Chapter 1: The Matchmaker

The last normal day of Dean's life began as any other, with the rooster crowing.

The tall omega groaned and rolled onto his side, ignoring the dog licking at his face as he started making a mental list of the chores he had to tackle before heading into town. This was the day he had to meet with the village Matchmaker, and rumor had it that Crowley was impossible to impress. As the only omega in town with any actual power, he tended to flaunt it to inflate his own sense of self-importance. And now Dean had to convince him that he was worthy of an alpha or beta mate and uphold the Winchester Family Honor.

He slipped into dark pair of loose pants, finding a pair of outdoor slippers to match and grabbing his darkest shirt. Slipping his arms into the loose sleeves, he crossed the lapels over his chest and tied the sash, heading out of his room.

His father was a very wealthy, highly respected noble alpha, with a mate and three children, though one was from a concubine who had left a decade ago. Dean's mother hadn't gotten along with the concubine at all, so John had eventually sent her away, keeping her beta son and raising him along with his older sons. As a retired General from the Emperor's army, John had brought a great deal of honor to the Winchester Family, and it now fell to his children to continue that tradition. As an omega, Dean's only way to ensure that his family remained strong was to put on a good show for the Matchmaker and be assigned to mate one of the village alphas or betas.

Dean finished feeding the chickens and his father's warhorse, eating his breakfast quickly as he brewed a small pot of tea and headed for the family shrine. As expected, he found his father kneeling there, offering a prayer to the Winchester and Campbell ancestors in the hopes that they would protect and guide Dean on this important day. Knowing better than to interrupt his father, Dean knelt behind him and bowed his head, offering his own silent plea.

"You should have already left for town," John scolded, turning to accept the plate holding a teapot and a single cup from his eldest son. "Your mother will be furious if you are late."

"I won't be late," Dean assured him cockily, one of the many alpha traits he had picked up from his father and brother over his twenty years of life. "Besides, I had to make sure that you got your tea this morning since she left early to go to town."

John chuckled as he raised his cup to his lips. Giving himself a moment to savor the beverage, he raised his free hand and made a shooing motion at his child. "You know, if you had listened to Kate better when she had tried to teach you about being an omega, you wouldn't have to go to the Matchmaker today. I could have arranged a marriage for you on my own long ago, but you are not the good little submissive that most alphas are looking for, and you have overpowered every beta you ever met. Crowley is your best bet to find a mate, and you cannot screw that up by being yourself. Please try to remember your lessons."

"I will, Dad," Dean promised, rising to his feet and heading off to find his father's horse and head to town. In the back of his mind, he started to repeat the litany of omega Rules that he would have to know for the Matchmaker, especially the ones that he always screwed up. Inside his father's house, it was acceptable for him to act dominant and talk back, but he would have to bury that part of himself down very deep if he hoped to impress the Matchmaker today.

"He's late."

Mary raised one eyebrow at Ellen Harvelle, the older, auburn-haired beta raising her hands in surrender. Normally, only omegas would assist on Matchmaker day, but Mary was a beta and didn't really have many friends in town who weren't also betas or alphas like her mate. Garth Fitzgerald-Myers, a skinny toothpick of a man with a heart of gold, was the only exception, and he was glad to help prepare Dean for the day he would finally be assigned a mate. Garth's father, whose name he shared, had found the young man a perfect beta almost two years earlier, the only non-alpha pup of John's old war buddy Jim Myers. Bess and Garth were perfect together, the clear indication that the young man embraced his subgender eagerly, unlike a certain Winchester son.

"Maybe if you had hired an omega tutor earlier, he wouldn't be so rebellious."

"I tried," Mary admitted, "but John took her as a concubine and I couldn't stand her after that. He knows how I feel about sharing."

"Yeah, I know. Even though I couldn't have any more pups after Jo, my mate never dared to hint at wanting a concubine. I wouldn't have blamed him, but it never came up." Ellen, who was just as headstrong and too-alpha as Mary, clenched her jaw and refused to continue that line of conversation, though her friend knew what she was thinking. William Harvelle had died in the last war, one that John, Jim, Bobby Singer, and Rufus Turner had survived. For a long time, Ellen had blamed those four men, and especially John, for her mate's death, but she eventually forgave them all. Now, there were even rumors that she was seeing Bobby, whose own mate had been dead for nearly two decades, and might be considering a trip to the Matchmaker by the end of the year for his blessing.

