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The papers were passed around the Military board members, each set handed off in tense silence. The room’s air had cooled quickly as the sun dipped below the horizon, making Levi’s coat, almost too heavy to bear earlier, feel suddenly necessary. The chill seeped through the old walls, hinting that a bit of heating might soon be in order.

With methodical precision, Levi slammed the stack of reports against the wooden table to align them perfectly, every edge sharp and in place. He moved aside the sticky notes he’d scribbled on hours before, crossing off the last item on his to-do list with finality. Job done for the day—

“Well, that’s it,” he muttered, eager to leave the stale room behind.

A pointed clearing of someone’s throat halted him, making him glance up slowly. Levi’s senses flared; he wasn’t done after all. The tension thickened, and the air shifted to something more ominous. His gaze travelled around the table, landing on each board member’s face. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, as if they’d been anticipating this moment. Hange, seated beside him despite their role as Commander now, avoided his eye, their head lowered in apparent resignation. Recent meetings had seen the appearance of new, vaguely unsettling faces, like Kiyomi's, who now looked across the table with a subtle smile.

“Captain,” Zackly’s voice rasped as he cleared his throat yet again.

“The day’s agenda is finished,” Levi stated, irritation biting at his words. The official telegram had detailed the topics to be discussed, all of which they’d already addressed. Anything beyond that, he knew, was meant to be cleared with the entire board beforehand.

“This was a last-minute matter,” a Military Police officer interjected, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed more amusement than urgency.

“Captain,” Zackly called again, knitting his fingers together. “You know we’ve always valued your dedication to Paradis.”

The pause was rehearsed, the words strangely formal, making Levi’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on?” cutting through the man’s attempt at civility.

“Let the Commander finish,” Kiyomi insisted, her voice smooth and elegant, though tinged with a superiority that grated on him.

“We wouldn’t have managed to retake Wall Maria without your bravery—”

“A lot of people sacrificed themselves for that,” Levi replied sharply, cutting off the praise that felt, at best, patronizing. “Including the previous Commander, Erwin. No need to thank me.”

“Nevertheless,” Zackly forged on, tiring of the interruptions, “without your skill, all those sacrifices might have been in vain. Not only did you dare to fight for Eren’s retrieval from the Female Titan and against the former tyrannical regime, but—”

“It wasn’t just me. My squad and the brat over there were in it too.”

The tone of the conversation was growing increasingly uneasy, the excessive praise no longer just annoying him but setting off alarms.

“Quite right. You and Mikasa were essential in humanity’s progress,” Kiyomi added, eyeing Levi with a calculating gaze. As her look shifted back to Zackly, Levi’s own attention followed.

“What we mean to say is… even if Paradis positions itself favourably in the new world, more capable individuals like you and Mikasa would be ideal assets for our success.” Zackly straightened in his chair, clearing his throat for the third time, making Levi wonder if the man needed water—or to finally give up smoking like a chimney. “Have you ever considered marriage, Captain?”

The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was so absurd Levi could only scoff. “What?”

“How old are you now?” Zackly continued, feigning casual curiosity. “Thirty-three? Thirty-four? A prime age, I’m sure. And for a high-breed alpha like you—”

Behind him, low chuckles began to echo from the MPs, each one making Levi’s grip on the chair’s arm tighten.

‘This is a trap.’

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I I suggest you rethink it,” Levi spat, the weight of their words starting to settle.

“Let’s be frank,” Kiyomi leaned forward, hands placed firmly on the table. “Captain, we once thought the Ackermans extinct, only to discover Paradis has not one but two. Even Zeke couldn’t deny that meeting you at Shiganshina was... less than pleasant.”

“Of course,” Levi replied dryly. “I beat that monkey’s ass.”

“Exactly.” The dark-haired woman showed no amusement, her voice all business. “To the point, then: we intend to provide you with a suitable wife to ensure that you bless this island with as many Ackermans as she’s capable of bearing.”

Levi shot to his feet. “You must be out of your damned mind if you think I’d agree to this. I’m not here to be used as a breeding tool.”

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the birthing,” an MP remarked with a smirk as the rest of the board broke their facades, amusement flashing in their eyes. All but Hange, who looked as if they might vanish into their seat.

“You’re insane,” Levi snarled, preparing to leave, feeling insulted to his core. “You can use Historia as your political pawn as much as you want, but I’m not some 17-year-old girl at your disposal—”

“Think of it as a service to your country,” Zackly replied coolly.

“I serve this island every damned day,” Levi snapped, baring his teeth. With a sharp slap, he pressed his papers against the table and strode toward the door, signaling his utter rejection of the idea.

“If you won’t consider it…” Kiyomi's calm, piercing voice halted him at the door, the threat clear. “Then we’ll turn to the only other Ackerman left.”

Levi stilled, staring at the golden knob in his hand, fury boiling in his veins. He wasn’t about to fall for this.

“Mikasa is too valuable to be reduced to a broodmare.”

“She’s a girl of duty,” Kiyomi replied, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Something you seem to lack. And she’s an alpha. I’m certain she could bear at least one healthy child before returning to the battlefield.”

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing open the door with disdain. ‘

Who the hell do they think I am?’

Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he stormed down the royal city’s military headquarters hallways, curses slipping from his lips. The whole idea was absurd; they’d lost their minds if they thought he’d even consider it.

As Levi stormed down the dim corridor, every step sharp and swift, he couldn’t shake the rancor rising within him. The brazenness of it all, to drag him into their twisted ambitions with such flippant disregard for his will—and then to threaten Mikasa. The audacity alone made his fists clench.

He barely noticed Hange keeping pace with him until their arm was outstretched, catching him by the shoulder.

“Levi,” Hange began softly. Their usual spark was subdued, gaze serious, and voice almost apologetic. “I know you’re furious. I knew this would be hell to hear, but I didn’t know how else to—”

“Save it.” Levi shrugged their hand off, glowering. “You knew, didn’t you? That they were going to bring this shit up?”

Hange hissed, as if asking them to confessed was almost painful. “Yes… I knew.”

Levi gritted his teeth, eyes dark with betrayal. “You agreed to this?” Both of them whispering on the empty cold halls of the building.

“I… didn’t agree,” Hange answered carefully. “But I was there when the discussion happened. Look, Zackly and the others—” Hange hesitated, running a hand through their hair. “They’re dead set on this idea. They think they’re planning for a stronger Paradis, and if they think that means Ackerman bloodlines—”

“Save the speech.” Levi’s tone was sharp. “They can be dead set on whatever they please, but I'd like to see them drag the entire MP battalion if they want to force me into this.”

The past year had hardly been easy on either of them, especially Hange with their new title as Commander. Levi was well aware of this—yet the sense of betrayal cut deep. “For fuck’s sake, Hange, you could’ve warned me.”

A tense silence hung between them, until Hange finally sighed and adjusted their glasses, pressing on the bridge of their nose. “You think I had a say in this? Kiyomi's paying for the entire coastal expansion and the railway. She thought it was a decent idea, and with her money backing it, she’s got the final word on everything.”

Levi clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Those bastards in the upper ranks are just itching to get on my last nerve since we changed the policies.”

“Look, I know it sounds—insane. But maybe… if we don’t try to protect the future of the island, there won’t be one. And if there’s a way to keep the Ackerman bloodline alive, maybe there’s value in that…”

“Don’t give me that bloodline nonsense.” Levi’s tone was ice-cold, his gaze sharp. “This is some harebrained scheme they’ve cooked up. And let me guess: it reeks of Zeke. That bearded bastard’s across the ocean, and he’s still screwing with my life.”

Hange pressed their lips together, saying nothing. The silence was confirmation enough.

“That son of a bitch,” Levi cursed under his breath. “He’s the one with royal blood, not me.”

Hange’s lips twitched in something close to sympathy.

“Well, since you two are such good friends these days, feel free to let him know he can kiss my ass.”

“Levi…” Hange sighed, not because they disagreed but because Levi’s sense of betrayal cut both ways. They were the last two left of the original veterans—family in all but name. It wasn’t just an argument; it felt like a wound between them.

Convincing Levi? Impossible. But convincing her? That possibility hung in the air, lingering like a storm on the horizon. Levi paced with conviction at first, then with dread. They both knew it, and, worse, Zeke likely knew it too. Mikasa had just turned seventeen, still almost a child, recently visited by someone claiming kinship with her clan. Levi couldn’t care less about all the ancestral politics, but he was all too aware of how they worked.

“You can choose whoever you wish for the father,” they had told her, as if it was some generous offer. And, step by step, he watched Mikasa’s face transform from disgust to something akin to acceptance. Perhaps it was because she, too, held a certain pedigree; perhaps she felt duty-bound. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care what methods they used to sway her.

‘She’s smarter than that,’

he tried to tell himself.

But then he overheard Historia, almost childishly enthusiastic, whispering to Mikasa, “See? I told you—we’re girls with responsibilities.” The blood drained from his face. If they’d managed to convince Historia, to make her some kind of pawn in their twisted ambitions, what was stopping them from pulling Mikasa down the same path?

‘It’s disgusting,’

he thought bitterly.

‘Maybe this is how those classist bastards operate. They talk little girls into this like they’re just trading dolls for something more ‘exciting.’’

That night, back in his office, Levi was a restless storm, pacing the room with his suit jacket hanging loose, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey, his movements sharp and frustrated. The glow of his cigarette flared in the dark room as he took a deep drag, gritting his teeth.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Slouched in his chair, forearm draped over his eyes, his mind circled back to Mikasa’s hesitant, almost innocent blush—her teenage imagination painting a faint, rosy tint over whatever twisted future she thought she might face. And in his mind, as if staring him down, were Eren’s haunted eyes, that deadened look of someone who already knew more than he could say. Maybe the brat already knew Levi wouldn’t let it happen.

“She’s a damn kid,” he muttered. The thought of Mikasa shouldering this burden felt like a betrayal of his own values.

Though technically, she was not much younger than many girls who’d borne children before. But this felt different, disturbing— He let out a humourless chuckle, as a man that waits for getting hang. “Those bastards knew… I wouldn’t let them ruin her life like that.”

And like a cursed prophecy that tightened its grip the more one tried to escape it, Levi found himself back in that same damned office, slouched in his chair as if seated at a poker table. Bargaining his future.

Levi sat stiffly across from the military board, his expression a blend of frustration and disgust as they spoke. Zackly lounged in his chair, lazily smoking as the other officials presented folders adorned with detailed painted portraits, lists of family properties, and who knows what else. As they laid the offers on the table, a random thought clouded Levi’s mind: It feels like searching for a button that matches at the notions store.

He was reminded of long strips of fabric with various buttons sewn onto them, each one a potential fit. “Many of the noble families are eager to show their loyalty to the new government,” one officer stated with a practiced calmness. “Some have offered up alliances in exchange for the return of their territories and titles. This includes a number of unclaimed young omegas. You’ll have ample choices.”

Levi’s jaw clenched. He knew they expected him to appear grateful for the options lined up before him, as if he were selecting a new weapon. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ll be imposing some conditions.”

They paused, exchanging glances. “Naturally, Captain,” one of the men replied, steepling his fingers.

“No fancy bullshit,” Levi declared. “The wedding will be plain. Just a civil ceremony. I have no intention of making a spectacle out of this.”

The room fell silent, the officers exchanging looks that spoke volumes. One of them cleared his throat, hesitating before responding. “Captain, you should consider—”

“I’m not considering anything,” Levi interrupted, his tone sharper than before. “This is a plain arrangement, and it will remain exactly that. I don’t need fanfare or ceremonies—just a quiet signing of papers.”

The officers shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort palpable as they struggled to reconcile Levi’s cold practicality with their expectations. “Think of the girl. Many young omegas dream of their wedding day, waiting for it their whole lives. It’s—” a female alpha soldier attempted to be the voice of reason, but Levi was clearly listening to none of it.

“No buts,” Levi said, his patience wearing thin. “If I’m going to go through with this ridiculous arrangement, it will be on my terms. I’m not dragging this girl through some overblown ceremony when neither of us wants to be there.”

With a loud sigh, Levi lifted himself slightly from his seat to grab the portfolios. He barely looked at them, frowning deeply. “Don’t you have pictures where they look— I don’t know—human?” he spat out sarcastically, noting how overly produced their painted portraits appeared.

“That’s what’s in fashion,” one officer muttered defensively.

Groaning in disinterest, Levi rolled his eyes. “Nobles and their weird tastes.” But as he turned the next page to examine the descriptions, it was as if the world had tilted off its axis. “Sixteen,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. He looked up, venom lacing his words. “You’re offering me sixteen-year-old girls? Girls who could be my damn daughters?”

“It’s common, you know—”

“I don’t care what’s common. Twenty-five,” Levi interjected. “At least twenty-five. I’m not getting tied to a child.”

“Come on,” an exhausted soldier exclaimed, “some are seventeen, eighteen—”

“Twenty-five,” Levi snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’m not interested in any of this unless you bring me someone who isn’t still in their childhood.”

“Be realistic,” Zackly finally spoke up, looking weary and disinterested. “How many omegas do you know that aren’t claimed by twenty-five?”

“Fuck if I know; that’s your job to find out, not mine.” Levi’s anger flared, echoing in the sterile room. “Weren’t you the one telling me to think of the girl? Don’t you think of her?”

“Why? Are you planning on hurting her?” Zackly questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck no.”

“Then I’m not concerned. Choose one and stop being a pain in the ass.”

It was clear they were not going to reach any middle ground like this. Amid the hastily scribbled notes, he noticed a name: Y/N, age twenty-one. He pointed decisively at the line, cutting through the cacophony of voices. “That one.”

There was no picture, no description—nothing. Perhaps it should have raised suspicions, but Levi was too tired for this cheap drama.

“Why her?” one member scoffed, glancing at the paper. “We have better offers on the table.”

Levi didn’t hesitate. “She’s the oldest.” He placed both hands on the table, pushing himself upward. He had made up his mind the night before; he just needed this to be over. Striding toward the door, he exited without allowing anyone to stop him. As he walked out of the conference room, he could hear the murmurs behind him.

As the door shut firmly, one of the cadets held the papers against his chest, confusion written all over his face. Slowly, he turned to the higher-ranking officer. “Shouldn’t we tell him that she’s scheduled to marry this weekend to her childhood fiancé?”

Zackly chuckled, flicking the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. Between coughs, he said, “Oh well, he can find out from her once they’re both married. It’s no longer my problem.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

In my mind, betas behave like normal human beings. Women have their periods once per month, have fertile days each month, and a cycle of 28 days. Men, the same. They lack scent characteristics; they don't have scent glands; they can't knot, etc. Betas do not present, so when the time of presenting comes, they don't suffer what I consider a "second puberty." Now, Alphas and Omegas. For me, presentation is like a "second puberty." It usually comes "later," around 15-18 years old, and it determines if they are going to be alphas, omegas, or betas. The lack of this "second puberty" is basically being a beta. Usually, "high breeds" or "pure breeds," either Alphas or Omegas, show clear signs of their nature even before presentation. Perhaps high breed alphas would hiss, have slightly bigger fangs, or even be bigger in size compared to little kids because their genetics are already strong, as an example. The second puberty basically makes Alphas present, grown fangs (if I'm allowed to go full delulu and magical here) that are sort of "retractile," usually only to be on full size during "asserting dominance" or "during mating." They start to liberate and perceive the smells and pheromones, etc. Omegas go through the same. Usually, the signs are there before their first "rut" or "heat." I like to think that alphas get a sort of toothache when their fangs are growing. I do believe that until reaching adulthood, Omegas and Alphas have ruts or heats in the respective seasons no matter what because it's also their body needing them to develop. Now, great, what are "seasons"? Basically, Alphas and Omegas only reproduce twice a year, early autumn and early spring. I believe their system is made to "maximize" and "optimize" reproduction, so they prefer "quality" over "quantity." During "season," alphas would go into rut first, before omegas, mostly to secure the territory they want to claim and "show off their capabilities," so omegas can choose before going into heat. The process of mating may last from 4 days to 14. It depends on the quality of the couple. During the mating ritual, alphas may show their strength, capabilities, and even give gifts of food and decorations to the omega they are fancying to demonstrate their willingness to mate. They may "build" a place where the omega can nest, and both mate. They mate for life, so usually alphas put a lot of effort, and omegas are very picky, lol. I like to think of it like when penguins spend a lot of time choosing the best pebble to give to their partner, and they start to build a nest with that pebble. What is nesting? Basically, omegas surround themselves with soft pillows, blankets, etc., usually with the smell of their alpha to keep them protected. Like if another alpha steps in and they sense the smell of the omega's alpha around the nest, they may back up because they don't want to compete, or the other alpha is more powerful. Now, all this is "in nature"; obviously, in society, you don't go fighting people in the streets for your mating rights, lmao. In the "modern society of AOT" (yes, I'm being sarcastic), usually, there are only "glimpses" of what used to be their nature. Alphas are territorial and can easily grow possessive, but it's also encouraged that they learn "to control themselves." Going around baring teeth for whatever would only make you look like some children who can't control themselves. Save them for important occasions. Show how much "better" you are by asserting dominance without having to resort to behaving like a dog. Fun fact: that's why Hange says in "not in season?" that they had never seen Levi's fangs. In my mind, high-breeds or pure breed FULL GROWN UP alphas and omegas don't go into rut or heat if they spend long periods without the constant presence of the other. So, they don't waste all the "biologically expensive work" that's for them to go into rut or heat. That's why the military doesn't allow omegas, since they are all going to be living in the barracks, it's better to avoid the problems. As I say, while in development, young alphas and omegas may experience ruts or heats regularly on their seasons. Young alphas may create a sense of paternity in older alphas, instead of creating a "territorial" sensation. Older alphas may get a sort of baby fever and feel the necessity to be the one leading the pack. This is something that Levi felt about his squad, especially since Eren presented while Levi was looking after him in the former HQ. While alphas always take positions of power, leadership, or works that demand high physical strength. Sadly, the AOT world isn't exempt from sexism, and omegas are usually reduced to "caring" jobs only. Such as teachers, nannies, bakers, mostly housewives. I do like to believe they are extremely talented for works that require long periods of attention and high attention to details, for example, in a war: snipers. But society has a hard time accepting that. Now, about high breeds, low breeds. Basically, high breeds mean they are either "purely alphas" or "purely omegas." To explain it with an example, a beta may bear the child of an alpha, but they wouldn't be "pure breed" any longer; they may be "regular alphas," and the more alphas or omegas mix with betas, the less "strong" their blood is. And vice versa, obviously. Conservatives believe that's "wasting your blood, etc.," they are a pain in the ass. I do want to highlight that "purest the alpha/omega," the more all their characteristics are boosted. Betas and alphas or betas and omegas may have kids, but it's not that effective. Alphas and alphas CAN have kids if they are "a woman and a man," the process of dominating another alpha is called "bitching," and they have ONLY one kid. I like to think that's like when pregnant women have one child of a different blood type than theirs and they need treatment for the second one because their body rejects the pregnancy otherwise? Well, the same, but since AOT medicine isn't that advanced, alphas women can only bear one child. Omegas can bear multiple children and, mostly, they have multiple pregnancies. And, on top of that, omegas who mate with an alpha only produce "alphas" or "omegas"; the pureness of the quality isn't lost, and that's why most rich people make sure to force "only omegas x alphas relationships" with their kids because they want plenty of heirs, all pure breed. Fun fact, in my mind, I think Ackerman are incapable of being anything else than alphas. So they all are. To set an example, both Erwin and Levi are high-breed alphas. Hange is a regular alpha tending toward a "lower alpha," meaning they have more or the same amount of beta blood as alpha. That's why they imply that Levi might think of "bitching them" if they don't leave, as a joke. This is because Levi, as a high-breed, would have asserted dominance.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Teeth sank into the reddening pulp, grimacing as she swallowed its overly sweet pulp. She’d had more than her fill of them by now. Her hands gripped her hips as her mother tugged at the back of her dress, tightening it with relentless precision.

“How many more of these do I have to eat?” she muttered, her mouth half-full.

“Do

not

touch the dress,” her mother insisted, exasperated. “Figs stain like crazy.”

Her grandmother, seated by the intricately decorated vanity, glanced up. “As many as it takes. Don’t you want your chest to be pump for the wedding?”

With shallow, uneven breaths, she turned to face herself in the triple-panelled mirror with its gilded frame. The multiple angles revealed the full grandeur of the white dress she wore. She, somehow, seemed tiny compared to the size of the grown. “Isn’t it... perhaps, a little much?”

Doubt settled into her mind as a servant pinned her hair in an elaborate updo. This was the third fitting, just three days before the big day; any change now would be nearly impossible.

“Nonsense!” her mother chided, fussing with the train to ensure it cascaded perfectly. “You only marry once.” Noticing the way her daughter’s leg tapped nervously, she gave her a sharp slap on the arm. “Stop it. Calm yourself, or you’ll faint before you even reach the cathedral.”

“Ouch!” she pouted. “I can’t help it—I’m so nervous. I want him to think I’m beautiful. I want him to think I’m... perfect.”

“He should count himself lucky,” her grandmother muttered with a groan, “You could do so much better than some Military Police officer, high-ranking or not.”

“Grandma,” she replied, weary of the topic, “Dietrich is an angel... he even worked extra hours so we could have the wedding at the main cathedral, just like I dreamed.”

Her voice softened, eyes shining with a blush on her cheeks, visibly lovestruck. Her little sister, tugging at her own flower girl dress, looked up and grinned, “You’re getting married where princesses do!”

“Yes,” Y/N beamed, crouching with a rustle of fabric, “and we’ll both look like princesses.”

“What if... what if my heat comes early? Or late?” Her breathing turned shallow. “We’ve been planning this for years—”

“Goodness, calm down!” her mother scolded, sounding weary. “You’ll get it next week as planned, and by then, you’ll already be bonded.”

Her grandmother sat at the table, grumbling to herself. The room around them was awash in white and gold, with intricate floral patterns adorning the walls and hidden doors blending with the decor. The house was full of energy as five children dashed about, all at different ages. The two eldest—a pair of identical teenage boys—moved with a synchronized mischief, while the remaining three, two boys and a girl, looked close enough in age to practically be triplets. The girl, rapidly growing taller than the other two. The three of them in that state of childhood that they can’t kept still.

But the simplest conclusion was that

she

was the oldest.
“Oh, say what you like, Grandma, but without Dietrich and father’s connections, we’d all still be waiting at the military tower, just like after the uprising.”

She turned, smiling warmly at another woman standing quietly in the corner. That woman’s facial features had no resemblance to the rest of the people in the room. “And thanks to Mrs. Irma, who’s so generously taken us in,” she said, offering a small bow of respect.

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Mrs. Irma replied. “In times like these, traditional families need to stand together.” Her expression darkened as she glanced at the clock.
“It’s absurd that they’re keeping Anthony at the board this late. Can you imagine? These are family hours!

One of the older boys, recently old enough to entertain more adult conversations, muttered, “Well... it’s not like the Scouts have any family to go back to.”

“Arthur,” Y/N snapped, her voice severe, “don’t say that.” He shrugged, but she held his gaze firmly. “What if someone hears you? Don’t be foolish, especially while Father is still imprisoned.”

Unfazed, the boy rolled his eyes. “You’re not my mother,” he muttered, looking toward their actual mother for backup.

“Listen to your sister,” she replied, more out of habit than strictness.

She smirked at Arthur, satisfied. Despite him recently presenting as an alpha, she remained firmly in charge.

Just then, the front door swung open so loudly it echoed through the house, drawing everyone’s attention.

Her head snapped up, her nose catching a familiar scent. Gathering the skirts of her dress, she hurried down the hall. Two older men stood in the entryway, and her heart leaped. “Dad!” she cried with excitement,

Her exclamation raised the family that quickly moved behind her. “I knew they’d let you out for the wedding,” she said, her voice shaking with joy as her father lifted her off the ground in a tight embrace.

When she withdrew her arms around her father’s neck and he set her down,
he looked at her with an unfamiliar intensity, almost prideful. “Oh, darling, aren’t you a blessing?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the expression. But before she could question it, the rest of the family surrounded him, eagerly pulling him into their midst. The owner of the house still cladded in his military uniform moved to his wife, Irma, and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he had said made the colours from her face drain and her eyes flicked toward Y/N, filled with an unsettling mix of shock and pity.

‘...What is going on?’

The bride-to-be began to sense the tension in the air. Her confused eyes moved to her father, who was still talking to the children. Her confusion was only slightly veiled as she heard him declare, “We are going back to the house!”

“To the country manor and all?” one of the teens asked excitedly.

“Yes, all of it. The Crown is returning the territories.”

Y/N smiled, but a shadow of confusion crossed her face. The news seemed almost too good. Had her fiancé put in a word with the military board? But then,

‘One thing is him being free, another is having our lands returned.’

None of her friends with family under military trial had gotten their properties back after the uprising. Most nobles still waiting for military trail at the tower, begging to not be executed. As she mulled this over, the scene repeated in front of her eyes. Her father bent down to whisper something to her mother, and both turned to glance at her.

The younger children ran around, cheering, the teens celebrating the prospect of leaving the borrowed home. Y/N, however, watched the four adults as they slipped into the study.

The sound of the double doors sliding shut with a finality that stirred her nerves was hard to forget. She could swear she felt the wind of air that the action produced slamming against her face. Just like her, her grandmother didn’t share the enthusiasm. Perhaps, Y/N was no longer a little girl to be easily tricked as her siblings.

While they conferred in private, she changed out of her dress into something more comfortable, scooped up her large white Persian cat, and settled in with her grandmother for tea. But neither took a sip. It felt like the eye of the hurricane, with a silence that gnawed sanity.

‘Calm down... it’s just nerves,’

she reminded herself, clinging to her mother’s earlier words.

But minutes passed like hours, and hours passed like days.  When the adults finally emerged, she stood quickly, meeting her father with a hopeful smile. “Dad, you’ll be able to walk me down the aisle!”

But the man placed both hands on her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he spoke. As he did, her smile slowly faded, replaced by a torrent of messy tears. She couldn’t quite recall how he delivered the news, having dissociated in the moment.

“No...” she whispered as tears ran down her cheeks, her head shaking slowly in disbelief. “Don’t do this to me...”

“Dad,” she cried, her voice like a frightened child’s, pleading against the monsters of the night.

He simply cupped her head with one hand, lowered it gently to plant a kiss on her crown, and said softly, “Make him happy, alright?”

—

Perhaps it wasn’t the time or place to think about it, but his mind kept drifting back. Maybe it was the season—spring—that stirred his body’s instincts with an eager pull toward mating. There was no rut, no nearby omega to trigger one, yet his body reacted to the shift in weather, sensing that if he wasn’t so stubborn, it might be the perfect timing for breeding.

Maybe it was because he’d been informed that everything was settled and that the wedding was set to happen as soon as possible. He had no say in it; within three days, it had been arranged. He absentmindedly spun a small red velvet box with a single ring on the wooden table. He had asked for the most common ring size and bought the only one he could afford—the cheapest, hoping blindly that it would fit her.

Or maybe it was Hange’s idea of ‘lifting his spirits’ with a bachelorette party, despite his protests. But his mind kept circling back to one persistent question:

‘Have I ever... actually slept with an omega in heat?’

The answer was clear: no. In his days in the Underground, he’d had encounters with a few omegas, but they were rare, and none had been in heat. Omegas hid during their heat. Understandably so, since an omega in heat risked being claimed by any alpha nearby.  Any decent alpha in rut would do the same, locking themselves away to avoid the instinct to claim someone they didn’t even know.

‘The closest... was that time her roommate went into heat. and she smelled faintly like an omega in heat,’

Levi mused, trying to dig up memories.

‘I remember thinking it was the best fuck I ever had...’

And it had only been a faint trace of pheromones, not even the real thing. Neither of them was a ‘high-bred omega’ or anything like that, yet the curiosity of what it might truly feel like lingered in his mind.

Especially after they’d informed him two days ago that his fiancée—his future wife—was expected to go into heat by the end of the week. The wedding had been fast-tracked to ensure he could claim her once they were married.

‘I shouldn’t be thinking about this—it’s creepy, to say the least,’

he reprimanded himself,

‘It’s just because it’s spring,’

he reasoned.

The season was clearly affecting him, sparking memories of times he’d been with betas or even alpha women. He’d never cared much about it, aside from the frustration of having to squeeze his own knot. He’d always assumed there was no difference, though he had no experience to confirm it. Attempting to knot a beta or alpha wasn’t just difficult; it was painful for them. All these thoughts spun around in his head, mirroring the ring box as it spun under his fingers on the polished table.

The day was annoyingly warm; his jacket hung on the back of his chair. The previous day, he hadn’t brought it and nearly froze; now he had, and it felt like he was boiling.

‘Damn spring,’

Levi cursed, clicking his tongue and glancing from the open door to the end of the hall, where Zackly had left the meeting for an emergency. The cadet he’d been grumbling to looked visibly nervous, though his expression read,

‘It’s not my fault, don’t yell at me.’

Then he saw Zackly returning, visibly tense, trying to mask his irritation.

‘What’s got him so riled up now?’

The three men sat down across from Levi, one slapping a stack of papers onto the table. The gray-haired man rolled up his sleeves, pushed his glasses up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then looked straight into Levi’s dead-set eyes.

“There’s been a last-minute issue,” he grunted. “Would you consider choosing another girl?”

“What?” Levi scowled. “Hell no. We already agreed on this.”

“I know, but—”

“No.” Levi crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. “What’s the problem?”

“Lady Y/N is feeling unwell—” began the youngest cadet timidly on Zackly left side, only to be interrupted by a brash MP on the other side of the higher in rank. “She’s bleeding. The chick missed her heat.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and Levi raised an eyebrow, grunting, “Huh?”

“Her heat’s gone. Her mother said it was stress-related. Doesn’t matter; the point is, she won’t go into heat this spring,” Zackly clarified, clearly annoyed. “So, pick someone who

can

still be bred this season.”

Levi didn’t respond right away, sitting in silence and letting his annoyance simmer as he waited, half-hoping that a sliver of humanity might surface among these men. “What’s the problem? Everything’s set—let’s carry on.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Zackly insisted, his patience thin. “She won’t be fertile—possibly for an entire year.”

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m not an idiot. And?” Levi replied, his tone making it clear he found their point absurd. “There’s a chance of omegas going into heat in autumn too,” he added dismissively.

“The odds are too low, and a year’s too long. Who knows what fate this island faces in that time? We need a child

now

,” Zackly jabbed a fat finger against the table for emphasis. “Choose another.”

Levi snorted, letting out a mocking chuckle. “The arrangement was marriage, and I agreed to that. The rest of this is your own twisted, old-man wet dreams. Whether I knock her up next week or next year—that’s my problem.”

Zackly sighed in frustration, resting his face in his hand. Levi, unbothered, shrugged. “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I’ll get the chance to learn her name before I’m a father.”

The MP, that Levi could tell he was an alpha by the scent, sneered under his breath, muttering, “She had one job and couldn’t handle it—the little hysterical chick. What’s she stressed about, eating cake? And omegas wonder why we call them the weaker sex.”

Levi’s sharp gaze pinned the soldier, who straightened in defiance. In the standoff that followed, it became clear: the first to look away would concede dominance. “Watch your mouth,” Levi warned, “or pray I don’t hear that crap again—ever.”

Scoffing, the soldier held his ground, teeth slightly bared as if it would grant him authority. “You don’t even know her,”

But Levi, humanity’s strongest, didn’t need to bare teeth. “I don’t care. If she’s an inconvenience and a pain in the ass, she’s

my

pain in the ass now.
So, the rest of you better shut up.”

The room grew tense, and the youngest cadet shrank in his seat, barely fifteen and newly presented, terrified of being caught up in an alpha standoff. At last, the MP turned away in frustration, shifting into a submissive posture, acknowledging defeat.

Levi snorted, settling back into a relaxed stance. It was typical alpha posturing—territorial nonsense. Or perhaps, ‘

the enemy of my enemy is my ally,’

he mused, because whether they liked it or not, she had managed to annoy them all. Levi took that as a personal win.

‘See...we already have something in common,’

he mused, a bittersweet smile flickering across his face at the thought.

—

“You! Last night as a single man! How do you feel?” Hange shouted, downing an entire pint.

Levi sat with his drink clutched between his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “Like shit,” he muttered.

“Nah, that’s just your usual mood,” Hange joked. “Thought bachelor parties were supposed to be fun? Where’s everyone else?”

Levi glanced up; his gaze heavy. “Dead.”

Hange’s smile faded; their lips pressed together as the realization sank in. They were the only ones left. The night shifted from bittersweet to just bitter.

“If eyebrows were here… he’d put a stop to all this nonsense,” Levi added, sounding defeated, like he’d grown addicted to ‘if onlys’ as the days passed. Hange raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning Levi’s words as if trying to make them fit, but only managed a grimace, like someone watching a mismatched eulogy at a funeral.

“Who am I kidding? That jerk would’ve planned everything behind my back and dragged me to church without explaining why,” Levi muttered, chuckling softly.

Hange burst into laughter. “Honestly! We miss Erwin, but let’s not kid ourselves,” they said, refilling Levi’s glass before slumping back into the couch. “Come on, you’ve got to face marriage like an alpha!”

Levi looked at them, puzzled. “Heavily drunk?”

Reluctantly, Levi raised the glass to his lips. Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder.

—

‘It’ll stop eventually.’

But it didn’t. The storm only worsened. By midday, it was as dark as night inside the chapel.

