secondary genders with each other. Xiao Zhan had been nervous at first, knowing that the ritual usually entailed an introduction of the two parties alone by themselves via tea and conversation, held at first in a neutral location, and if all went well and a rapport was found, could be relocated to a more private venue where the activity could lead to an immediate physical intimacy. Which, if successful, would consequently be followed through by the ceremony that would legitimize their mating in the eyes of the imperial court and human society.

He had arrived at the imperial palace with his parents and retinue the day before, where, after having greeted the emperor at his court, they were led to a courtyard palace reserved for guests who were expected a prolonged stay. That was where he was prepped for his meeting today, after which a palanquin came and bore him towards the White Peony Palace, and into the lotus pier annexed to it, where he now found himself in.

But with every moment that his bridegroom kept himself absent from their meeting, Xiao Zhan's nervousness gradually petered out, giving way instead to the impatience and affront that now seethed inside him.

Discarding decorum entirely with an annoyed sigh, he leaned his elbows on the table, a cheek cupped upon a palm, the fingers of his other hand drumming a nonsensical beat on the table's surface. He just wanted this whole day to end, get things over with.

For eight years he'd suffered through the unknown that was his fiancé. For other than him being the 1) Thirteenth Prince, 2) named Wang Yibo, and 3) a son of the emperor and a dragon, nothing else was known of him.

Not being in line for the throne, there had been no need for his presence at court unlike his siblings who were required to learn politics and how to manoeuvre the plots and schemes that were rampant at court. And he was one of the two subjects that even gossipy courtiers avoided speaking of (the other was his mother, the dragon concubine). Not that there was anything wrong with the prince-those that Xiao Zhan had asked had tried to convince him-because, well, he was a dragon. One simply didn't treat a dragon as they would a human. That would be akin to complaining to the sun that it was too bright and burned too hot, as though expecting the sun to become something other than what it was. A dragon was a dragon; the Thirteenth Prince was what he was. What more was there to know?

Plenty, Xiao Zhan told himself. What was he like as a person? Would he be as cold and aloof as his mother? What did he look like? Would they be able get along? And what about scents? Would Xiao Zhan be able to handle it-to have a mate that he could not scent? How would that work? It was unfathomable, wasn't it?

And the dragon concubine had mentioned that the prince became enamoured with Xiao Zhan-how exactly?

Had they already met and Xiao Zhan had been none the wiser? If so, when did that happen?

For eight years he waited: suffered through heats alone, trying to imagine a lover to share it with but whose face he couldn't make out. With the news of his engagement, he had become off-limits to everyone else. Having to suppress his own natural scent with medicinal herbs and perfumes in order to further exhibit that he was no longer an available prospect. Whiled away his heats with the assistance of a toy or two with varying degrees of dissatisfaction. And wondered more than once if all the years of waiting would be worth it in the end. Wondered if the partnership should fail before it could even begin, would not those eight years have been spent in vain? By now, if he'd ended up accepting someone else's suit, he would have had a proper alpha or beta mate, would have had already provided a houseful of pitter-pattering pups like a proper omega.

He couldn't help tutting in dismay and shaking his head to try to dispel it, feet tapping on the floor as his gaze roamed once more over the picturesque surroundings of the lotus flowers and leaves floating on the lake's surface; at the ornate columns of the pavilion; at the richly intricate carvings of dragons and vines on the corbels and the ceiling, whereupon on one corner a large figure of a dragon had been carved to look as though it was peeking down from the roof to peer into the pavilion.

Eyeing the large dragon head that seemed to stare at him, Xiao Zhan absentmindedly thought that this architectural detail made sense since this was part of the White Peony Palace; it was simply one among the myriad dragon art interspersed in the palace to remind its occupant of what it was. Although a bit unnerving, he had to admit, for it gave off the feeling that it was alive and watching him.

Xiao Zhan blinked dazedly.

That sculpture had been there all along, right?

Allowing himself to be distracted from the thoughts that had plagued him about his plight, he wondered what kind of material that statue was carved from. From his vantage, it didn't look like stone or wood, and the paint job was rather exquisite to his trained artist's eyes, the mixture of colours on the scales lending them an iridescence the shone gorgeously in the light. Rising from his seat, his feet took him close to stand in front of it, his brown eyes examining the realistically carved elongated face (the size of which spanned from the top of Xiao Zhan's head to his waist), appreciating the detailed work on the deep-set eyes, the long whiskers and mane that looked as though they flowed through the air at the barest touch of a breeze, the jut of the horns near the ears. When he realized that the neck curved out of the pavilion to extend all the way up to the roof, he couldn't help leaning over the fence to take a closer look at how far up the roof the sculpture went.