"I notice that Jo hasn't found a mate yet, either," Mary teased, eager to break her friend's black mood. "Too bad it didn't work out between her and Dean."

"Your son is too much of a handful," Ellen countered. "He doesn't act like an omega, and Jo wants to be the dominant one in her relationships. What Dean really needs is a submissive beta, if one would be willing to take him on."

"We'll have to see what the Matchmaker says," Mary replied, pointing toward a very familiar black stallion thundering down the main street of town. "My prodigal son has finally arrived."

"It took you long enough," Ellen scolded as Dean slipped down from his horse, crossing her arms over her chest as she realized that the boy hadn't even bothered to use a saddle. "If I see you riding barebacked one more time, I will tan your hide so bad you won't sit for a week!"

"Yes, Auntie Ellen," he murmured, dropping his eyes to the ground and bowing his head in a passable imitation of a cowed omega. His sandy-blonde hair, which he kept shoulder-length in a traditional omega style, was tied back from his face with a single strip of leather, though a few strands wiggled free to cover his face when he looked down. Garth stepped forward and grabbed Dean's hands, forcing them to his side and pulling his shoulders into a hunched position.

"Try to do it like that if Crowley scolds you," the older omega offered helpfully, patting his friend on the back. "Also, never look him in the eye."

Dean grunted something incredibly impolite, following meekly as his mother and adopted aunt led him into the shop they had been waiting in front of. Mary tapped Garth on the shoulder and pointed at the folding screen in the corner that was hiding the tub they had painstakingly filled with hot water earlier that morning. "Get him clean while we work on his clothes. Try to make him smell at least halfway like an omega."

"I gotcha, Auntie Mary!" Garth dragged Dean behind the ornate screen as he heard three more omegas, two men and one woman, enter the main room of the shop, presumably carrying the clothes, makeup, and perfumes for Dean's big day. Garth untied Dean's sash and pulled his top off, wrinkling his nose at the dark horsehair as he tossed it away. Dean slipped out of his shoes and pants, slipping into the huge tub and wincing at the temperature.

"It's freezing!"

"It would have been warm if you were here on time," Garth quipped, shoving the taller man into the water and dumping a bucket-full over his head, pulling his hair tie free and tossing it over his shoulder. Dean shivered and watched his fellow omega grab some floral scented soap and a cloth, raising one eyebrow until he took it and started to clean himself. Garth found a popular honey-scented shampoo and went to work on Dean's long hair, humming something to himself. He used a similarly scented conditioner, hoping that it would enhance the omega's natural apple blossom and cinnamon scent. As soon as he was happy with Dean's appearance and that any alpha scent from his father and brother were washed away, Garth helped him out of the tub and handed him a thick towel before leading him out from behind the folding screen.

The three other omegas pounced on Dean, handing him a pair of silky puffed pants, checking the ankles before tying the sash around his waist and tucking the loose ends away out of sight. The next layer was a split skirt that was open in the front and back but covered the outsides of his legs to just below his knees. The material was heavier and more beautiful, a dark burgundy color with heavy gold embroidery along the bottom edge. He held his arms out and patiently waited for them to slip a pale, translucent blue undershirt on, crossing the left side over the right and fastening it in place with two mother-of-pearl buttons and covering it with a dark pink over shirt trimmed in dark purple. He had time to admire the shimmering gold threads down the trim as this shirt, also, was crossed left over right and held in place with two tiny buttons. He hated this shade of pink, but he knew that it was the auspicious color for omegas this year and all of the males presented to the Matchmaker would be wearing the same outfit.