“Can I leave?” the priest asked, breaking the silence. The small-town chapel was empty—not just because it was a workday, but because the Church had lost much of its influence under the new government. But, to Levi’s annoyance, they still upheld the entire marriage ritual as if nothing had changed.

“You’re a priest. What else have you got to do but wait with us?” Hange replied, leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden pew. Turning to Levi, they whispered, “Are you sure she said today?”

At first, both had sat upright, coats adjusted for the formality of the occasion. But after four hours of waiting, with no sign of the bride, both Scouts had slouched against the benches, waiting for a miracle or release from this silent punishment.

Levi, resting his head back, hands in his pockets as the storm turned colder, shrugged “Maybe I read it wrong,” he said, his eyes fixed on the chapel floor, utterly devoid of expression.

“What?!” Hange exclaimed. “Does that mean I got drunk last night for nothing?”

“Nobody forced you to.”

“Well, what kind of bachelor party would it be if someone didn’t get drunk?” It was obvious Hange was trying to lighten the mood with a joke or two.

Levi, though, was too wrapped up in his thoughts to appreciate it. “It wasn’t a bachelor party, Hange. It was just you and me.”

“Sorry for annoying you with my friendship,” Hange replied, feigning offense. After a moment of silence, they continued, “Maybe she ran away…”

“Maybe she threw herself from the Walls, as I should have.”

Hange chuckled. “You’re being a bit overdramatic.” They could tell Levi was beyond stressed; his leg bounced restlessly, pacing each second with the beat of his boot against the floor.

As the storm worsened and time dragged on, Levi turned to Hange. “Go back to the Scouts.”

“What?” the newly appointed Commander asked, visibly confused. “No way, I’m staying! My baby is getting married!” they joked, earning an eye roll from Levi.

“I’m older than you, idiot.”

Hange slung an arm around Levi, grinning. “Yeah, but you’re shorter, so age doesn’t count.”

“Tch. Just go. We left the brats alone, and the sky’s falling. They’ll need help with the horses, and someone has to check on the coastal supplies. Without proper squad leaders, someone’s got to be there giving orders.”

Though Hange had taken up the Commander’s role, Levi’s support had often provided the final push they needed to take full responsibility. Most of the time, the captain could tell that the brunette felt like the role was too big for them. Levi seemed to feel that push was necessary now, especially in the storm’s chaos.

Hange, however, hesitated, reluctant to leave a friend who’d seen better days. “But—”

“Go,” Levi said, resigned but not angry. “I’m a big boy, Four-Eyes. I’ll be fine.”

Using their old teasing nicknames was the closest they came to camaraderie now. “Who’s going to sign as your witness, then?” Hange asked, rising reluctantly.

“If” —

Levi stressed the word

—

“

if

she shows up, we’ll improvise. Now go. The cadets need you.”

Levi shifted uncomfortably, glancing once more toward the doors, his patience worn thin as the storm outside seemed only to grow angrier. The priest fidgeted, muttering under his breath while Hange’s retreating footsteps had already faded, leaving Levi alone with his swirling thoughts.

The hours dragged on; the storm’s fury unrelenting. Levi, alone now in the dim chapel, had nearly let go of the thought that she would show at all. His head rested against the back of the pew, eyes half-closed, the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the roof above almost hypnotic.

He felt himself drifting off, exhaustion creeping in after he didn’t sleep a wink the previous night. He couldn’t decide which he preferred—her not showing up at all or going through with it. If she didn’t come, he’d have to endure this ordeal all over again. If she did, it would finally bring this chapter to a close, forcing him to confront a new way of life.

For a split second, he found himself comparing it to waiting for an execution.

‘No... let’s not turn into those bitter old men who think of marriage as a prison; the poor kid’s done nothing wrong.’

And just when Levi resigned to leave, a loud creak of the chapel doors shattered the stillness. Levi sat up abruptly, and two soldiers, rifles in hand and soaked through, marched into the aisle, flanking a lone figure in a drenched, greyish-white cloak. The hood hung low, obscuring her face entirely. Her face was obscured beneath the soaked hood, and the dress beneath the cloak—if it could be called a wedding gown at all—was stained with mud up to her knees. It looked far more like an ordinary dress than something intended for marriage, its hem torn and splattered with the earth she’d trudged through.

The two soldiers from Zackly’s meeting earlier that week were here, and Levi quickly understood why—they must be trusted to carry out the job of escorting her. When she finally stepped into the chapel, an unexpected aroma hit him like a punch. He couldn’t tell if it was the lingering aroma from the lost heat, adjusting to the sudden shift in plans and hormones. But she smelled—

‘Divine, for fuck’s sake,’

he thought, feeling ashamed at how quickly his own body reacted.

The soldiers stepped forward, both offering quick, sharp salutes. One spoke in a low, weary voice. “Captain, apologies for the delay. The main road’s flooded out. We lost the cart about a mile back—it’s stuck deep. We had to finish the journey on foot.”

Levi gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed on the figure between them. Levi could only see her hands—pale, trembling slightly. She didn’t move, her posture utterly still, almost as if she were an apparition more than a bride. The cloak’s edges trembled with each tremor from the cold. Levi had to fight the urge to bend lower and see if he could catch a glimpse of her face.

The priest, seizing the moment, gestured toward the altar. “Well, no use delaying further. Let us proceed.”

Levi remained still for a beat. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor as he approached the altar. But before he could locate her fully, the priest’s voice rang out, “Bring her forward.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

The same MP from before took hold of her arm, pushing her forward with an irritating smirk. “Come on, sweetheart. We don’t have all day.”

Levi almost stepped in to object; there was no need to shove her around like a rag doll. He shot a deadly glare at the soldier.

‘That’s strike two, asshole.’

Perhaps he was too focused on expressing his disapproval to notice at first, but she raised her head slightly, her delicate fingers reaching up to push back her hood, finally revealing her face as she turned toward him.

Levi froze.

‘Holy shit... maybe I should start choosing blindly.’

His reaction must have been obvious, as he could hear the two soldiers chuckling behind him.

“Look at how the bastard’s face changed,” one MP muttered, his companion nudging him in an attempt to avoid further reprimand.

Her hair was styled in a simple half-up, half-down braid, woven with white laces in an attempt to add a touch of glamour. Perhaps it had looked better when it was first done; now, it clung to her head, and the small, loose locks meant to lend an ethereal appearance were now plastered to her damp face. Her eyelashes, soaked from the rain, mimicked the look of mascara—though most of it had already smudged around her eyes. Despite it all, Levi thought she looked gorgeous.

As the ceremony began, the priest asked, “Are both of you here of your own free will?” It was standard procedure.

Levi, completely fed up with the situation, glanced at the man in the black robe,

‘You gotta be kidding me,’

he thought.

“Yeah,” he bit out.

On the other hand, she muttered as quietly as a mouse, “... yes.”

As the ceremony resumed, the priest’s voice echoed softly in the empty chapel, only slightly drowned by the relentless rain. Levi stood with his hands stiffly at his sides, listening to the murmured words without taking them in fully, his gaze repeatedly drifting to the shivering figure beside him.

When the priest finally motioned for the rings, Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out the plain, golden band. His hands were steady as he took hers, but he felt her flinch slightly, the coldness of her skin seeping through his fingers as he held her trembling hand. Her fingers, nearly numb from the chill, barely closed around his. He slipped the ring onto her finger, only to notice it was too large; the band slid loosely over her knuckle.

If it weren’t for Levi’s ability to keep his composure, he swore anyone else would have either cursed in the middle of this holy place or broken down in tears. It was just one more detail that seemed off-kilter, and he felt his jaw clench.

‘Come on, just one damn thing has to turn out right.’

A brief pause followed, broken only by the priest’s voice. “And now, the witness,” he announced, glancing around the empty space and catching Levi’s eye. Levi cursed inwardly, remembering that Hange had left at his urging.

‘For fucks sake.’

One of the soldiers caught on quickly. With a muttered, “I’ll find someone,” he strode down the aisle, pushing open the chapel doors and stepping into the storm. The silence grew heavy as they waited, the soldier’s footsteps echoing away and leaving only the rain in their place.

After a few tense moments, the soldier returned, ushering in a grizzled farmer who looked every bit as baffled as he was drenched. The MP walked the man to the altar and said confidently, “Problem solve,"

Second hand embarrassment run through his body as the farmer approached the altar with a respectful nod, casting Levi and the bride a curious look before taking the pen offered to him. With a swift scratch of ink on the paper, the witness line was signed.

Levi took a quick check on the bride and she seemed completely dissociated. The priest completed the ceremony with a "By the power vested in me by law I, now, pronounce you man and wife."

He took a loud sigh of relief, at least it was over. Turning to his right to look at her and perhaps attempt to say

something

for the first time. He even tried to force himself to do a subtle side smile to ease out the situation, much unlike him but he wished with all his heart that he knew how to be outgoing enough to bring some easiness into the situation.

—A soft, broken sniffle. She lifted her hand to her face, half-covering her expression and lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled just a little, the strands of damp hair falling forward, hiding her face. Her cries began to echo in the chapel.

Levi’s throat tightened, and he swallowed, a pang of guilt pressing on him. He glanced at the priest, who seemed as serene as ever, his hands hidden inside the long sleeves of his gown.

With a peaceful smile, the priest offered Levi a reassuring look, seeing his obvious discomfort. “Tears of happiness, I’m sure,” he replied softly.

Before Levi could even shoot him a deadpan glance, the situation had become so awkward that the youngest cadet tried to lighten the mood by tossing a handful of rice at them.

“Congrats…” he muttered with the least enthusiasm possible.

But as the rice landed on her, she began to wipe her face, where most of the grains had stuck to her wet skin. Spitting a little as the water made them cling to her, she cried, “It’s in my eyes,” a small sob escaping her.

The two cadets froze, glancing at each other before mumbling, “We should get going.” “Yeah,” they muttered, then made a hasty exit.

Seeing her struggling, Levi quickly realized the problem and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here, wait,” he said, brushing the cloth over her face, then patting her shoulders and hair to clear away the grains of rice.

When she finally opened her eyes—red either from the tears or the rice—she looked at him.

‘Say something,’

he thought, clenching his teeth against the uncomfortable silence.

“We should get going; you’re soaked,” Levi finally broke the tension, noticing they were completely alone in the chapel. “Maybe you can take a shower or something.”

“Is your house close by, sir?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Levi hesitated, feeling strangely at a loss. He lived at headquarters, of course, not in a proper household, but something about her question held an unspoken hope. “Not exactly. I stay at the Scout facility… it’s inside the forest. I was going to rent a cart, but in this weather, it wouldn’t make it through,” he explained.

She didn’t respond, just stared out at the heavy rain pouring beyond the chapel doors. Her expression made her thoughts clear.

‘Nothing could make this day worse,’

Levi thought with a quiet huff, scratching the back of his head. “Tch.”

She absently fiddled with the loose ring on her finger, holding it with her other hand to keep it from slipping off. Disappointment and resignation were etched across her face—until she straightened up, surprised, as something heavy draped over her shoulders.

“There,” Levi said, pulling the green military trench coat snugly over her head. “It’s not much, but at least it’s waterproof. The last thing I need is you catching the flu less than a week into this arrangement.”

A subtle blush rose to her cheeks, bringing a hint of colour back to her pallid face. She lifted the coat’s collar to her nose, breathing in his scent, which sent an unexpected shiver through her. She pressed her lips together, feeling strangely affected.

‘So strong,’

she thought. Though the arrangement itself felt far from ideal, her body seemed to be very glad.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured.

“Levi,” he corrected her, sounding tired.

“Huh?”

“My name is Levi,” he repeated. “If we’re going to do this, let’s at least start by using our names.”

“Y/N, then.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier.   The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them.   He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny.    ‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’    But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply.    ‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’      “All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled.   The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs.   “You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away.   “Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.”  Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.”  Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”   She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.”  Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?”  Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.”  When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.”   ‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought.  Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back.  She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.”   “Ride with your legs apart.”  She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely.  “This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her.  Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.”  But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny.   “Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.”  The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks.  With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort.  The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly.   “Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees.   Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off.   “I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?”   She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.”   She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.”   ‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by.   Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender.   She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious.   “Where is everyone?” she asked.   Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.”   He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground.   “Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.”   With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest.   Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building.    ‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’    Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘ It stinks.’   It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression.    ‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’    She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone—   “I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful.   “But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push.   As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints.   “...She was there,” Sasha insisted.   Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?”   Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.”   “Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?”   “A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.”   Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.”   Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.”   Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…”   But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten.  As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.   As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself.  Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’    He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod.  Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud.   “Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step.   She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside.  To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better.   Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.   She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested.    ‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.”   ‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’    The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘ Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here.   “Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.”   That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?”   Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his.   “I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.”   His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’    With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.”   Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame.   She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall.   “Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.”    ‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression.   “Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.”   She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door.  “Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.”   Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on.   “I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life.    'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine.   The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him.    ‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’    Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?”   “Yes, sorry.”   Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule.   Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts.   “We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror.    ‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’   For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything.   Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket.   A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’    “I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’   But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.”   Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.”   Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward.  Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here."   She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again.   "Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey.   She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.    "That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.    "Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.”   She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.”   "No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear.   Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?”   "No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant.   Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.    The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.    "When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.   Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me."   She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient.   "Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?"   Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.    "I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.   Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though.   "Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,”   She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak.  ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer, ’ she decided.   “No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.”   Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.”   Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’    Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.”   Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.    His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.  It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’    The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.”   “Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?”   Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.”   He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation.  She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…”   The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her.   Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.”   “But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance.   “Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.”   Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.”   She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.”   Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.”   The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?”   Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.”   "Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..."   “Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.”   "Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?"   Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.”   This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.”    ‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was.  Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’    A wait filled with mounting anxiety.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