And then startled himself into falling over the fence into the lake with a yelp when the head moved to follow his movements.

But was saved by the timely intervention of a clawed hand catching him before he could make more of a fool of himself, only the hems of his robes ending up in the water as evidence of his near folly.

For a moment, Xiao Zhan could barely breathe, a detached part of him taking stock of the position he now found himself in. Whilst held aloft over the water, he noted that he seemed to be straddling between his legs what would appear to be the dragon's pinky finger, while what would appear to be the thumb and the rest of the fingers encircled his torso. He couldn't help the hitch in his breath when the pinky finger moved, all too aware of what part of him was touching it with the way he was sitting. His hands were still held up in the air, his mouth still open mid-scream, as his eyes did nothing but feast on the figure that held him.

The more he took in the dragon, the more he became aware of his breathing turning heavy and ragged; of his skin heating up; of his scent glands beginning a staccato throb that gradually began to release his natural sweet omega fragrance in the air; of the pulse of arousal between his legs that made him want to close them, to squeeze the appendage that lay between them, but at the same time made him want to raise the seat of his ass in case his slick began its inevitable downpour. The thought of the latter made him embarrassed enough to compose himself, lowering his hands onto the thumb and forefinger (somewhat soft and leathery at once) that encircled his chest, tapping them to try to signal to the dragon.

“Please,” he implored with a voice that came out husky, “please put me down.”

Gently, as though he was gliding through the air, the hand brought him back into the relative safety of the pavilion's interior, setting him on his feet by the table and whereupon he collapsed onto the closest chair, arms holding onto the table to hold the rest of his body up, not even mindful of the wet ends of his outfit clinging to his legs.

He felt a tickle of a movement on his shoulder, the hand that had once held him stroking the outline of his hair, making his body shiver. Though large, the hand was dexterous enough to gently pull a hairpin free from his artfully arranged coiffure, and used it to trace the planes of Xiao Zhan's face, down one cheek, around his chin, up the other cheek, and down from forehead to nose to lips, ending at the mole that hid below the corner of his mouth. He couldn't help the irrepressible pull he was feeling, something in him instinctively knowing that this was who he had been waiting for. And that, even just here, at the beginning, it was somehow all worth it.

“You are so beautiful,” spoke a deep voice in wonderment, that Xiao Zhan felt all the way to his groin, the pulse there a loud echo that throbbed throughout his whole body, making him aware of his heart pounding faster. He couldn't help the shiver that made his belly recede into his spine, that made a droplet of slick slip past his opening.

“Still so beautiful as the first time I ever saw you.”

At this, through the haze of the beginnings of arousal, Xiao Zhan managed to ground out, “When?”

“Long ago, when you were first brought to court. Before you presented as an omega.”

A small surprised gasp issued out of him, and he turned his face away from the hairpin that had still been tracing his features as he tried to recall that time. It would have been just before he turned eighteen, when his family was invited to attend the First Princess's wedding. And the Thirteenth Prince was six years younger than Xiao Zhan, which would have made him...

“I would have claimed you sooner,” the dragon continued, “but the human in me must adhere to the customs of the court. I could not bring myself to bring dishonour upon you even if the dragon in me is above such a law.”

Xiao Zhan understood the rationale behind it; understood it even back then, at eighteen, when the dragon concubine made the offer for his hand in lieu of her son. At the thought of her, of meeting her in human form, he started, eyes darting back to the dragon's face, trying to find the human in him.

“Let me see you,” Xiao Zhan suddenly said.

The dragon was taken back, tilting his head. “Are you not seeing me?” answered he in a tone of bewilderment interlaced with sarcasm.

Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes, and released an exasperated sigh. “I meant your human form.”

The dragon nodded in understanding. “Ah.”

Xiao Zhan didn't know how he could tell, but there certainly was a smirk in the dragon's visage.