The female omega raised Dean's arms above his head and gestured for him to hold still, one male holding up the incredibly wide belt piece while the other wrapped a bright red sash around him to hold it in place. The top of the belt sat just over the bottom of his pectorals and the bottom reached the top of his thighs. He hated formal omega dress; alphas never had to wear so many ridiculous, colorful, and constricting layers and they didn't have to perform in groups like this. He felt Garth pinch his arm, scolding him for the sudden stiffness that indicated his rising anger. Today he had to behave like a meek little omega, so he forced himself to relax as he was allowed to lower his arms. The sleeves were huge, reaching just to his wrist but hanging much lower, another fashion he was less than fond of. He glanced down at the red sash holding his belt, not surprised to see fine gold embroidery in the cloth as his mother fasted a number of tiny charms into the fabric. Each one represented one of his father's accomplishments in the war or one of Mary's before she was mated to him. The more charms an omega could boast, the more marketable he was to a potential mate.

Mary helped him into a pair of gold-embroidered white slippers while one of the omegas began to brush white powder onto his face and line his eyes with black charcoal. Garth took it upon himself to brush out Dean's normally unruly hair, using a few strategically placed braids to contain the shorter strands as he twisted most of it in a knot on top of his head. Dean had spent most of his life outside, working on the farm with his father, and his skin was tanned to a similar shade. Omegas were meant to be gentle, docile, indoor creatures, so they were encouraged to wear white makeup in public to maintain this illusion. They smudged a dark powder over his eyes and clipped golden cuffs over the outside edges of his ears, settling a red crown-like hat on his light brown hair and using a trio of golden combs to hold it in place.

"It would be better if his hair was black," the taller of the two male omegas groused, twisting the hat in an attempt to position it better before pinning it to the twisted knot Garth had created. He slipped a trio of ornate hair sticks into the knot, fiddling with the charms that hung from the black lacquered wood. "Doesn't your husband have black hair?"

"Yes, but all of his sons are brunettes. His hair is the middle shade among them."

"It'll have to do. Crowley is known to prefer omegas with dark hair, but it's of no import." Dean started to stiffen in offense, Garth's sharp glare silencing his protest. The female omega sorted through a tray of perfumes, choosing one that smelled like cherry blossom, a very popular scent among fashionable families this year. Dean stood silently as she touched the tiny glass bulb to the hollow of his throat and the inside of each wrist, covering his own natural cinnamon and apple blossom scent and any alpha musk he may have picked up from his father or younger brother that the bath hadn't been able to remove. Even he knew that the Matchmaker would not tolerate an insult that great. Mary pointed at a string of jade beads on the table nearby, and Garth carefully slipped them over Dean's head, approving of the way the rich color made Dean's green eyes pop.

Finally ready for his presentation, Dean bowed his head and meekly followed Garth out of the dress shop. The slim omega would be presenting him, since he didn't have any omega family members to speak for him. Mary blew him a kiss and Ellen wished him luck, neither daring to touch him and ruin the subtle perfume that they had paid so much for. The women followed at a discrete distance, watching as another half-dozen omegas with their presenters joined Dean on the path to the Matchmaker's home.

Garth leaned close to Dean, the slim omega tall enough to whisper in his friend's ear. "Dean, I have a gift for you, a good luck charm that helped me when I had stand before the Matchmaker and ask permission to mate Bess." He surreptitiously passed a small wooden cage over to his friend, Dean's eyes widening at the tiny purple cricket inside.

"Garth, I can't carry a cricket into the Matchmaker's hut! This is crazy."

"Trust me, Dean! It'll help." He tucked the cage under the right outer skirt "leg", hooking it to the sash holding Dean's pants and grinning. "Crowley won't even see it."

They reached the Matchmaker's house exactly two hours after dawn, the seven omegas kneeling on the cobblestones in front of Crowley's porch, heads bowed and shoulders tucked forward in submission. Dean had heard that in some towns, more rural ones farther from the Emperor's city, the Matchmaker would make the omegas, male or female, kneel for hours in front of their house before finally emerging to hear their cases. Fergus Crowley was demanding and could be cruel, but he had never been that malicious.