A weariness clung to his body, one he couldn’t quite explain beyond being so utterly drained that even taking a shower felt like a monumental effort.  With a weary sigh, he pushed himself up from where he’d been slouched against the desk and slowly blew out the candles scattered around the office. Darkness didn’t bother him. He was used to it—had spent years orienting himself in the black void of the underground. The faint moonlight spilling through the window was more than enough. Compared to those shadowed depths, this was child’s play.  That night, the moon seemed unusually bright. His tired gaze drifted to the large arched window behind his desk. Waxing moon… or was it full already?   ‘Don’t they say some bullshit about omegas going into heat during the full moon?’   He scoffed. “Urban myth,” he muttered. It sounded like something out of a witch’s tale. But, come to think of it, wasn’t she supposed to be in season?  The stack of paperwork on his desk taunted him with the reminder that he’d probably have to pull an all-nighter. The thought made his jaw clench. After everything that had happened that day, he muttered a curt, “Fuck it,” and extinguished the last candle. The room plunged into shadow as he dragged himself toward the bathroom.  But then his attention snagged on the slightly ajar door leading to his bedroom. It wasn’t wide open, but it wasn’t shut either—a hesitation in its placement that mirrored her presence in his life. Maybe she didn’t feel she had the right to close it entirely. Or perhaps she didn’t want to invite him in.  Levi wasn’t sure what possessed him to check. Maybe he wanted to ensure she was asleep. Maybe it was just an excuse, though he hated the idea of coming off as some kind of creep.  The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the sound of his footsteps. His sharp ears picked up no stirring from the other side of the door. She was asleep—curled into a small ball beneath the blankets. Her face was peaceful, framed by a tangle of hair splayed across the pillow.   ‘She looks young,’ he thought absently, then corrected himself: Younger.   He pressed his lips into a thin line and tore his gaze away. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered, retreating into the safety of the bathroom.  As he stripped off his clothes, a faint scent clung to the fabric. It wasn’t unpleasant—not even close—but it was strong enough to make his body react in a way he resented.  “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, frowning deeply. “It’s not my fault,” he groaned, trying to shake the thought from his head. She wasn’t in heat, after all. If she had been, he’d already be climbing the walls. He grimaced at the thought of what that would’ve meant—both a curse and a convenience. Her hormones would have made her eager, desperate even, and he… well, he wouldn’t have had the luxury to hesitate. Instinct would’ve taken over, and by now, it would all be over—messy, but over.  But she wasn’t in heat, and that was both a blessing and a complication. On one hand, it spared them both the humiliation of fumbling through something neither of them wanted. On the other hand, he was standing half-naked in his bathroom, trying to keep his thoughts clean while the girl he barely knew slept just a room away.   ‘It’s like jerking off to the thought of a coworker,’ he thought with disgust. ‘ Not illegal, but it feels like it.’   He needed a clear head—desperately. Most of his squad had gone through their ruts recently, their youth amplifying every primal urge. She smelled too good for a group of young, horny alphas to ignore. A cold shower might’ve been the smart choice, but the chill of the rain earlier still clung to his skin, and he just wanted to collapse into bed.  His bed wasn’t an option, though—not tonight. Instead, he grabbed a pillow from the couch in the corner of his office. He propped it against the armrest and sank down, throwing a thin gray blanket over himself. His head rested against his arm, and his other hand lazily scratched at his stomach, the hem of his shirt riding up. The dim glow of the moonlight played across the room, and he stared at the ceiling, eyes heavy but his mind restless. “What the hell am I going to do,” he murmured to himself.  The sharpness of his fags could be perceived by his tongue that, under the foreign texture couldn’t stop feeling it. That, the thickness of his saliva and the clear feeling that his loose pants were perhaps a bit tight. It was obvious, she smelled too good, his own nature being highlighted by the time of the year and, in particular, the lack of exposure. Frowning and sighing loudly, he rolled over to a side searching for a position comfortable enough for him to fall asleep into.   Sleep came eventually. For Levi, sleeping on a couch with a makeshift pillow and a mission-worn blanket was a luxury compared to the alternatives. For once, exhaustion was kind.  On the other side of the room, her mind kept replaying the scene.   “Die. Just go. You’re making this harder for me,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the small French balcony of the borrowed household. The late-night air was cold against her skin as she stared down at the street below. It was late, the streets below barely lit, and her eyes darted nervously toward the door of her room before returning to the darkness beyond.   The young man standing below, dark-haired with striking gold eyes, still wore his military uniform. He looked up at her with an pleading expressing, “Come on, Y/N,” he called up, his voice a mix of desperation and imploring. “Are you really going to let it all go?  I can talk to someone—someone higher up that with what’s going on. We can change this. You don’t have to do it.”   Her grip tightened on the balcony’s iron railing, her knuckles white with tension. She shook her head sharply, pressing her forehead to the cold metal. His words only deepened the ache inside her. Referring to her loss of the season to “what’s going on” made it sound trivial, dismissive, when it had torn her apart. “Stop it,” she whispered. Her voice trembled as she added, “I’m doing this for my family.”   “You don’t deserve this,” he said softly, his eyes locked on her. “You deserve the life you’ve worked for—just as much as your siblings do.”   “Y/N!”   The shout startled her, and she flinched, slamming the window shut as the door to her room swung open. She spun around, pressing her back against the glass, hands behind her to brace it closed. Her heart thundered in her chest, afraid of being caught—not by her two-year-old sister, but by someone who might hold more authority.   “What is it, Mae?” she asked, forcing calmness into her voice as the toddler raised her arms to be picked up. She obliged, hoisting the little girl onto her hip before sitting on the bed, her exhaustion evident. Her tangled hair framed her face, damp from the cold towels she’d used to try to soothe her pounding headache.   “Are you leaving because I used your makeup?” Mae pouted, her large, curious eyes searching Y/N’s face.   Y/N managed a tired smile. The memory of her two younger sisters destroying her makeup a few days earlier flickered briefly in her mind. Back then it had infuriated her, now it seemed like a distant worry. “No, Mae. I’m leaving because I’m getting married. Remember?” she said, her tone soft, trying to explain in a way the toddler could understand.   “What about being princesses?” Mae pouted harder.   It broke her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she pulled her sister into a tender hug. The pounding in her head and the dull ache in her lower belly were relentless, her body rebelling against her refusal to conceive this season—as if she’d had a choice.   Mae was innocence incarnate, her wide-eyed questions too pure for the weight they carried. But her older brother, on the other hand, had been no help. She’d found one of the WANTED posters of her soon-to-be husband plastered on her dressing table as a joke.   “You think this is funny?!” Y/N snapped, shaking the boy by his shoulders. Her anger surged, raw and unrestrained, but she bit back the urge to slap him. “I’m doing this for you, idiot! For you, for Ed, for Mom!”   “You’re not in charge,” the boy spat, his voice cracking but defiant. “Dad’s home, remember?”   The arrogance in his tone made her blood boil. Ever since their father’s return, the boy had become insufferable, emboldened by his status as the favored child and the budding dominance of his alpha nature.   “You want to be a man so badly? Then act like one and know your place!” she hissed, shoving the crumpled poster into his chest.   “You’re marrying a subversive,” he sneered with disdain, parroting words he clearly didn’t understand.   “I’m marrying someone who’ll make sure you don’t have to live off scraps and pity from the military, you little fool!” she snarled. Her hands trembled as frustration and heartbreak collided.   That memory dissolved into another—curled on her bed, her body wracked with cramps. The bathroom light, still on, spilled into the room. From the cracked door, she could hear her parents arguing. The light from the corridor illuminated the carpeted floor by the ajar door, casting her parents' distorted shadows like a muppets show against the ground.  “She needs to rest,” her mother said, trying to placate the man’s rising fury. “These things happens —”   “She’s ruining us!” her father screamed. “This was our chance, and she’s screwing it all up!”   Her sobs grew louder, muffled only by the pillow she pressed against her face. She lay with her back to the slightly open door, as if trying to shield herself from the conflict. They had been arguing for a while about the possibility, the events all pointing in one direction. That alone had fueled this outrage. ‘How am I going to tell them?’ The thought made her chest tighten with anxiety.  They argued over a possibility, now she had to confirmed them that it was a reality. Only minutes ago, she had walked to the bathroom—the golden light of the candle still flickering there. When her fingers came away stained with blood, the confirmation of what she already knew—her heat had passed, her body rejecting what it was supposed to do.  “She’s not doing it on purpose!” her mother argued.   “Then fix her! Give her some calming tea, call the damn doctor, do something! You think he'll keep her if she’s not useful?!” She gripped the pillow tightly before tossing it over her head and pressing it hard against her face, as if she could make the world vanish for a moment. Silently pleading for the shouting to stop. ‘ Please… just stop.’    None of the memories from the past week came to her in order; they just replayed chaotically in her mind. When her tired eyes fluttered open in the dim light of the room, she realized she had been tearing up in her sleep. The shadows cast inside the room weren’t her parents', and the voices weren’t theirs either. Sitting up slightly, she became aware of her surroundings. The sheets felt rough, and the mattress was smaller than what she was used to.   The memory of when she had fallen asleep completely eluded her, but the clock on the nightstand indicated it was already morning. She couldn’t tell by the window; the rain was still pouring heavily outside. The hushed whispers of two people on the other side of the room made her debate whether to sit up or feign sleep. She quickly chose the latter as the sound of someone opening the door reached her ears. Curling up in the bed, she pulled the sheets over her face, nearly hiding herself entirely.   With her face almost fully covered, the scent of the bed surrounded her. There was something subtly unsettling about the lingering fragrance of someone else on the sheets—a constant reminder that this wasn’t her bed. Yet, it wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, it was oddly soothing. Her decision to pretend to be asleep shifted into the realization that she could drift off again. Perhaps her subconscious was taking over, responding instinctively to the alpha's scent that enveloped her—a primal comfort, making her feel safe and protected.  —   “Hi~” came Hange’s singsong voice as they opened the door without knocking. “Knock, knock,” they added playfully, as if mocking the concept of knocking before barging in.     Levi, standing in the middle of the room with his uniform half on and a toothbrush in his mouth, turned to glance at them with a raised eyebrow.     “Oh, I thought you’d be *less* ready at this hour,” Hange remarked, stepping fully into the room.     Levi spit out the toothpaste and wiped his mouth with a towel before muttering, “What are you doing here?” His eyes landed on the tray they carried. “And with a tray?”     “I brought breakfast for the newlywed couple!”     “Shh!” Levi hissed, moving swiftly to grab the tray before Hange accidentally dropped it. He motioned for silence, his expression stern. She was still asleep, and the message was clear.     “Sorry, sorry,” Hange whispered. As Levi set the tray on the coffee table and resumed getting ready, an unusual silence settled between them. It didn’t last long.     “So…” Hange began, their curiosity bubbling to the surface. “How was it? How is she?”     Levi ignored the question, muttering a vague reply through clenched teeth as he moved about the room, clearly trying to avoid the topic.     Hange’s sharp eyes followed him, their face shifting into a grimace as the tension grew. “I’m not exactly a purebred alpha,” they finally said, “but… you don’t smell very *taken* to me.”     Levi, who had just sneaked inside his room a little while ago to pick up his stuff, sighed loudly and stopped moving, giving himself a moment to respond. “… I couldn’t,” he admitted finally.     Hange pressed their lips together, unusually quiet for a moment. When Levi turned to face them, their expression said it all.     “Come on,” Levi snapped. “You’re a non-stop talker, and now you shut the hell up? Say something.”     “I’m… finding it.”     Levi rolled his eyes, grumbling in frustration.   “Oh boy...” Hange finally ventured. “Well. Maybe she was just tired? Tonight, after she’s settled—”     “We agreed I wouldn’t do it if she didn’t want to.”     The blank stare Hange gave him was enough to make Levi snap. “What did you want me to do?!”     “I don’t know?!” Hange exclaimed, throwing their arms in the air.  “Claim her? Maybe?!”   From an outsider’s perspective, the exchange might have been hilarious—their expressions exaggerated, their words intense, yet still whispered fiercely to avoid waking her.     Levi scowled. “Well, excuse me. Excuse me for not being a fucking rapist.”     Hange’s attempt at a lighter tone wasn’t helping. “Some would argue that you are—you’re an alpha, after all.”     “You’re an alpha too, you idiot,” Levi shot back, finding no humor in their dark joke.     “Hardly. I’m more beta than alpha.”     Levi ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You should’ve seen the puppy eyes she gave me. I’ve got fucking lots of kinks, but that’s not one of them.”     Hange clicked their tongue and shook their head. “Omega puppy eyes… the deadliest weapon of all.” They crossed their arms, leaning back thoughtfully. “Zackly’s going to kill you, though.”     “Tch.” Levi rolled his eyes. “He can suck my dick.”     That made Hange laugh more than they should have. “Seriously, though—what the hell are you going to do with an unclaimed omega in the middle of a military facility? I can catch her scent, and I’m a low-breed alpha.”     “That’s what I was hoping you’d help me with,” Levi admitted, reluctant to ask for help but clearly out of his depth.   Hange didn’t answer, instead moving toward the door.     “No, no, no,” Levi muttered, darting across the room to stop them, but they had already cracked it open to peek inside.     “You’re going to wake her up,” Levi hissed, his whisper dropping to an even lower register.   Hange ignored him, their eyes fixed on the small portion of her face visible above the sheets. “... What about a convent? Maybe I can talk to a priest.”     “A convent?” Levi echoed in disbelief as his exasperation grew “ That’s your solution?”     “Either that or bars on all the windows. No one gets in, no one gets out.” Hange turned to him, smirking.     Levi shot them his best deadpan expression. “We’ve gone from a convent to a prison. And you’re supposed to be the brains here?”     “I gave you a solution,” Hange retorted, leaning closer as their whispered argument continued. “Claim her.”     “I can’t !” Levi snapped, his frustration boiling over.     “Then trust,” Hange said, spreading their arms in a gesture of faith. “Then trust our soldiers. I trust them—they’ll behave,” though their tone sounded less certain with each word. “Maybe Jean will get a little too excited, like a puppy with a new toy, but he’s a good kid.”   Levi’s flat expression didn’t waver. “You trust Floch around her without me in the picture?”     The brunette, who had been sporting a confident, almost cheerful smile while defending the few original members of the Scouts before they were nearly wiped out, suddenly shifted to a serious, defeated expression. Waving a hand in the air, they muttered, "You made your point loud and clear."   The silence that followed was thick, as both stood by the door frame. Levi, arms crossed, was deep in thought. Meanwhile, Hange continued to stare at her, their eyes scanning her face across the dimly lit room.   "I’ll just... lock her up here for a couple of days until her scent calms down. It’s not ideal, but—"   Levi’s quiet musings, spoken with a defeated tone, were abruptly interrupted by Hange muttering under their breath, "She’s hella cute, though."   Levi’s hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, clicking his tongue in frustration.   "What? Can’t I compliment your wife?" the brunette asked jokingly, still admiring the sleeping girl. They tilted their head to the side, trying to get a better view. "You’re one lucky bastard."   "Four-eyes!" Levi snapped, using the old nickname he hadn’t used in years out of respect for his friend’s new position. The commander chuckled. "Stop staring at her," Levi ordered.   "I’m doing nothing," Hange shrugged, though their eyes remained fixed on the sleeping girl.   "I can fucking smell you, idiot!" Levi growled, clearly indicating that he could easily detect how Hange’s body reacted to his new wife. The spicy, interested aroma they gave off was more than enough for Levi to know that Hange found her more than just pretty.   Hange barely contained a laugh, forcing a straight face to speak. "Question, and this one’s serious," they said, their eyes twinkling. Levi’s tired expression only seemed to amuse them more. "If you two... ever get down to business, would you consider a threesom—"   "DON’T HIT ME!" Hange quickly added as Levi’s hand moved with lightning speed to smack the back of their head.   "Shut the fuck up. You’ll wake her up," Levi muttered, but Hange was already caressing the back of their head where Levi had smacked them. "And over my dead, cold body. You heard me?"   "Ugh," Hange groaned, rubbing the back of their head with their left hand. "You purebreds... are so territorial. You’re missing half the fun."   Levi remained with his arms crossed, eyes narrowing. "And you’ll be missing your only remaining eye if you ever bring that shit into my room again."  When she woke up again, the clock on the nightstand read 11 am.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“... Hello?”   She opened the door of the room slowly, peeking through the crack, only to find the ransacked office completely empty. The space was faintly illuminated by the softened natural light filtered through the drizzle outside. The storm had passed, leaving only the gentle, persistent patter of rain.  Flicking her fingers absentmindedly, she stood barefoot in the stillness. The silence was unnervingly heavy, making her skin prickle. She rubbed her arms against the chill. Turning on her heels, she retreated to the bedroom and glanced at the clock.  “What a great wife I am... waking up at midday,” she muttered, her gaze landing on the drawers. She hesitated, debating whether she should rummage through them for a sweater or something warmer to wear. But a muffled commotion from outside the room caught her attention.  Her curiosity piqued, she took tentative steps toward the small window above the nightstand. The angle was inconvenient; she couldn’t see much from where she stood. Carefully moving a few items off the surface, she climbed onto the nightstand, kneeling on it with her hands gripping the frame. Peeking just above the sill, up to her nose, she felt absurdly catlike—like her pet trying to sneak a bite off the dining table.  Outside, the training grounds came into view. Nothing unusual stood out at first glance, save for a cadet surrounded by scattered equipment. She could hear voices carrying over the rain.  “Jean-boy, are you really that useless?” Connie's voice rang out. “You’re going to drop a thunder spear one day, and that’ll be the end of you.”  “Don’t call me that, baldy!” Jean shot back, hurriedly picking up the pieces he’d dropped.  That seemed to strike a nerve. “I’m not bald anymore! I grew my hair out!”  Jean straightened with his arms full, ready to retort, but froze when his golden eyes locked onto hers.  “!!!” She squeaked in surprise, almost toppling off the nightstand as she lost her balance.  “Jean, we’re going to be late,” Connie called, approaching his friend. He frowned when he saw Jean standing motionless. “What are you staring at?”  “I saw a girl in Captain Levi’s room,” Jean muttered, dazed.  Sasha, who had been trailing behind lazily, perked up with a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you’re not just hungry and hallucinating?” she teased, referencing one of Jean’s infamous complaints.  “Tch! I’m not imagining things! I saw her,” Jean insisted, pointing toward the window. “She’s right—” But when all three turned to look, the window was empty.  “Why would Captain Levi have a girl over?” Sasha wondered aloud, clearly entertained by the thought.  “Isn’t he, like, really popular?” Connie asked.  “Short men aren’t popular,” Jean retorted.  “Maybe you think that because being tall is your only redeeming quality,” Sasha fired back, smirking.  “Guys, what’s taking so long?” Armin approached, puzzled.  “Captain Levi kidnapped someone!” Connie blurted out.  The pause that followed was almost deafening as Armin processed the statement. Finally, he grimaced and said, “Alright...” He dragged the word out, rolling it on his tongue as if dissecting it. “You’re going to have to walk me through how you reached that conclusion.”   Back in the bedroom, she muttered under her breath as she replaced the items she’d moved earlier. “He owns so little furniture, and I almost broke it,” she grumbled. Time felt distorted—passing yet standing still. Determined to accomplish something, she opened the drawers, searching for warmer clothes.  Her fingers brushed against a thick, knitted beige cardigan. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she pulled it out. Its quality was better than anything else in the drawer, and it appeared barely worn. She slipped it on, savouring the cozy warmth and the elegant braided patterns that adorned it.  Her hair, however, was another story. With nothing at her disposal to tame it into a neat bun or anything similar, she opted for a simple braid. Her “skincare routine” consisted of splashing water on her face and brushing her teeth. The bathroom cabinets offered little—no face cream or other luxuries.  She wanted to look more presentable, but there wasn’t much to work with. Her dress was still a muddy disaster, and her shoes sat damp by the unlit fireplace, refusing to dry in the humid air. At least she’d managed to put her bra on underneath his clothes, even if they were slightly damp. It was... something.  But as the minutes dragged on with no sign of him, her attention drifted to the door. The knob gleamed temptingly, as if beckoning her. Her fingers wrapped around it, testing its cool, polished surface. With a light press, she tried to turn it—and froze.  “What?”  She tried again, her confusion mounting when the result didn’t change.  “Excuse me?” she huffed aloud, offended.  Determined now, she moved to the office. Dodging the desk, she pulled back the curtains to find the main window. She grasped the knob and tried again. Nothing.  Panic rising, she rushed back to the bedroom and tried the window she’d peeked out of earlier. It wouldn’t budge.  “He locked me in!”  The realization hit her like a slap. Outrage bubbled up as a thought from the previous day resurfaced—that he treated her like one of his cadets.  “I take it back!” she declared, indignant. “I’m not a soldier under conscription... I’m kidnapped! ”   When the front door of his chambers creaked open, she jumped from her seat as if propelled by springs. Levi stepped in, quiet as ever, carrying a tray in one hand and his muddy boots in the other. His gaze was fixed downward, his movements precise, only to falter when he noticed her staring at him with wide, startled eyes—like a deer caught in the hunter’s sights.  “You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious as though it were groundbreaking. His attention, however, quickly shifted to the cardigan she was wearing. His brows furrowed slightly, his displeasure clear, though the reason for it escaped her.  “I was cold,” she explained defensively.   Levi pressed his lips together, shifted to set the tray down on his desk, and gave a curt nod. “It’s fine,” he said, though his tone didn’t match the words.   “Where were you?” she asked, her voice sharp with accusation.  Levi ignored it entirely. “I brought you something for lunch,” he said instead, carefully placing the tray on his desk. His sharp eyes caught the teacup she’d left behind—nearly full, now cold, and utterly wasted.  It was like an unpractised waltz, each moving out of sync with the other. He felt a flicker of irritation at the wasted tea but refrained from clicking his tongue. She, on the other hand, felt the growing need to demand answers.  Kicking off his socks near the unlit fireplace, he dropped his mud-splattered boots beside it. He was damp, though not as drenched as the day before. His green cloak had served its purpose well enough. As he moved purposefully through the space, she trailed after him, shadowing his every step like a duckling following its mother.  The first time he turned sharply and collided into her, Levi froze, startled and visibly annoyed. “Where were you?” she asked again, her persistence dogged as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.  This time, he spared her a side glance. “Working,” he said curtly, as if she were prying the words from his mouth.  “With this weather?”  He didn’t dignify the remark with more than a curt “Yes,” as he made his way into the bedroom. Opening the wardrobe, he pulled out another pair of uniform boots with the ease of a man who knew exactly where everything was. Unlike her, Levi moved through the space like he owned it—which, of course, he did. His demeanor lacked curiosity, replaced by a brisk efficiency. Everything was where it should be, and anything out of place drew his immediate notice.  Could he have explained that the soldiers trained in such weather to prepare for maneuvering their ODM gear in storms? Possibly. It might even have smoothed the conversation. But Levi wasn’t inclined toward unnecessary elaboration. Instead, he moved to his drawers and opened them, his jaw tightened when he noticed the contents had been rearranged.  “Tch.” His annoyance was audible. He worked quickly, deftly refolding the clothes and restoring his meticulous color-coded system.  “Where are you going?” she pressed, her relentless questions earning a sharp exhale from him.  “Working,” he said without looking up.  “Still?”  “Yes.”  “Are you going to keep training?”  “No.”  “Then?”  “Meetings.”  “Now?”  “Yes.”  “When will you be done?”  “Later.”  “Later when?”  “I don’t know. As long as it takes.”  Each question landed like a pebble tossed at his patience. She followed him step for step, persistence wearing his resolve thin. “You locked me u—” she began accusingly, only to stop abruptly as he spun around to face her. His expression was dark, his irritation palpable as they stood in the doorway leading to the bathroom.   She froze, lips pressing together as her wide eyes met his. His jaw tightened, and his heavy breathing was audible.  I want to take a shit,” Levi growled, his tone flat but sharp. “Would you let me do that, or are you planning to follow me inside too?”  Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Silently, she took a step back, clearing his path. Levi shut the door firmly behind him.  Later, during a meeting, Levi would reflect that he should’ve kept his composure. But at the time, frustration got the better of him. As unfamiliar as all this was to her, it was equally new to him. He wasn’t used to sharing the four walls he called home. Seeing them disrupted—by his standards, turned upside down—was far from easy to stomach.  Levi wasn’t used to this. His quarters, his routines, his calm—it had always been his. Seeing it disrupted, even slightly, felt unbearable. The wasted tea, the cup left precariously on his desk where it could stain, the tea set not cleaned immediately, his clothes rearranged, stray hairs in the bathroom sink—it all gnawed at him.  Levi wasn’t sentimental about objects, but the cardigan? That had been a gift from his previous squad for his birthday. He hadn’t yet worn it—by choice, not for lack of opportunity. It was a high-quality piece, and he’d never felt the need to use it. Now, seeing it draped on someone else without permission added to the sense of invasion.  And the way she chased him, trailing at his heels like an overeager recruit, added insult to injury. The last time someone had followed him around like that had been Isabel, back when she was just a kid. That had been over a decade ago.  Levi was a man of discipline, order, and solitude. This upheaval felt like his carefully ordered life had been tossed out the window on the whim of a few bored members of a military board. And he wasn’t handling it with grace.  Levi emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair slightly damp and a faint scent of soap clinging to him.  He had tidy up his appearance after heavy training, back inside the room. Only to find her sat down at one of the office’s couches. The pouting and demanding glance from her didn’t stop him.  He ignored her gaze, brushing past her to grab the tray of food he'd brought. "Eat," he said simply, placing it on the coffee table next to her.   She hesitated, glancing at the tray—a bowl of steaming soup, some fresh bread, and a cup of tea, the latter clearly a replacement for the one she'd neglected earlier. “Thank you,” she murmured, though the tone held a trace of reluctance. The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped her attention back. Levi emerged, his damp bangs brushing his forehead, his expression as unreadable as ever. His eyes flicked briefly to the tray, then to her. Giving her quick flickering checking looks as he sort through a stack of papers.   “Eat while its warm,” he insisted.   “I’m waiting,” she replied, though her tone carried an edge.   Levi raised an eyebrow, then crossed the room to retrieve his cloak. He pulled it on with practiced efficiency, securing the straps across his chest. “I’ve lunch with the squad,” he said shortly, his tone brooking no argument.   “Where are you going now?” she asked, her voice rising just slightly.   Levi paused at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned his head just enough to glance at her over his shoulder. “I told you. Meetings.”    His grip on the door tightened for a moment before he sighed, turning fully to face her. “I don’t know how long it’ll take. But I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”   “It’s not like I can leave this place,” she spat, her frustration spilling out.  For the first time, a flicker of amusement crossed Levi’s face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re just confined for now.”  He searched for patience within himself. “I don’t know,” he muttered, ready to leave, “Take a nap.”   Before she could fire back, the door closed behind him with a decisive click. Was he always like this? Was he angry, or was this just his way? She hated this imbalance of power.   “If his idea of marriage is locking me in and giving me orders, this is going to be a long arrangement,” she muttered aloud to the empty room. She had heard of Alphas who kept their Omegas close, but this felt excessive, even extreme.   Levi arrived at his meeting, letting his weight fall into the chair with a sigh. He couldn’t help but reflect on the situation. His mind drifted away from the discussion at hand. ‘I’m not angry, I’m just busy’ , he told himself. But then, his thoughts returned to the cold tea left behind, unused. ‘Maybe I’m a bit angry.’    Dragging his feet down the hallway, Levi entered his chambers quietly, the door creaking softly as he stepped inside. The room was warmly lit by a few candles. “Y/N, I brought you dinner,” he announced, his voice flat as he moved toward the bedroom. The lights were dim, but bright enough to make him think it had been left on for a while.  She was asleep, curled beneath the covers, her arms sprawled outward, fingers almost touching the floor. The sight of her like that—a far cry from the tense, demanding energy she had shown earlier.  The glint of something caught his attention, flickering in the night. Levi bent down to pick it up and examined it closely. The ring had likely fallen off her finger and onto the ground. "Tch," he muttered, irritation bubbling up—not because she wasn’t wearing it, but because he had one job to do.  He didn’t know her well enough yet, and honestly, matching her ring size would have felt like a miracle, but still—he couldn’t help but think it should have gone a little smoother. He placed the ring safely on the nightstand, then checked the clock.  Almost midnight. Exhausted, Levi ran a hand through his hair, frowning as a heavy sigh escaped him. He had intended to finish quickly, but this was exactly why he hadn’t married by choice. Do I look like someone who has time to be a present husband?   With the windows shut, the air in the room felt thick and stale. Each breath only reminded him why he had kept her confined. He could breathe through it, but barely. His eyes, whether intentionally or not, had drifted to her parted legs, one hanging out from under the blankets. The weather had improved, and she’d taken off her sweatpants.  His throat tightened, saliva thickening as his senses kicked in. The lingering scent was lighter than yesterday, but still potent, and her body’s confusion over the heat slowly dissipated. Meanwhile, his body felt like Christmas had come early. Recalling his thought the day before the wedding—when had been the last time he’d gotten laid? Especially with an omega?   His instincts didn’t care about the specifics, though. They just kept track, happy that the wait was finally over.  “The last thing I need right now... is getting into a rut,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the room. The quiet of the building settled in now that everyone was asleep. He opened the window, letting the cold spring night air flow in.  From one of his desk drawers, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. It would cloud the scent and, hopefully, give him some mental peace. His instincts couldn’t distinguish between the smell of a passing heat and the prospect of an upcoming one. All day, he’d been making sure no hormonal alpha had caught wind of it and gotten into a rut, but now, he feared he might be the one who needed to worry.  His eyes flicked toward the food tray. The bowl of soup remained mostly untouched, only a few bites taken from each item, the bread barely nibbled. She had eaten very little, if anything. Something about that unsettled him, as if the quiet act of leaving the meal half-finished was an unconscious rejection of the care he had tried to offer.    The candles—those half-melted stubs—still flickered weakly, forgotten in the dim light. She had left them burning, and it struck him as careless. It was a small thing, but it stood out in his mind. He moved over to extinguish the flames, quietly placing everything back into order, the habit of tidying his surroundings kicking in without thought. When the candles were out, the only light in the room came from the faint glow of his cigarette.  “Tch.” He clicked his tongue again, moving to his desk to find that the papers had been shuffled, his pencils moved. Perhaps his standards were too strict after years of having everything in its place.  But then, he saw it.  A small, simple drawing—done with the precision of someone who knew what they were doing. A bird’s nest, complete with baby swallows peeking out. His gaze narrowed as he studied it, his attention caught by the perspective.  Instinctively, his eyes flicked to the window behind his desk. He glanced to the right, and there it was—between the roof and a column, the exact same nest. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not bad . Not that he had any right to judge—his own art skills were nonexistent.  He turned the paper over. She had written, “One swallow does not a summer make.”  Levi scoffed. She had probably gotten it from some old book he didn’t know about, or at least that’s how it seemed by the way it was phased. He stubbed out his cigarette and made a silent promise to try harder the next day.     “You’re up early,” Levi remarked, his voice tinged with surprise as she stepped out of the bedroom. He was still getting ready for work, adjusting his cravat in front of the small mirror by his desk.  “I’m tired of lying in bed,” she mumbled, her words nearly as tangled as her hair. “I slept all day yesterday.”  Levi sighed and stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulders to steer her toward the couch. “Out of the way,” he muttered, guiding her out of the narrow corridor that connected the rooms. He needed the space to move around without tripping over her.  She sat obediently, her eyes following him with unwavering attention as he continued preparing for the day. The morning light was unusually bright, the weather having improved dramatically. The birds were chirping, and the sun had already begun to heat the room.  “Look at the bright side,” Levi said, almost forcing himself to be more conversational than the previous day. “Your stuff might arrive soon.”  “Can I leave the room?” she asked tentatively, her tone almost hopeful.  Before she could even finish, he turned sharply, his expression serious. “No.”  The reply was firm, final. There was no room for debate.  Instead of her continuing to bombard him with questions like an interrogation, Levi moved quickly, pacing around and delivering a monologue of his own.  “Listen,” he began, his voice steady but low, “This isn’t the kind of place where you wander around on your own. Not in your state. You’re not a soldier, and you don’t know the layout. You get lost or end up somewhere you shouldn’t, and it’s on me.”  He paused to finish tightening his cravat before throwing her a sharp glance over his shoulder. “When it’s safe, I’ll let you out. Understood?”  She simply nodded, not saying anything.  “I brought you breakfast. Eat.” His tone softened slightly as he moved away from the bathroom and over to a cabinet in his office. “Where the hell did I put it?” he muttered to himself, not expecting an answer.  Levi crouched by one of the lower cabinets, rifling through its contents with the efficiency of someone accustomed to order but occasionally betrayed by his own lack of use for certain items. “Aha,” he murmured, pulling out a small glass jar of raspberry jam. “Farmers nearby gave it to me.”  He set the jar down on the tray alongside the other food he’d prepared. It was clearly homemade, the seal still intact.  Ready to leave, Levi glanced at her again. “I’ll try to come back earlier today.”    Levi’s sharp grey eyes settled on the untouched tray sitting on his desk. The stack of paperwork tucked under his arm wavered slightly as his fingers drummed against the wood in slow, deliberate taps. His jaw tightened, irritation brewing beneath his otherwise stoic demeanor.   Turning toward her, he fixed her with a pointed gaze—like a parent catching a child avoiding their vegetables. She sat curled up on the couch, avoiding his eyes.   “You barely touched anything I left you,” he said, his tone edged with annoyance. His mind raced. ‘ Is she doing this on purpose? Some sort of protest?’    Her gaze flicked away, searching the room as if trying to escape his frustration. Levi, however, wasn’t the type to let things slide. He raised his hand, expecting—no, demanding—an answer.   “So?” he asked, his tone sharp.   “…I’m not used to eating barley bread,” she murmured, her voice small and hesitant. The dark, dense bread hadn’t been to her taste, especially compared to the soft, fluffy buns she was used to. Her fingers fidgeted with the loose ring as she added, “And plain black tea gives me heartburn.”   “…I usually have it with milk,” she finished, almost as if confessing a secret.   Levi released a weary sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of a man pushed to his limits. ‘ This is so fucking hard.’    “You could’ve at least tried the damn jam,” he muttered, his frustration softening into something closer to resignation.   Her lips pressed into a pout, the kind of silence settling between them that Levi had learned to dislike. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible.   “…I couldn’t open it.”   The honesty of her admission, paired with the image of her struggling to twist the stubborn lid, tugged a rare chuckle from him. Grabbing the jar, which was still vacuum-sealed, Levi effortlessly twisted it open with a single motion.   “Here,” he said, handing it back to her.   But instead of gratitude, she frowned up at him, her pride clearly bruised. Her tone was sharp as she retorted, “I loosened it.”   The corner of Levi’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Sure,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  Two thoughts flickered through his mind: Cute, and Grocery shopping—noted.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Reaching out, he grabbed the first items he found, dropping them into his basket with little thought. ‘I should’ve gone to Trost’, he mused. The small rural town near the Scout facility didn’t offer much in terms of variety. Most locals lived self-sufficiently, farming or raising livestock. Trost, on the other hand, was farther away, and with his limited free time, it wasn’t an option this week. The act of grocery shopping felt like a distant memory, more of an abstract concept than a routine he’d ever mastered. In the underground, homes were more like squatter's shelters—claimed rather than owned. Kitchens were either non-existent or barely functional, forcing most people to rely on taverns for meals. He’d done the same. If he wanted more than bread and cheese, he’d head out for something warm. He recalled the occasional market day when he’d taken Isabel to pick out “whatever she wanted,” keeping his hood up to avoid attention. The image flashed briefly—Isabel, beaming, holding up a packet of cookies, seeking his approval. The memory flickered and faded as he reached for some pastries on display at the bakery. They weren’t much, but they were more than plain crackers. He picked items at random, a mixture of reluctance and uncertainty guiding his choices. This should do, he thought, noticing the baker’s daughter lugging a heavy tray of milk buns to the counter. Her flour-streaked apron and flushed cheeks gave her the look of someone used to hard work. Levi cleared his throat. “Oh, are you done, Captain?” the girl asked, dusted her hands off before packing his selections into paper bags. She couldn’t have been older than his newly proclaimed wife. “Can I get a dozen of those, too?” He pointed at the fresh white bread. She blinked, surprised but obliging. “Of course.” As she moved to fulfil his request, she added, “I dare say, Captain, it’s surprising to see you here like this. You hardly ever shop in town.” Levi hummed noncommittally, neither confirming nor denying. He glanced over his shoulder at his squad, who were busy loading supplies onto the cart, too preoccupied to notice him. “Is someone sick at HQ? The weather’s been wild lately,” the girl continued, clearly eager for conversation. She might have assumed someone had caught the flu, forcing him into town for soft bread to tide them over until rations were delivered. “No,” Levi replied curtly, “But yeah, it’s been raining a lot.” “Do you sell dairy?” he asked, shifting topics as he mentally ticked off his list. The girl shook her head. “No, that’s Gilbert. He’s around—want me to call him?” Before Levi could answer, she turned to the back window and shouted, “Gilbert!” Her voice was startlingly loud and commanding, a sharp contrast to her polite demeanour moments earlier. She returned with a cheery smile. “He’ll be here in a minute.” Levi barely had time to process before, a young man with a dishevelled look and a peaky cap leaned into the window, clearly irritated. “What now, May?” he grumbled. ‘They’re close’, Levi noted. ‘Well, this town’s so damn small, everyone is.’ Gilbert’s attitude flipped the moment he spotted Levi. “Captain,” he greeted, pulling off his cap and nodding respectfully. “He’s asking about dairy,” May informed him, returning to her chores. “Oh, is someone sick?” Gilbert asked, shifting his attention to Levi. “No, just need milk, cheese, maybe butter. I can’t keep coming down here every time I run out. Do you deliver to the countryside?” “Of course.” Gilbert nodded. “Leave the empties near the stables. I’ll replace them when I see them.” “That’ll do,” Levi agreed, pulling out his wallet. He suspected other Scouts’ Squad Leaders had lived a little less frugally than he did. ‘Like Eyebrows,’ he thought grimly. But at that time, most of them where gone. “I’m just surprised you’re shopping here now,” May chimed in, a sly smile on her face. “Is everything alright at HQ?” “Yes.” “I thought the Scouts had a deal with the Reeves Company,” Gilbert added, leaning on the window frame. Levi hesitated. Socializing wasn’t his strength, but ripping the bandage off now seemed the easiest option. “It’s for my wife,” he said plainly. Silence fell, heavy and awkward. Levi pressed his lips together; it simply didn’t feel real to pronounce those words. Saying them out loud confused him, it just made no sense for him but it was real. Almost like a weird illusion.  The girl’s fake innocence vanished, replaced by a look of irritation and disappointment. Gilbert, on the other hand, stifled a laugh poorly by noticing her face. “Congratulations,” the girl muttered begrudgingly. “Congratulations, Captain,” Gilbert said, grinning. “Actually, my father mentioned something about it, but I didn’t believe him.” “Thanks,” Levi replied curtly, eager to leave. “Where’s she staying? Maybe she’d like to join us, the girls and I, for tea,” May asked, her tone a forced blend of sweetness and curiosity. ‘For fucks sake, just drop it,’ Levi decided to ignore it as the young man set four glass bottles of milk and some extras. Levi paid, though May tried to refuse. “It’s on the house, Captain,” she insisted. “Come on, I grabbed a lot,” he countered. “And my mother would be thrilled knowing Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’s wife is eating her recipes,” she insisted. Reluctantly, Levi accepted, gathering the bags with practiced efficiency. She resumed her prying. “Let us know where she’s staying! We’ll invite her out!” “She’s at HQ for now.” May’s surprise was evident. “I didn’t know civilians could live at HQ.” “Let them be,” Gilbert teased, nudging her arm. “Newlyweds can’t stand being apart, especially this time of year.” His comment made her giggle and blush. — “I paid for those groceries with my dignity,” “I mean… they’re kind of right; don’t you think? What’s a civilian doing at military headquarters?” The brunette nudged the captain, attempting to keep the conversation alive. “You can’t just keep her locked up in your quarters forever, you know.” Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “I know. But where the hell am I supposed to put her? In the stables?” Hange’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, despite Levi’s clear frustration. “Oh, we could go house-hunting! I’ve always wanted to do that!” They grinned, as if this were an adventure. “Owning a house is one of my wildest dreams! Right up there with seeing the outside world. I can’t believe I got to see the ocean before I could even afford a house—but hey, that’s the economy for you.” Hange chuckled, undeterred. “I’ll have to have a word with that asshole Zackly. I can’t keep her living off charity,” Levi muttered. His long list of responsibilities felt like tackling a Hydra—cut off one head, and two more grew in its place. “So?... Did she like them? Or is she still sticking to that hunger strike?” Hange leaned back; their cheeks already flushed from the alcohol. They’d shifted from standing close to the captain to sprawling in their own chair, drink in hand. “There was never a hunger strike. She just hates our food,” Levi replied dryly. “Not that I blame her. But she’d better start getting used to it. I’m not hiring her a private chef, and she can’t live off cookies and cheese forever.” The memory of earlier that day surfaced unbidden.   “You’re back!” she said, startled, stepping out of the room quickly to meet him. “I brought you something to eat.” Levi set the bags down on the table. Unlike her usual cautious approach with the trays he brought, she dove right into inspecting the bags, curiosity lighting up her face. She peeked into each bag, her expression softening with genuine delight. Levi caught himself staring—maybe for the first time since they met, he noticed something resembling happiness on her face. “Oh!” she squealed, pulling out the buns and bringing one to her nose. She inhaled deeply, savouring the sweet scent before tearing a piece off and taking a generous bite. “Try not to fill up before dinner,” he warned gruffly. He remembered the previous night’s “dinner,” which had mostly involved her picking through the stew like it was poison. But her eyes, bright and grateful, met his. She made an effort to swallow quickly, breaking the eye contact momentarily, then said softly, “Thank you.”   “Oww. Look at you, all doting. Your little alpha brain was probably glowing,” Hange teased with a wide grin. Levi frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?” “Come on, Levi. Alphas instinctively provide for their mates. Bringing her food is, like, prime courting behaviour—” “Spare me the biology lesson,” Levi cut them off sharply. “I’ve had enough of your nonsense for one day.” He reached for his glass, hoping it would hide the faint heat creeping up his neck. He’d dreamed of her the previous night. Not just of her, but of marking her—claiming her in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to think about while awake. “At least her scent’s calming down,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hange. “Maybe now I can actually think straight.” The last remaining veteran hummed faintly, their approval distant as they leaned back in their swinging chair, eyes closed. Sleep-deprivation from endless responsibilities and the alcohol in their system created a perfect cocktail for them to drift into dreamland almost instantly. Levi, however, let his head hang over the back of his seat, eyes shut. He sighed heavily. “The one thing I’m grateful for... is that those two are Betas. If they weren’t, I’d never hear the end of it.” He was referring to the fact that the small-town folk—most of whom were Betas—couldn’t recognize or differentiate between the scent of a bonded or unbonded Alpha. — “Dear Nana,How is everyone? How is Clauws doing?” She carefully penned the letter, seated at a desk that wasn’t hers. The pen’s tip dipped into ink once more before gliding across the paper. Though countless questions buzzed in her mind, very few could actually be written down. Her grandmother had always been strict, but when everything fell apart, she was the first to offer support—a comforting presence her own mother hadn’t provided. Her mother, too preoccupied tending to the returned “head of the house,” had barely noticed her struggles. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress, Nana,” She paused, remembering the day her grandmother had handed her the cherished wedding gown. It was simpler in design, a reflection of the fashion back then. “A piece of me will be with you that day,” her grandmother had said. The letter rambled in places, yet felt hollow in others. “Things are improving slowly. My belongings arrived two days ago, which was a clear improvement,” she wrote. She smiled at the memory. How ridiculously happy she’d been to finally take a proper shower using her own soaps, hair products, skincare, and body lotions. At last, she could wear a dress that was hers. Levi’s reaction to the mountain of boxes had been understated—a brief glance, a slight narrowing of his eyes—but he’d said nothing. His indifference almost tempted her to write: “Nana, is it normal for a husband to not be interested in you?” But she stopped herself. Her initial theory had been that her appearance was to blame. The limited wardrobe and lack of self-care products had left her feeling dull. But after her belongings arrived, she took her time in the shower that night, ensuring every inch of her smelled pleasant.  —  Levi returned to his chambers after a long day, utterly drained. He kicked off his boots, but still bent down to align them perfectly by the wall. Scratching the back of his head, his hand moved instinctively to push the bathroom door open—only to stop short when he noticed the light was on. Her startled squeak from inside made him freeze. The door slammed shut in his face. “Sorry,” he muttered, stepping back to avoid getting hit. He’d completely forgotten she was there. Despite the subtle changes around his chambers—the rearranged furniture, the extra storage for her belongings—it hadn’t sunk in. Levi waited a few moments, exhaustion weighing on him. Each blink grew slower, heavier. Finally, he sighed. “Is this going to take long? I need the bathroom,” he asked, voice calm but firm. “No.” He frowned, rolling his eyes as if following an invisible clock. “Is that a ‘No, I’m done,’ or a ‘No, I need more time’?” “What does that even mean?” she called back, her muffled voice sounding farther away than it actually was. Levi shifted his weight impatiently, hands on his hips. “It means your ‘just a minute’ is turning into an eternity.” He opened the door, the abrupt motion startled Hange, who was working at the desk nearby. Levi muttered irritably under his breath, brushing past them. “Feel free to make yourself at home,” Hange quipped sarcastically, as if they didn’t burst into Levi’s chambers uninvited all the time. “I need to use your bathroom,” Levi snapped. But after a quick glance inside, he wrinkled his nose, muttered, “Never mind, the cadet’s public ones are cleaner,” and left. — When he returned to his chambers later, exhaustion pulling at every step, she was seated there. Her freshly washed hair glowed with a soft sheen, and the dress she wore seemed to accentuate her figure in all the right ways. The change in her mood was palpable—she looked lighter, almost happy. “You’re back earlier,” she said softly, breaking the silence. Perhaps the isolation was getting to her. She had no one to talk to but herself, and even her inner monologues were starting to feel unhinged. “Yeah.” Levi didn’t elaborate, setting down a stack of papers he needed to finish. He poured himself a cup of tea and sat at his desk, ready to get to work. But her gaze was intense, her attention unwavering. He raised his eyes slowly from the papers, catching her shy smile. She looked... almost embarrassed. “Yes?” he asked, his voice betraying no emotion. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes bright with unspoken thoughts. Levi frowned inwardly. ‘She wants something’. Too tired for subtle games, he asked bluntly, “What do you need?” “Oh, um… how was your day?” she asked, the long pause making her question feel like an afterthought. “Busy.” He blinked slowly, waiting for her to get to the point. “What do you need?” For Levi, this was attentiveness—cutting to the chase and solving her problems directly. But to her, it felt cold. Distant. Pressing her lips together, she tried to maintain her optimism. “Don’t you notice something different?” she asked, her voice carrying the same tentative excitement as a child presenting a crayon drawing, they’ve poured their heart into. Levi barely looked up from his work. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him after nonstop duties. “Your stuff arrived.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Well, yes. You brought it.” She leaned forward slightly. “Something else.” Levi, disinterested, returned to his papers. “My bathroom is crammed with packages of things that’ll be impossible to keep tidy. That it?” Her smile faltered, the enthusiasm in her eyes dimming. “No,” she muttered. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the scratch of his pen on paper. Her drop in mood didn’t register with him immediately; his focus remained fixed on his work. “Then I don’t know. I give up,” Levi finally said, his tone casual as though indulging in a child’s guessing game. “Communication is key, isn’t it?” He kept the conversation going, albeit with his usual bluntness. “I’ll be direct. I leave this place around six in the morning and come back around nine at night. When I get here, I just want to use the bathroom without waiting an hour. The rest of the day, it’s all yours.” In his mind, he was simply setting boundaries—clarity prevented misunderstandings. “Settled accounts keep old friends,” as the saying went. He didn’t want resentment to build and cause an issue later. “Sure,” she replied, her voice lacking the earlier spark. Minutes passed in silence. Only then did Levi notice the shift in her mood. He tapped his pen against the desk, trying to shake off the sense of something being off. Straightening in his chair, he forced himself into a form of socialization that didn’t come naturally. “How... was your day?” he asked, his tone awkward but sincere. She gave him a faint, understanding smile. “It was good.” “Good to hear,” he said, returning to his papers. She replayed the events of the previous night in her mind, conflicted. 
‘He called off my wedding and chose me with such determination... didn’t back out of the new arrangement when I lost my heat.’
 She pieced together the events as though unraveling a mystery, searching for a missing clue. 
‘He not only didn’t want to claim me… he’s simply not interested in me.’
 A deep sigh escaped her as she ran a hand over her face. The confinement of the past few days had left her dizzy and drained. 
‘Am I doing something wrong? Failing as a wife somehow?’
 The thought of asking, ‘Captain, have we met before?’ lingered on the edge of her mind. How could a man so adamant about marrying her—a man who used his newfound authority after the uprising to demand her as his wife—not even know her? ‘We must have met before,’ she rationalized. ‘Perhaps at a ball? Maybe he knows my father?’
 
Yet, even as her thoughts spun, she arrived at a reluctant conclusion: 
‘I don’t desire him to claim me, but at least he could be interested in me.’
 If she could wish for one wedding gift, it would be for him to talk to her—about anything. She wanted to know if this marriage was punishment for her family, a humiliation disguised as duty, or if he was simply as severe and unyielding as he appeared. She stood a few steps behind him, clutching the letter she had written earlier. Her eyes lingered on the curve of his bent head as he worked. When should she ask? Would it annoy him? What if he refused? 
‘What if he doesn’t want me to contact my family anymore? Should I lie and say it’s for a friend?’
 “Ehm,” she began hesitantly, catching his attention. Levi glanced at her, waiting. “I was wondering if you could send a letter for me?” She braced for his reaction, expecting irritation or even outright anger. But Levi merely extended his hand. “Sure,” he said simply. Her initial shock passed quickly, and she moved closer, handing him the envelope. “Is... this alright?” she asked cautiously, testing the waters. “Did you write the address correctly?” “I think so.” “Then I don’t see why not.” They shared the same language, but their meanings never aligned. She questioned the morality of staying in contact with her past, while his thoughts drifted to streets and doorways, turning her words into something as practical as addresses. Levi flipped the envelope over, his sharp eyes catching the empty space where the sender’s details should have been. Picking up his pen, he filled in the information himself, then reached for one of the stamps he used for his own correspondence. After affixing it to the envelope, he placed it atop the pile of outgoing letters. “Done. With that stamp, it’ll be sent as a high priority.” She wondered if this was some sort of test. “Alright, thank you,” she replied hesitantly, retreating slowly back to the room. Her cautious movement caught his attention. ‘Try talking to her, be sociable,’ Hange had urged him during lunch. ‘At least try to befriend her. You’re the only person she knows.’ The memory of that conversation made Levi press his lips together and exhale softly, though not loud enough to draw attention. His eyes scanned his desk as if it might somehow offer the social skills he so clearly lacked. “You don’t have to leave. We can share the room.” Those words stopped her in her tracks. After countless nights of waiting for his return and his insistence that he had too much work to spare time for her, she had assumed he didn’t want her there. Slowly, she walked back to the desk, hesitating before taking one of the armchairs in front of him. Her mind was a battlefield of questions, but the voices of those who once told her that the success of a marriage depended on a woman’s quietness forced her to remain silent. Levi, on the other hand, wished she would ramble about anything—or everything. ‘I’m not in a position to get picky’, he thought. It wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed talkative people— ‘no one likes a damn yapper’, he mused with a wry press of his lips—but he wished she didn’t seem so…scared. Respect and fear had followed him like shadows since his underground days, and he had never found silence uncomfortable. But something about the absence of connection in their shared space unsettled him. This was his sanctuary: the room where veterans had snuck in to celebrate his birthday against his will; the room where he, Mike, and Hange had gotten high because the mess in their rooms drove him mad; the place Erwin would stumble into drunk to rant about aging before forgetting the entire conversation the next morning. Now, she slept in his bed—a bed he rarely used unless he got any unexpected visit for a night or two. She had gone through his drawers, where condoms, hardly touched lube, and those ridiculous chocolates Hange had once gifted him as a joke lay tucked away. She had invaded his space, his place, and he didn’t even know if she had some embarrassing middle name. “You came back earlier today,” she muttered, breaking the silence. He blinked. Had he? Maybe he had been trying to finish work earlier, hoping to get back before she fell asleep. “Did you forget your keys?” she asked. Her question made him freeze, his sharp eyes narrowing. She instantly regretted asking. ‘Someone tried to break in’, Levi’s mind leaped to the worst conclusion. “What happened?” he asked, his tone calm but commanding.“Nothing. It was a quiet day,” she lied, her eyes darting away like a guilty dog avoiding its owner. “Don’t lie to me,” Levi said firmly, though without aggression. “Nothing. The front door’s knob was pushed down and tugged a couple of times, but that was it. The door was locked anyway,” she admitted, her voice hesitant, “I thought maybe you’d forgotten your keys.” She tried to shrug it off, though her footing felt shaky. “It really was nothing,” she added quickly, her excuses flimsy and arriving too fast to be convincing. “It’s not that deep.” ‘I want to go out… I need to leave this place, or I’ll go nuts,’ she thought, the words she withheld tightening around her like chains. It felt as though she’d just added three more locks to the door with every word she spoke. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” she murmured, her voice softening.
 
