Males don’t typically go into heat—that’s, like, the first thing I learned when I found out about sex... and honestly, it’s probably the only thing I know about sex. We don’t really talk about that kind of thing.
Anyway, this begs the question: why do I, a twenty-two-year-old male shifter, feel like I’m going to throw up blood and rip off my own skin because my insides feel like they’ve caught fire?
Fuck if I know.
I’d love to bla it on sothing I ate, but this is way worse than indigestion—I’m feeling and... wanting things I’ve never even thought about in my entire life. I’m basically having all of the symptoms of a heat, but there’s no way that’s possible.
The only logical conclusion is that I’m dying.
Best part? I’m in public—and not just a trip down the street to the apothecary for herbs.
No, I’m at an inter-tribe festival where beasts of all shapes and sizes, from clans near and far, have gathered to mingle together. This thing happens once every two years! The gods-damned Grand Festival is the stage for my disaster.
I wrap myself in an uncomfortable hug and glance around. I feel like everyone is looking at ... so many different eyes are burning into my already warm skin. People from all the different beast tribes, serpents, wolves, lions, avians... stares of every kind have found in the crowd.
How unlucky can I possibly be?
A pair of inquisitive feline eyes is staring at like I’m his prey. A shudder runs down my spine, and another wave of heat pulses through my body.
"Sothing’s really wrong, Dad," I whisper awkwardly. "I don’t... um, I think— I think I might be dying."
...It’s now that I notice I have no idea where my dad even went. While I was distracted, he must have left alone to get sothing.
My eyes widen in fear when I realize I’m alone. If he were here, I’d feel safe—because despite all the curious looks, no one would approach. No one dares to encroach on a dragon’s personal space, let alone his cub’s. Ah, and ’cub’ is a funny word to use when I’m his adult son, but that’s just how everyone refers to . Since I can’t shift into a dragon on my own, yet, I’m stuck as a dragon’s kid instead of being a ’real’ one.
...Alone, I’m nothing. I’m vulnerable. Which ans I’m in deep shit.
I make a frantic sweep over the area, searching for any sign of him—or, at this point, anyone I recognize... but there’s not a single familiar face. I’m going to die alone in front of a bunch of strangers.
Great.
A sudden wave of nausea washes over , and my knees give way.
Just as I’m about to collapse onto the ground, an unfamiliar scent overwhelms . Strong arms grab from the side, and a comforting numbness washes over my body.
"Emberkin, you shouldn’t be here."
The voice is a low growl, but it isn’t scary—it holds a gentleness that makes my heart race.
Emberkin... this man is a dragon, too? I haven’t t one besides my dad. From what he told , the others hardly leave the mountains. He and I are so of the very few that live amongst the other beasts.
I look up to put a face to the voice, and although my vision is bleary, I can make out his features clearly.
Strong, defined cheekbones caress a sculpted nose and pointed, phoenix-like brows. Narrow but protective eyes are looking down at , the irises a brilliant shade of violet.
His hair is like silk, long and divine, flowing down his back in a wine-red waterfall, so of it falling into his face.
Yeah, now that I look at him, he could only be a dragon. Nothing else would make sense—his ethereal beauty surpasses anything I’ve ever seen.
"You can’t be here," he whispers, correcting his first statent. His breath slls like cinnamon and oranges. The handso stranger asks , "Can I take you away?"
I nod—and I’m sure I look absolutely pitiful. How pathetic must I be that a reclusive dragon has to co and save from myself?!
"Mn," he nods, bending down slightly to scoop his other arm beneath my knees. Before I know it, I’m being held like a child and whisked away from the event by a handso stranger.
I’m in and out of consciousness, so I have no idea how long it takes for us to arrive—but when I feel myself being placed down gently, I take a good look around. It’s an abandoned shrine of so kind, from what it looks like. There’s no trace of a deity’s idol or sculpture inside, so it must be unused.
"You might feel better if you undress," he suggests, then his eyes widen slightly, as if he realized sothing. He adds quickly, "I will look away, of course."
I raise a curious brow, "Why would it matter? We’re both guys."
I don’t undress in front of others; it’s just a habit from when I was young. Dad always told that it was uncouth for dragons to present themselves naked to others because they aren’t ant to be looked upon by lesser beasts.
But... there shouldn’t be a problem in this case, right? We’re both n and emberkin.
The man blinks a few tis at —hard. He searches my face for a few long monts before he smiles and lets out a soft chuckle. "You... you are very much not a guy," he says in a comforting tone, despite his obvious amusent.