Perfectly on time, the short, slightly stocky omega emerged from his house, glaring down his nose at the gathered men. Crowley silently examined the gathered omegas, dressed in his finest robes with plenty of gold and gems to flaunt his high position, running his fingers through his short beard as he considered the gathered men. He carried a board in one hand with a scroll pinned to it, containing the list of names and any relevant information about each omega. Dean didn't dare look up from his kneeling position, but he knew that there was very little good on there about him. He was a known troublemaker, an omega who spoke out of turn and got into more fights than most alphas, one who had been rejected for many private mating offers and had to be sent before the Matchmaker as a last resort. Most of the other omegas with him had not had any mating requests at all or were from poor families, and only the Matchmaker would be able to convince and alpha or beta to take them on as mates. Dean's father could afford a huge dowry, but it hadn't helped to fetch him a partner.

"Winchester." Crowley practically hissed the name, tapping on his board with his brush before making a mark by Dean's name. The omega stood slowly, careful not to wrinkle or tear his expensive clothes, and silently followed the Matchmaker into his hut, never letting his eyes rise above Crowley's knees. This man held an official position that ranked him among the alphas of the village, even though he was himself unmated, so looking him in the eye would be incredibly disrespectful.

"Winchester, I wondered when I would see you in here," Crowley oozed, taking a seat at the table in his main room and tapping his fingers on the lacquered surface. "You've not had much luck with the alphas in town, have you?"

Dean shook his head, knowing better than to speak up. When he concentrated very hard, he really could remember all of the omega Rules.

"Well, show me what you've got. If I'm going to market you in the nearby towns, I need to make sure that you are worthy of a mating."

Dean nodded and began to list his lessons in his mind, glancing at the ornate teapot on the table. Carefully gathering the ingredients, he mixed them into the boiling water and stirred it, carefully pouring a cup for Crowley before kneeling down on one of the pillows beside the table. He watched Crowley reach for the cup, eyes widening in horror as the purple cricket that had been safely in his cage jumped onto the rim and waved his tiny antenna toward the black-haired Matchmaker. Crowley had closed his eyes to sniff the tea and evaluate the mix, but he was going to notice the cricket at any moment.

"Um, excuse me . . ."

Crowley furrowed his eyebrows without opening his eyes, tightening his fingers on the porcelain cup. "I don't remember giving you permission to speak, omega."

"I'm sorry, I just . . . the tea, it's not ready . . ."

"It smells fine to me. Now be quiet like a good little omega."

Dean clenched his fists in frustration, reaching out carefully to pluck the tiny cricket off of the cup before Crowley could take a sip, but he misjudge the distance and his fingers brushed the Matchmaker's as he cupped the bug into his hand.

Crowley's eyes flew open and he slammed the cup onto the table, spilling tea everywhere as he shoved himself to his feet. "What the hell do you think you are doing? Is that a fucking cricket? Are you putting a bug into my tea?!"

"No, of course not!"

"Don't lie to me, pup! I see the damn thing in your hand."

"I wasn't putting it in your tea," Dean argued, stiffening his shoulders against Crowley's words. The purple cricket, wisely, returned to his cage and huddled in the corner, narrowly escaping the Matchmaker as he leaned across the table and grabbed at him. "I was catching it!"

"Now I see why no alpha will have you," Crowley growled, his dark brown eyes flashing with fury. Dean's instinctive reaction was to growl back, to get in Crowley's face and make the older omega back down, but he struggled to remember the correct omega response to this situation. Clearly, his indecision was visible, the Matchmaker reaching out to slap him across the face. "Don't you dare think about growling at me!"

It was too much to ask Dean to contain his reaction a second time, the white paint on his face concealing the red mark from Crowley's hand but doing nothing to dull the pain. He leaned forward and growled, narrowing his eyes as he snapped his teeth at the older man. Crowley stepped back in shock, his cheeks turning red under the faint while powder he wore. Dean realized his mistake, backing down instantly, but it was too late to placate the Matchmaker.

"Please, Sir, I'm sorry! I can do better, I can! I can behave . . ." Even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow. Dean didn't believe he could ever learn to be a proper omega, could ever learn not to speak out of turn or snap his teeth at peopl who disrespected him. And, clearly, Crowley didn't believe it either.