‘Well… maybe a little,’ she admitted silently, guilt prickling at the edges of her thoughts. Levi sighed heavily, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. His patience was stretched, but his tone was steady. “Stop it. I’m not angry at you.” “Well…you look like it,” she muttered, barely audible. Levi caught her words. “That’s just the face I was born with,” he deadpanned, standing to prepare tea. “If I were actually mad, you’d know.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though she still seemed wary. When he asked, “How much milk?” she snapped out of her thoughts. “Oh, half and half, please,” she replied. He carried on, adding two sugar cubes and placing her cup next to her before returning to his seat. One leg over the other. “Thanks,” she murmured into her tea, both hands clasped around the warm cup. As the room fell silent again, Levi’s gaze landed on a stray sketch she’d left on his desk—a portrait of a cat. He held it up. “You’re an artist, huh?” “You’re an artist, huh?” he asked suddenly. “Uh?” She blinked, then realized what he meant. “Oh. I won’t leave them around again. Sorry.” “That’s not what I meant,” he said, a trace of exasperation in his tone. “You’re not bad at it.” A soft smile touched her lips. “Thanks, but I’m just an amateur. A real artist is someone professional. My technique is weak.” “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re better than anyone I know,” He scanned the sketches scattered across the desk. “Who told you that? Some shitty teacher?” She hesitated. “My father.” Levi pressed his lips together. “Sounds like a real ray of sunshine.” She chuckled at his dry tone. “He just didn’t want me to think I could make a living out of it.” “Ah, a natural motivator,” Levi deadpanned. “Bet he works in suicide prevention.” She laughed, the sound light and genuine. ‘First joke she’s found funny,’ Levi thought. She leaned forward slightly, a grin on her face. “Do you know my father, sir?” “Not a clue,” he replied, sipping his tea. “Don’t call me ‘sir,’ by the way. I told you that.” Her expression turned sheepish. “Sorry… force of habit.” Her smile faltered. Then why…why did you choose me? The question hovered unspoken between them. Before she could gather the courage to ask, Levi changed the subject, holding up the cat sketch again. “You like this cat?” Her face brightened instantly. “Yes! That’s my baby, Clauws!” Levi raised an eyebrow but kept his thoughts to himself. ‘What kind of shitty name is that?’She explained, “I got him as a Christmas present. He had claws, and Santa Claus brought him to me, so…Clauws.” “Ah. I see.” She laughed, catching his expression. “Give me a break—I was ten!” “Fair enough.” “Are you a cat person or a dog person?” she asked, clearly trying to keep the light mood alive. “Neither,” he replied bluntly. Her smile faded. “I never owned pets. They shed everywhere. Too messy.” Her enthusiasm dimmed, but she tried to hide it. “I guess…”  —  “I’m telling you, he’s been taking trays to his chambers!” Sasha’s finger hit the mess hall’s table as she spoke. “He has someone there!” “How do you know he’s taking an extra tray for someone else and not just for him and Commander Hange to have dinner together?” Connie asked, trying to find logic in her declarations. “Because there’s been an extra tray for every meal!” “You count trays?” Jean grimaced in shock. “You’ve got a serious problem with food.” “Whatever! He has someone there!” “Ugh, let’s put an end to this,” Armin said, appearing out of nowhere to place his tray on the table. He climbed onto the bench attached to the surface, the rest of the group looking at him in confusion. With a loud, fake sigh, Armin pulled out a small pile of letters and held them up for everyone to see. The group gasped. “He has a girl named Y/N over. How do I know? Correspondence,” Armin declared. “Armin, you’re a genius!” Sasha exclaimed, but Jean stared at him in pale horror. “Have Eren’s suicidal tendencies rubbed off on you?! Captain Levi will beat you senseless if he finds out you’ve touched his letters!” “Relax. I’m going to put them back before he finds out,” Armin said calmly. “I read in a detective novel that you can open letters with steam and reseal them. Maybe we’ll figure out what she’s doing here.” Before anyone could respond, another voice broke in. “Who? The omega Captain Levi has in his office?” As Floch appeared and sat down next to them—uninvited and unwelcome—their lighthearted curiosity turned uneasy. “How do you know that?” Connie was the first to ask. “Well, Mr. Wannabe Detective here would’ve known if he were an alpha,” Floch sneered, clearly enjoying his superiority on calling Armin’s beta nature out. Was there a connection between Floch clear unbiased wish that they would have chosen Commander Erwin, a well-known alpha, over Armin? Perhaps. Armin stayed silent, his self-esteem taking a blow, but Jean, the only alpha in their group, though far from dominant, jumped to the challenge. “Shut up! Even if she was one, how would you know?” Jean demanded. “Oh, I know.” Floch smirked. “I was delivering reports to Commander Hange, and her scent hit me under the door.”Floch had recently come out of a rut, a telltale sign of young alphas developing. “I have to say, before I realized it, I was trying to open the door. But it was locked,” he added, sounding almost offended. “Such a pity.” The friendly atmosphere disappeared completely, and everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “That’s creepy as hell, dude,” Sasha said, disgusted. Floch shrugged. “Everyone knows omegas drive alphas wild. Who the hell brings one here? That’s on them.” Suddenly, Armin stood, clutching the letters tightly. “Maybe I should put these back,” he muttered. The idea of digging into Levi’s private life no longer felt like innocent gossip—it felt deeply wrong.  —  Levi stared at the two envelopes in his hands, clearly not work-related and not addressed to him. He quickly noticed one bore the name of the letter he’d sent earlier. But something didn’t add up. The last names didn’t match. “Her father, maybe,” he thought as he read, “Dietrich.” He shrugged it off. “Maybe they’re a tight-knit family,” he guessed. He made a mental note to drop the letters off at his chambers before heading to his meeting. “Maybe it’ll cheer her up.” But when she saw the letters, she didn’t look cheerful at all. She tried to mask her unease with a forced laugh. “Oh, haha, I just have a headache,” she lied, waving it off. “Do you want some painkillers?” Levi asked, already thinking about making a quick trip to the infirmary. ‘Maybe it’s an omega thing after a heat?’ He wasn’t well-versed in omega biology, but he wanted to be a considerate partner. “No, no, thank you! Have a good time at the meeting,” she said quickly, ushering him out. Alone at last, her hands trembled as she clutched the letters, sinking into the couch. Her heart raced. ‘He wrote to me,’ she thought, her cheeks flushing. But the realization quickly turned sour. “He wrote to me,” she muttered, dread sinking in. One part of her wanted to read it, to giggle and cherish the thought that she was still the deepest desire of a man who wouldn’t give up without a fight. But her rational side screamed, “Are you out of your mind? Imagine what he’d do if he found out.” Duty or love. Desire or safety. ‘Screw it,’ she thought, her hands trembling as she struggled to open the seal without tearing the paper. A gilded reflect caught her attention from the corner of her yes. Her grandmother’s letter, sitting on the coffee table next to the wedding ring she’d taken off earlier. The ring was uncomfortable. It didn’t fit her well. But the sight of it next to her grandmother’s letter felt like a moral reminder. Her grandmother had written back so quickly to offer support, her words a lifeline in this overwhelming new life. The excitement drained away, leaving only shame and pain. “You know what the right decision is,” her conscience scolded. Before regret could take hold, she tore Dietrich’s letter to pieces and flushed it down the toilet. Tears streamed down her face. “It’s the right decision,” she repeated, thinking of her younger siblings—particularly her two little sisters. It was late into the night. The field lay eerily still, save for the occasional shadow of soldiers patrolling under curfew. Their footsteps were sparse and distant, a quiet reminder of the night’s vigilance. She sat on the wide threshold of the office’s main window, her head leaning heavily against the glass. The chill seeped through, a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin, and she welcomed it. Her lifeless gaze stretched out into the abyss beyond, where darkness swallowed everything in sight. The tears hadn’t dried yet. She blinked slowly, afraid they might return if she lingered too long on her thoughts. The air felt thick, oppressive, as if it carried the weight of her despair. The walls seemed to close in with each passing second, shrinking her world into something suffocatingly small. ‘I hate it here,’ she thought bitterly, the words ringing like a quiet scream in her mind. Levi returned to his quarters, the weight of another gruelling meeting pressing on his shoulders. The moment he stepped inside, he noticed her sitting by the window, her figure barely illuminated by the dim moonlight. Her head rested against the glass; her shoulders slumped. Something about the way she sat—so still, so lost—struck him. He shut the door quietly, hanging his cloak by the hook before stepping further into the room. “You’ve been sitting there all night?” he asked, his tone neutral but laced with a hint of concern. She didn’t turn to look at him, her voice soft and hollow only hummed. “What is that even supposed to mean?” Levi asked back. She didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m fine.” The words were brittle, almost a whisper. He crossed the room, setting something down on the desk before leaning against it. “You don’t look fine.” She seemed unresponsive, as if life were something that passed her by, not something she was meant to live. Levi’s gaze lingered on her, his breathing slow and deliberate as he wrestled with the unfamiliar territory of trying to be understanding. ‘What is it now? The food? The place?’ “Y/N,” he said, his voice low but firm. The sound of her name seemed to pull her out of the fog she was in. “I told you—I’m not a mind reader. If something’s wrong, just tell me, so I can fix it.” Something shifted in her expression, her dull gaze sparking with an edge of frustration. “What’s wrong?” she echoed, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m far away from home, from everyone I know. Stuck here, in this tiny little room.” ‘Oh… so that’s it,’ he thought, nodding softly with an air of exhaustion. “This is temporary,” he replied, his tone even. “I’ll find you a place—somewhere better. Somewhere you don’t have to be here… with me—” Before he could finish, she raised her hands to her face, muffling a scream before collapsing into sobs. Levi froze, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. That reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. “What the hell did I say now?” he muttered under his breath, bewildered, watching her unravel before him. She turned to face him, her eyes red-rimmed but sharp.  “What do you want from me?!” “I’ve the same damn question,” “Why are you doing this?” He frowned, taken aback. “Doing what?” “This.” She gestured vaguely around the room, her tone sharp and weary all at once. “Why am I here? Is this some sort of punishment? Did you think my family would suffer more by taking me?” Levi’s brows knit together. “Punish your family? What are you talking about?” “I’m not going to excuse anything,” she continued, her voice rising as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m not going to excuse what my father did, alright? He did business with the old Military Police. Sure. But we weren’t some noble family rubbing elbows with the royal court. We’re not that influential.” Her words came faster now, anger and frustration spilling out unchecked. Levi opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t stop. “At first, I thought you knew my father somehow, or maybe you hated my kind, and this was some sort of twisted fantasy,” she began, her voice trembling but firm. “Then I wondered if you just wanted an Omega wife to fit neatly into your new position in the government. But now? I don’t know anymore! I don’t understand what you want from me!” Her hands clenched into tight fists on her lap, her knuckles whitening with the pressure. “I don’t understand!” she repeated, her tone rising with the weight of her frustration. “You don’t even want me here—you’re trying to send me away, somewhere I won’t be a burden to you. You had plenty of single Omegas lined up for marriage, but instead, you called off my wedding, dragged me all the way here… just to cast me aside. What do you want from me?!” Her voice broke as the raw emotion spilled over. “Is it fun for you? To ruin my life? To make me miserable? Is that all this is to you—some cruel game?” She looked away, her gaze dropping to the floor. “And now my grandmother writes to tell me that my cat won’t eat. He’s lying in my old room, waiting for me. He’s going to die because of all this.” Levi straightened slightly. “Your cat?” “Yes, my cat!” she snapped, her eyes blazing. She inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself, but her tears betrayed her. “I was supposed to marry someone else,” she said bitterly, her words slicing through the air. “I had a life planned out. I was going to live close to the capital with my friends, with my cat, with the man I’d been preparing my whole life to marry. And then you…” Her voice wavered as she fixed him with a glare. “You called off my wedding.” Levi froze, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What?” he said, his voice low and rough. “I didn’t—” “Don’t,” she interrupted, her hand raising as if to physically block his words. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want your excuses or justifications. Just leave me alone, okay?” He stood there, his hands at his sides, watching her crumble in front of him. Her words hit him harder than he cared to admit. He hadn’t known she was engaged—or that her life had been so carefully planned before all this. He hadn’t realized how much she’d lost in the process of being pushed into his world. But she wasn’t letting him speak. “I just want to go home,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please… just leave me alone.” Levi clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists. He wanted to say something—anything—  —  “You GAVE me a girl who was engaged to someone else?!” Levi’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “You didn’t claim the damn Omega?!” Zackly shot back, his tone equally sharp. The two cadets stationed at the far wall exchanged nervous glances, their bodies stiff and pressed flat against the plaster as if trying to disappear. They dared not breathe too loudly, their eyes darting from one side of the office to the other as the shouting escalated. “Who the hell cares about that?!” Levi snapped, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “The girl’s a blink away from throwing herself off a balcony! And the only reason she hasn’t is because I live on the first floor. She’s smart enough to know she’d survive the fall and just end up crippled!” “You come into my office to shout at me,” Zackly growled, slamming his fist on the desk, “demanding a house, calling me a liar—and you haven’t even claimed the girl?!” His voice rose with incredulity. “You wanted her. No second thoughts. We gave her to you! What the hell did you expect us to do?” “I don’t know,” Levi retorted, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Maybe you could’ve told me she was already promised to someone else!” “You got what you asked for,” Zackly shot back with a scoff, leaning back in his chair. “You had one damn job, and you couldn’t even do that. So go back, claim the girl, and then we can talk about anything else.” Levi stood frozen, disbelief washing over him. His steel-gray eyes locked on Zackly as if trying to process how a man could be so absurdly indifferent. “Maybe you’re the type to enjoy abusing girls half your age, but that’s not me. She doesn’t just hate me—she despises me.” Zackly let out a derisive laugh. “Oh, your wife hates you? Boo-hoo, Captain. Welcome to marriage.” His sarcasm made one of the cadets stifle a chuckle, which they instantly regretted when Levi’s sharp gaze flicked toward them. “We’ve got a coastal expansion to deal with, a train system to build, and a Marley invasion to prepare for,” Zackly continued, waving dismissively. “Neither of us has time to waste on this nonsense.” Levi’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He’d never seen eye to eye with Zackly, and now, his patience was at its breaking point. “I need a damn house,” he ground out. “I can’t keep her at headquarters.” The tension in the room was broken by one of the cadets, who sneered, “A house? Alone, for an unclaimed Omega? We’re not funding a brothel. Half the Alphas inside the Walls would be lining up outside her door.” Levi’s world went red. His hand shot out, grabbing the cadet by the collar and dragging him close, his voice a low growl. “You say something like that again, and I’ll make sure you’re the one they’re lining up for.” He yanked the cadet lower, forcing him to meet his piercing glare. The cadet’s bravado shattered instantly. “I’m sorry, sir—I didn’t mean—” “I don’t care what you meant,” Levi hissed, his tone deadly calm. “You like to act cocky, but the moment you’re in my hands, you’re shaking like a little bitch.” He held him there a moment longer before shoving him back against the wall. “Don’t test me again.” The cadet nodded furiously. “It won’t happen again, Captain. I’m sorry.” “Tch.” Levi turned away, muttering under his breath. “This couldn’t get worse.” — “So… no house hunting today?” Hange quipped as they exited the main building, each fresh from their respective meetings. Their steps initially fell in sync, heading toward the waiting cart, but Levi abruptly veered off down the street. “Were you going?” he shot back, his tone flat yet tinged with subtle sarcasm. Hange stopped, blinking at his retreating figure before jogging slightly to catch up. their eyes dropped to the letter he held, his gaze fixed on the address written there. “I’ve got something to pick up,” Levi said curtly, not breaking stride.  —  “Hey. Come on, wake up.” Levi’s voice was quiet but insistent as he gently rocked her shoulder. She was sprawled on the bed, deeply asleep, the pitch-black room silent except for his voice. He’d been gone the entire day, leaving at five in the morning, and now it was three a.m. the following day. Despite his best efforts, she hadn’t even stirred when he came back. “Wake up,” he urged again, shaking her lightly. “I’ve got something for you.” A muffled groan escaped her lips as she shifted uneasily, her face scrunching in sleepy confusion. “What?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “You’re back?” “Yeah, now come on.” He tugged lightly at her arm, his grip firm but not rough. “Get up.” Grumbling incoherently, she sat up, her movements sluggish as she tried to process being forced awake. Levi didn’t wait for her to fully come to her senses. He turned on the light in the adjoining office, casting a blinding glow that made her squint and groan louder. “What’s this?” she muttered, shielding her face and rubbing her eyes. Levi didn’t answer at first. Instead, he walked to the center of the room, a box resting on the floor. “You’ll have to be responsible,” he said plainly, crouching to open it. “I don’t have the time to take care of it or clean up after it. That’s my condition.” Her grogginess evaporated the second she processed his words. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught as she saw him lift the box’s lid. “Oh my god. Oh my god—oh my god!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking as tears spilled down her cheeks. Dropping to her knees, she reached out as her cat—frail, disheveled, and scared—darted toward her arms. The small animal let out a hoarse, frantic meow, burying its head into her neck as she hugged it tightly, crying openly. “It’s okay,” she sobbed, rocking the trembling creature as if to soothe both of them at once. “Mommy’s got you. It’s okay. You’re safe now.” Levi stood in silence, watching the scene unfold. His lips pressed into a thin line as he observed the cat clinging to her like it was afraid to let go, its pitiful meows muffled against her shoulder. The animal looked half-dead—though perhaps it had been revived by her sheer will the moment it reunited with her. Before he could say a word, she rose to her feet, still clutching the cat, and threw her free arm around him in a fierce hug. The startled animal was caught between them, meowing in protest, but she didn’t seem to care. “Thank you,” she cried, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much!” “You’ve got to be responsible—” Levi started, but his words cut off as she planted a quick, impulsive kiss on his cheek. He froze, his usual stoic composure crumbling for a split second as his brain scrambled to process the gesture. He didn’t know whether to step back, reciprocate, or say something, so he settled on standing still, his arms awkwardly hovering at his sides. ‘Well,’ he thought dryly, watching her coo at the cat with unrestrained joy, ‘this’ll make it ten times easier to tell her she’s stuck here until further notice.’

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Levi whispered, though his lips were already on her neck, sucking softly. He inhaled deeply, pinning her against the wall. “You smell too good.”

The girl chuckled, unfazed. “It’s not me. It’s my roommate. She's the one in heat—her stink stuck to me."

It was intoxicating, mind-blowing. Levi felt like he was losing himself. Her hand brushed his face, soft as velvet, and for a moment, it seemed too perfect. His brain spun, a haze of imagined pheromones clouding his senses. The omega in his arms had to be the one in heat, right? It all felt too real.

What...?

When he raised his head, shaking off the fog, he realized the warmth he’d buried his face into wasn’t her neck—it was his own folded arms on his desk. He squinted against the blur of exhaustion.

“Meow.”

His foggy gaze landed on a cold, unceremonious wet nose poking his face.
 
 
Levi groaned, turning his head away. "Not now," he muttered, half-heartedly swiping at the persistent feline. But the cat wasn’t one to take a hint. It resumed its soft, clawless pats against his cheek.

"Go away," Levi grumbled, already knowing resistance was futile. Burying his face deeper into his arms, determined to stay asleep, though he knew it was pointless. Levi groaned, swatting at the feline. The animal, unbothered, hopped down from the desk, only to start scratching at the window with maddening insistence.

The sharp sound made Levi sit up instantly. “What?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low so as not to wake the other person sleeping nearby.

He glared at the white cat, which now wound itself around his legs, purring and drawing lazy figure-eights.

Levi stared at the animal like it had personally offended him. "What do you want?" He sighed, scratching his undercut, his hair a mess from sleeping at the desk. "Go back to sleep with your owner." If the damn thing responded with words, he swore he’d lose his mind.

Eventually, he stood, running a hand through his messy undercut. The cat seemed pleased, trotting around the room and glancing back to ensure it was being followed.

“Your food bowl?” Levi guessed, following reluctantly. “I filled it last night.”

“Meow!”

“It

has

food!” Levi snapped, shaking the bowl to demonstrate. The kibble rattled against the bottom, spreading out enough to cover the previous patch of emptiness in the centre. The cat dove in as if the food had magically appeared. Levi blinked. "...You’re actually dumb."

Hands on his hips, he watched the cat eat for a moment, his tired gaze drifting toward its fluffy, oversized frame. “You know,” he muttered, “when she said she 'kitty,' I wasn’t expecting a fat lump like you.”

The cat ignored the insult, contentedly crunching away.

Levi, on the other hand, felt personally attacked. His good dream was ruined, and exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Taking a few quiet steps to the bedroom door, he peeked in on Y/N. She was dead asleep—mouth open, arms sprawled out, chest rising and falling slowly.

“Tch.” Levi scowled. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be waking up, not me.”

Defeated, he turned toward the bathroom, muttering under his breath. As he pushed the door shut behind him, a loud, offended yowl made him freeze.
 
 
“Shit,” Levi muttered, reopening the door to find the cat squeezing through the gap.

“No. Out,” he ordered, pointing toward the door like the cat was a misbehaving soldier. The animal, tail held high and proud, sauntered inside as if it owned the place.

"Listen," Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m going to take a shit, and you’re not invited."

The cat stared at him, unmoved. “Great. You’re as stubborn as your owner.”

Scooping up the cat, he carried it out of the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

But peace was short-lived.

Scratch, scratch, scratch

.

"For fuck’s sake," Levi growled through clenched teeth, yanking the door open again. The cat waltzed back in triumphantly, jumping onto the sink and leaving tiny paw prints across the surface.
 
 
Minutes later, Levi sat on the toilet, glaring at the smug furball perched nearby. "You’re going to ruin my doors," he whispered. The cat tilted its head, feigning innocence. "I’m warning you, little shit. I brought you here. I can take you back."

—

“Levi, they’re about—”

Hange stopped mid-sentence, staring at the door in shock as Levi opened it. He stood there, not fully dressed, with a white cat perched on his shoulder like some smug, oversized parrot. "What do you want?"

Hange grinned, trying not to laugh. "If someone told me a month ago I’d see you married and... rocking a cat, I’d have said they were crazy."

Levi grunted. “He demands to be picked up.”

Hange raised an eyebrow. “Demands?”

“It’s shocking how persistent this little shit is,” Levi’s expression was deadpan as the cat headbutted him affectionately, purring and kneading at his shoulder. “I’ve seen Titans less annoying.”

Hange chuckled, reaching out to pet the fluffy troublemaker. “Aw, he likes you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Hange’s grin widened. “Anyway, what’s taking so long? We should get going.”

"I need to talk to Y/N before we head out. Don’t wait for me—I’ll catch up."

Hange’s expression turned sympathetic, though they hid it behind a crooked smile. “She didn’t wake up?”

"Heavy sleeper," Levi muttered, glancing toward the bedroom. "Apparently."

Levi sighed, sinking into his chair as the cat curled up on the seat beside him, stretching luxuriously like it owned the place. He rested his elbow on the table, drumming his fingers against the surface. His sharp eyes flicked to the bedroom door, where a narrow crack revealed her silhouette shifting slightly in sleep.

The quiet was suffocating. The ticking clock seemed louder with every second, a steady reminder of the time slipping away. He’d hoped she’d wake on her own, but clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Pushing himself up, Levi padded silently back into the bedroom. He leaned over her sleeping form, nudging her shoulder gently. "Y/N, wake up."

She groaned in response, pulling the blanket over her head like a shield against his persistence.

"Come on," Levi tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "Wake up. Have breakfast with me."

She mumbled something incoherent, her words muffled by the blanket.

"Don’t make me drag you out of bed," Levi warned, his patience thinning.

Finally, she grunted, peeking one bleary eye out from under the covers. "What’s with you tonight?" she muttered, her voice hoarse from sleep. "What time is it?"

"6:02," Levi replied flatly.

At that, Y/N turned to glare over her shoulder, her expression dripping with disdain. "Let me sleep," she hissed before burying herself back under the blanket.

Levi stood there for a moment, debating whether to let her win this round. But no—he wasn’t leaving without talking to her. He nudged her shoulder again, and after several more minutes of coaxing (and a few muttered curses from her), she finally shuffled into his office.

Now she sat at the table, a steaming cup of tea before her and a plate of white milk bread that looked barely touched. She slumped forward, her chin nearly resting on the table, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused.

Levi sipped his own tea, watching her with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You went to bed late last night?" he asked, genuinely surprised at her zombie-like state.

"No," she mumbled, blinking slowly as if even that required too much effort.

"You sleep a lot," Levi commented, his tone blunt.

Her head lifted just enough for her to shoot him a withering side-eye. "Not my fault you can’t," she retorted, her voice edged with grogginess. "And it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do, locked up in here."

Levi raised an eyebrow at her tone, but he didn’t immediately snap back. He understood the frustration simmering beneath her words, though he wasn’t the type to coddle.

‘Deep breath,’

he reminded himself. Gently, he pushed her milk tea closer to her. “Drink this. Wake up a little so we can talk.”

Y/N didn’t respond, her head dipping as if she were about to fall asleep right there at the table. She reached for her tea, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. "Can’t we, like, talk at three in the afternoon?" she muttered, shooting him a bleary side-eye before taking a small sip.

The silence that followed was broken only by the soft purring of the cat, which had moved to sprawl across her lap, its paws lazily kneading the fabric of her dress.

“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m gone,” Levi finally said, breaking the quiet. His tone was even, though careful, like he was trying to tread lightly. “I’m leaving for the day. Maybe I won’t be back until tomorrow morning. There are important meetings here—military board and investors.”

“Alright, have a nice day,” she replied flatly, almost like a broken record. She paused, then added, “What are the meetings about?”

"Work stuff," Levi replied curtly. "Nothing that concerns you."

Y/N glanced at him but didn’t press further, though her silence spoke volumes. Her gaze lingered, her thoughts unspoken but clear enough:

‘So, you’re one of those husbands.’

Levi, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on its back, his legs crossed. His free hand tapped against his teacup, the steady rhythm betraying his rare anxiety. His jaw tightened as he hesitated. He wasn’t good at this. —conversations meant to bridge gaps or soften rough edges.

‘Let’s just... be honest and work from there,’

he told himself.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you since last time,” he began, his voice firm but steady. “You shut yourself in your room after that, and then I had to leave for the Capital. I don’t want to keep dragging this out.” He paused, setting the stage for what he knew would be a difficult conversation.

"I’m—" she started, but Levi cut her off with a sharp, commanding tone. "No. I’m speaking."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her annoyance evident, but she let him continue.

“I didn’t know about the engagement,” Levi continued, his tone unwavering. “I had no intention of calling it off once I found out, but I was dragged into this just as much as you were. This wasn’t my choice either.”

"It’s hard to explain, and honestly, I don’t completely understand it myself," he admitted. "But there’s another girl—someone from the same family line as me. Our families are considered... special. Stronger than most. That’s what the government cares about. And they want more of us. You know what I mean."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed faintly as she pieced together the implications.

“It was either her or me,” he explained. “She’s too young. And, honestly… I’ve lived long enough. So, I accepted.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Levi searched for the right words to conclude, while Y/N seemed lost in her own thoughts. Her earlier grogginess had faded entirely, replaced by a sharp awareness that made the moment feel heavier.

“What I’m trying to say,” Levi added, his tone quieter now, “is that I never intended to get married. It wasn’t in my plans. You didn’t want this either. But we’re stuck together, so we might as well try to make it work. Alright?”

Her gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes no longer bleary with sleep but sharp and reflective. Levi held his breath, waiting for her response. He half-expected her to come back with some snarky comment or maybe even a spark of optimism.

Instead, she asked, “Why did you choose me?”

Levi exhaled, his honesty both a curse and a blessing. “You were the oldest,” he said simply, his words stripped of any pretense.

—

‘What the fuck did I say now?’

Levi wondered, his irritation mixing with guilt. ‘

I was honest so we could work from scratch, at least have a solid base if we end up with a couple of brats in the near future.’

But his words had clearly landed harder than he intended. Her hopeless expression stuck with him. ‘

I’ve seen cadets about to die on Wall Maria with more hope in their eyes than she had just now.’

“Oi, earth to Levi,” Hange waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him back to the present. “Hey, shorty, I need you here.”

Levi blinked and refocused, realizing he had zoned out during the endless meeting. The large wooden table in front of him was covered with maps of the island, lines marking train systems, new coastal formations, and areas for expansion. Blueprints, photographs, and important dates were scattered among stacks of documents.

"I’m just tired," Levi lied, his voice clipped.

Hange didn’t buy it for a second. "If you’re worried about your wife, don’t. You locked that door."

“I’m letting her go out tomorrow if she wants,” Levi said offhandedly. “Her post-heat is over, and it’s been nearly three weeks. Summer’s around the corner, and this office is starting to feel like a goddamn oven. I can’t keep the windows shut forever. Almost all the alphas have already gone through their ruts.”

Hange gave him a quizzical look. “You sure?”

Levi shrugged, his indifference hiding his uncertainty. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

But the weight of those words wasn’t about his sudden marital status. His eyes wandered to Zeke’s letters, filled with orders. Across the table were Kiyomi’s detailed instructions, blueprints for expansion, photos of progress, and debates among the military board about whether Historia should have a child. Levi’s jaw tightened. He pushed his chair back, rising with deliberate movements.

He approached his squad, who were enjoying their meal break at a smaller table nearby.

“Oi, listen up, brats,” Levi called out, his tone sharp enough to cut through the chatter. But as he looked at them, his brow furrowed.

‘Each day I’ve gotta look up more. For fuck’s sake, how much taller are these kids gonna get?’

Sasha beamed, food halfway to her mouth. “Did you have dinner, Captain? This is amazing!”

Levi allowed the smallest of smirks to slip through.

“What is it, sir?” Mikasa asked, her quiet voice drawing the group’s attention back to him.

Levi inhaled deeply, bracing himself. “I got married.”

The reactions were instant and varied. Jean made a face that was equal parts disbelief and disgust, like the concept itself offended him. Sasha froze, a piece of food dropping from her mouth. Armin raised his eyebrows, lips pressed tightly together, while Connie’s jaw went slack. Only Eren, lost in his own world lately, seemed unaffected, while Mikasa’s expression shifted quickly from surprise to understanding.

“So… she might be joining us for meals or something,” Levi concluded with a tired sigh, clearly done with the announcement already.

“Congratulations,” Armin said, snapping himself and the others out of their collective shock.

“Yeah, well,” Levi muttered, dismissing the sentiment. “Try to be on your best behaviour.” He fixed a pointed glare at Eren, his tone sharpening. “And take a damn shower, for once.” He felt like a tired mother scolding a rebellious teenager who’d just shouted, “It’s not a phase!” while looking like they hadn’t seen a bar of soap in weeks.

“Of course!” Sasha chirped enthusiastically, breaking the awkward tension.

But the air shifted as Mikasa interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “Floch was the one who tried to break into the room.”

Levi’s gaze flicked to her, his surprise momentary but genuine. Her new sense of loyalty didn’t go unnoticed. “Doesn’t surprise me,” he admitted, clicking his tongue in annoyance. ‘Just confirms my judgment.’

Before he could say more, Mikasa continued. “I’ll keep him in line.”

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between the two Ackermans. It wasn’t just about loyalty; it was about the unspoken weight of their shared circumstances, their duty.

“I’m counting on it,” Levi said, his tone gruff but laced with trust.

—

“I’m counting on you,” Hange murmured.
 
 
The meeting dragged on until the final toast. Glasses were poured, and voices echoed in celebration.

“You know I fucking hate social events,” Levi muttered back, his voice low and biting. “The last thing I want to do is stay here and get shitfaced with a bunch of old bastards talking about which cadets half their age they’re fucking or how grumpy their wives are.”

“I know, I know,” Hange replied, whispering urgently. “But I feel so out of place here. Come on, Lev… just go along with me.”

Their eyes met—not as commander and captain, but as friends. Both of them were thinking about the same person, the same absence that hung heavy over moments like this. The one who would’ve handled this situation with grace, who thrived in these spaces.

Erwin.

Reluctantly, Levi picked up his glass and raised it in the air, muttering as he joined the others, "For the coast expansion."

He drained the drink quickly, then reached for a cigarette, lighting it with practiced ease.

It’s going to be a long, shitty night.

—

“I’m back,” He swag the door open and announced perhaps a bit too loud for the time that it was. The saliva in his mouth was thick and stuck to his tongue in an unceremounious way.

‘I’m getting old,’

“Oi, Y/N,” he called out, his voice low but hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying again. “You awake?”

Silence.

Levi lingered there for a moment, one hand braced against the frame. He scanned the darkened room, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight spilling through a crack in the curtains. It was quiet—too quiet.

He huffed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him with a soft click. His boots scraped lightly against the wooden floor as he moved further in. It was late. Too late for anyone to greet him, but still, he’d paused by the door as if expecting her to get up and do just that. He muttered under his breath, scolding himself for the ridiculous thought.

‘Isn’t that the point of having a wife? You come home late, feeling like shit, and she greets you with love and all that bullshit.’

Levi loosened his cravat, tossing it onto the chair, then kicked off his boots with practiced ease. His movements were quiet, efficient, and deliberate, but his mind wasn’t.

There she was, sprawled out under the light sheet, one arm tucked beneath her head and the other draped protectively over the cat, who lay belly-up between her arm and her side. Both were fast asleep, undisturbed by his return.