There was a blur of movement, of air being displaced, a sudden breeze that wafted over him, and suddenly there was a presence kneeling behind where he sat in the chair, the touch of long fingered hands stroking him from shoulder to arm to waist made him jump in place in startlement. He couldn't help his own hands from chasing after them, noticing how bare the arms were, catching a pair of all-too-solid wrists in his grip, too large for his fingers to circle around, grounding him to the fact that what he held was real; that they were breathing the same air and sharing the same space.

And then came the same sinfully deep voice in his ear that whispered, “As you wish.”

He couldn't help that shiver that tingled through his body, a suddenly-learned automatic response to the voice and the touches, to the warm puff of air in his ear that accompanied the words. Xiao Zhan uttered a gasp, simultaneously wanting to flee and wanting to stay, bending his head to the side to bare the scent gland in hopes of enticing the mouth that nibbled at his ear.

Why-? What-? came his scattered thoughts at the touch of lips and breath on his heated skin, of those hands that rose to cup at his chest, a hand over his heart feeling its drastic rhythm, his eyes hungrily tracing the sinew and veins and play of muscles on the unclothed arms. Xiao Zhan's robes became more wet, this time from the steady trickle of slick that poured out from his hole, caused by the sensation of the lips on his ear, on his neck, on his shoulder, searing his already heated nerve-endings. At the intimation of a bite on his scent gland, he managed to speak out in a whine, “You still have not shown yourself to me.”

He felt a puff of a chuckle on his neck, and one of the hands that was stroking his chest came up to cup his cheek and turned his head so he could look over his shoulder.

And Xiao Zhan felt as though the breath had been punched out his chest.

Dark, limpid eyes met his with an intensity he knew he could never match, as though he was all they ever saw; as though he was the only thing worth seeing. He felt like he could melt just from that gaze alone, and when he couldn't take it anymore, his own eyes roamed over an oval face, a perfect nose, a sharp jaw, long fall of hair unbound and spilling free. There was the hint of bare shoulders and chest in his periphery-but Xiao Zhan was too concentrated on the pair of full lips that quickly drew near to kiss his own-or at least, at the bottom corner where his beauty mark lay. He felt electrified at the sensation; of sharing breath and passion and touch; and he craved more, instigating a series of smacks and nips against the other's lips, instinctively opening his mouth in invitation for more. But no matter where he turned his head to try to capture those lips in full, nor how he had to strain his neck at an awkward angle from the position they were in, the prince only seemed to be interested in giving all his attention to Xiao Zhan's beauty mark.

Xiao Zhan couldn't help clicking his tongue in exasperation, finally turning in his seat to face the dragon prince properly, and his eyebrows rose up to his hairline in surprise at the nudity displayed before him: at the sculpted chest that made way to the hard planes of abdominal muscles, the v-line on the hips prominently pointing down to a sight that he was disappointed to find was covered up for modesty by the long hems of Xiao Zhan's robes, although there was a telltale tenting that more than hinted at the prince's lustful interest. His eyes raked up the naked torso, alighting on the prince's face, where he was greeted with a mischievous grin, eyes lit up with laughter and arousal and wonder. Eyes that seemed to communicate in ways that words spoken aloud couldn't. They seemed to say: Thank you. For willing to wait all these years. I almost can't believe that you truly are here.

The sense of relief and mirrored gratefulness that Xiao Zhan felt at that was nearly overwhelming, making tears spring in his eyes. Yes, he thought with conviction. The wait was worth it.

“Do you know who I am?” the dragon asked.

Xiao Zhan nodded, his hands rising from his lap to cup the prince's cheeks. “You are Wang Yibo. The Thirteenth Prince. My alpha.”

There was no hiding the pleased smirked that stretched the corner of Wang Yibo's lips at Xiao Zhan's verbal claim of him. “At your service,” he responded with a cavalier attitude, large hands encircling Xiao Zhan's waist, and he drew closer, insistently spreading Xiao Zhan's knees apart to take his place between them. “And how may I service you, my omega?”

Oh, how Xiao Zhan's belly pulled somersaults at those words, the parts of him that was pressed against Wang Yibo's body tingling uncontrollably, feeling as though even every hair in his body was all-too-aware of the contact and were raising up in equal parts protest and acceptance.