The Matchmaker grabbed his arm, jerking him toward the door of his hut, his clipboard and brush left behind on the table that was now covered in tea. "You stupid, arrogant, useless omega! Your father should have beaten some sense into you long ago, and now he's the only alpha who will ever have to put up with your insolence! You may look like an omega, but you will never bring your family honor!" Crowley threw Dean down the stairs as he yelled the last words, Garth moving to his friend's side in shock as Mary and Ellen watched, speechless, from the sidelines.

The Matchmaker sneered at the disgraced omega, glancing at the other gathered boys, none of whom had dared to move a muscle during the confrontation, before turning back to his hut and vanishing inside. He would clean up and fix his makeup before continuing with the omega tests, but Dean would never again be allowed to present himself as a potential mate.

Dean sobbed into Garth's shoulder, letting the omega and his mother pull him to his feet and lead him away. He couldn't see through his tears, couldn't do anything but repeat Crowley's words over and over again in his mind, head and shoulders slumped as he followed his family back to the shop. Crowley was right; he hadn't been able to keep from talking back or growling; he even snapped his teeth at the matchmaker, something omegas never did, even to each other. He had memorized the rules, but he responded incorrectly to every situation, acting like an alpha even though he had no right to do so.

Dean was vaguely aware of his mother and aunt helping him onto the horse, now wearing a pad cinched around his chest to prevent any transfer of horsehair to the omega's expensive clothes. Mary jumped up behind him, taking the reins and pointing Khan back toward her home. There was nothing else she could do; Dean was disgraced.

Dean didn't speak during the entire ride home, staring at Khan's neck as the big black stallion plodded slowly down the road. Mary shifted the reins to one hand and ran her other one down her eldest son's arm, but the omega didn't respond. She hoped that her mate would have more luck with the boy.

John was waiting for them when they reached the estate, his face falling as he took in Dean's slumped, dejected form. Mary dismounted the horse first, holding his reins as Dean slipped off and started heading for the house. "Do you need me to help you get out of those clothes?"

"No, Mom," Dean murmured, hands hidden in the folds of his huge sleeves as he continued on his path to the house, not even looking up at his father. "I'll take care of it myself."

John waited until Dean was out of earshot before taking Khan's reigns, leading the stallion back to his field with Mary by his side. "What happened?"

"Crowley provoked him and he broke. I warned you this would happen."

"Mary, don't." John ran a hand through his graying stubble, slipping the reigns off of his horse's head as Mary took the saddle pad and hung them in the barn nearby. "I know he's headstrong and talks back too much, but surely he wouldn't intentionally snap at Crowley. He knows the rules; he learned the lessons like he was supposed to."

Mary shrugged and glanced back toward the house. "Sometimes I think that I should have let Kate stay and train Dean. I know it's hard for an omega to be raised without some sort of guide. He wasn't ready for the Matchmaker today."

"It wouldn't have made a difference, Mary, and I know that having Kate around distressed you. Crowley has had it out for me ever since he inherited the Matchmaker title and I made it clear that I can find mates for my own children. I already have prospects for Sam and Adam when they come of age, but Dean is just a little more of a handful." He leaned against the huge tree near the shrine to their ancestors, pale eyes watching Dean emerge from the house at last and head toward the garden in the center of their estate. "Keep the other boys indoors for a while; I will speak with Dean."

John found his oldest son sitting on a bench overlooking the small pond in the center of the garden. Cherry blossoms bloomed overhead, and a small purple cricket sat on a branch nearby, chirping mournfully at the boy. Even with his long hair tied back and clad in his green and gray working outfit, Dean was lovely, a sad omega painted against the brilliant jewel tones of the exquisite garden. It still baffled the old alpha general that no one wanted his son and that the town's matchmaker had rejected him so soundly.

Dean sensed his father's presence almost immediately, looking up from his silent reflections and wiping the tears from his eyes. Dean's eyes were the bright, clear green color of imperial jade, a sharp contrast to the blues and hazels seen in the rest of his family. When the boy was born, John was already a decorated hero of the army, so the Emperor had gifted him a beautiful set of jade jewelry that John kept locked safely away in the omega's dowry box. He would wear the jewels on his mating day, and John was determined that his oldest son would have one.