"I’m... Of-of course I am!" I stutter. What the hell is he saying to ?! I’ve been a dude for two decades; nothing has changed. "I’m not a woman."
He hums in understanding, "Alright."
I go quiet. Shouldn’t he argue a bit more? He seems so convinced...
...
It doesn’t make any sense. I have a beast’s core, and the very few won in beast tribes are latent—practically human. They don’t present any of their beast qualities the way I do, and all of the full-power beastwon died two centuries ago when the Beast Empress died.
I’m... I’m not really a woman, right?
"Regardless, you should still undress so your body doesn’t overheat," he says after a mont of pause. "Our bodies are sensitive to changes in temperature, especially during... tis of duress."
If I weren’t so desperate for my body to relax, I would question him further, but I decide not to. I’m too uncomfortable and it feels like my blood is boiling. I nod and start taking off my tunic, shrugging it over my shoulders and tossing it onto the floor beside .
Soon, I’m in nothing but my chest wraps and underwear. I lean against the cool stone wall and sigh—it isn’t much, but there’s the slightest relief.
"Are you injured?" He asks.
I frown, narrowing my eyes at him in my feverish haze, "I’m literally dying."
"You aren’t dying, I promise," he replies. "Besides, I ant the bandages on your chest."
...Why do I wear these?
I asked dad a few tis when I was a teenager, but I haven’t bothered since. He just told it was sothing I needed to do when I went out, and not to worry about it.
It never made much of a difference to before.
"I’m..." I struggle to co up with an excuse and decide to just give up. "I don’t know why I wear them."
"I understand," he says in that quiet, patient tone. "There are a lot of confusing things happening at once, and I’m sure you’re overwheld, but we should take care of your condition."
"Why... why are you even helping ? Who are you, anyway?" I can’t help but ask, but my question is squeezing out between each of my labored breaths.
"Call Ren," he tells , "and... I’m helping because I care."
"...That’s all? You... you went as far as taking far away f-from the festival for the sake of letting rest just because you care about a stranger?" I can’t help but frown. Dragons aren’t exactly well-known for their generosity and kindness.
Ren looks at with a complicated expression. It looks like there are a lot of things going on in his head, and he’s struggling to decide what to say. In the end, he says, "I feel responsible."
"Responsible? Like, you did this to ?" I echo incredulously. "Yeah, right."
"I don’t know what your father has told you, because it seems like he has hidden a lot," he starts, "but... do you know how our people mate?"
"All I know is that us dragonkin mate for life," I answer honestly. "If you an specifics about rituals... Well, not really. Dad never told about dragons, and the tribes don’t really teach much, at least—not the bears, which is where I grew up. I did read an old book once that explained heat cycles briefly, but it wasn’t anything useful since we’re 90% n, and the living beastwon are latent and don’t experience them."
Ren listens to intently, his piercing violet eyes never leaving mine. His stance is protective, and he has positioned himself between and the door—conscious or not, I’m not sure. He hums in understanding, "I see. Daeleon has severely neglected your education."
I bristle. "How do you know my dad’s na?"
"Everyone knows your dad’s na," he shrugs. "Besides, you’re the only emberkin alive that’s younger than , and Daeleon’s the only sire to have a single, half-human cub."
Tears well in my eyes when another wave of boiling heat surges through my body, and a whine leaves my lips before I can stop it. I’m in so much pain, I can’t stand it, and I end up cursing under my breath, "Fuck!"
Ren takes a few steps toward , but is vigilant in not invading my personal space. His hand hovers near my arm, trembling—like he’s fighting every instinct telling him to grab . He has furrowed brows and an almost pained expression on his face, but his voice remains tempered as he asks, "Is it okay if I help you?"
I nod vigorously through the pain. I’d do anything to make this stop, I don’t care what it is.
Despite my affirmation, he’s hesitant. "It’s going to feel really strange. If you don’t like sothing, please tell ."
"I don’t give a shit, just help !" I hiss through gritted teeth, my legs trembling.
Ren doesn’t say anything more, and his reservations disappear. He closes the distance between us and pulls into his arms, resting my head against his chest. The mont I’m pressed against his body, a wave of calm seeps into my bones. Everything still hurts, but I suddenly feel safe—protected.
"Excuse ," he apologizes quietly. He reaches behind my back with one of his hands and starts to loosen my binding bandages—and the mont the fabric slackens, heat explodes throughout my entire body.
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