“Kiss me,” replied Xiao Zhan. When Wang Yibo surged up to comply, Xiao Zhan mouthed against his lips, “Properly, please.” He felt the answering grin against his mouth, felt a large hand cup the back of his head, fingers entangling in his hair, and Xiao Zhan succumbed to the pull of those lips against his, demanding, rendering him breathless, maddeningly sucking at his upper lip and lower lip at intervals, of the tongue that came into his mouth to lick at his own. There were helpless moans being wrung out of him, but he had to finally pull his lips free so he could breathe, whereupon the prince simply continued his ministrations to that damnable beauty mark that had entranced him before.

Lost in a daze, feeling how hard his cock was and the copious amount of slick that continuously spilled out of him, with half-closed eyes and wandering hands he examined the smooth, bare skin before him.

“Why are you naked?” he idly wondered aloud, watching his fingertips trace their way down a broad shoulder to dusky nipple. “Where are your clothes? Isn't there a rule against nudity at court? I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to roam around the imperial palace with no clothes on.”

The prince pulled back with a damnable grin directed at him that Xiao Zhan had begun to learn was all too dangerous for his peace of mind.

“My dragon form has no need for clothes,” answered Wang Yibo, his own hands reaching up to pull the rest of the hairpins free from Xiao Zhan's hair, dropping them haphazardly onto the floor. “If I transform clothed,” he continued as he brushed his fingers through Xiao Zhan's now unbound hair, “they would rip, which is not only a waste of materials, but of the labour and care that went into the making of them.”

Xiao Zhan threw back his head as he surrendered to the sensation of Wang Yibo stroking his hair. “So you just go around all over the place naked...?”

“In dragon form, yes.”

Wang Yibo took advantage of the position, and swiped his tongue from Xiao Zhan's collarbones and up to his chin, then scattered kisses and licks from his jaw to his shoulder, mouthing at the scent gland at the base of his neck. Xiao Zhan's hands rose up, hugging the prince's head to his neck, eyes at half-mast absentmindedly roaming the pavilion until it landed on the corner where he first spied the dragon.

“Wait, have you been here all this time?” asked Xiao Zhan with a frown.

There was the scrape of teeth on his earlobe. “Here, as in-”

“While I was waiting all this while?”

“Mn,” the prince murmured his assent as he sucked a mark on Xiao Zhan's neck.

“Naked. As a dragon.”

“Mn.”

Xiao Zhan pushed at Wang Yibo's chest so he could look at him properly. “Were you planning on mounting me as a dragon?”

The prince was taken aback as though the idea had never occurred to him until now. “If you like. I could.”

To Xiao Zhan's surprise, he found that he himself wasn't opposed to the notion. However, he felt that that could probably happen some other time. He would rather try taking his alpha's cock in human form first, experience how it differed from the toys he'd played with before.

“Why were you in dragon form all this time?”

“I just wanted to stare at you.”

Xiao Zhan raised an eyebrow at that. “Stare at me.”

“Yes.”

He huffed, affronted. “That's all? You were simply just planning to stare at me all day while I waited here wondering if you were ever going to show yourself?” He found himself growing more and more annoyed by the second, making him feel extraneously ridiculous, causing him to quip: “What if I wanted to stare at you instead?”

Wang Yibo spread his arms. “Feel free to do so, at all your leisure. If it's you, I have no problem with that.”

“Ugh.” Xiao Zhan covered his face with his hands. “You're incorrigible,” he mumbled, feeling exasperated yet pleasantly pleased despite himself. He didn't know what he expected; all those years of wondering what would happen when they finally met-plagued by questions and fears, for the prince was still part of the imperial family, so certain behaviours and ceremony were expected, putting on airs and graces and manners. He had been ready to put on the act. Be all demure and well-mannered and full of obeisance. Had been ready to show that he could be a proper mate to an alpha prince.

Only for Wang Yibo to turn out like this. Quite a pain. Rather annoying. Bad for his heart. Defying any kind of expectations he might've had of what his image of the Thirteenth Prince was like.

A dragon was a dragon, he'd been told. Despite Wang Yibo being a prince, he was still a dragon. Unencumbered and free from human expectations.

And Xiao Zhan found that he was liking him all the same.

“I hate you,” said Xiao Zhan, expression fond, as he pushed his outer robe off over his shoulders.

“Do you now?” countered Wang Yibo as he reached out to undo Xiao Zhan's belt, divesting the omega of the inner layers of his outfit, pushing them off his body to pool at the chair Xiao Zhan sat in. Dark eyes hungrily roamed the expanse of skin that had been revealed, licking his lips before leaning in to suck a rosy nipple into his mouth, one hand wrapping around his waist while the other encased the cocklet that was standing amidst a patch of dark curls. “I'm confident that I could change your mind.”