"You know, I think today is the first time I have ever seen you in formal omega robes."

Dean snorted and turned away as his father joined him on the bench. "Yeah, probably the last time, too. Crowley will never accept my suit again." He stared at his tanned hands, at the rough calluses on his fingers from a lifetime of working the land, to his nails that were clean and neatly trimmed for possibly the first time in his life. "Crowley said you should have beaten me more."

"Dean!"

"He's not wrong, Dad! Have you ever seen an omega talk back like I do, growl at alphas, betas, and omegas no matter their rank, or snap his teeth at his betters? Dad, I'm a terrible omega, and I can't do anything right. I can cook, I can clean, and I can raise pups, but I'll never be proper enough for an alpha to want me. I can't even go outside without breaking a dozen rules!"

"Dean, Crowley isn't our last resort."

"We shouldn't need a last resort!" Dean turned furious emerald eyes toward his father, his cheeks flushed enough to make his freckles stand out. "Sam and Adam don't cause you any grief, but I can't even keep my mouth shut for five minutes in the Matchmaker's hut. No alpha in town will have me, and now no Matchmaker for ten miles will see me." He dropped his head, tears dripping on his hands as he struggled to control his voice. "I just want what Mom has; a safe home, a loving mate, and pups. I don't even know if you could sell me as a concubine after what Crowley said in town."

John sighed and wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder, pulling the resisting omega against his side. "I'm not going to sell you as a concubine, Dean. You'd never be happy."

"I would have an alpha," Dean argued, sniffing back his tears. "I would have pups."

"You would have no rights to them. You were there when I had to send Kate away; I was fond of her, and I thought she was good for you, but her presence caused your mother distress and I felt it through our bond. Adam stayed with us, and Kate went to the Imperial City. Do you want to live your life under the threat of being sent away if your alpha's mate grows tired of you? Do you want to risk never seeing your pups again?"

Dean shook his head. "No."

"I didn't think so. Dean, I know you're unhappy now, but don't devalue yourself so. You can and will be a perfect mate for someone, just not someone in this town."

"Or any other town between here and the mountains. You should have mated me away when I was younger, when I was fifteen and still scrawny enough to look like a proper omega."

"First off, you hadn't even presented then and you know the law against mating off unpresented pups. Second, any alpha who wanted you only because of your physical appearance at the age of fifteen would never make you happy. You don't want a master, you want an equal. It's not wrong to want that, Dean; I got that with your mother and I would never have been happy with some meek, obedient mate who never stood up to me or talked back. I love her, and we have been happy together for twenty-five wonderful years. I want that for you."

"Thank you," Dean whispered, "but I don't—"

"And third," John continued as if Dean hadn't spoken, "we still have all of the cities beyond the mountains to think of."

"What?"

John smiled and turned his gaze north toward those very snow-capped peaks towering solemnly over the lands. The Imperial City was nestled in the center of those protective peaks, with the land falling down to the sea on the other side. "You seem to forget that I am one of the most highly-decorated generals in the Emperor's army. If I ask to see him, he will accept my suit. I can ask his personal Matchmaker to find you a suitable mate, either among the nobles of the Imperial City or even the Emperor's own children. I know that you prefer alpha males, and the Emperor has fathered a good dozen of those, four with his mate and consort the Empress Naomi, the rest with his beloved concubines. Any of them would be suitable for you, if you don't mind moving to the Imperial City."

Dean looked up at his father in wonder, the tears clearing from his eyes. "You'd do that? You'd use your relationship with the Emperor to find me a mate?"

"A suitable mate," John clarified. "One who will be happy with a big, strong, outspoken male omega to be his equal. I think you'll find that people in the Imperial City aren't as insistent on what Crowley would term 'omega norms' as we are here."

"Thank you, Dad," Dean breathed. "That makes me feel a lot better about today."

"Think about the look on Crowley's face when you mate one of the Emperor's sons. He'll lose his mind."

