One.

Coming of age day has always been something immensely important for each and every young Alpha in the Tribe. It is a day that they wait with baited breath. It is a day where they would be up before the sun peeks in, before the mothers make their ways to the well. It is a day where they would spend hunting for the very first time—real hunting, unlike the simulation in which they used stupid little rabbits and tiny rats that are way more difficult to aim, considering how they’re about thirty times smaller than a stag—and the evening would be spent with them showing off their skills, and, in some cases where their parents have dug and stored enough metal, gold, or even rubies, they would be presented with a row of beautiful Omegas they can choose from.

Tonight, it is Choi Minho’s turn. As the son of Choi Yungyeom, one of the highly respected gurus in the Tribe, it is customary that Minho is given a large celebration, and even a party, with flowing wine and food and dancing Omegas—male and female alike—before he will proceed to face Lee Jinki, his older cousin, who has been his father’s best student ever since he turned 21—for that is when his growth spurt ended and he stopped being so unfamiliar with the length of his own limbs and finally developed better control of them—in a battle of strength and wit.

Minho is taller and broader, but Jinki is steady and experienced. Although, it is needless to say that Minho’s determination is enough to make up for it. This is proven by how quickly he reacts to every single one of Jinki’s jabs—to his left, to his right, a hook to his rib, a quick smack to the side of his head, which in its full-power glory, would have been more than enough to make Minho’s ears bleed—and dodges at just the right distance so he’d have the chance to hit, too.

It is after a full couple of minutes that Minho is confident enough to aim a kick, to which Jinki raises an arm and instead catches Minho’s leg, pulling forward. Startled, Minho almost loses his balance, but he manages to grab Jinki’s shoulder and uses the chance to push Jinki backwards and gets his leg back. It isn’t a particularly graceful technique, but everyone—Jinki included—laughs and Minho thinks he could do worse.

Stepping forward to help Jinki get back on his feet, Minho flushes slightly at the blinding smile Jinki throws at him; proud and happy, as if Minho just invented a machine that could trim diamonds. “Hyung,” Minho protests lightly as Jinki raises a goblet his bride—Kim Kibum—pushes into his hand at the perfect moment, his voice louder than ever as he starts a chant of Choi Minho! Choi Minho! Choi Minho!

“Enjoy the night, Eyas,” Jonghyun says from when he is perched, next to his brother. He gulps down the content of his goblet—or what’s left of them—in one go, making red liquid trickle down the side of his lips and onto his neck. Several Omegas rush to clean him up, their touches delicate as Jonghyun smiles at them, raising his cup for one of them to fill. Minho shakes his head at him; Jonghyun has yet to choose a bride, though many of the Omegas obviously have their eyes on him. He keeps telling Minho to hurry up and get married, yet at the same time, continuously preaching that he isn’t going to tie himself with one person anytime soon, not when he can get many, many beautiful people at once, without any of them protesting about the presence of the others.

If Minho’s father had not insisted so much on him being a gentleman—years after years of drilling—he would probably be tempted to travel down that particular road.

(—which is starting to get very popular that many of the elders have taken to giving Jonghyun scathing side-eyes).

Still, Minho could not help but think, he would find no difficulty if that is a path he is willing to take, his mind supplies cheekily as his eyes rake over the Omegas, huddled together near the fire and eyeing him with shy smiles and gentle laughter. Minho nods at them with a smile, dropping his eyes when they begin to slyly pull their robes down to reveal their faces and covered chests. Fortunately, he is saved from any more shows of indecent proposal—however subtle—by his father clearing his throat pointedly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Choi Yungyeom stands up, towering over the hollering crowd. Beside him, Minho’s mother clinks a spoon against her goblet to capture the crowd’s attention. Eventually they all stop cheering and turn to Yungyeom, whose charisma shines even brighter with the pride running through his being and flooding through his gaze. “Many years have passed since the night of full moon when I first hear the cries of a precious infant. It was a night of joy and relief. It was a night when I first felt truly like a man. It was the birth of my son, Choi Minho.”