Levi stopped in his tracks, his sharp gaze softening as it landed on her. She looked peaceful. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the moonlight catching the soft curve of her cheek and the faint messiness of her hair against the pillow.

His eyes lingered, trailing down the length of her body to her hips. The sheet clung loosely to her form, draping over her in a way that left little to the imagination. Levi caught himself staring Hange would probably throw some biological explanation but he only nodded to himself and muttered under his breath, “Nice.”

‘What the hell am I doing?’

he thought, shaking his head slightly. But the pull was there, undeniable and quietly insistent.

Almost without thinking, he took a step closer, then another, until he was at her side. The cat stretched out before curling into covering his face with his paws. Levi crouched slightly, bringing himself level with her.

For a moment, he debated whether he should wake her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say— or even what he wanted from her.

Her hair was a little wild, strands of it splayed across her face and pillow. The image of the other military board members’ complaints about their own wives popped into his mind uninvited.

‘Ugh, she’s turned into some cold bitch, I’m telling ya. Won’t even let me touch her lately.’

Levi remembered thinking,

Yeah, well, maybe it’s because your secretary sits on your lap half-naked, you bastard. I wouldn’t touch you either.

The memory made his jaw tighten. The idea of sitting in a room full of other alphas, whining about his wife, made him want to retch—or maybe that was just the alcohol. Either way, he thought, ‘

I should try, right? To be a better husband.’

Slowly, Levi leaned in. The faint scent of her hair—soft, warm, and subtly sweet, like coconut and jasmine—washed over him. It was... nice. Comforting, even.

Without overthinking it, Levi reached out, his hand brushing against her head in a careful, hesitant gesture. His fingers moved with an uncharacteristic gentleness as he let himself grow accustomed to her scent. It smelled so good, so calming, that a small, ridiculous part of him wondered if, in a rut, he might’ve purred.

Then, before he could second-guess himself, he pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to the top of her head. It wasn’t out of love—not yet—but more out of a sense of duty, a vague understanding that this was what he should be doing.

Straightening up, he nodded to himself, absurdly convinced he’d just done something monumental. His gaze drifted to the nightstand, where her ring sat. A thought struck him, one that seemed like an absolute stroke of genius in his overtired mind.

‘I’m a man who resolves problems.’

With newfound determination, Levi grabbed a spool of thread and some glue from his desk. Sitting down, he began carefully wrapping the thread around the base of the ring, reducing its size. He worked methodically, though his vision blurred slightly from exhaustion.

The task absorbed him entirely until he felt a gentle tug.

“Oi!” he barked, his voice low but sharp.

The cat had taken an interest in the thread, enthusiastically pulling at the loose end with its tiny claws. Its wide eyes gleamed with mischievous energy.

“Don’t do that,” Levi muttered, reaching to swat the thread away from the feline troublemaker. The cat, unbothered, merely stretched again before curling up smugly beside him.

Levi picked up the cat, holding it up to eye level. In his slightly intoxicated state, he stared at the feline with the seriousness of someone about to start a profound debate.

“You’re fat,” he declared, as if he and the animal—who had the mental capacity of a toddler—had some long-standing, unresolved feud. “And adopted.”

“Meow,” the cat replied, entirely unbothered.

Levi’s expression didn’t falter. “And your balls are cut off,” he added smugly, a hint of triumph in his tone. “So, I’m winning.”

His eyes squinted as he looked at the cat, and when the animal tilted its head, he mimicked the movement. Groaning complaints filled the air as the cat wanted to be put down already but Levi held it closer to his face. The pink paw pads pressed against Levi’s face, shoving him away.

“Meowww,” the cat protested. But unlike all the previous insults, Levi rubbed his face against the animal, enjoying the softness.

In his drunken state, his words slurred together. “How the fuck do you do it?” he asked, almost offended. “You smell good even though you clean your whole body with the same tongue you use to clean your asshole.”

The cat kept complaining, kicking at Levi until he finally set it back down.

Now, with conviction, he kept going with his previous task. Once he thought his mission was a complete success, Levi admired the ring resting between his fingers, pride swelling in his chest. “See? Told you I could do it,” he mumbled, smirking as he observed his creation. He turned to look at the cat, which had climbed back on top of his desk, as if challenging his capabilities. “I’m such a good husband,” he declared as the ring diameter had reduced with the thread.

But when morning came and the sun’s harsh rays pierced through the room, waking him with a killer hangover, Levi stared at the ring in disbelief and second-hand embarrassment. It felt like the actions of a stranger, not his own.

“Why the fuck did I do that?” he muttered.

One hand rose to his face, shielding his features as he groaned—partly from the hangover, partly from sheer embarrassment. “If the ring was shitty before, now it’s even worse,” he muttered.

It was almost mid-morning, far too late by Levi’s standards. He reeked of alcohol, his hair was a disheveled mess, and he desperately needed a shave. The room’s temperature crept higher with each passing minute, and he was all too aware it was going to be an unbearably hot day.

“Levi?” her voice startled him, pulling him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes.

“Do you know why Clauwsy has glue in his fur?” she asked, holding the cat in one arm while using the other to carefully work a brush through the feline’s tangled fur. Levi didn’t respond—just let out a slow, resigned sigh.

“Are you alright? It’s late for you to still be here,” she added, her tone soft but curious.

Levi dragged himself out of bed with a low grunt, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve got the morning off,” he mumbled, heading toward the basin to splash some cold water on his face. The sharp chill hit his skin, waking him up just enough to feel even more miserable about the state he was in.

She was still working on the cat’s fur, her expression somewhere between focused and annoyed. “Good. You look like you need it,” she remarked, glancing over at him briefly.

Levi grabbed a towel, drying his face. “Yeah, I got that part,” he muttered. As he turned back toward the room, he noticed her scanning the nightstand, then the desk.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, his voice low but curious.

“My ring,” she replied, her tone sharp with frustration. “I’ve looked everywhere for it, but I can’t find it. Have you seen it?”

Levi froze for a moment, his hand gripping the towel tighter. ‘

Shit,’

he thought, glancing toward the drawer where he’d stashed the poorly-repaired ring last night.

“I... uh...” He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to the desk. Reaching inside the drawer, he pulled out the ring, now wrapped in lumpy, uneven thread with spots of glue visible along the edges. He hesitated before handing it to her, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. “Here.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to clear displeasure as she took the ring from his hand. She turned it over, inspecting the botched craftsmanship. “What… what is this?” she asked, holding it up like it might bite her.

Levi scratched the back of his neck, his face tinged with a rare hint of embarrassment. “It didn’t fit you properly,” he mumbled, barely audible. “Thought I’d, uh, fix it.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Fix it?” she repeated, her voice heavy with disbelief.

Before she could even argue, Levi cleared his throat, clearly steering the conversation in a different direction. “You can go out now,” he said casually, his tone flat, but his words immediately caught her attention.

“Wait, really?” Her face lit up like a thousand stars, a grin spreading wide across her lips.

“Yes, but you gotta listen—”

Before he could finish, she was already walking toward the door, her excitement propelling her forward.

Levi’s reflexes were faster. His arm shot out, easily catching her by the wrist and tugging her back to his side. “Oi, oi, oi, hold up, girly,” he said, the nickname slipping out in his usual blunt tone.

Her smile faltered for a split second, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

‘What did he just call me?’

she thought, her cheeks warming slightly with a mix of embarrassment and indignation.

“I said,” Levi continued, his voice low and deliberate, “you gotta listen up. The world isn’t going anywhere.”

But her gaze betrayed her impatience, darting back to the door as if it might disappear at any second. The urgency in her expression was almost comical, and it made Levi click his tongue in irritation. Without warning, he gripped her cheeks firmly, forcing her to look at him.

“Oi, pay attention,” he said, his sharp grey eyes locking with hers. “If you don’t listen, I’m locking the door again like I did for the past three weeks. And then? Bye-bye going out.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she pouted, a small noise of protest escaping her lips. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her tone soft and sheepish as her bottom lip jutted out slightly.

Levi exhaled heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The reluctance was evident in the way his shoulders tensed, but he was someone who preferred ripping the bandage off. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it,” he began, his tone measured but firm. “This is a military headquarters. Everyone here is mostly betas and alphas.”

Her brows furrowed, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. “Okay... and?”

Levi looked away for a moment, as if debating how blunt he should be. His jaw tightened before he turned back to her. “Most of the alphas here haven’t seen a pretty girl in dresses in a long while, wayless an omega.” His voice was calm, but the weight of his words hung in the air like a warning.

Her expression immediately shifted, offense flashing across her face. “That’s not my fault!” she shot back, her arms crossing defensively over her chest.

“I fucking know,” Levi replied flatly, his tone unchanging. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. And you should take precautions.” He paused, letting his words sink in, before continuing. “This is a working place. People are working here. Do not disturb the peace.”

She stared at him, her indignation clear in the way her lips pressed into a thin line. “So, what, you’re saying I’ll be a distraction just by existing?”

Levi rubbed his temples, already regretting bringing this up. “Look, I’m not saying it’s fair, and I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just telling you how it is. Don’t be stupid, and don’t do or wear anything that’ll drag too much attention to yourself while I’m not around.”

She looked away, her jaw tightening, but she stayed silent. The mixture of embarrassment and frustration on her face didn’t escape his notice. Levi sighed, his voice softening just a touch. “If some asshole does something inappropriate, you tell me, and I’ll handle it. But I need to work, and if you want to walk around here unclaimed, you’ve gotta be sharp.”

Her shoulders eased slightly, though she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. After a moment of silence, she gave a small, reluctant nod. “Alright,” she muttered, her voice quieter than before.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added, his tone curt as he wrapped up the conversation.

Somehow, that made her chuckle softly, the sound light and unexpected. Levi raised an eyebrow in silent question, his expression asking what she found so funny.

“So I don’t wear heels?” she teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Levi shot her a deadpan look, unimpressed. “Don’t get cocky with me,” he said flatly.

“Good.” Levi stepped back, satisfied with her response, though the tension in the air lingered. He wasn’t the type to coddle, and he knew his approach wasn’t exactly gentle, but he also wasn’t going to sugarcoat reality. “You can go,” he added after a pause, his tone lighter. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

With a loud sigh, he turned to prepare for training. Grabbing his gear, he muttered to himself, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” The words felt hollow even as he thought them, a weak attempt to reassure himself.

—

“Good morning!” Hange paused mid-step, observing the scene from what they considered a safe distance, a piece of bread dangling from their mouth—a quick breakfast snatched during their busy schedule. Their curious eyes gleamed as they took in the unfolding interaction. “M-Morning?” The ginger-haired girl blinked in confusion, her gaze shifting between her companion and the new arrival—a girl dressed in civilian clothes, cradling a cat in her arms. “Well, good morning indeed,” the male soldier beside her murmured, almost entranced. His dazed admiration earned him a sharp nudge in the ribs from the female soldier next to him, her frown deep enough to scold him silently. “Excuse me, but where can I find something to eat?” Y/N asked, her cheerful voice cutting through the tension. Her bright smile seemed to radiate warmth, and both cadets found themselves blushing slightly as her delicate perfume drifted their way. Both, despite their gender, unmistakable alphas. “Oh, it’s on the bottom floor. The biggest two doors—you can’t miss them. They’re probably wide open,” the ginger-haired girl explained hurriedly, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone. “Thank you, you’re very sweet,” Y/N replied, her smile widening. “And you smell very sweet to—I mean, you’re very sweet too!” the girl stammered, her face turning beet red as she fumbled to recover. Her companion couldn’t hold back a chuckle, clearly amused by her flustered state. “W-who… who are you?” the ginger-haired girl managed, her embarrassed smile giving way to a mix of curiosity and unease. Without hesitation and with the same bright, welcoming smile, Y/N answered, “I’m Captain Levi’s wife.” Both cadets froze, their eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as they processed her words. “Ah…” they whispered in stunned unison. “Nice to meet you! See you around!” Y/N waved enthusiastically before strolling off, leaving the two cadets to exchange wide-eyed glances. Slowly, almost dazedly, they lifted their hands to wave back. As Y/N’s voice echoed down the corridor, greeting yet another group of cadets with a cheerful, “Hi, good morning!” the trio of male soldiers glanced at each other before responding awkwardly, “Good morning…” Their words were followed by stifled chuckles as they watched her pass. “Dear Sheena…” Hange muttered, biting back a laugh as they observed from their hidden vantage point. Finally, they gave in, shaking with quiet laughter. “God, Levi’s never going to unlock that door again.” They paused, weighing their options. “Should I tell him?” A mischievous grin spread across their face as they snorted, “No fucking way. Let him find out himself.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I’m taking a shower,” he had said. “If you want to use the bathroom, now’s the time.”

He didn’t wait for a response, stepping into the bathroom. The sticky feeling of his clothes clinging to his body was driving him insane, and he needed relief. The day was unexpectedly warm—not scorching, but the first strong days of spring always seemed to carry an extra weight.

“Baby, you want breakfast too?” her voice floated through the door just as he bent down to roll off the black trousers of his new uniform. He paused for a moment, the words catching him off guard.

Something about it felt... off.  The strange limbo they were in. It was the whole situation. He wasn’t usually one to get prudish or shy about his body—expeditions and common showers had long since stripped away any modesty. But as he tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and stood naked in the bathroom, her voice came again, faint but clear.

“No, baby, get down from there!”

He turned his head toward the door instinctively, a strange sense of restraint settling over him. Maybe it was because all the previous times he’d showered over the past three weeks, she’d been asleep. Even the night she arrived, she’d gone to bed before he’d had the chance to clean up.

‘This is so fucking awkward,’

he thought, turning on the water and stepping under the spray. He’d been naked in far less private settings —hell, he’d stripped down and washed off in front of squads of men during expeditions without a second thought.

‘Yeah, but nobody there was supposed to get knocked up by me.’

He sighed, running his hands through his hair as the water cascaded down his body. That was the real difference, wasn’t it? On expeditions, privacy was a luxury, but the situation had always been purely practical. Now, the person in the next room wasn’t just some comrade. She was supposed to be

intimate

enough to make moments like this normal—but they weren’t. Not yet, at least.

As he lathered soap across his skin, his thoughts spiraled further. ‘

It’s weird middle ground, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be close enough for her to be fine with me taking a shower while she’s awake, but not close enough to share those—what do you call it—quiet, personal moments.

The thought didn’t stop him from moving through his routine. By now, the soap was rinsed off, and he stood over the sink, ready to shave. The sharp blade of his razor rested in his hand as he straightened up, catching his reflection in the slightly fogged mirror. His gaze drifted across the room as if searching for memories outside his body.

His thoughts shifted, unbidden. ‘

Did I ever go raw before this?’

he wondered, the thought creeping in before he could stop it. The memory of Kenny’s crude “lessons” in life played in his mind, and he frowned.

‘Only thing that bastard ever taught me besides killing—wrap it up.’

He snorted faintly at the absurdity of it.

He cleaned the razor, his brow furrowed. ‘

How many loads does it take to secure a pregnancy, anyway? That’s gotta mess with a guy’s head, constantly thinking about that. And if you’re in heat—’

His hand froze mid-motion.

‘And when you’re in heat… is it all doggy style all the time because it’s the “biologically optimal” thing to do? Can you switch it up?’

He let out a long breath, shaking his head slowly as he finished shaving. “I should not be thinking about this on a Wednesday morning at 10 a.m. before a meeting,” he muttered to himself, rinsing the blade one last time.

His mind, however, didn’t seem to get the memo. ‘

But seriously, though... does it always have to be on fours? I mean, I like on all fours, but… a whole week of that? Her knees, dude.’

Finally, he dried off, pulled on a clean shirt, and opened the door.

“What took you so long?” she asked, her head tilting slightly as she looked up at him.

“Nothing,” he replied curtly.

“It’s very warm today,” she commented, seemingly trying to maintain some level of conversation with the man who was, supposedly, her husband. “Is it always this warm in the south?”

“Mhm.” Levi only hummed in response, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders before sitting on the couch to pull his boots back on.

“Breakfast?” she asked again, a cat cradled in her arms as she looked at him.

“No,” he replied curtly. His head was killing him, and just the thought of food made his stomach churn. He wasn’t paying much attention—just going through his usual morning routine—until he tried brushing off the white cat hairs stubbornly clinging to his black trousers.

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue in irritation.

“Did you brush the cat today?” he asked, finally glancing back at her.

But the complaint died in the back of his throat when he saw her reflection in the fogged-up bathroom mirror, struggling to put on a pair of earrings.

A pretty sundress, hair braided half-up, half-down, long lashes accentuated by mascara.

“Where are you going all dolled up?”

She stilled for a moment, meeting his eyes in the mirror before turning to face him fully. “You just said I could go out.”

‘And everything I said after that must have gone in one ear and out the other.’

“I want to make a good impression on your squad,” she added before turning back to her reflection, resuming her struggle with the earrings.

Levi pressed his lips into a thin line, giving it a second thought. He wasn’t the type to regret his decisions, but suddenly, this one didn’t seem like the best idea.

“My squad barely owns soap bars,” he muttered under his breath. A good first impression felt like overkill considering the social standards of his cadets—not that he held any grudge against them.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, fingers laced together as he pondered it.

“Maybe you should wait until I come back this evening.”

That snapped her out of it instantly.

“What?!” She rushed over to him, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You just said I could go out!”

The deep frown, the clenched teeth, the frustration practically radiating off her—it was all clearly meant to intimidate him. It didn’t.

“I’m just saying, wait a couple more hours. Then I’ll walk you around myself.”

She took a step back, voice lowering into something much colder.

“You just said it,” she whispered, anger laced with unmistakable hurt.

‘Oh... alright, she’s actually upset for real.’

Levi sighed through his nose, watching how quickly her disappointment turned into something sharp, something like resentment.

“Fine,” he relented, exhaling as he sat back. “Just… be careful.”

—

“I mean... what’s the worst thing that could happen?” Levi said, recounting his morning as if it were some kind of story.

“Shhh, talk quieter. My head is killing me,” Hange groaned, sprawled limply in his desk chair, their eyes shielded by a cold, wet towel. “I’m getting old… Remember how we used to laugh at Erwin coming back from those meetings completely wasted? Now look at us—we’re no better.”

“Excuse me, I’ve never stolen anyone’s underwear while drunk… or high, or both,” Levi shot back, defending his honor as if that cleared him of all other debauchery. He leaned back in his chair, voice deadpan. “I don’t remember half of what I did last night, and the other half’s just a blur. But it wasn’t that bad.”

Hange snorted, shifting the towel slightly to make room for their smirk. “You used to be this famous thug, and now you can’t handle one night of alcohol and… whatever the hell it was they brought for us to smoke. You’ve lost your edge, Captain.”

Levi rested his head against the cool surface of the table, reaching for his tea cup without lifting his gaze. “I’m a married man now. That life of bad habits is long behind me.”

That earned a sharp laugh from Hange, who had to readjust the towel when it slid halfway down their face. “You got married three weeks ago, asshole.”

Finally deciding to take a sip from his cup, Levi straightened just enough to lift it to his lips—only to immediately grimace in disgust. “This is green tea.”

“Yeah... my liver wouldn’t survive black tea today,” Hange muttered, not bothering to move the towel from their face. Then, as if the thought had just struck them, they added, “If you have a problem with it, win the elections and become Commander.”

Levi scoffed. “Only an idiot would want to be Commander.”

“Gee, thanks,” Hange deadpanned. “What are you? One of those people whose whole personality revolves around their partner?”

“No,” Levi replied curly, “But it’s my only excuse,”

—

Double-checking in the mirror, she whispered to herself, “Good first impressions.” A small nod of encouragement. “Scouts are heads of state now, so good first impressions.”

She pinched her cheeks lightly, giving them a subtle rosy flush, and hummed in approval. But just as she was about to turn away, her nose wrinkled at something in the air. Slowly pivoting on her heels, her eyes landed on the laundry basket.

‘It tickles

,’ she thought, scrunching her nose as if to shake off the feeling. ‘

Silly

.’ She gave her head the smallest shake.

Decisive steps carried her to the office door, excitement bubbling in her chest. Her hand reached for the knob—the same one she had reached for on her first morning here. A firm pull, and it clicked open with ease. The door shifted just a few centimeters, separating from the frame, but she didn’t step through.

She stood still.

Her eyes remained locked on her reflection in the gilded surface.

"Be careful." Levi’s voice echoed in her head.

The freedom she had wanted so badly was now hers for the taking, yet it filled her with hesitation.

She rocked her weight from one foot to the other, lips pressed together before glancing to her right—toward the open bathroom door.

‘I mean… better safe than sorry, right?’

Back inside the tiled room, she lifted the wicker lid of the laundry basket.

‘My friends did this when we were teens. Their parents got so mad…’

Her fingers grasped the light grey shirt Levi had worn the entire previous day—and slept in.

‘I just have to rub my neck against it a little…’

A memory surfaced. Her friends sneaking around at parties, brushing up against alphas, pressing their necks together. It wasn’t claiming, but it was

something

back then. And maybe now, it could be

something

that helped her, too.

‘I remember Die was working as a cadet… we shared a kiss through the staircase fence.’

The thought brought the ghost of a smile to her lips, brief and bittersweet.

‘He smelled nice… I remember that.’

With more doubts than certainties, she slowly lifted the shirt to her face, pressing the collar against her nose as she took a deep, slow breath. Her eyes fluttered shut, trying to gauge her body’s reaction to it.

First impression? The same as when she first smelled his jacket.

Strong. ‘

Musky, even’

But then—almost instinctively—her body craved more. Another breath. Then another. And before she realized what she was doing, she was rubbing the fabric against her skin, pressing it to her neck in slow, deliberate motions, as if massaging the scent into her skin, soothing in a way she hadn’t expected.

A low, involuntary purr rumbled in her throat.

Her eyes shot open in horror.

She let go of the shirt like it had burned her, watching as it dropped back into the basket.

Her breath hitched, blood rushing to her cheeks as she stood there, frozen in place.

‘Oh god… why did I do that?!’

Moving robotically, she walked to the couch and sat down, staring in silent mortification. The cat kneading a pillow in the corner was swiftly scooped up as she muttered to it in despair,

“I just did that… to his shirt?! What is wrong with me?!”

The cat bumped its head against her chin in response.

She pushed the animal down with a huff. “…Though, I guess… he’s the only man I’m allowed to react like that for, so… it’s not that bad. Right?”

“Meow.”

Newfound conviction in her step, she strode toward the door, this time with more confidence.

The moment she opened it, she inhaled deeply—ready to embrace the fresh air.

Only to immediately recoil.

“Ugh…” she groaned, grimacing.

Levi’s scent—his natural musk mixed with aftershave, deodorant, and cologne—had been intoxicating. But

this

? The thick, cloying stench of a hundred alphas all packed together, their scents mingling like scrambled eggs?

Absolutely disgusting.

“Never mind.” She shook her head violently, as if trying to physically rid herself of the sensory assault. “Let’s go for a walk!”

She barely got two steps before the soft patter of tiny paws followed her.

She turned, spotting her cat trotting after her with eager strides.

“Aww, sweetie! You wanna come too?”

Door locked, cat in arms—she was ready for her stroll.

With the window open, she took in a slow, deep breath, savoring the fresh forest air. The scent of pine and linden soothed her nose, washing away the lingering stench from earlier. The sky stretched bright and blue, the warmth of the sun kissing her skin.

Looking down from the window frame, she spotted two cadets staring up at her, confusion written all over their faces.

“Morning!” she chirped, all too pleased to be out, to stretch her legs, to breathe. “Beautiful day, innit?”

The two teens exchanged glances before nodding—slowly.

“Uh-huh…”

Unbothered, she continued her stroll. “Let’s get stuff for a picnic!”

Following the directions given by another cadet, she eventually reached a set of doors—what she assumed was the mess hall.

To her surprise, it was mostly empty, save for a few scattered cadets who lifted their heads at the sound of her entrance. Their brows furrowed, confusion evident.

“Hi,” she greeted, waving. “Morning! The kitchen?”

One of them pointed toward the far end of the room.

“Thank you~” she chimed before heading off.

But before she could get far—

“Excuse me, girl?”

She turned on her heel, blinking as a cadet stood from one of the benches.

“Civilians aren’t allowed to wander around,” he said, eyeing her warily. “If you’re looking for someone, please wait here.”

“Oh! No, no,” she insisted, waving her hands. “I’m Captain Levi’s wife. I live here.”

Silence.

The loudest silence she had ever heard.

“…See ya!” she added before walking off.

—

“We should be training,” Eren muttered, biting into an apple. “Not doing kitchen duties.”

“Come on, Captain Levi hardly ever cancels morning drills. Yesterday’s after-hours meeting must’ve been intense,” Armin reasoned. “They probably discussed something incredibly serious if they were up so late.”

“Yeah, like that train they want us to build, and—”

“A kitty!”

Jean paused mid-peel, turning to Mikasa’s rare display of enthusiasm. “Yes, a kitty… Wait, a

kitty

?”

Mikasa had already abandoned the conversation, beelining toward Y/N with bright, wide eyes locked onto the oversized cat in her arms.

“Oh, hi,” Y/N greeted, a bit caught off guard as the raven-haired girl approached. “He’s friendly.”

“Can I pick him up?”

“Sure.”

Mikasa carefully took the enormous feline, cradling him against her chest with unexpected gentleness.

Meanwhile, Sasha and Jean locked eyes across the kitchen, communicating through sheer willpower alone:

It’s her!

The only two in the squad who had actually seen Y/N before, now confirmed.

“I always wanted a cat,” Mikasa murmured, stroking the soft fur with genuine delight. “It was my childhood dream…” She lifted Claws slightly, marveling. “He’s so big.”

Y/N smiled at the sight but soon noticed something odd—everyone else in the room was staring at her.

She turned slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of their collective gaze.

“Uh… hi?” she offered with a hesitant grimace.

Jean straightened up, puffing his chest out slightly. “We’re Captain Levi’s Special Operations Squad,” he announced, the title rolling off his tongue with pride, as if it should impress her.

Sasha muttered, “Are you

flexing

?”

But before Jean could retort, Y/N cut in, “Oh, you’re Levi’s kids.”

Silence.

Jean and Connie visibly deflated, their supposed prestigious position reduced to children in an instant.

“Yes, hi—I’m Armin,” the blond quickly stepped forward, almost extending a hand before deciding against it.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” she replied.

“Yes. We know.”

The awkwardness thickened as she realized they all knew who she was, but she had no idea about them.

“I know you,” Y/N suddenly blurted. “You’re the hallway girl!”

“Yeah! Sasha!” The brunette grinned. “They didn’t believe me when I said I saw you—you vanished into thin air!”

Y/N chuckled. “Levi was in a hurry.”

Armin smirked but quickly winced when Mikasa subtly nudged him, as if to keep him from saying anything else.

“And you,” Y/N continued, shifting her gaze, “you’re the training ground boy. You dropped the equipment.”

Laughter erupted from Connie and Sasha as Jean clenched his jaw, looking deeply unamused.

“…Yeah. Jean.”

Y/N’s attention drifted, taking in the massive industrial kitchen. “I was actually wondering—who do I ask for a tea?”

The room fell silent. The squad exchanged glances before, hesitantly, Jean raised his hand like a student answering a question.

“I… could make one?”

Y/N beamed. “Aw, thank you!”

Jean blinked. “…Just, uh… give me a sec.”

“So… do I have to make the damn tea or not?” Jean whispered, his voice barely audible as the group huddled together in a loose circle of conspiracy, all while Y/N inspected the kitchen behind them.

Armin, glancing over his shoulder at her with furrowed brows, was the first to break the silence. “I’ve heard that in the MPs, cadets are assigned mundane tasks for their superiors, like picking up their dry cleaning. Maybe she thinks that’s how the Scouts operate too.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time talking about the MPs lately, huh, Armin?” Connie teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Armin flushed crimson, his brows knitting together in defense. “What? What do you mean?”

“You know what we mean,” Sasha chimed in, barely stifling a laugh.

Jean rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You’re all missing the point. Do I make the damn tea or not?”

“No,” Eren said flatly, as if the answer were obvious. “Maybe the MPs do this babysitting crap, but we don’t. We’re not the Military Police, and we’re definitely not her personal servants. Just tell her to make her own damn tea.”

“Maybe she just isn’t used to our kitchen,” Mikasa offered, her tone more considerate as she glanced at Y/N.

“Let’s just tell her—very subtly—”

Armin’s attempt at diplomacy was cut off by Jean, who groaned loudly. “That’s not what I mean! I’m asking what the chain of command is when a wife shows up!”

The Shiganshina trio collectively raised an eyebrow, their faces a mixture of disbelief and judgment.

“What chain of command?” Eren asked, crossing his arms. “She’s not a soldier. She doesn’t give us orders.”

Jean snorted. “Yeah, well, maybe you don’t remember how households work, but my dad never had the last word in our house—ever.”

Armin placed a calming hand on Eren, who looked ready to take offense. “Jean, come on,” Armin said gently, though his expression clearly showed he thought the question was absurd.

“No, no, Horse Face is right,”

Jean’s brief moment of smug satisfaction was immediately shattered. “OI! Watch it, potato brain!”

Ignoring him, Connie continued, “Yeah, my dad couldn’t do anything without asking my mom first. It was always, ‘Did you ask your mother?’ or ‘What does your mother say?’ And nine times out of ten, my mom said no.”

Sasha chimed in, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, my dad would act like he was in charge, but if my mom caught wind of something she didn’t like, he was dead meat.”

Mikasa, listening quietly, finally murmured, “I remember... my mom was the one who made the decisions too.”

Jean gestured wildly toward Sasha and Connie. “Exactly what I’m saying! If Captain Levi got married and now she’s the one giving him the dead-eye stare when she doesn’t like his decisions, where does that put her in the chain of command? Who’s higher in the chain of command: him or her?”

“Her.”

“Him.”

“Captain Levi isn’t our dad, though,” Eren muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the logic. “Men are still the head of the house, so he’s still in charge. She’s not our boss.”

“But if she gets mad and complains to Captain Levi, and he takes it out on us, then what?” Sasha pointed out. “We’re screwed either way.”

“Exactly,” Armin said, nodding gravely. “If we don’t do what she wants, she’ll complain, and Captain Levi will get pissed. If we don’t follow his orders, he’ll punish us directly. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

The group fell silent, clearly no closer to an agreement. Mikasa broke the tension with a hesitant question. “So… would that mean if Commander Erwin got married, his wife would have outrank all of us?”

Connie snickered. “Why not Commander Hange’s imaginary wife instead?”

“Be realistic,” Eren muttered.

As their bickering continued, Y/N stood by, watching them with growing confusion.

‘Maybe they’re busy working,’

she thought, eyeing the kettle that no one had touched.

‘Levi said not to interrupt them while they’re working.’

“Don’t worry about it, guys,” she finally announced. “I’ll just go for a walk instead.”

The group froze. Six pairs of eyes turned toward her in unison, panic flashing across their faces. Armin forced a sympathetic smile. “W-Where are you going?”

Y/N blinked, startled by their sudden interest. “I thought I’d take a stroll in the forest…”

Back in their circle, the squad exchanged panicked glances. One by one, they shifted closer to the kitchen door, as if preparing to block her path. Jean, quick on his feet, plastered on a bright smile and stepped in front of her.

“Eh?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Haha, look at the time!” Jean said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t you stay here for a little while longer?”

“I want to go out,” she insisted, her brow furrowing as she tried to move past him. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“Uh, maybe… maybe stay here while we, um…” Sasha stammered, desperately searching for the right words.

Y/N’s eyes widened as her unease turned into alarm. “Are you... are you kidnapping me?”

“No, no, no!” they all shouted in unison, waving their hands in frantic denial.

“You’re not kidnapped,” Armin assured her, his sweet smile doing little to ease her nerves. “You’re just... um... confined for now.”

Her face twisted into horror. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, NOT AGAIN!”

—

When Hange walked back into the office, Levi was already up, slamming a stack of papers together.

“Leaving so early?”

“Yeah. I should really go train the brats after lunch.”

The only brown eye not covered lingered on him, their lips twitching as they held back a remark. Hange, leaning back in their chair with an all-too-knowing smirk, tilted their head. “Oh sure, I bet the fresh air will help with the headache.”

Levi exhaled sharply, unconvinced. Tucking the papers under his arm, he turned to leave—only to freeze at the door. Slowly, he turned back, narrowing his eyes as Hange spun lazily in their chair, still smirking.

“…What?”

“I said absolutely nothing.”

His squinted in suspicion. “You’re so fucking weird.”

The moment he stepped outside, something felt… off.

The usual background noise of cadets moving between tasks was there, but underneath it, hushed murmurs—giggling.

Giggling.

Levi’s pace slowed as he glanced around. Small groups of soldiers spoke among themselves, some pressing hands to their mouths, others grinning. But what truly set his nerves on edge was what happened when they noticed him.

Suddenly, as if on cue, they snapped to attention and beamed.

“Good morning, Captain!”

A perfectly polite, perfectly innocent greeting.

Too innocent.

“Morning,” he replied curtly. Levi narrowed his eyes but kept walking, his boots clicking sharply against the stone path.

The tension in his gut twisted tighter when he passed another group and, again, the moment they saw him—bright smiles, too chipper, too eager.

Something was going on.

His grip flexed at his sides, his headache worsening as he rounded the corner toward the mess hall. And then—

“Good morning, sir!”

He barely glanced at the cadet who greeted him, about to walk past when—

“Your wife is very cute, sir.”