Dean chuckled, the first sign of joy he had shown since he was forcibly removed from the dark-haired Matchmaker's hut. "He'll be furious at you. He'll have to think about finding a new profession if you can do his job better than he can."

John grinned and squeezed his son's shoulder. "That omega needs to get laid. Seriously." Dean nodded in agreement, wiping the last of his tears away. "Are you ready to go inside and help your mother with lunch?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks, Dad."

"Hey, Dean?"

The omega looked up from the walkway he was sweeping, smiling at Jo as the alpha nervously approached him. "Hey, Jo; didn't expect to see you here today."

"I'm sorry about what happened at the Matchmaker's." Clearly the blonde alpha had come on a mission, so Dean leaned his broom up against the house and brushed his shirt off.

"It's alright, Jo. I was devastated, but my dad has a plan to help me find a mate."

"I'd do it, you know. I'd gladly mate you if it meant that you wouldn't be pawned off on some old creeper or sold as a concubine."

Dean smiled and reached out to hug his friend, feeling her tension slowly ebb away. Typically, alphas and omegas would never touch in public unless they were related, but he considered Jo more like a sister than anything else. "We would never be happy together, Jo. You're as much part of my family as Sam or Adam, and I don't think you could ever see me as anything other than an annoying older brother. Dad's not going to mate me to some geezer and he won't sell me as a concubine." He neglected to mention that he had asked John to do just that at the depths of his despair. "We're going to the Imperial City to speak with some of his old contacts from the war. He has high hopes."

"That's great!" Jo patted the omega on his back, all of her previous sorrow gone. "You should have no trouble finding a good alpha there. A male alpha, which I know is your preference."

Dean grinned and dripped his head. "Yeah, it is. Even though omegas aren't supposed to have preferences."

"Yeah, well, your dad loves you enough to want you to be happy, truly happy, with your mate. You're lucky to have him."

"I really am." Before he could say anything else, the omega tensed as the village drums began to sound. Glancing up at the watchtower to the north, he could see the two big alphas pounding on the stretched skin, counting the beats as he recognized the pattern that meant Messenger from the Imperial City. Intrigued, he dropped his broom and headed out of the front gate of his father's estate, Jo on his heels.

The shop where Dean had prepared for his meeting with the Matchmaker was on the other side of town, but thankfully the Lord's house and town meeting hall were much closer. The two reached it in a matter of minutes, joining the crowd gathered loosely around a tall, aristocratic snow-white gelding carrying a diminutive, graying, slightly overweight Imperial functionary. Dean grinned at the way the horse pranced, ignoring his rider's demands to still and stand quietly while the old man spoke with Lord Daniel.

Dean and Jo spotted Ellen and Bobby standing near the lord, their noble blood giving them the right to be involved in the conversation. His own father joined the pair a few moments later, still walking stiffly from an injury he gained in the war that never healed correctly. Sam, Adam, and Mary joined Dean, Jo heading for her mother's side as Rufus Turner and Jody Mills slipped through the throng to stand with Mary. Rufus wasn't noble, and Jody preferred to ignore her tiny drop of noble blood that would have forced her to interact with the aging functionary.

"What's going on?"

Mary shrugged, checking to make sure that Dean was keeping a close eye on Adam before returning her attention to the commotion. "I think that's Metatron, the Emperor's scribe. I don't know what he would be doing so far from the mountains, without guards, especially since he hates riding horses."

"It must be important," Rufus pointed out. "He has a roll of scrolls in his saddlebag."

Mary sucked in a quick breath, icy shock freezing her in place. She remembered the last time a man from the Imperial City had come to her hometown with a bag of scrolls; her older alpha brother had been conscripted into the army, along with three of her cousins and John. Only her mate had ever returned.

The aging beta raised his hand for silence as Lord Daniel moved away. "There is no delicate way to put this, so I'll just say it. The Huns have invaded China!" The crowd gasped, some of parents pulling their younger and omega children close, as if to protect them from the harsh reality of war. Dean was grateful that his mother would never do something so demeaning to him, though he did feel Adam tuck his lean fifteen-year-old body into his side. Sam, his hazel eyes almost brown with fear, still managed to stand up to his full, six-foot-five height and puff out his chest in an alpha display of dominance. Many of the other alphas in the crowd were doing the same, even John standing up taller.