The crowd rises once again, and Minho would duck his head, except that Kibum has been warning him about being too modest and to be an arrogant bastard for one night, it is not hard, Jonghyun does it every day, so he in a breath and keeps his chin high, even as his face heats up under the attention. The Omegas continue to cheer loudly even as the rest of the crowd dies down; ignoring the looks their displeased parents shoot their way.

“The last 21 years was not always pleasant,” he sends a quick glance at Minho, who flushes as the crowd laughs. “But it was an adventure, and finally, we have reached a satisfying destination. My son—” Yungyeom lifts his golden goblet, punching the sky with the splatters of wine that spikes up from the jerk of his arm, “Has come of age!”

“And now!” his voice raises, taking over just before anyone has the chance to shout their cheers, “The gifts!”

An Omega huddled in a thick fur coat and a leather hood steps out of the clusters of Betas that were standing close to one another, perhaps to purposefully shield the figure from view. The Omegas legs are long and slim, and what could be seen of his profile is softened by the glow of the fire. With his arms hugging his own body, the Omega takes step by step closer to Yungyeom, until he is standing in front of him, head down, and he kneels.

Even without listening to the whispers going on around him, and the soft gasp from Kibum behind him, Minho has a clear idea of who it is, already. It is, without a doubt, Lee Taemin, the son of their Chief. No one has seen him around much, because it is taboo for the leader of a Tribe to have an Omega child; he had been hidden for years. Though, the tale of his beauty, however exaggerated, has spread across the lands, and it is to be expected that every single Alpha male around Minho’s age has expressed at least some degree of interested in him.

For the Chief to hand over his Omega son to Minho’s father, however, is a double-edged sword for the Choi clan. Is it supposed to be flattering, or rather, mocking? Is Taemin a gift, or a dump? Is this supposed to bring his family’s honor higher, or shove it down the mud?

“Lee Taemin,” his father’s voice drags Minho’s reluctant mind back to the present, and he steals a glance at the Chief, whose gaze is unreadable as he studies the scene before him. Yungyeom pushes Taemin’s hood off, emitting a collective gasps from all around them. Minho’s jaw unhinges, not really caring about how he’s supposed to be decent—not that anyone cares, at the moment, really, considering how they’re all too busy staring at Taemin—because the sight before him right now simply could not be… real.

All those tales he heard is true, apparently, because there Lee Taemin is, looking pale and beautiful under the illuminating moonlight. His eyes are big and dark, his cheeks tinted red with cold, his lips lightly swiped with the red juices, and his skin entirely flawless. As Taemin takes off the coat and stands, Minho’s wit leaves him altogether.

“Your father, our Chief, has gifted you to my family. You are now one of our own. The terms of marriage, however, is entirely in my son, Minho’s, hand. Do you accept this?” there’s a heart-stopping second when Taemin turns to look back at his father, eyes pleading and mouth thinning and Minho’s jaw clenches. Then, Taemin turns back to Yungyeom and nods; it is reluctant and almost dazed, but a nod nonetheless, and he takes step by steady step towards Minho.

As he takes Minho’s hand and smears black paint under both of Minho’s eyes, his hands are shaking, and Minho wonders if he feels guilty. He wonders if he knows that his hesitation is a humiliation for Minho. Seconds pass with Minho feeling overly conscious of the smooth skin against his, and he is about to voice out his question when Taemin looks up to him, eyes folded into crescents and lips curled to a small smile, and the questions die down in his throat.

The smaller hands grip Minho’s as the crowd cheers once again, loud and boisterous and Taemin winces slightly, his laugh startled and genuine and contradictive thoughts are swirling in Minho’s head. He should ask Jinki later, if this is how one is supposed to feel when they are faced with one’s betrothed.

*

The wedding is held two nights after. Minho thinks it is a bit rushed, though he cannot deny that he is rather impressed by the celebration. They are having it, as expected, at the Sacred Lands, where there is a source of water that has been the backbone of their Tribe’s lives for centuries. The place is normally only opened once a year, yet the Chief seemed to have made an exception. Minho thinks it is a little prosperous.

“That is just how father is,” Taemin tells him when Minho voices this concern, “He always gives the best for me, even though everyone keeps telling him that I will give not