Levi stopped.

The air suddenly felt much heavier.

His eyes flickered to the girl, who gave him an innocent, approving nod before carrying on, completely unaware that she had just turned his entire morning into a waking nightmare.

A slow, sinking realization crept up his spine.

The whispers. The giggles. The weird smiling.

"For fuck’s sake..." Levi whispered, raising a hand to his face, already feeling the embarrassment creeping in.

Her trail wasn’t hard to follow—he just had to go wherever the biggest crowd had gathered. Sure enough, he found them in the kitchen, the one place most cadets usually avoided to escape extra duties. Yet, now, everyone was hanging around like it was the goddamn market square.

"Don’t you all have something better to do?" Levi spat, and like cockroaches when the light comes on, they scrambled, trying to make themselves scarce before they got dragged into something. "Or do I need to start handing out tasks?"

A few murmured "No, sir," their heads ducking, backs curving as if making themselves smaller would save them from his wrath.

Then, from the other side of the door—

"HE SAID I COULD GO OUT!"

A piercing scream from Y/N.

Levi’s brows twitched as he marched over, shoving the door open. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Levi!" "Captain!"

The second he stepped in, everyone started talking at once, loudly, voices overlapping and stabbing at his already-pounding head.

Levi clenched his jaw. "Enough." His voice came out sharp, cold.

Silence fell instantly.

"They’re forcing me to stay here!" Y/N snapped, pointing at his squad. "They kidnapped me!"

Slowly, Levi turned his attention to his subordinates and muttered under his breath, "What part of 'act normal and behave' did you not understand?"

"She wants to go into the forest alone," Jean cut in, standing his ground.

That successfully shifted Levi’s attention.

"Get to the training grounds," he ordered, not bothering to look back at them. "I’ll be there in a minute."

The squad practically bolted, shutting the door behind them.

Now alone with her, Levi exhaled through his nose. Levi’s arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze locked onto her as she stood defiantly before him.

“I did absolutely nothing wrong,” she huffed.

“Oh yeah?” Levi drawled, his expression unreadable “Then why the hell is the entire regiment gathered outside?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe they’ve got nothing better to do? I just greeted people in the hallways, that’s not illegal. What, saying hello is a crime now?”

Levi exhaled sharply, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t need to be overly friendly.”

“Well, excuse my good manners!”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “You already went out. You can go back to the office.”

“I’m not doing that,” she folded her arms stubbornly. “I want to go for a walk.”

His frown deepened. “You’re not going into the forest.” He sighed, his patience nearing its breaking point.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, maybe wolves?” he deadpanned. “Perhaps people, thieves? You’re going to get lost.”

“Well, I’ll stay close by.”

Levi let out a scoff. “We use the forest for training with the 3DMG. We don’t live in the middle of it for pleasure. If someone drops a weapon or knocks off and you get hurt, it’s on me. I told you—this is a place where people are working.”

Her jaw clenched. “I don’t want to be closed up in that room anymore.”

He gave her a look, calm but firm. "Open a window."

“Open a—?! Levi, I’m not a prisoner!” she snapped, frustration boiling over.

“Never said you were,” he shot back. “But this ain’t a damn vacation spot either.”

She groaned, rubbing her temples. Then, as if on cue, Claws meowed from her arms, reminding Levi of another problem.

“And don’t take the cat out without a leash,” he added. “It’s gonna get lost, and guess what? The idiot who’ll have to go looking for it in the forest will be me.”

“He’s not gonna run off,” she insisted.

Levi ignored that. “Go back to the office and—I don’t know, paint something.”

She let out a short, disbelieving laugh, eyes burning with indignation. “I’m not a little girl you can just set back to colouring books, Levi!”

He was already opening his mouth for another snarky retort when something made him pause. His nose twitched slightly. It caught him so off guard to catch a whiff of her scent that all the arguments disappeared.

How had it ended up with him standing there, watching the cadets train with the 3DMG while she sat on a bench outside, having lunch? He had no idea.

"You’re not hungry?"

"I grabbed something at work," he replied, his eyes still glued to the training.

She passed him her meal, her hand covering her mouth a little before asking, "What are you doing?"

"Watching them train."

Her eyes shifted to the trees, watching the cadets swing through them with ease. "That’s all?" she asked, confused.

Levi crossed his arms and took a deep breath. "I watch their patterns and correct them."

"Ah," she sighed in understanding. "So, you’re good at that?"

"At 3DMG?" Levi raised an eyebrow as if it wasn’t obvious. She hummed a response. "Yeah, a little."

Y/N accepted this without giving it much thought, continuing with her art, cleaning her hands every so often to avoid staining the sketch. "Which one is Eren?"

He wasn’t used to the chitchat during work, so it threw him off each time she spoke. "The brunette. Why?"

"I read about him in the newspapers," Y/N replied, raising her attention from her work to compare her pencil strokes. She squinted at it for a moment. "I also read about you torturing someone. It didn’t do you any favours."

"Your newspapers didn’t mention the MPs covering up the real monarchy?"

"No, my parents didn’t buy that kind of newspaper."

Her answer made him scoff, entertained, realizing she probably meant it without any opposition to the new head of power.

He tried following her gaze, wondering what she was working on so intently. But he couldn’t make sense of it. "What are you drawing?" Levi tilted back to catch a glimpse of the paper.

Without a hint of hesitation, she turned her sketchbook around to show him. "You."

Levi froze in horror, a cringe creeping up his spine.

"Don’t fucking draw me."

"Why not? You have a good side profile."

"Draw something else. You’ve got the whole fucking forest." Levi insisted, but when he saw her uninterested continuation, he grabbed the pencil from her hand.

"Hey!" she pouted. "Give it back."

"Maybe you should go back to the office. Plenty of pencils there," Levi shot, hoping to put an end to this nonsense of her hanging around outside.

There was a brief silence before she stood up. "Fine… but only because I’m getting sunburned." She reached down, picking up the cat that had been wandering around on a leash. "I’m taking the baby." Her tone made it sound like they were in the middle of a divorce settlement, negotiating custody.

"Better for me."

As the sun dipped lower and training came to an end, Levi took the opportunity to address the cadets. "When I tell you to do something, just do it. If she tries anything, I’ll handle it. Don’t get involved."

They all nodded slowly, though Connie hesitantly raised a hand.

Levi exhaled sharply. "What?"

Armin shook his head, silently warning Connie to drop it, but the he didn’t take the hint. "We were just… a bit confused."

Levi’s patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Confused about what?"

"Just drop it, dude," Jean whispered.

But under the captain’s intense stare, there was no backing out now. Connie swallowed hard. "About… who has the final say."

Levi processed the words, taking a slow moment to let the implication sink in. Then, his voice carried loud and clear: "Raise your hand if you think she’s in charge."

Shakily, Sasha and Connie obeyed. After a sharp kick from Eren, Jean reluctantly raised his hand too, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

They all avoided Levi’s dead-eyed stare, suddenly finding the gravel beneath their boots fascinating.

Levi let the silence drag before finally speaking, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why don’t the three of you give me twenty push-ups to help jog your memory on who’s actually in charge?"

Groans of protest echoed through the training grounds, the evening sky now tinged with warm tangerine light.

Eren smirked proudly at Armin, as if they had somehow passed some kind of test. Levi glanced at them. "And the three of you who didn’t stop this bullshit? Another twenty."

"Oh, fuck me," they all muttered under their breath.

—

That night, Levi was washing his face at the sink when he caught movement in the doorway. He looked up, eyes meeting hers in the reflection. "What?"

"I want to go to Trost the day after tomorrow."

Levi frowned, still bent over the sink, before slowly straightening up. "And who told you I was going to Trost?"

"The cadets."

Grabbing a towel, he patted his face dry. "No."

"Why not?" she asked, following him as he moved to the bedroom after his post-training shower.

Levi hated being chased around, but clearly, she wasn’t letting this one go. "Because I said so," Levi muttered, pulling a shirt from the drawer. His damp hair pushed backwards and still dripping a little bit. "I’m just going for a quick business deal with the Reiss company. In and out."

"But since you’re already going, I want to go and walk around," she insisted. "The cadets want to go too."

Slamming the drawer shut, he sighed. "What they want is none of my damn problem."

Under normal circumstances, she would have minded seeing him shirtless, but right now, she was too annoyed by his attitude to care. Each pause he took in the argument to get dressed only added to her frustration.

"First today, now Trost," Levi continued, slipping on the shirt. " I can’t be walking around with you glued to my side,"

He braced himself for protests, whining, maybe even some outright complaining— But when he finally looked up, her eyes were glassy.

Levi blinked. "What now?"

‘Oh no.

Not the fucking puppy eyes again.’

She hesitated, then whispered, "Are you… ashamed to be seen with me?"

"No," he snapped instantly, raising a finger in the air. "That’s not what I fucking said."

But she just shook her head and walked off toward the office, her head down.

"Come on. You know that’s not what I meant," Levi called after her.

No answer.

"Y/N—"

No answer.

—

The next morning at breakfast, Levi dropped into his seat with a scowl. "We’re going to Trost tomorrow."

His squad erupted into cheers, high-fiving each other.

"Tch. Fuck me," he muttered under his breath.

Armin, ever the strategist, tilted his head. "May I ask why, sir?"

Levi stabbed his fork into his food. "Because she wants to go."

Across the table, Sasha leaned toward Connie and Jean, whispering, "I’m confused... so, in the end, who is actually in charge?"

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“So, what’s the plan?” Hange asked as they walked down the street. With each step they took, the houses grew larger, the gates taller, the fences grander—everything seemed to increase in size and value the deeper they went. “You sneak through a window now that the sun’s setting and kidnap the cat?” Levi didn’t break stride as the street sloped downward, though he shot Hange a frown. “We’re not kidnapping anything. I sent a cadet earlier to inform them I’d be picking up the animal.” A loud hum of understanding filled the night as they continued walking, hands tucked into their pockets. But Hange still didn’t seem convinced. “You sure about this?” “About what?” Hange gave a quick glance around before answering. “These neighborhoods are private.” “And?” “Let’s just say the people who live in places like this and… us? We’ve never exactly been longtime acquaintances.” Hange’s tone carried the weight of an unspoken warning, as if preparing for the worst. But Levi couldn’t care less. Maybe it was the inner thug in him, the part that never gave a damn about the rich, the nobility, the king—or authority in general. This place reeked of something foreign, something he didn’t belong to. But like a lion crossing an open field, he walked through it like it was his to take. The Scouts held power now, but that wasn’t why he moved with such unwavering confidence. Levi was Levi, and even before the Scouts had led an uprising, he had been humanity’s strongest. Strength gives you a certainty in your actions that nothing else can. Especially when they reached the front door. Hange, either fearing the worst or just aware of Levi’s absolute lack of social grace, wisely kept quiet. The staff member who answered the gates frowned—not just in confusion, but perhaps in disgust. His gaze landed on the Wings of Freedom insignia on their uniforms alarmingly fast. “Sir.” “I came for the cat,” Levi said, blunt as ever. The man’s expression barely shifted. “I thought we informed the cadet that if you came, you should use the back entrance.” Levi’s eyes narrowed. He had no problem using the service entrance. But they’d received a mere MP cadet—barely fifteen years old—at their pristine front gates, and now he was supposed to go around the back like some beggar? Not a fucking chance. “Are you going to let me in or not?” The man— a butler? Or something like that. I don’t fucking know, Levi thought—stepped aside reluctantly, extending a stiff hand toward the entrance. Once inside, Hange took a moment to admire the downtown manor, pressing their lips together, nodding slowly in appreciation of the place’s elegance. Levi, however, wasn’t impressed. He was already pissed off—because of Zackly, because of the MPs, because of the damn door. His hands remained in his pockets, deep-set eyes locked onto the stairs with not even a hint of friendliness. “The cat?” His voice cut through the tension, sharp and impatient. If he’d given them advance notice, then they should have been ready by now. The butler barely reacted. “Please, wait here. The family is busy.” Levi let the silence stretch, his patience thinner than ever. “I sent someone over four hours ago.” Hange, sensing the storm brewing in him, reached out, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. Their expression twisted into an uneasy grimace, a silent plea. 
‘Let’s not make this harder.’
 Levi had barely registered Hange’s silent plea when the muffled sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the grand hall. A moment later, a flustered servant appeared, carrying a wooden box with small air holes carved into its sides. The box wobbled precariously in his grip—not because it was heavy, but because a tiny pair of hands were clawing at it with desperate strength. “Clauwy! Nooo!! Clauwy!!!” The voice was shrill and thick with tears, and it belonged to a small, wild-haired girl stumbling after the servant in a fit of heartbreak. Her face was blotchy from crying, her little legs moving as fast as they could, though they barely kept up. She yanked at the box, nearly knocking it from the man’s grasp, her tiny fingers clinging like her life depended on it. “Miss, please—” The servant tried to wrestle the box from her grip, his expression strained. It was clear he was struggling, not because she was particularly strong, but because she was the boss’s daughter—and he couldn't exactly shove her off. Levi watched the scene unfold, eyebrows knitting together as the girl let out another wail, “Clauwy!!!”  ‘Clauwy?’ He blinked. Hange was biting their lip, either to keep from laughing or from making things worse. The servant finally managed to pry the girl’s fingers off, stumbling forward as he hastily presented Levi with the box. “Here, sir. The animal is inside. Everything needed and requested is included.” Levi barely had time to grip the box before the little girl let out another sob and jumped, arms stretching toward it in a frantic attempt to snatch it back. Her high pitched scream made Hange go from entertainment to grimace in pain as the loud cry hurted the adult’s ears. LEvi clenched his teeth bearing himself to it but Hange whispered “Dear Sheena…” as if this was everything the commander needed to recall why they never had kids. “Nooo, Clauwy!!” she howled, tiny hands grasping at the air. “Y/N is gonna never come back if Clauwy isn’t here!!” At that, Levi stiffened. His sharp gaze flicked down to the girl, eyes narrowing slightly. 
‘Y/N’s little sister.’
 That was the only explanation. The messy hair, the same teary eyes, the way her tiny fists balled up in frustration—it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance. Levi exhaled quietly, shifting his stance. His grip on the box relaxed just a fraction as he crouched down, leveling himself with the child. She sniffled loudly, cheeks stained with tears, little lips quivering. The tears were not watery work as some kids did to get what they wanted, she was loudly and messily crying her eyes off. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to say. But then, in a rare, softened tone, he spoke. “Hey.” The girl hiccupped, still glaring up at him with wet, accusing eyes. Levi tilted his head slightly, nodding toward the box. “I’m taking him to Y/N. You don’t have to cry.” The little girl’s breath hitched. Her brows knitted together, unsure whether to believe him. “Pwomise?” Levi nodded once. “Promise.” She sniffled again, rubbing at her puffy eyes with tiny fists. The violent wailing had subsided into shaky breaths, though doubt still lingered in her expression. "You… with Y/N?" she murmured, her voice small and filled with innocent curiosity. Levi gave a short nod. "Yeah. She's with me." Before he had time to react, the girl threw her arms around his jacket, clinging to him like a koala. "I wanna be with Y/N!" she insisted, her tiny fists gripping the fabric tightly. She was so small that she barely weighed anything, but she nearly knocked him off balance in her desperation. Levi instinctively steadied her with his free hand, his body tensing. "No, no. You’ve got your parents." He tried to pry her off, one hand awkwardly holding her in place to keep her from slipping. His voice carried an edge of unease—like this wasn’t the first time a child had latched onto him, looking for something he wasn’t sure how to give. It all made sense when a commanding voice cut through the hallway. "MAEVE!" Levi turned his head, eyes narrowing at the elegantly dressed woman approaching from the corridor. She carried herself with an air of superiority, her gaze sharp, cold, and—more than anything—filled with contempt. A contempt Levi could barely understand but somehow reciprocated on instinct. "Come here, this instant." Maeve, still clinging to Levi as if he were her last lifeline, buried her tear-streaked face against his chest in fear. Levi wasn't holding her back, but he wasn’t pushing her away either. A part of him reasoned it wasn’t his place to interfere with another’s parenting. Another part—something older, instinctual—bristled at the fear in the little girl’s eyes. "Mae," the woman’s voice dropped lower, dangerously even, though the authority in it never wavered. "Do not make me come over there." Levi remained in his crouch, though he wished he weren’t. Not because she intimidated him and neither was it that his height was towering—far from it—but because he wasn’t about to be ordered around like a misbehaving child. She turned her glare on him. "You got what you came for. Don’t touch my daughter, and get out." His voice was calm, but firm. “I’m married to your daughter.” He let the words sink in. He knew the comment was about Maeve, but he wanted to remind her why he was here. “And you’re living in this house thanks to that. So next time, have the decency to receive me at the front door. And maybe bring a tea set." The silence that followed felt like a battlefield. The woman clenched her jaw, her pride clearly wounded. Levi, on the other hand, was holding back the urge to tell her a few things that would make the situation irreparable. Eventually, the little girl loosened her grip just slightly, uncertainty still clouding her face, but her wobbly legs found the floor again. She pouted up at Levi. "Y/N...?" Levi blinked. The words were mumbled and choked between sobs, but he caught enough of them to piece together what she meant. “You draw too? Like your sister?” he asked. The little girl nodded hesitantly. He exhaled and adjusted the box under his arm. "Why don’t you give your drawings to your grandmother? She has my address. I bet Y/N will love them." The idea seemed to ease something in her little mind. Her expression brightened just slightly—a wobbly, tear-stained smile forming. "Okay..." Then, as if remembering something urgent, she gasped and reached for the box. Levi lowered it just enough for her to hold it against her tiny chest, where she planted an exaggerated kiss on the top. “Bye-bye, Clauwy,” she sniffled, waving at the wooden crate as if the cat inside could see her. She then stepped back, allowing a nearby servant—who was no doubt assigned to escort her away without much fuss—to gently guide her down the hall. With only adults left in the room, the woman stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. "Do not drag my daughters into this." Levi barely batted an eye as he stood, shifting the box under his arm. He spat back, just as low, "Then don’t bring your daughter into this." — By the time they were making their way down the cobblestone streets, Hange finally broke the silence with a drawl of pure sarcasm. "Your in-laws adore you." Levi scoffed, adjusting his grip on the box. "They fucking should. They’re out of jail thanks to me." Hange hummed, amused. "Ahh, the foundation of every strong family bond." They walked in silence for a few moments before Hange, who had been keeping an eye on the cargo, squinted. "Uh… Levi?" "What?" Levi barely glanced at them. "The box is leaking something." Levi stopped dead in his tracks. "What." His head snapped down, and sure enough, a suspiciously watery liquid was seeping through the bottom of the wooden crate. With a sharp sigh, he lifted it slightly, peering through the holes. Inside, a pair of terrified cat eyes stared back at him—so wide, so frozen in fear, that it was almost comical. Levi’s nose wrinkled. "Oh, for fuck’s sake." Hange took a cautious step back. "Is that—?" "The damn thing pissed itself." Levi scowled, glaring at the cat. "Tch. It’s gonna be fine, you idiot. Don’t shit yourself too." Hange let out an obnoxious cackle. "That’s it! Use your daddy skills on the cat!" Levi shot them a deadly glare. "Who do you think I am? Erwin?" That only made Hange laugh harder. — Perhaps the unconscious side of his mind knew better than he did—it could foretell a prophecy and a future, much like some mystical oracle. At first, Levi wondered why he was wasting the precious little time he had left for sleep on dreaming pointless memories. But as soon as he recovered a bit of consciousness, he felt something heavy and warm on top of him. Blinking rapidly, trying to knock some sense into himself, the first thing that greeted him was a huge fur ball sprawled out like a bum on his chest, purring loudly. It was one of those rare occasions when Levi had decided he needed to sleep more than just two or three hours, rather than curling over his desk or slumping in his chair. The migraine he suffered, the particular sluggish state of the previous day, and his lingering intoxication all signaled that this was one of those times when he needed to try for a normal night’s sleep. Usually he would use his bed, but his bed was, as usual, occupied by the new member of the household. So he rearranged one of the couch cushions, changed his uniform, and called it a day—even though “calling it a day” for him meant staring at the ceiling for a good couple of hours. On other occasions, he might have masturbated and taken a warm shower to help induce sleepiness; however, Y/N wanted to shower after him. The thought of him jerking off on a couch whose cover he couldn’t change, right next to the room where she slept, wasn’t very arousing. The brownish-grey short blanket that barely covered his hips—originally meant for expeditions—hung loosely over him as he felt that the night was too warm for his taste. Moreover, the big animal on top of him served as a living pillow, radiating an inviting warmth that mingled with the humid air. “Tch,” Levi cursed as he abruptly woke up. “You’re supposed to be sleeping with your owner, not me.” But the cat, as if interpreting any suggestion from Levi as a personal challenge, stretched upward—making Levi grimace as though suddenly the animal weighs 500 tons, its teeny tiny paws seeming to carry an impossible burden. Then it knocked its head against Levi’s face and curled up even closer. “No,” Levi groaned, only for the cat to start licking his face with its paper-thin, sandpapery tongue. “For fuck’s sake, not with the tongue you use to clean your ass,” he barked, moving his head away in disgust. If falling asleep was already a struggle with a huge fur ball curled around his head purring like a machine, it wasn’t going to become any easier. The paper-thin white curtains waged a constant battle against the early morning sun. For the past month, the weather had undergone an unstoppable change—the temperatures rising even at night. The chimney, where she had once warmed herself on the night she arrived, had been cleaned and relegated to a storage space where, on occasion, a small fire was kindled to boil water for Levi’s late-night tea. The bedroom, which had seemed foreign to her on the first night, had now been completely conquered, making it hard to sleep past a certain hour. Each day, the sun filtered in a little earlier, illuminating the entire space with a relentless glow. Restlessly contorting on the bed, she tried to tug the blanket over her head to escape the scorching early summer sun. But it did little to help—not only were Levi’s blankets short and itchy, but breathing beneath the cover was unbearably warm. The fact that Levi had never noticed the curtains didn’t actually cover anything betrayed either his hectic early schedule or the fact that he rarely slept in that room. Waking up hungry was the first thing she noticed, and that realization motivated her to leave the bed. Usually, she enjoyed the morning—though Levi hardly considered anything past 8 a.m. as truly morning. Even after living there for an entire month, the place still didn’t feel like hers, especially when Levi was around. Sharing the four walls with him made her feel self-conscious, as if she were merely a guest staying over for a short visit, forced to display her best behavior and wear her finest clothes. It made her wonder if this was something that couples eventually got used to. When he left, she was usually asleep; when he returned, she was already dressed, her hair done, and presentable. Perhaps it was because her mother had always maintained a polished appearance around the house, or maybe it was due to the lack of true intimacy in their relationship—but when he wasn’t around, she felt as though the place belonged entirely to her. Without giving a second thought, she crawled out of the bed and opened the bedroom door. That small act already struck her as odd, making her frown. Levi had never closed the door when she was inside, and neither did she; for her, it still felt like a loss of control over her personal space. There was little time to rationalize this sentiment, however, as a squeak of surprise mixed with delight echoed through the chambers. “Aww! Good morning, sleepy beauty!” Y/N stood frozen as she locked eyes with the brunette seated at Levi’s desk. Instantly, she tried to wrap her arms around herself—her whitish, slightly translucent camisole leaving little to the imagination, and she feared the worst. But before she could even reconsider enclosing herself back in the bedroom, Hange rose and walked over to her. “I’ve been meaning to finally meet you!” the newcomer exclaimed. The hug was unexpected but a welcome surprise. It took her a little while to process it before she hugged back, delighted to receive such a clear expression of affection. Only to add to the surprise, Hange swayed slightly to the side, tightening the embrace and eliciting a sincere chuckle from the omega girl. For her, the random stranger who had been enjoying breakfast with her newly proclaimed husband was a delightful presence. As for Levi, he could see—through his deadpan expression—how Hange savored the aroma of her hair, smirking cheekily as if the low-class alpha had just won some trivial inner competition. When they parted, Hange rested their hands on her upper arms. “You can call me Hange—I’m Levi’s bestie, even if shortie denies it.” “Ah,” she said, smiling in a slightly confused yet relieved manner, as if her life were slowly returning to normal. Now she could go out; she had met the important people in her husband’s life. What should have been the usual “Nice to—” was cut short when Hange added, “I’m also the commander, but don’t take it too seriously,” as if it were nothing. The remark immediately silenced any response she might have offered, forcing her to press her lips together in shock and blush heavily as she looked down at her pajamas and bare feet. “I’m so sorry,” she hesitated, but Hange laughed it off. “Do not worry, you look great!” they insisted. “I swear, you’re a beauty—a cutie and a beauty.” The comment made her blush even more, especially when Hange pinched one of her cheeks. “Right, Levi, isn’t she a cutie?”  ‘That was absolutely unnecessary and uncalled for,’ Levi thought immediately, trying not to choke on the tea he was drinking at the unexpected turn of conversation. He coughed a bit as the liquid reacted to the shock; he had not paid attention until now that his so-called best friend had decided to put him in the spotlight. His eyes silently conveyed his inner exclamation of “What the fuck, dude? That was UNNECESSARY,” but Hange maintained a sassy, unaffected grimace. Almost breathless, Levi groaned a bit, “Yeah,” as if the words had been forced out of him at gunpoint rather than being genuine. Or so it seemed to her. Y/N admired the scene first with thankfulness and hope, then with confusion, and finally with a resigned sense of broken hope. ‘He truly can’t even stand me,’ she thought. For Levi, the cough that had erupted initially was forced out, stretching his moment of embarrassment before he resumed drinking his tea to hide his subtle blush. He wasn’t one to give compliments—not because he didn’t feel them, but because he wasn’t good with them. Being thrust into the spotlight and forced to offer a compliment only revealed his best: a feigned indifference. Hange, who thought it was a good occasion to coax the Captain into a sweet gesture, had left the room heavy with uneasiness. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” the brunette said, placing a hand behind Y/N’s back and gently guiding her toward the desk. But she refused. “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother during a meeting, sir,” she explained, already resolving that from now on she would check before opening the door. Perhaps, now that she wasn’t enclosed, Levi could return to his usual routine of holding meetings at his place—or so she guessed, for since her arrival, neither of them had ever experienced a normal routine. “It’s Hange,” they insisted, “and we’re not having a meeting—we’re just having breakfast. Well… more like eating your cookies, but sure.” That slowly convinced her to follow them further into the room, although there wasn’t much further to go since the space was rather small. “Her cookies?” Levi asked casually. “I pay for those.” “If that’s the case, they’re my cookies—I pay the salary that you use to pay for the cookies,” Hange retorted sarcastically as they sat down. “I thought you said you didn’t choose salaries. Give me a fucking raise then.” Levi exhaled sharply through his nose as he leaned back in his chair, watching Hange shamelessly steal another cookie from the tin. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the way Hange ate with no remorse or the fact that he had been roped into this conversation in the first place.   Y/N, still blushing from the earlier interaction, carefully sat down at the table. She reached for a slice of bread, but her mind was already elsewhere—on the trip ahead.   “Eat quickly,” Levi told her, tone clipped. “We’re leaving for Trost soon. I was about to wake you up, anyway.”   Y/N blinked in surprise. “Oh. This early?”   Levi took a sip of his tea. ’God… I don’t actually believe in you but… bless me patience,’  Hange chuckled. “You’re acting like we’re on some mission, Levi. Trost isn’t going anywhere.”   Levi shot them a tired glare ‘Whose side are you?’ He silently asked as if he needed someone to back him up for once since his life had been turned upside down. Then he turned back to Y/N. “So eat and get ready. We need to leave soon.”   Y/N nodded, already thinking ahead. She had never been to Trost before, but she knew it was much livelier than their usual surroundings—filled with markets, shops, and well-dressed people going about their daily lives. For the first time in a long while, she would be in a real city, not just cooped up in Levi’s quarters or wandering the military compound.   Excitement fluttered in her chest. “I’ll be quick. I just need to get dressed.” She silently clapped her hands in quite excitement “I’ll wear that floral dress I’ve been saving,” As she spoke, Levi could almost see and hear everything that was about to unfold before his eyes in the middle of the city. “What’s wrong with your usual dresses?” She frowned. “I want to wear something nice for the trip.”   His expression didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened slightly. “There’s no need for that. Just wear something simple.”   “But—”   “It’s better if we don’t draw attention.”   Her excitement flickered, her shoulders tensing. “We’re going to a city, not sneaking around like criminals.”   Levi had a bad habit of keeping things to himself and making little to no effort to explain the reasons behind his decisions. This habit made her bite her inner cheek in annoyance; he simply ordered around as if they were following a strict chain of command rather than working together on this arrangement. “Exactly. A city means more people, more eyes, and more chances for someone to be an issue. You already stand out enough as it is. There's no need to make it worse.” Y/N stiffened. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more—the implication that she was some sort of problem or the fact that he was, yet again, making decisions for her. “I just want to look nice.”   “You already are,” he said. In his mind, he was protecting her—for her, he was controlling every step she took as if she were a toddler. “I don’t want to deal with people staring at us.”  ‘First the room, then his squad, now this. Who are you hiding me from?’ Her mind began to construct ideas, though many were based on little more than a shaky foundation. She felt like a prisoner of his relentless attempts to keep her undercover. Her fingers curled into her lap. “So what? I’m supposed to walk around looking dull just because you don’t want to be bothered?”   “Not dull,” he corrected. “Just — Y/N huffed, frustration bubbling in her chest. She wanted to argue—to snap back that she didn’t need him controlling what she wore. At the same time, she wanted her space to be respected. ‘Like it or not, I’m your wife! Give me ONE chance to feel like I’m not a prisoner,’ she thought. But before she could say anything, Hange clapped their hands together, breaking the tension. “Well! I say we leave a little later then,” Hange announced cheerfully. “No need to rush. Let her get ready how she wants. She’ll look gorgeous no matter what, right?” They shot Levi a pointed look.   Levi exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly not pleased and not in the mood to argue further. He just grunted in response.  ‘Don't listen to me—I was born yesterday. In fact, I'm stupid,’ Levi thought, for him the outcome was as clear as possible. ‘Don't come back pouting at me when you realize I was damn right.’  Y/N turned to Hange, eyebrows raised. “Wait… you’re coming?”   Hange tilted their head. “Of course I am! What, did you think you and Levi were just going on a little honeymoon getaway?” They wiggled their eyebrows playfully before taking another bite of a cookie.   Y/N felt her face heat up again. “No, I just—”   “We’re going for business,” Hange reminded her with a smirk. “In case you forgot, there’s a whole reason behind this trip, and it’s not sightseeing.”   Her lips parted slightly in realization. Right. Of course. Business. Glancing at Levi as waiting for some guidance. He didn’t look at her, just continued drinking his tea as if the whole argument hadn’t happened. Y/N hurried excitedly into the room, and as soon as she was out of the chambers, Hange bent over the desk to whisper to the Captain, “Don’t be so constipated—let her have this.” Levi clenched his teeth. The day before yesterday’s little tantrum about going to Trost, and now this. He wasn’t one to take being disrespected in his decisions lightly. “I know what I’m doing,” he whispered back, his tone biting with each word. “And what are you doing?” the commander retorted, raising a single eyebrow with a grimace of confusion mixed with exasperation. “Being a bitch?” Like a tired mother who might exclaim, “I’d like to see all of you the day I die!” Levi raised his hands in the air, pressed his lips together, and stood up—silently declaring that he was going to wait and see, wait and see how right he was. “By the way,” Hange added with their mouth full, “I preferred it when she didn’t stink to you.” “Could you try not to hit on my wife for five fucking minutes?” he said, exhausted, only to win a cheeky chuckle from the brunette. He was ready—ready a long while ago. A casual white shirt, dark trousers, knee-high boots, sleeves rolled up. Deep breath in, deep breath out. His grey eyes stared at the abyss before he loudly exclaimed, “I’m leaving in THREE, TWO—” ”I’M READY!” Y/N adjusted the wide-brimmed hat over her head, making sure it sat just right before stepping out of the bathroom. The sunflower dress she had chosen was light and airy, perfect for the warm weather, and the soft fabric swayed gently around her knees as she moved. She felt… nice. Presentable. Even a little excited. Levi was already at the door, checking the lock one last time to make sure the cat wouldn’t escape while they were gone. His back was turned to her, but she still lifted her chin slightly, expecting something. A comment, maybe. Not a compliment—he was terrible at those—but at least some acknowledgment. Levi turned around, his eyes flicking over her in a quick assessment. And that was when it hit him. ‘Great. Just fucking great. She looks freaking cute, and I’m forced to have sharper senses than when I was trying not to get killed by that monkey’s rocks.’  The damn dress, the stupid hat, the way the sunlight hit her just right—he could already feel the stares they were bound to attract. He could almost hear Hange’s teasing and see the way people would gape. And worst of all, he knew she was waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t stupid; he could see in her expectant eyes that she was standing up straight, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze innocent yet hopeful. Or perhaps he was a little stupid, because when cornered to say something nice, his best option was to play dead and freeze like a possum. “Finally,” he muttered, turning back to the lock as if her entire effort had gone unnoticed. Y/N’s shoulders dropped slightly, her excitement dimming at his lack of response. ‘That’s it?’ Her disappointment was so clear as she pouted while he pushed open the door, stepping outside without even sparing her a second glance. She bent down to press a kiss on the cat’s head and whispered, “Love ya, baby.” By the time she followed him out, he was already locking the office behind them, the keys jingling as he secured every bolt. “You should wear different shoes,” he said without looking up. Y/N glanced down at her feet. The shoes in question were a delicate pair of heeled sandals, the only ones that really matched her outfit. “They’re fine,” she argued. “It’s a long trip,” he countered. “You’re gonna regret it.” She huffed. “I’ll be fine.” Levi shot her a look, unimpressed. He could already picture it—halfway through the day, she’d be complaining about sore feet, and he’d be the one stuck dealing with it. But if she wanted to be stubborn about it, fine. He wasn’t going to argue over a pair of shoes. “Suit yourself,” he muttered, stepping down onto the corridor. They barely made it a few steps before a group of cadets passed by, chatting among themselves. One of them, recognizing Y/N, perked up immediately. “Good morning, ma’am!” a young soldier greeted with a bright smile. Then they performed the military salute, moving stiffly with the sides of their boots clacking against each other in the process. “Sir,” Y/N, caught off guard but pleased, smiled back just as enthusiastically. “Oh! Good morning!” The cadets all nodded in respect before continuing on their way, but Y/N’s cheerful response seemed to echo in Levi’s ears like a goddamn church bell. He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple as he walked beside her. “Tch. You don’t have to greet every damn person you see.” She shot him a side glance, amused. “They greeted me first. Should I have ignored them?” “Yes.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.” Levi didn’t answer. He just kept walking, already dreading how long this trip was going to feel.