“Please do,” implored Xiao Zhan, and Wang Yibo pulled him down into his lap, where he could feel the length of the alpha's dick push against his ass through the layers of fabric that separated them. Xiao Zhan's robes were ruined beyond measure from the stain of water and slick and precum, and he found that he couldn't care less, more enamoured by the body that writhed against his, of the large hands that trailed down his back to cup his ass cheeks, spreading them wide for fingers to teasingly graze at his opening.

The omega reached between them to pull the alpha's cock free from the hems of his robes, marvelling at how it differed from his own and from his toys. He'd never taken anything this size; he could scarcely imagine what it would be like in dragon form.

Xiao Zhan sucked in a breath as Wang Yibo inserted a finger in his hole, stiffening above him at the intrusion. A finger alone was already too much, thicker than what he was used to. It simply breached him unexpectedly without warning, unlike when he administered to himself and he had control of when to begin and how to pace the thrusts.

There was a muttering of sweet nothings in his ear, of a hand stroking his back to soothe him, until Xiao Zhan's muscles began to relax and welcome the intruding digit, his hips undulating to take more of it in.

The second finger, and then the third, were as the first, each one requiring a period of adjustment. Xiao Zhan found his face buried in Wang Yibo's neck, teeth biting down on the scent gland there, finding comfort in discovering that the prince had them even if they produced no scent for Xiao Zhan to encompass himself with.

When Wang Yibo's cock pressed into him, Xiao Zhan felt as though he was still unprepared for it. Couldn't help watching from above as it slowly but surely pierced him. He felt like forever passed them by before he bottomed out, ass finally pressed against Yibo's lap, stomach distended from the length he was speared on. With voice and breath seeming as though they were punched out of him as he was repeatedly pounded into, he could only hold on to the prince's shoulders with his arms, could only encase the prince's hips with his legs. Could only writhe and scream as the cock hit against his prostate over and over, causing him to cum before he knew it.

And then after that came the knot-the burn as it further stretched him open was truly something else-and then warmth was flowing into him as Yibo came inside him, spurting deeply into his channel, even as pain burst in his scent gland from a claiming bite.

Overwhelmed with too much happening at once, Xiao Zhan blacked out.

When he came to, it was the day after, in the room he was assigned to in the guest's palace, and he was being woken by maidservants.

Despite feeling raw and sore as he'd never been before, he allowed himself to be prepped for the day: soaking in a perfumed bath that soothed tender limbs, only half-listening to the excited murmur of the maids that the Thirteenth Prince himself had brought Xiao Zhan back last night, instead of the palanquin like everyone was expecting. He had already been cleaned up and dressed in a fine set of sleeping robes when he was brought back, they reassured him, the prince even went so far as to gently deposit him on the bed before taking his leave. He could see the curiosity they could barely resist hiding sparking the question in their gazes of what it was like to be mounted by such a handsome figure.

Afterwards, his omega father and the imperial omega doctor came in to inspect him. As per protocol his bite and his hole were examined and were found to have received no damage or trauma, just what would be considered normal under the circumstances. After the proclamation of his wellness and congratulatory well-wishes for his success in the sampling ritual, the doctor took her leave.

And then he was attired in his wedding garments, with his hair now pulled up and held in place by yet more pins and ostentatious jewelled adornments, followed by the veil. Through a haze of red Xiao Zhan and his parents were brought into the main imperial court, all decked in celebratory wedding decorations.

At the front, standing before the emperor, stood the Thirteenth Prince (in what was one of the few occasions where the dragon was allowed at court). Clothed, this time, Xiao Zhan was pleased to note, clad in a set that matched his crimson wedding robes.

The elation that expanded at his chest at the sight of his alpha made tears spring in his eyes and a smile stretch upon his lips. And while the teasing, mischievous grin was nowhere to be found on the prince's regal face, where Wang Yibo looked as though he was the very epitome of all the decorum of airs and graces expected at court, the dark eyes that gazed at Xiao Zhan in marvel and adoration told him otherwise.

I'm yours, they seemed to say. All yours forever. Are you mine?

Xiao Zhan took Wang Yibo's hand and repeated the vows in his heart.

“Yes.”