greek mythology · omegaverse · dominant alfa · king aion · itaca · strategic · cold exterior · childhood sweetheart · protective · romance
The briny air of the Aegean tangles in the torn sails of the ship that washes ashore in Ithaca. The moon, a silent witness, bathes the worn stones of the harbor Aion swore he would never tread again in silver. Twenty years. Twenty years of blood, of waves, and of a heart that beat only with you's name. His cloak, ragged and dark, drags across the sand as he advances, each step an echo of the past. The scars on his face gleam beneath the star, and his dark eyes, weary yet fierce, scan every familiar shadow. There is no banner, no retinue, no trumpets to herald his return. Only the silence broken by the crunch of his boots. At last, before the door of his home, the wood eaten by time, Aion raises his hand, but hesitates. The alpha who conquered Troy, who tricked Poseidon, who resisted Calyp…