At the front doors of the barracks, a group of cadets waited with varying degrees of patience. Jean paced back and forth, arms crossed, his brows furrowed as he glanced toward the office. "What the hell is taking them so long?" he grumbled. Mikasa, standing beside him with her usual deadpan expression, shrugged slightly. "Maybe she got lost in the corridors," she suggested. "Lost?" Jean snorted. "It’s a damn building, not a maze." "She’s new here?" Armin pointed out as if it was obvious, adjusting his collar. Jean hesitated before scoffing. "Well, yes, but—" "There you go," Mikasa cut in. Before Jean could argue, Sasha suddenly clapped her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling. "Guys, focus," she whispered excitedly. "This is a golden opportunity!" Jean, Connie, and Sasha all exchanged knowing looks, their grins spreading mischievously. Eren, standing a little behind them, narrowed his eyes. "What’s a golden opportunity?" Connie immediately pulled him into a huddle, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Armin and Mikasa were dragged in next, forming a tight circle like a football team plotting their next big play. Jean took the lead, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Alright, listen up. Captain Levi is well-known in Trost." "No kidding," Armin muttered. "Shh!" Jean hushed him. "The point is, he's famous, but he never—never—pays attention to street vendors, food stalls, or anything fun." Sasha gasped dramatically. "A tragedy, truly." "But!" Jean continued, raising a finger. "The people of Trost will definitely be eager to pamper his new wife." He leaned in closer, voice dripping with excitement. "Which means—" "Free food!" Sasha finished, eyes gleaming. "Free stuff," Connie corrected, practically bouncing on his feet. "I bet we could score more than just food." "Like what? Socks?" Eren asked, raising a skeptical brow. "Yes, Eren, socks," Connie said, rolling his eyes. "And maybe some new boots, a hat, a nice bottle of whiskey—who knows?" Jean nodded. "All we gotta do is make sure Y/N walks near the best vendors and looks interested. The rest will handle itself." Sasha pumped her fist. "We need to make her look hungry! I can do that!" "You are always hungry," Mikasa pointed out flatly. Sasha beamed. "Exactly! I’ll be her coach!" Armin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous." "No, this is genius," Connie corrected. "Think about it! Levi would never let us go around sampling food like tourists, but if it’s for his wife?" He smirked. "He’d look like a jerk if he stopped it." Eren groaned. "I can’t believe I’m listening to this." Jean smirked, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "That’s because you know it’s a solid plan." Armin exhaled, shaking his head. "You do realize there’s a possibility Levi will find out and murder us all, right?" A brief silence followed. Then Sasha shrugged. "Worth it." Jean clapped his hands together. "Alright, team! Stick to the plan. Act natural, but not too natural." Connie pointed dramatically toward the office. "Operation 'Use the Captain’s Wife to Score Free Stuff' is a go!" And with that, the squad dispersed, their grins full of anticipation as they awaited Y/N’s arrival. “Y/N!” The enthusiastic cheer of her name echoed down the training ground, momentarily confusing her, but she quickly adapted. Her happiness for the day immediately matched that of the cadets as she hurried up to meet them. “Hi, sweeties,” she called out, rushing forward to hug the squad members—except for Eren, who remained distant despite her approach. “Good morning,” she added warmly. Meanwhile, Levi stayed behind, slowly approaching the weathered wooden cart they were about to take. He made no haste to join the others, instead raising a silent eyebrow at the suspicious attitude that seemed to hang in the air. However, Hange reached the cart first and whispered to the team, “Way less, guys, way less.” It was as if the six teenagers and the commander shared one single brain cell, all arriving at the same conclusion for the trip, their plan guided by the voice of experience. “The cat isn’t coming?” Mikasa asked, her tone almost disappointed. That question made Y/N’s eyes sparkle with a newfound idea; her mouth opened as she looked back at Levi, but before she could even say anything, he interjected firmly: “Do not even dream of it.” Pouting immediately as her expression changed, she retorted, “I didn’t say anything!” “The answer is still no,” “Why are we taking the cart? We’d go ten times faster on horseback,” Eren pointed out, sparking a domino effect as the rest of the squad immediately jumped in with similar complaints. “Yeah, why not just ride?” “It’d be way quicker.” “Are we seriously taking the slowest option?” Y/N hesitated, shifting on her feet as the sudden attention made her stomach twist. “I… I don’t know how to ride,” she admitted, her voice quiet, shame creeping in as she noticed how the squad tried—really tried—to force understanding smiles. “I—I could ride with you,” Jean blurted, his excitement so obvious it practically scented the air. Levi, who had been silent up until now, slowly turned to give him a long, deadpan stare. No words. No expression. Just the weight of his gaze pressing down like a boulder. Jean visibly deflated. “Or… maybe not,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he quickly took it back, feeling the unspoken threat in the older Alpha’s presence. The ride to Trost was, thankfully, uneventful. The cart rumbled over uneven stone paths, the steady clatter of hooves filling the otherwise quiet morning. The cadets, in contrast, were anything but quiet. They chatted excitedly, cracking jokes and speculating about what they would do once they arrived. Y/N soaked up the energy, enjoying their excitement, though Levi, sitting beside her with arms crossed, remained as unimpressed as ever. By the time they reached the outskirts of Trost, the sun was already climbing high, casting long shadows over the busy streets. The closer they got to the heart of the city, the more people crowded the roads, bustling about their business. Levi pulled the cart to a stop near the entrance to the inner district, hopping off with practiced ease before turning to the group. “We’ll be meeting back here before sundown,” he announced, his sharp gaze sweeping over the cadets. “That gives you plenty of time to do whatever it is you want. You’re old enough to manage that much.” Jean pumped a fist into the air, grinning. “Hell yeah, free roam.” Armin sighed dramatically. “This is a mistake. they are not responsible enough for this.” “Don’t worry, Armin, I’ll supervise,” Connie smirked. But Armin glanced back at the other beta, his brows knitting together, unable to hide the fact that his words had been anything but reassuring. Levi, ignoring them, turned to Y/N. “You stick to me.” The words hit her like a slap. She blinked, stunned for a second, then frowned deeply. “What?” He didn’t even spare her a glance as he tightened the straps on his gear. “You heard me.” But to his surprise, the cadets followed closely behind. Too closely. “What?” Levi’s narrowed gaze flicked back at them. “Oh, we just—” Sasha stuttered, visibly scrambling for a decent excuse. “We want to spend time with you, Cap!” Hange did a full-face palm, exhaling loudly. As if anything would have been more convincing than that. “Aye, aye, we’re all headed in the same direction, so let’s stick together,” the commander cut in, plastering on a way-too-obviously fake cheerful smile as they pushed the cadets forward. Y/N, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, feeling irritation simmer under her skin. They got to wander freely, but she had to stick by his side like a lost child? “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped after him. Levi didn’t react. He didn’t have to.  As the not-so-happy couple grumbled their way ahead, the rest of the squad lagged a few steps behind. Hange leaned in with a low murmur. “You guys are horrible at this.” Connie protested, puffing out his chest—only for Hange to ruffle his hair like an annoying older sibling. “Are you any better?” The brunette grinned triumphantly, looking more like a mischievous cadet than the highest-ranking in the Corps. “Me? Levi’s influence has been funding my trips for the past six years.” The squad collectively blinked at them before Jean muttered, “Respect.” But as they made their way deeper into Trost, her frustration was quickly overtaken by something else. The city was buzzing with life, vendors calling out their wares, children weaving between adults, and chatter filling the air. Yet as soon as Levi stepped onto the main road, the atmosphere subtly shifted. People noticed him. Heads turned, whispers spread like wildfire, and before long, the greetings started. “Captain Levi!” “It’s really him!” “Good morning, sir!” Men straightened their postures, women gasped in admiration, and children pointed in awe. A few brave ones even ran up to him, eyes shining. Levi, as usual, barely reacted. He nodded when necessary, offered the occasional “Hello,”  At first, Y/N found it amusing—fascinating, even. Seeing him get this much admiration, this much respect, was unlike anything she’d experienced before. But then, she started noticing something else. They were looking at her too. Not with admiration. With confusion. Some whispered amongst themselves, glancing her way before quickly turning back. A few openly stared. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she caught faint traces of scent lingering in the air—mostly Betas, but here and there, a few Omegas and Alphas stood out. Most of them weren’t high-bred, but every so often, a stronger scent cut through the rest, sharp and unmistakable. Y/N slowed her steps, unease creeping up her spine. Her gaze flickered toward Sasha and Mikasa, their simple, practical outfits blending easily into the crowd. Then she glanced down at herself—her soft, feminine dress, the ring on her finger, the way the fabric swayed with every step. Finally, her eyes shifted back to the citizens. The Omegas whispered behind cupped hands, sneaking glances at her before looking away with knowing expressions. The Alphas, on the other hand, looked perplexed—some furrowing their brows, others tilting their heads slightly as if trying to solve a puzzle. A few even smiled at her, their interest apparent. Y/N suddenly felt as though she could hear every unspoken thought in the air around her. "Married but unclaimed? What’s wrong with her?" The realization settled in her stomach like a stone. She wasn’t just being stared at—she was being judged. Scrutinized. Questioned. The overwhelming urge to disappear struck her like a slap. If she could just melt into the cadets, slip unnoticed into their little group, maybe she’d escape the weight of all those eyes. But it was too late for that. She’d wanted to stand out. Now she was paying for it. Without thinking, she scooted closer to Levi, her fingers twitching at her sides. She hesitated, then glanced up at him with uncertain, almost pleading eyes.
Levi, however, didn’t need to say a single word. The look he shot her—deadpan, unimpressed, and laced with I told you so —was louder than any scolding could ever be.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Jean asked, his gaze sweeping over the bustling streets as he took in the growing murmurs and sidelong glances.
 
“I think they’re staring at her,” Armin suggested, his sharp mind working through possibilities, though he struggled to pinpoint the exact reason because of his class. “But I’m not sure why.”
 
“She’s unclaimed,” Eren added, his tone flat with disinterest—though lately, that seemed to be his default expression for everything. “Which I don’t really understand why.”
 
“Unclaimed?” Sasha repeated, tilting her head in confusion.
 
Before anyone could answer, Hange gave her a light pat on the shoulder, their expression shifting into something more knowing. “For Alphas and Omegas, a claim is stronger than any wedding ring,” they explained. “A married couple without one is… unusual. If not downright unthinkable.” A quiet chuckle followed, tinged with something almost nostalgic. “Hell, most people only get married

because

they were claimed.”
 
“That’s what’s weird to me,” Jean murmured, hand on his chin as if lost in thought—until a sharp smack landed on the back of his head.
 
“Oi!” he yelped, whipping around to glare at Eren.
 
“Stop trying to look interesting, horse face,” Eren deadpanned.
 
“Guys, focus. Weren’t we on a mission?” Mikasa interjected, not entirely invested in the banter but determined to defuse the brewing squabble between the two Alpha boys, who were clearly itching to bare their teeth at each other.
 
Meanwhile, Y/N was momentarily distracted from the continuous stares by the noise of Levi’s team walking behind them. Despite her worries, the clamor provided a brief relief for her mind. “Shouldn’t you stop them?” she asked, turning to Levi, who continued walking without pausing.
 
To her surprise, as Levi always seemed so controlling in her eyes, he shrugged and replied in his characteristically blunt manner, “We are not on duty, and they’ve got free roam. If they choose to waste their time here, fighting, is their thing.”
 
Despite his words, she turned back over her shoulder to look at the group. First, she pressed her lips together in silent reproach, but then a tender smile crept onto her face.

‘What are they? Four? Five years older than the twins?’

A wash of nostalgia washed over her—her closest brothers might not be the sweetest, but they were her siblings no matter what. And twelve is a hard age to bear.
 
Perhaps it was also the way people looked at Levi with such admiration—a look she couldn’t fully comprehend.

‘How many high-bred Omegas could be around here?’

her mind questioned. The way certain Alphas—some barely noticeable, others more prominent—paused as if catching her scent. Unlike the Omegas, who murmured among themselves with furrowed brows, a few of the Alphas had the nerve to offer small, knowing smiles. Recognizing an unclaimed Omega in their midst and matching the scent of availability and interest.
 
Only for that interest to vanish the moment they saw Levi walking beside her.
 
Like wolves scenting a bigger predator, they averted their eyes, shoulders curling inward, postures unconsciously adjusting. Submissive.

‘It’s like big scary dog privilege,’

she thought, suppressing a chuckle.

‘Maybe I should take advantage of it.’

She had two choices—shrink under the stares, or stick to the original plan. If this arrangement wasn’t changing any time soon, then this was her reality. She had to own it.
 
Her grandmother’s words echoed in her mind, from the day her marriage had been arranged.
 
“Maybe in the past, we could have fought back. But this is our new reality.”
 
Lifting her head, she straightened her spine, meeting the world with a newfound resolve. As she glanced around, her eyes landed on the repaired gates of Trost—a symbol of the world rebuilding itself, brick by brick. Nothing was the same as it had been a year ago, with much more transformation yet to come. With a newfound perspective, her eyes lifted from the ground as she admired the bustling city. The summer in the south, a place she had never visited before, approached quickly. For reasons that still eluded her, people looked at the man she pouted to get what she wanted with high admiration.

‘My new reality… is me fighting back,’

she thought.

‘Ring or no ring, by law, he is as rightfully mine as I am his.’

Levi must’ve noticed the sudden shift in her demeanor. His steel-grey eyes flickered with a trace of confusion. But before he could ask, she stepped away from his side.
 
“Oi.” His sharp call followed immediately as he kept pace.
 
She barely glanced back. “I’m just looking,” she said airily, stepping up to one of the market stands.
 
Levi exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “I told you to stick to me.”
 
“I am sticking to you,” she countered, barely hiding her smirk. “I’m just… checking things out.”
 
His brows knit together in mild irritation as he watched her meander between stalls, pausing to admire handmade trinkets and embroidered fabrics. “Didn’t you already check this stand?” Levi began to complain, but before he could further criticize her frown, the merchant’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Captain! It’s an honor,” the shopkeeper beamed, bowing slightly.
 
“Ah, yes. Hello,” Levi muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden burst of popularity. He wasn’t accustomed to handling such attention—nor was he someone who frequented shopping areas for items that made him the center of a commercial spectacle.
 
“I’m just checking,” she sang back, taking deliberate, measured steps as she admired the various offers.
 
“We’ve been on this street for fifteen minutes,” Levi remarked, his tone a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.
 
“I’m just checking,” she repeated softly, almost as if it were a mantra.
 
“We don’t even have our own kitchen in the chambers—why do you need to check out pots?” he prodded.
 
“I’m just checking,” she replied again, her tone light yet determined.
 
Eventually, Levi decided to drop his close pursuit — mostly because other women had begun crowding the stand and pushing him aside, exclaiming things like, “Oh my god, I need this!” before immediately walking away.
 
At some point, Levi noticed something else: a line of men standing a few feet back, all holding bags. Waiting.

‘Is this who I am now?’

Before he could dwell on that existential crisis, Hange appeared from the crowd, waving him down. “We’re going to be late for the meeting,” they reminded him, tilting their head toward the fading sunlight.
 
Levi’s gaze slowly slid to the side, locking onto Y/N, still blissfully shopping.
 
His expression flattened.
 
“… Maybe we should have left…” He dragged the words out before deadpanning, “AT THE TIME I ORIGINALLY SAID.”
 
Hange groaned, rubbing their temples. “Ugh. I’ll meet you there.” They had zero energy to deal with his ‘I told you so’ attitude.
 
At that moment, Y/N’s attention drifted toward another stand, this time filled with delicious-looking street food. Her eyes sparkled.
 
"Omg… those look so good," she said, eyes glued to the street stands laden with food. Her gaze lingered for a moment before shifting back to Levi, who stood one steps behind but still next to her, hands resting on his hips, his expression completely indifferent. But her smile didn’t falter— growing more intense.
 
When he finally noticed her stare, his brow twitched in mild irritation. "What?" he grumbled, his sharp tone breaking through her reverie.
 
Then, as if his memory had a delay, he remembered her previous words. "Tch," He clicked his tongue, reaching for his back pocket. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet, slapped a few bills into her hand.
 
Her grin widened, practically lighting up her face. "Thank you, love!" she chirped, her voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.
 
Levi froze for a second, his jaw tightening. ‘Love? In public?’ He processed the nickname like it was some personal attack. The corners of his mouth twitched downward in visible disapproval, and he muttered, almost under his breath, "Having a wife is expensive.”
 
Extending herself as much as possible over the stand, Y/N handed over the money and received her food. A politically correct smile rose on her cheeks, and the eyes of the young woman behind the stand widened in shock. From that moment, it was almost like a domino effect—Y/N could see that those who had heard about her "claim" and seen Levi paying for the treat had treated the information as if it were classified national security news. After that brief interaction, nothing stayed the same. The working woman turned around to chat with the other merchants, and with every deliberate step Y/N took that tested Levi’s patience, the information spread like flares during an expedition.
 
“Ma’dam, it's a pleasure,” an older lady at her own stand said with a warm, welcoming smile.
 
“Thank you, I’m just checking,” Y/N insisted, echoing the words she had used with Levi a few minutes earlier. A light squeeze on her shoulder made her turn around quickly, breaking her concentration on the bustling market. “Levi?”
 
“I’m gonna check the teas—I’m right here,” he replied. Her first thought was, ‘Finally, he found something interesting.’ Nodding back enthusiastically, she gave him the green light to leave her be for a few minutes.
 
“This is our chance, guys,” Sasha whispered as soon as Levi abandoned his keen observation of the Omega. The two other boys, Jean and Connie, quickly followed her lead. Meanwhile, the three other members—the Shiganshina trio—remained behind with curious, yet unhopeful, eyes.
 
Armin sighed, “They are going to get us in trouble.”
 
“Please, ma’dam. Let me show you something worthy,” the man behind the fabric stand said as he quickly turned to grab a piece from a more delicate fabric—a material far finer than the common linen or cotton available in different shades—that he was offering.
 
Once again, Y/N smiled politely and was about to add, “Thanks, but I’m just—”
 
“Those are very nice,” Jean interjected out of nowhere.
 
“Yes. They would make your eyes pop,” came the follow-up.
 
“Aren’t you hungry?” Sasha quickly asked, eyeing the treat in the Omega’s hand. “… Can I have a bite?” She added.
 
“Ma’dam…” came the hesitant reply.
 
“Thank you,” she quickly dismissed the offer before turning to the three teens and giving them accusatory eyes. “What are you doing?”
 
“Nothing,” they replied in unison.
 
Her eyes squinted as she declared, “I’m the eldest daughter of seven siblings—”
 
“If they offer you food, can you share some with us?” Sasha quickly added, inadvertently betraying the whole plan in an alarmingly quick admission.
 
“Sasha! Potato girl!”
 
“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” she snapped.
 
But to their surprise, she chuckled. “Alright,” she conceded.
 
The moment Y/N gave in, it was over.
 
Like moths drawn to a flame, the rest of the cadets—Armin, Eren, and Mikasa included—closed in eagerly, their previous indifference replaced by sudden, overwhelming interest. Y/N barely had time to process their excitement before the merchants around them began to take notice as well.
 
“Oh, dear! You should have said something sooner!” a woman at a neighboring stand gasped, clasping her hands together. “Captain Levi’s wife, out in the market just like the rest of us!”
 
The words sent a ripple through the nearby merchants, and suddenly, it was as if the entire street had reached a silent agreement. Stalls that had previously been calling out to customers were now focused entirely on her. Fresh bread, fruits, roasted nuts, and even finely wrapped confections were presented to her in outstretched hands.
 
“Here, dear! Congratulations on your recent marriage!”
 
“Oh, we’re so happy for the Captain!”
 
“Such a blessing! Please, take this—he deserves all the happiness in the world.”
 
”Aren’t you a beauty?! OH, you need to eat fresh fruit and meat, for healthy kids!”
 
The cadets barely had to glance at each other before they instinctively stepped in, helping themselves to the gifts as if they were personal guests at a wedding feast. Y/N, overwhelmed but laughing at the situation, took a bite of a pastry and quickly passed the rest to Sasha, who devoured it with stars in her eyes.
 
Eren, despite his usual attitude, didn’t hesitate to accept an offering of fresh fruit, while Jean and Connie busied themselves stuffing their pockets before anyone changed their minds.
 
“This is amazing,” Armin muttered, half in disbelief as he watched the spontaneous generosity unfold. Even Mikasa, who had initially hung back, finally reached for a small bread roll after a gentle nudge from Sasha.
 
"Is it recent?"
 
Y/N barely had time to register the flood of questions thrown her way, her head moving hectically as she tried to keep up while also struggling to accept everything being handed to her.
 
"Ah, yes! We've been married for only a month," she replied with a polite smile. Most of the merchants working in the marketplace were betas, as was customary, so it didn’t surprise her that they weren’t scrutinizing the situation too deeply.
 
A chorus of delighted gasps followed.
 
"A month! Oh, how sweet!"
 
"You must be so in love—still in the honeymoon phase!"
 
At that, her smile faltered—just the slightest twitch at the corners. The comment struck something raw, a sliver of reality creeping into the little fairytale she had been indulging in for the past few minutes. But she forced out a light chuckle, a thin layer of nervousness coating it.
 
"Ah. Yes. So in love," she echoed, hoping it was convincing enough.
 
Unbeknownst to them, Levi had been standing a short distance away, his attention focused on the stand he had stopped at—a simple vendor selling brooms and other household items. He had been evaluating the quality of a sturdy wooden broom handle when the noise behind him grew too noticeable to ignore.
 
His sharp gaze flicked toward the growing crowd, and immediately, he caught sight of her—surrounded, smiling, hands full of gifts, and the brats eating like it was a festival.
 
Levi’s brow twitched.
 
Dropping the broom back into the pile, he moved.
 
"Here, sweetheart! Take this—make our boy happy!" An older woman handed her a bag full of fresh ingredients, no doubt meant for cooking.

‘As if I know how to cook… but yeah, sure.’

Before she could reach for it, a larger hand intercepted, gripping the bag and promptly pushing it back toward the woman.
 
"Thank you, but we don’t need it," Levi’s voice cut through the cheerful atmosphere like a blade, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N turned, still chewing, only to find him standing beside her.
 
Levi exhaled sharply, glancing over the fresh produce and baked goods being pressed into her hands. “We don’t need all this.” His voice was steady, but his tone carried its usual, unyielding finality.
 
“Oh, Captain!” The woman offering a bundle of herbs beamed at him. “It’s nothing! Just a small gift to celebrate!”
 
“We appreciate it,” Levi said, ever so briefly, before shutting it down entirely. “But keep it. We don’t need it.”
 
The words landed with enough weight to halt the merchants in their tracks. Some hesitated, glancing between each other as if unsure how to argue with him.

Y/N tightened her grip on some of the gifts still in her arms, her expression shifting. Instead of giving them back, she held onto them stubbornly, her frown deepening as she met Levi’s unwavering stare. Their eyes locked in a silent standoff.

Do not start a scene here.

It was an unspoken warning they both understood.
 
Meanwhile, the cadets—rats on a sinking ship—took the first opportunity to slip away unnoticed, scattering quickly without a single complaint.
 
Levi exhaled sharply, then turned back to the merchants with a curt nod. "Thank you, everyone. But we have somewhere to be, and we’re running late."
 
And just like that, he grasped her wrist and pulled her away from the crowd.
 
"Do

not

tug me!" she hissed the second they were far enough. She yanked her arm free, stepping back with a glare. "I’m not a dog, Levi!"
 
Y/N frowned, adjusting her grip on a neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “They’re just happy for you,” she pointed out, as if trying to reason with him. “They like you, Levi. They want to share that.”
 
Levi’s response was immediate, dismissive. "We don’t need it. There’s food at headquarters. I even brought you something to eat."
 
She huffed, exasperated. "

I

didn’t have a wedding. I didn’t have a celebration. I didn’t get gifts," she countered, listing them off with growing frustration. "At least let me have a stupid loaf of bread!"
 
But Levi didn’t budge. His gaze flickered between her and the cadets—who, despite their best efforts, were very obviously pretending they hadn’t just stuffed their pockets with free food.
 
"These people worked their asses off all winter just to have enough to sell in the summer and spring," he said, nodding toward the merchants still at their stalls. "They deserve to be paid for it. We don’t have money, and we

don’t

need their charity."
 
She clenched her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek as frustration simmered beneath her skin. The more she listened, the more something inside her coiled tight—resentment, exhaustion, a mix of things she didn’t have the words for.

‘I don’t know what I hate more—being talked down to like a kid, dragged around like a dog, or ordered around like a soldier.’

Her throat burned with the effort to keep her voice steady, torn between the overwhelming urge to cry or just scream at the top of her lungs.
 
Levi exhaled through his nose, his tone softening—just slightly. "Come on. I’ve got a meeting to get to."
 
Her fingers curled around the bread in her hands. "And what does that have to do with me?" she shot back, bitterness seeping into her voice.
 
Levi blinked once, reading her expression, before sighing. "I can’t leave you here alone. Come on. There’ll be afternoon tea there."
 
She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked back toward the cadets, who were lurking between stalls—half-hidden, hoping to go unnoticed.
 
They stiffened as she approached, looking guilty as dogs avoiding punishment.
 
"Here. Take it." She handed them the rest of the food without hesitation.
 
Despite their earlier excitement, they accepted it hesitantly, glancing between each other.
 
"We’re… sorry," Sasha mumbled, her voice small. "We didn’t mean to make you two fight."
 
To their surprise, Y/N simply gave them a small, bittersweet smile.
 
“It’s alright," she said quietly. "I knew he was going to get mad. But he hates me anyway, so …” And with that, she shrugged, turned and walked away.
 
The cadets remained silent, “Damn…” Jean sighed as the idea of picturing his mother saying that about his father felt wrong. Meanwhile, Arming frowned confused. 
 
—
 
Flegel eyed the newly married couple with a grin. "Well! I heard it from some Garrison members, but I couldn't believe it." Then, with a hearty laugh, he clapped Levi on the arm-strong enough for most men, but Levi didn't budge a centimeter. "Congratulations! You're a lucky man."
 
His smirk turned sly as he then looked at Y/N, his tone softening. "And congrats to you, sweetie. You're a little sunshine."
 
She flushed slightly at the compliment. "Thank you, sir."
 
Flegel's grin widened. "My mom was happy to hear about it. She said it was about time you settled down."
 
Levi raised an eyebrow. "And you?"
 
Flegel chuckled nervously and patted Levi's arm again. "Let's focus on other stuff."
 
From the Reeves Company's side, one of the men overseeing the meeting frowned slightly before dropping a conversational bomb. "So, how did you two meet? You look a bit... young."
 
"Someone introduced us," Levi answered quickly, cutting off the conversation before it could go anywhere dangerous. His sharp gaze flickered to the unfamiliar beta, a clear warning not to pry further.
 
"I'm 21," Y/N chimed in, her voice a little too eager.
 
The two betas exchanged glances, both frowning at the answer.
 
Sensing their reaction, she quickly tacked on, "But I'm turning 22 soon!"
 
Flegel's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? Your birthday's coming up?"
 
"Yeah," she replied, only to immediately sweat under their gazes. "Like in... ten months," she muttered under her breath.
 
A beat of silence.
 
"ANYWAY," Hange interjected, loudly steering the conversation back to business. "Business, business,"
 
As the five of them walked through the narrow corridor of the house-two betas leading in front, two scouts in the middle, and Y/N trailing behind-quiet whispers floated ahead.
 
"Isn't she a little too young for him?"
 
"Shh. You know how military men are," Flegel replied. "They like them young."
 
"That's why they always end up marrying their cadets?"
 
Meanwhile, Hange and Levi, who could hear every word crystal clear, exchanged unimpressed looks.
 
"They're calling you a creep," Hange whispered between amused chuckles.
 
"I know. I can hear them," Levi muttered through gritted teeth.
 
It was obvious the two betas hadn't considered that two alphas-both with superior hearing-could catch every word of their hushed gossip.
 
"In my defense," Levi deadpanned, "when I had the free will to choose my partners, they were always older."
 
"And the government gave her to me," he added flatly. "So I'm unimpeachable.”
 
The elegantly decorated walls, the intricate baseboard molding, the polished wooden floors gleaming under the soft lighting—Y/N took it all in with a subtle smile of approval as she walked through the corridors of her husband’s business companion’s household. ‘

This is what I’m talking about.’

“Oh, ehm, Y/N?” Flegel turned around, calling her attention. “The girls are waiting in the living room for you to join them.”
 
As she processed the information, her smile faded. ‘

Right

.’ The thought was accompanied by an inward sigh of reluctance. Nevertheless, she followed the given directions and quickly reached for the door she assumed led to the living room.
 
“Excuse me?” she announced herself hesitantly as she stepped inside, only to be greeted by three young women who immediately squealed in delight upon seeing her.
 
“Oh. Hi.”
 
“We’ve been waiting for you! Commander Hange told us you’d be joining us,” a brunette girl with lively eyes approached her first, practically bouncing in excitement.
 
Each of them, one after the other, greeted her with the customary two kisses on each cheek. As they drew close, Y/N instinctively took in their scents. ‘

One beta… two…’

Her nose wrinkled slightly as she tried to catch the faint traces of their biology. ‘

Low-class omegas?’

“Can I?” The brunette looked down, her eyes lighting up along with the others’ as they fixated on her hand. “The ring? Can we see it?”
 
‘Oh…’ Y/N grimaced slightly, uneasy. “Sure, but…”
 
It was obvious they expected something grand, something worth the wait. However, their excitement quickly faded as Y/N extended her right hand, revealing a simple gold band wrapped around her finger.
 
“It’s nothing special,” she said flatly.
 
A brief silence followed as the three young women stared at it, their excitement dimming despite their efforts to disguise it.
 
“Well… practicality is important too,” a blonde with striking hazel eyes murmured.
 
“Yes, of course,” another brunette with deeper chocolate-colored hair, nearly black, nodded. “What matters is… love! Of course, haha.”
 
The four of them nodded in unison, eyes briefly shutting as if sealing the sentiment.

‘Yeah… love,’

Y/N echoed the thought in her mind with a quiet sense of irony.
 
“Please, take a seat!” The lightest brunette, her copper highlights catching the light, led the way. “I’m Gretchen, Flegel’s sister.”
 
“The other blond guy is my brother too. I’m Lina,” the blonde introduced herself with a small grin.
 
“Sophia! I’m…” The darkest brunette hesitated for a moment, searching for the right term. “Flegel’s friend.” The three girls giggled mischievously at the vague definition.
 
“I’m Y/N… ehm, Captain Levi’s wife,” she introduced herself, following suit as they all took their seats. The girls promptly set about pouring tea and filling cups with elegant precision.
 
It would be a lie to claim there was an uncomfortable silence—on the contrary, the three seemed to be extremely close, their conversation flowing naturally. Their refined outfits and manicured nails spoke of their status, though Y/N couldn’t help but notice faint ink and graphite stains stubbornly clinging to the backs of two of their hands, betraying their frequent writing. ‘

So… she’s the sister of the other beta?’

Y/N silently observed as she took a small sip from her teacup.
 
“We’re going to a new pub downtown once the meeting is over! Do you want to come?” The focus shifted back to her, the offer delivered with an inviting smile.
 
Y/N sat perfectly straight, her posture flawless, legs neatly tucked, her fingers gently curled around the porcelain cup.
 
“Well, at least that’s what Flegel said,” Sophia added with an exasperated roll of her deep brown eyes.
 
“A pub?” Y/N repeated, briefly considering it. “Thanks, but… Levi probably needs to return before it gets too late.”
 
“That’s considerate,” the blonde noted with a sigh. “I’ve been begging my brother to finally take me to the pub. Ugh. It’s exasperating.”
 
Y/N hummed in understanding. It wasn’t difficult to piece things together—these girls were likely around her age, if not slightly older.
 
“Your husband doesn’t mind it?” she asked, only to be met with amused chuckles from the three.
 
“We’re not married,” Gretchen clarified, her tone casual.
 
Ah… The realization nearly made Y/N chuckle nervously. ‘

That explains the brother.’

It was well known that most women attended late-night events with a male companion—be it a brother, father, or husband.
 