"What does the Emperor order, Metatron?" John stepped closer as he asked the question, the faintest thread of respect in his voice. He didn't like the old scribe, never had, but it took a great deal of courage for a beta to serve on the Council amongst alphas, and even more for him to travel so far on his own to bring this news.

"The army needs new conscripts. The Emperor orders that one alpha or beta from every family of at least three members will serve, and volunteers from smaller families will be rewarded with lands and titles when the threat is neutralized." Metatron reached into his saddlebag and pulled forth a collection of scrolls, each one stamped with a family crest. "The Fox family!"

Asa Fox, a middle-aged redheaded alpha with a mate and twin teenage pups, stepped forward, bowing his head as he accepted the scroll. "It will be an honor to serve the Emperor."

Metatron nodded. "Report to the Black Forest Camp at dawn." He pulled out the second scroll, glancing at the name before looking out into the crowd. "The Tempest Family!"

Malachi, an older alpha with three pups, stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane as he reached for the scroll. He had fought bravely in the last war, though not with John's unit, and had returned home only to lose his mate in labor with their youngest pup, Sophia. The young omega female clung to her beta brother's hand, Ezekiel sighing and glancing at the ground. The war would kill their father; he was too old and too broken to fight.

Azrael, their oldest brother, stepped forward, placing a hand on his father's arm. He was a tall, well-built alpha who wished to earn a good mate from the Matchmaker, and he had even once spoken with John about courting Dean. Nothing had come of it, of course, because he wanted a more submissive mate, but he was a good man. "I will serve the Emperor in my father's place."

Metatron grinned, showing his crooked teeth in something that was supposed to look like pride but came across as a half-assed threat display. Dean almost rolled his eyes as the beta handed over the scroll. "Black Forest camp for you, also."

"The Winchester Family!"

John bowed his head at the inevitability of the summons, glancing at Mary for only a moment before stepping forward. His blonde mate, tears in her eyes, gasped as their middle son ran forward, holding his hand out for the scroll and blocking the stockier alpha. "Dad, let me go. I'm old enough to fight."

"No!" Dean hadn't planned to speak, had tried really, really hard to play the part of the mute omega, but he couldn't watch his little brother run off to die. He dashed forward, pulling Sam back as the crowd began to murmur and growl at his audacity. "Sammy, you can't! You've only just barely presented; you're not old enough to fight."

Sam, his eyes flashing alpha red, jerked back from his brother's grasp, growling as Metatron sneered from the top of his horse. "Silence, omega!" The scribe turned to face John, sneering at the big alpha. "You would do well to teach your pup to hold his tongue in the presence of his betters. I would think you could teach him better manners, Winchester; an omega, arguing with an alpha in public?"

John growled low in his throat, glancing sideways at his oldest son without quite making eye contact. "Dean, you dishonor me."

Those simple words, more than his brother's flashing eyes, froze the tall omega, shame washing through him. It was all he did recently, dishonor his father and his family. Shaking, Dean closed his eyes and backed away, Adam pressed tightly against his back as Sam watched him, a touch of pity in his green-hazel eyes. John reached out to take the scroll, silently handing it to his alpha son as both of them bowed to the scribe. Since the Winchesters were nobles, Sam was assigned to a different camp, one closer to the Imperial City and one filled with the scions of other proud, noble lines. "Report at dawn to the Crystal Lake camp!"

Dean didn't pay attention to anything after that, staring at the ground as he stood beside his mother and held Adam close. Sam stayed with John, his status as the alpha son of a powerful town noble giving him the right to do what Dean could not. As soon as Metatron finished with his bag of scrolls, he opened the floor to volunteers, John turning away from the chaos to lead his family home. For the first time in his life, Dean walked in the proper position in the procession, behind his parents and alpha brother, in the back with the unpresented pup. All he could think as he watch his brother walk so tall and proud in front of him was that Sammy was going to war. His little brother, just barely presented, was going to die.