“Yeah, we’re young. We’ve got time!” Sophia added with a carefree shrug, but a second later, she caught the implications of her words and quickly corrected herself. “I mean, but marrying young is also nice!”
 
“Yes!” One of them chimed in enthusiastically. “Has Captain Levi been courting you for long, until it was more appropria—… ehm.” She visibly floundered, realizing too late she was wading into dangerous territory. “I mean… courting you in general.” The forced chuckles and the abrupt shift in phrasing only added to the lingering awkwardness.
 
“Ah. Well.” Y/N found herself at a rare loss for words. In her usual social circles, the concept of an arranged marriage wouldn’t have needed explanation—it was more than common. But the middle class moved at a different pace, valued different things. “…He was very eager.”
 
It’s not a lie. They arranged everything in less than two weeks. It was like walking the edge of truth—neither false nor entirely honest.
 
“So! Have you moved here to Trost?” Gretchen asked excitedly, flashing a bright smile. “You should join us for our outings!”
 
Y/N took a measured sip of her tea, buying herself a moment before responding. She let the liquid pass down slowly before reaching for a pastry, cutting it neatly with a fork. “Oh, well. Ehm… I’m staying close to headquarters for now.”
 
“Oh? How close?” Lina pressed, mentally mapping the district she might be living in.
 
Smiling sweetly to mask her evasion, Y/N simply replied, “Very.”
 
“You’re from the Capital, right?” the business owner’s sister inquired while passing out delicate sandwiches to the others. Y/N merely nodded as she took a bite, strategically keeping her mouth full to avoid further questioning.
 
“Must be hard, leaving a big city for the countryside,” Lina mused sympathetically.
 
Overall, Y/N could tell the girls were genuinely trying to make her feel welcome, included even. But given how unusual her situation was—how difficult it would be to explain—she would have preferred the anonymity of being overlooked. Especially now, as the two low-breed omegas subtly wrinkled their noses, their instincts picking up on something just slightly off. Perhaps their beta lineage diluted their senses enough that they couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong. But they knew.
 
And that was enough to make Y/N want to keep her guard up.
 
“I wouldn’t have tolerated it,” Sophia added with a loud sigh, her eyes widening as if the mere thought was nightmarish. “In those wretched little towns of the south… after living in such a pretty, bustling city! Sometimes Trost even seems small to me! And you—you’re a beauty, being shut away in a place like that.”
 
“Thank you,” Y/N quickly responded, offering a polite smile. “You’re very pretty too, Sophi.”
 
“But the countryside has its charm!” the blonde insisted. “Doesn’t it?” Once again, the Captain’s wife merely smiled and nodded. “The houses are bigger, and there’s plenty of garden space—for the kids!”
 
At this rate, she feared the sheer absurdity of her situation would betray her forced expression of happiness at the mention of children. ‘

As if…’

“I guess you’re right,” the darkest brunette struggled, her expression betraying her skepticism. The reasons in favor of rural life didn’t seem nearly enough to convince her. “So, tell us, Y/N! What do you do there?”

‘Oh no…’

“Well,” she toyed with her fork, absentmindedly moving a piece of cake from one side of the plate to the other. “I wake up around mid-morning…”
 
The three girls nodded along, listening with polite enthusiasm.
 
“Then I have breakfast. Then lunch. And then I take a nap.”
 
A forced smile settled across her lips as the words left her mouth. The room fell into a moment of stretched-out silence as her audience processed her so-called ‘responsibilities.’ It was clear they had expected something more… substantial.
 
“You?” she asked, swiftly redirecting the topic.
 
“We work at the post office,” Lina said, gesturing between herself and Sophie. ‘

That explained the ink stains’

—most likely from writing all day until their hands ached.
 
“I do bookkeeping for the company,” Gretchen added.
 
“So you’re not working at the moment?” Sophia asked, tilting her head slightly.
 
Lips pressed together in a tight, vaguely amused smile, Y/N shook her head. “Nope.”
 
“Well, housekeeping is a full-time job,” Lina offered diplomatically.
 
“I don’t do that either,” Y/N admitted without hesitation.
 
Now, that earned a pause—a particularly long, uncomfortable one.
 
Until Sophia broke it.
 
“You know what? If I were a high-breed omega like you, I wouldn’t lift a single damn finger either. Good for you, sis.”
 
The four of them broke into soft chuckles at the bluntness, the tension diffusing slightly.
 
“You’re Flegel’s friend?” Y/N finally gathered the courage to ask, making the other girls exchange knowing looks as Sophie’s cheeks tinged pink.
 
“Yeah, friend who only shows up when his mother isn’t around,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
 
“I told you!” Gretchen laughed. “Your brother and I are not taking it seriously. We just want to have fun, that’s all! A girl is allowed to have that.”
 
“He’s changed a lot since his father’s death,” Sophia sighed, tapping a finger idly against the armrest. “I’m giving him a chance.”
 
“Despite how much you enjoy alpha guys,” Lina teased, shifting comfortably on the couch, pulling her feet up as she reached for a small tart.
 
The conversation took a shift, voices lowering as if the topic was now serious business.
 
Sophia scoffed, as if struggling with some internal dilemma. “He’s a sunshine and fucks me really well, but… you simply cannot make up for a knot.”

‘A… what?’

Y/N’s cheeks flamed instantly, her legs pressing together so tightly that it almost hurt. Her eyes widened, suddenly hyperaware of the conversation she had stumbled into. While her friends in the past had whispered about such things in careful, roundabout ways, none had ever been this open. Perhaps because they were all raised to wait—to preserve themselves for the sake of a good marriage. But women with salaries, women with their own independence, had a freedom she had never even been allowed to consider.
 
“Sophie!” Gretchen squealed in protest, laughing. “I don’t need to know that!”
 
But the dark-haired omega carried on, completely unfazed.
 
“You omegas complain so much, but you can only get pregnant twice a year at most! Meanwhile, I have to go around begging guys to wrap it up.”
 
“You guys… have monthly cycles, right?” Y/N asked hesitantly, seeking clarification on something she already knew. “That must be exhausting.”
 
“It sucks,” Gretchen admitted. “But it’s not as bad as yours.”
 
“The constant risk of pregnancy sucks more,” Lina sighed.
 
“I think it’s worse that we have to lock ourselves away for an entire week just because some asshole might claim us,” Sophia muttered, leaning back against the couch before pulling out a cigarette. “Fuck alphas.” She took a long, unbothered drag before exhaling. “But betas don’t fuck like them.”
 
“Aren’t you afraid of people catching their scent on you?”
 
Her timid voice barely broke through the conversation, curiosity getting the best of her. It was as if she had been granted access to a world she had never dared step into before.
 
“Well, you can buy scent concealers,” Sophia explained nonchalantly. “There’s a woman who sells them close by—it’s kinda illegal, but who cares? Though, I’m a low-breed. My scent’s hard to pick up anyway. Must be harder in your case.”
 
“Speaking of high-breeds…” Lina placed her teacup down, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. “So… how is our mighty Captain keeping you entertained?”

‘Oh no.’

The room suddenly felt small. Tight. Suffocating.

‘Lying about the details of our arrangement is one thing… but lying about something I have no idea about is another story.’

Back to playing with the food. Back to forced, pleasant smiles.
 
“Good.”
 
The three girls exchanged glances.
 
“Well…” Gretchen stretched the word, clearly hoping for something more. “That’s… good!”
 
“I bet he can’t keep his hands off you!” the blonde giggled. “You’re so pretty!”
 
Humming in vague agreement, Y/N limited herself to smiling.
 
“We were excited to meet you,” Gretchen continued, “because after the rumors of… what was her name?”
 
“Matty!”
 
“Yes, Matty! After her, we never heard anything else about him. Naturally, we got curious.”
 
“Humanity’s Strongest,” one of them added, the other two humming in approval.
 
“Hard to believe our beloved hero wasn’t having a thing or two.”
 
“Matty?” Y/N echoed before she could stop herself.
 
“Oh, she worked at the post office!” Sophie leaned in, eager to gossip.
 
“She told everyone she was sleeping with him after he became famous,” Lina confirmed. “She was a beta, so nobody could confirm it, but let’s just say… she was never received at the Scouts the same way after that.”
 
The blonde covered her face with one hand, barely containing her laughter. “She got cocky. Captain Levi’s always so serious and reserved—I bet he was furious when he found out she was spreading it.”

‘Oh… alright, that explains the stuff I found at the office.’

It was well known that alphas and omegas couldn’t conceive outside of a heat. Yes, contraceptives could be used, but it was unlikely. They were typically meant for betas. The thought had always lingered in the back of her mind when she found them in his drawers.
 
“She got cocky because he was just promoted, the town loved him, and he’s a high-breed paying attention to a beta,” Sophia explained, extinguishing her cigarette. “No offense.” She turned to the only beta among them, who waved it off.
 
“Yes, the town loves him a lot,” Y/n added. During her first visit to the South, it had surprised her. Nobody in the capital would have paid him that much attention—at least, not within her inner circle. “I wonder why,” she muttered, mostly to herself.
 
The silence that followed made her glance up from her teacup. This time, the three girls didn’t bother hiding their confusion.
 
“Well… because of what he did.”
 
Since that didn’t seem to ring a bell, they added, “At Wall Maria.”
 
“Oh,” she gasped softly. “Because of retaking Wall Maria, yes.”
 
“I mean, yes, but…” Gretchen glanced at the others, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But during the fall?”
 
This time, the question carried a second-hand weight—like they were testing if she was even worthy of being his wife. She stopped eating, pressing her fork against the delicate cutlery, nerves twisting in her stomach.
 
“Darling, you really know nothing, do you?”
 
“Captain Levi,” Sophia sighed, exasperated, “after the Scouts regrouped during the fall of Wall Maria, managed to hold the east front so civilians could evacuate before the titans reached them. At some point, there were almost no Garrison or Scout soldiers left to support the front line—it was just him. Most of the survivors escaped to Wall Rose because of him. That’s what earned him the title Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”

‘Please, someone take me out of here.’

She felt the weight of their scrutiny pressing against her chest. Her hands, restless with anxiety, kept toying with her food to keep them occupied.
 
“I mean, not to mention he helped the Trost District—and my family,” Gretchen added, as if it were just a minor detail.
 
“Golly, you guys truly know everything.”
 
Her sighed-out remark made the others freeze. Then, as if brushing it off, she began taking spoonfuls of food one after the other.
 
“Well… I’m sure you know way more important things,” Lina tried to smooth over the awkwardness. “When you two are together…”
 
“No, actually.” Y/n interrupted, her voice flat with feigned indifference. “We’re never together. As a matter of fact, we hardly see each other. When he’s not working, he’s having lunch with his squad. When he’s not doing that, he’s having dinner with the military board. Sometimes, he gets home so late that I don’t see him for days.”
 
She began listing facts as if there was no tomorrow.
 
“But what matters,” she declared, her voice dripping with sarcasm so thick it bordered on madness, “is that we are in love.”
 
A sharp, humorless laugh.
 
“So, so in love—that’s what everyone tells us. How in love we are.”
 
—
 
“So… how was tea time?” Levi finally broke the silence. She had been so distant on the way back that it was starting to worry him.
 
With the biggest, brightest smile, she exclaimed, “Lovely!”
 
It was so absurdly bright that Levi squinted at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious—or if she had completely lost her mind.
 
He exchanged a quick look with Hange, who stared back at him with the same confusion.
 
—

The office was suffocating under the relentless summer heat. Even indoors, the air felt thick and heavy, making every movement feel like a battle against the warmth. Near Levi’s desk, a cat lay sprawled across the cool floor, half-asleep, shifting occasionally as if searching for a nonexistent breeze.
 
Levi, unfazed by the stifling air, was hunched over a stack of paperwork, meticulously filling out forms and reports with his usual precision. Across from him, Y/N sat in a worn leather chair, visibly restless. Every few seconds, she let out an exaggerated sigh—loud and drawn out, each one more dramatic than the last.
 
After what felt like the tenth sigh, Levi, without even looking up, finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with irritation.
 
“Are you gonna keep sighing like a cow trying to scare off flies, or are you actually gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
 
Y/N startled slightly but quickly recovered, fidgeting with her hands before mustering the courage to speak. “Can I ask you someth—”
 
“I don’t have money.” Levi cut her off immediately, still not bothering to lift his gaze from the paperwork.
 
She scowled. “That wasn’t my question!” Her voice rose slightly, as if personally offended by the assumption.
 
Levi remained unimpressed. “Great, ‘cause I still don’t have any.”
 
Y/N rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “I wanted to have an adult conversation.” Her initial confidence wavered slightly as she muttered it under her breath, as if Levi’s dismissive attitude made her feel like a teenager being denied pocket money.
 
That earned her a brief glance. Levi arched an eyebrow, his tone as dry as the heat around them. “I thought all our conversations were adult conversations. We’re both adults.” He clearly wasn’t as invested in this discussion as she was, his focus still split between her and the stack of work in front of him.
 
Y/N hesitated, suddenly unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. “I… I couldn’t help but wonder…” But her words tumbled into an incoherent mess of mumbling, which eventually made Levi pause, his pen stilling as he looked at her with a mix of confusion and exasperation.
 
“What are you trying to say?”
 
She exhaled sharply, finally blurting it out. “I found something in the drawers.”
 
Levi’s expression didn’t change, but there was an unmistakable shift in the air. His voice took on a sharp edge. “You went through my stuff?”
 
There it was. A subtle but telling difference in how they saw this space. For Levi, it was still his—his office, his things. For Y/N, it was the drawers of the place they shared. A subconscious divide, a quiet reminder that, deep down, Levi still saw this as his space, and she was simply living in it.
 
“No! Well… not like that!” she defended herself quickly but didn’t seem to understand the problem. “I just noticed you have those, and… I think I know what they’re for, but we’re clearly not like that, so…”
 
Her words trailed off, her explanation a mess of half-finished thoughts.
 
Levi, who had been following along with mild curiosity, suddenly stiffened, his expression hardening as he pieced together her implication. His voice dropped flat, laced with disbelief.
 
“Are you asking me if I’m fucking someone else?”
 
Y/N’s eyes widened. “No!” But then, as if curiosity got the better of her, she tilted her head slightly, considering, “I mean, unless you wanna tell me.”
 
It was less an interrogation and more an afternoon gossip session, which only irritated Levi further.
 
“Do I look like I’ve got time to have another woman? I’m working all fucking day.”
 
She wasn’t convinced. “Well… I don’t know, you’re never here.”
 
And just like that, despite never having doubted him before, she suddenly found herself staring at him with new, suspicious eyes. The thought had never occurred to her until now, but in the blink of an eye, all those hours he spent away from their chambers seemed full of possibilities.
 
Levi exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, do I look like I have money to have another woman?”
 
She frowned. “What does money have to do with being unfaithful?”
 
A dry, almost amused smirk ghosted across his lips. “Cheating requires money—money for a hotel now that you’re in my chambers, money to make sure she doesn’t tell you. I’ve got none of it.”
 
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You seem very aware of how cheating works.”
 
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “I work in the military. Seventy percent of these men are stationed far from home, rarely seeing their wives. Take a wild fucking guess.”
 
After a moment of consideration, she sighed, “I guess that makes sense.” Then, waving his explanation off, she continued, “But that wasn’t my question.”
 
By now, Levi was fully invested in this ridiculous conversation. He leaned back, arms crossed, legs parted, waiting for whatever nonsense was about to come next.
 
He wasn’t prepared.
 
Blushing furiously, avoiding his gaze, Y/N mumbled, “Have you… lain with another woman?”
 
Levi blinked. Once. Twice. Processing.
 
His mouth parted slightly, his brain working through the absurdity of what he just heard. Then, as the meaning fully settled in, his brows furrowed deeply. Breaking eye contact, he frowned at the desk, as if hoping it would provide answers.
 
When he finally spoke, his tone was a mix of disbelief and sheer exhaustion.
 
“I’m 34. Almost twice your age. Are you seriously asking me that? What, you think I spent the last 34 years baking cookies?”
 
“N-no! I—I mean…” she stammered, flustered—until his words fully registered. Then, her expression shifted entirely, eyes narrowing as she snapped, “Wait. You’re 34?”
 
Silence.
 
Levi had expected confusion. Maybe more questions. What he didn’t expect was the sheer hatred that twisted her features as she squinted at him with pure resentment.
 
Then, with absolute venom, she seethed, “You wash your face with plain soap and don’t even wear moisturizer, and you have perfect skin at 34?! …Life is a fucking joke.”
 
Levi sighed, rubbing his temple as if warding off a headache. “Alright. What the hell is all this about? You’ve been acting weird all day.”  
 
Y/N, still fuming, crossed her arms. “Nothing.”  
 
“Right.” Levi’s voice was flat with disbelief. “Nothing, except you’ve been sighing at me like I killed your cat, and now you’re interrogating me about my skincare routine like it’s a crime.”  
 
She exhaled sharply, her frustration bubbling over. “Fine! I just want to know—” Her voice caught, and she had to steel herself before continuing. “Have you ever—or are you—sleeping with a beta?”  
 
Levi blinked, processing. His lips parted slightly, then pressed back into a thin line. “What?”  
 
“You heard me.”  
 
His brows furrowed. “Are you serious?”  
 
Her face burned with irritation, but she refused to back down. “Just answer the question.”  
 
Levi’s confusion deepened, his eyes narrowing. Then, suddenly, she added, “Like… Mattie.”  
 
There it was. The moment the pieces clicked into place.  
 
Levi sat back, exhaling through his nose as realization dawned. His expression turned half-bored, half-annoyed. “So that’s what you were talking about with those girls.” He scoffed, his right hand playing and dragging the skin around his eyes and eyebrows.. “That chick from six years ago? You’re really dragging this up?” He leveled her with an unimpressed stare. “I told you—I’m not fucking anyone else.”  
 
Y/N’s frustration only grew, her voice rising as she threw her hands up. “Yes, I was talking to them! Because I was

forced

to spend time with them! Which, by the way, I

hated

!”  
 
Levi ran a hand down his face, tired of the whole conversation already. “Then why are we still talking about this?”  
 
Y/N’s fingers tightened around the arms of the chair. “Because—” She hesitated for half a second before blurting, “Because I want to know what she was like!”  
 
Levi frowned. “What does that even matter?”  
 
Y/N’s jaw clenched. “Because everyone in Trost said it to me! The meat seller, the girls, the old ladies. Everyone said how pretty I looked!

Everyone!

Except for you.” She narrowed her eyes. “So I want to know. How horrible I am compared to the girls you like!”
 
Levi stared at her for a long beat, utterly lost. Then, finally, his brows lifted in understanding, and he let out a short, incredulous laugh.  
 
“You’re giving me a

jealousy

scene?”
 
Her short, breathy scream of irritation filled the office.
 
“MEOW!” The cat yowled in protest as she scooped it up and slammed the door to the adjoining bedroom behind her.
 
Levi remained seated in his desk chair, moving slowly and blinking in plain confusion.
 
“…I didn’t even remember that girl’s name.”
 
—
 
“Captain?” Armin called after him once the early morning meeting for dividing chores was over. “Do you have a moment?”
 
“What?” Levi was exhausted, and it wasn’t even midmorning.
 
“It was our idea to ask the merchants. I came to take responsibility, sir,” the blond added, clearly aware that it hadn’t been his original plan but still taking the blame for the whole team.
 
Levi sighed, closing his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Arlert.”
 
“Alright,” the current owner of the Colossal Titan slowly nodded in acceptance. “She seemed actually sad, and I wanted to clear things up.”
 
As Levi’s steel-grey eyes studied the teen with evident fatigue, Armin quickly clarified, “I didn’t want her to think you hated her for something we did.”

‘Hate her?’

Levi frowned, clicking his tongue and rubbing the back of his neck, fingers brushing over his undercut.

‘Oh, fuck me… I don’t hate you. I took you to Trost, didn’t I? I got you the food you like, I got you the damn cat. I’m even the one cleaning the shitty litter despite it being your job.’

Taking out his clock, he checked the time.

‘Fifteen minutes,’

he noted before his meeting. More than enough, in his mind, to settle this issue.

‘You walk in, you clean up the problem, and you walk out. Just… be patient

,’ he told himself with resignation.
 
Somehow, it reminded him of how explosive girls had been when he was younger—just like her. ‘

Maybe with age, you start to not give a fuck, as long as the other person isn’t causing you trouble,’

he mused.
 
When he walked in, she was curled up on the worn-out couch, the cat sprawled in her lap like a spoiled prince. The cat was purring like a little engine in her lap, soft paws kneading at her skirt as she cupped its furry face and pressed a kiss to its tiny mouth. His expression barely shifted, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes, a brief twitch of his brow.
 
"Tch." He dropped the jacket onto the chair. "You shouldn’t be kissing the damn cat in the mouth. He cleans his asshole with that," Testing the waters, he wondered if she had woken up in a better mood, if maybe—just maybe—the problem had resolved itself overnight.
 
She lifted her head, gaze locking onto his as her fingers gently scratched behind the cat’s ear. Then, without missing a beat, she tilted her head and said, "You’ve probably kissed people in places way worse than their lips. Who shower less than my cat."
 
For the first time, Levi actually faltered. It was quick, barely noticeable—the slight widening of his eyes, the momentary pause as if she had managed to knock him off balance. But then, almost as fast, the corner of his mouth twitched, his lips pressing together before a quiet chuckle escaped him.
 
"You know what," he murmured, voice edged with amusement and entretaiment "Fair."
 
 "Still fucking nasty, though."
 
Silence settled again, the tension still thick between them. Levi wasn’t the type to sweet-talk, but he wasn’t a complete idiot either. He knew he had messed up—he just wasn’t sure how to fix it without making it worse.
 
So, he tried.
 
Casually, he tried to brush it out. “You… look nice-r today,”
 
A pause.
 
She stared at him, unimpressed. "If you feel forced to say it, I don’t want it."
 
Levi’s jaw tensed. "Tch—I'm trying, alright?"
 
She didn’t answer. Just kept petting the damn cat like it was the only thing in the world worth her attention. His frustration simmered—he didn’t do this kind of thing often, and when he did, he expected it to at least be acknowledged.
 
So, without another word, he took a step closer, planting his hands on the back of the couch, trapping her in place. Before she could squirm away, his fingers threaded into her hair, gripping gently—not to hurt, just to hold her still. She immediately protested, a grumbled complaint leaving her lips, but he ignored it.
 
Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft peck to the top of her head. He lingered for just a second, inhaling the scent of her hair before murmuring,
 
"I’m really trying." His voice was low, tired, but honest. "Give me a break."
 
He pulled back slightly, his grip loosening—but he didn’t move away completely. His gaze flickered to hers, waiting. Staring at her over the back of the couch, he noticed the way her cheeks warmed up, lifting slightly and making her eyes squint in quiet happiness. That should settle it, he thought, satisfied. The subtle, sweet scent of her body reacting to his approach was enough for him.
 
"Do you think I’m pretty?" she asked, trying to hold back the cheeky excitement in her voice.
 
Levi hummed in approval. "I fucking told you that the night you arrived. I don’t know why you need to hear it again."
 
She chuckled. "I just want to know... What part of me do you like the most?"
 
She was definitely getting bolder—more than he remembered from a month ago.

‘She’s getting cocky

.’ He arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "I’ll tell you if you tell me why the hell you reeked like me the other day."
 
Her childish excitement immediately vanished, replaced by a heavy pout.
 
"I don’t like this game." She grumbled, shifting in her seat.
 
Levi exhaled sharply, straightening up. "I’ve got a meeting. Don’t break anything while I’m gone." To him, the issue was settled.
 
But it was like a drop of water for a thirsty man—the real problem was much bigger than a mere exchange of compliments or a reassurance that he was interested.
   
“I’m so sorry! I can explain! I’m sorry,” her rushed apology filled the air as he came back to his chambers after the meeting.
 
The office was a disaster. His paperwork was strewn across the floor, black ink smeared across his desk, the walls, and the carpet. The white cat, oblivious to the mess it had caused, sat in the center of the room, its fur stained with black, its tiny paws leaving prints across the once-pristine floor.
 
Levi stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes scanning the scene in disbelief, his lips pressing together in frustration. The papers that were covered in paw prints—his important reports, notes, the files he had meticulously worked on for hours—were now ruined. The mess, the stained carpet with the deep blank ink he used to work with. 
 
Levi’s gaze flickered from the cat to the mess and back to her, his hands at his sides, clenched into tight fists. His usual calm demeanor was starting to crack, and he fought to keep his temper in check. 
 
Y/N, who had been frantically trying to clean up the mess, immediately noticed him standing there. She stood up from her crouched position, looking at him with wide, apologetic eyes.
 
Her hands trembled as she tried to explain, but the words came out in a rush. "I—I can explain," she stammered, her voice rising in a mixture of panic and guilt. She gestured to the cat. "He was just playing with something while I was in the shower, and—and I didn’t realize—"

‘A shower? At 11 a.m.? Don’t you have something fucking better to do?’

Levi’s gaze snapped to the floor again, his eyes tracing the black paw prints that dotted the carpet. His mind was racing with the need to fix this, the sheer frustration making his jaw tighten. All of this was hours of work gone, replaced with chaos, and now he had to find a way to redo it all.
 
Despite her desperate attempts to calm him down, expecting a furious outburst, her worry only grew as he didn’t say a word. His combat boots made heavy, decisive steps as he moved through the office, bending down to pick up most of the papers spread out on the floor. He examined each one, seeing the ink stains that rendered them useless.

‘...Hours... I spent hours awake working on this,’

he thought, his frustration mounting.
 
Suddenly, without warning, his voice cut through the silence. “Come with me.”
 
Y/N blinked in confusion. “What? But—”
 
“Just. Come with me,” he repeated, the command in his voice clear, even though it wasn’t a shout.
 
He turned without waiting for an answer, walking out of the office toward the hallway. His expression was unreadable, though there was an undercurrent of frustration there. Y/N hesitated for a moment, glancing at the mess one last time, before following him. She couldn’t quite understand what he was asking of her, but the tone of his voice suggested it was something important.

‘What the hell got into him?’

she questioned as he calmly explained what she needed to do.

‘Is he testing me?’

she thought when he first handed her a knife and pointed to the barrels of potatoes. Despite her complete lack of skill with peeling potatoes, she somehow managed to turn them into French fries instead of properly peeling them. She did it without much complaint at first. But when he came back for another task, this time she wasn’t just confused—she was angry. Her previously pristine hands were now stained with dirt.
 
“My hands are dirty,” she complained, following him around once again.
 
Over his shoulder, while walking briskly, he replied, “Don’t worry, you’ll get them clean soon enough.”
 
The soapy water was clearly cleaning her hands and also drying them in the process. Y/N sat by a wooden tub filled with soapy water, her sleeves rolled up, her hands weakly pushing a scrub brush over a dirt-streaked shirt. Her movements were sluggish, half-hearted. Every scrape against the fabric felt like punishment, and she made sure everyone—meaning Levi—knew it.
 
"This is so boring," she groaned, dragging the brush as if it weighed more than a titan. "And stupid. And exhausting."
 
Across from her, Levi stood with his arms crossed, unimpressed. He watched as she barely moved the brush before sighing heavily, as if scrubbing a damn shirt had drained her life force.
 
"You should moan less and clean more," he said dryly.
 
She gasped, scandalized, turning to glare at him. "My arms hurt!" she cried, as though she had been forced into manual labor for days on end.
 
Levi raised an eyebrow. "It's the bare minimum."
 
She dropped the brush into the tub with a splash and flopped onto her knees, clutching her arms dramatically. "I am not made to marry poor," she announced, like some tragic heroine in an opera.
 
Levi’s jaw ticked. "We are not poor," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "You have a warm plate of food every day, a warm bed to sleep in, and a roof over your head."
 
At this, Y/N threw herself forward over the bucket, her voice carrying like a death wail. "OW! THE ECONOMY'S BAR IS ON HELL!"
 
“Keep going, I’ve work.” Levi declared, “Go back to the chambers when you’re over,”

The heavy oak door swung open, and Levi stepped into their chambers, sighing as he shrugged off the weight of the day. The room was warm—the summer heat lingering even after sunset. His fingers were already working at the buttons of his jacket, eager to peel off the stiff uniform clinging uncomfortably to his skin.
 
His gaze flickered toward Y/N, who was still kneeling on the floor, scrubbing furiously at the wooden planks. Her sleeves were rolled up, strands of hair falling loose from her bun, and there was a deep-set frustration in the way she worked. He had seen it earlier—she’d spent the entire day trying to get that damn ink stain out.
 
Levi exhaled through his nose. He wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, so he went for the usual—straightforward, casual.
 
“Told the others you’d be volunteering for kitchen duties from now on.”
 
Y/N froze mid-scrub, then slowly straightened up from the floor, turning to him with narrowed eyes.
 
“…What?”
 
Levi undid another button, acting as if he hadn’t noticed the warning in her tone. “You have so much free time, might as well put it to good use.”
 
Her brows furrowed deeper before realization struck, and her expression shifted from confusion to outright fury.
 
“If this is about the stained floor, I already said I’m sorry!” she snapped, hands flailing. “It’s not like I told the cat to knock over a bottle of ink on purpose! There’s no need to punish me like this! I already said I’m sorry!”
 
Levi sighed, yanking off his jacket. “That has nothing to do with this.”
 
But Y/N wasn’t letting him get away that easily. She stepped closer, voice rising as she chased him across the room. “Then why are you punishing me?!”
 
Levi gritted his teeth. He hated this—hated being chased around like some misbehaving brat while he was trying to strip off his uniform in this unbearable heat. He pulled at his cravat, tossing it onto the nearby desk. He hated being chased, he hated having to come back from working all day long to see her throwing a tantrum, he hated arriving to his place and everything being all over the place, he hated not having a single place to cold off and perhaps lay naked on his bed while reading a book and smoking a cig, he hated walking on eggshells, he hated it all.
 
“I’m not punishing you,” he muttered, exhausted.
 
“First potatoes, then laundry, now this. It sure looks like punishment!”
 
“That’s not punishment,” Levi shot back, pulling off his undershirt and tossing it aside. “That’s basic work.”
 
Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. “Then why can’t the cadets keep doing it?”
 
That was it—his patience, already running thin from the heat, snapped. Levi turned, pinning her with a sharp glare.
 
“The cadets aren’t servants,” he said firmly, voice clipped. “I’m not telling them to do your laundry.”
 
The silence between them stretched, broken only by the relentless song of cicadas outside. The heat of the summer night clung to the walls, thick and stifling, but it wasn’t what made Levi uncomfortable. It was the thought creeping into his head, the one he didn’t want to acknowledge— ‘

I miss my old life.’

His fingers pressed against the edge of his desk as he bowed his head slightly, inhaling deeply. He hated thinking like that. So he did what he always did—buried it.
 
“Plus,” he muttered, voice quieter but still firm. “Working keeps the mind busy. Helps you not think about bullshit.”
 
It was something he told himself every day, a mantra to keep moving forward, to not stop and think too much.
 
Y/N pouted at him, her lips forming a small, displeased curve. Maybe on another occasion, he’d find it cute. But not now. Now, all he saw was the frustration in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed with irritation. He could already tell— she thinks this is a punishment.
 
“I don’t know what kind of thoughts you have, but I like mine just fine, thank you,” she huffed, crossing her arms. Then, with a quieter sigh, she added, “I said I’m sorry.”
 
She didn’t say it for him—she said it for herself, as if trying to understand what more he wanted from her.
 
Levi let it slide. He was too tired. All he wanted was to drop into his chair, switch off the lights to dull the headache pressing against his skull, and maybe—maybe—pour himself a glass of the whiskey he’d been saving until exhaustion finally took him. Healthy? No. But he was long past caring about healthy habits.
 
Then, just as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, she mumbled something that made his movements still. Her whispered nonsense finally triggered him. “I can’t wait for them to give us a house,” he snapped.
 
Levi blinked. That forced him to straighten up, his eyes locking onto her as she casually gathered the cleaning supplies from the floor. “…What?”
 
Y/N stopped, turning to look at him, confused at his reaction. “That I can’t wait for them to give us a house,” she repeated. “The Scouts don’t even have a service area—”
 
“The MPs do,” she countered.
 
Without further ado, Levi dropped the weight he’d been carrying all day. And with that, something in him snapped. “Where the hell do you think we’ll be moving if they ever give me a house?” Levi asked, his voice dangerously even.
 
Y/N hesitated, but to him, the answer was obvious. So he answered for her. “Mitras.” Then, as if to spell it out, “Sheena.”
 
She shrugged, as if the answer was common sense. “Well… of course.”
 
The room suddenly felt too small.
 
Levi’s mind began drifting, his thoughts drowning out her voice as she started listing reasons—reasons that made no sense to him. Her long litany of reasons filled the room: “You travel there a lot, the Scouts are the main force, the best schools are there, my family is there—”
 
Her voice became distant, lost in the storm brewing inside him.
 
Her dreams, carefully planned and long held, were abruptly cut off by Levi’s soulless voice. “We’re not moving to Sheena.”
 
A brief, heavy silence reigned over their little home—a silence that spoke volumes. Her confused expression reminded him painfully of the first night she had arrived.

‘I should have taken the Band-Aid off a long time ago’,

he chided himself bitterly.

‘I’ve grown soft,’

he accused himself as if in the intoxicated version of him that wished  he could be a more loving partner that never existed. 
 
“But—”
 
“We’re not moving to Mitras,” Levi interrupted, his patience already paper-thin. “Not Mitras, not Sheena, not anywhere near it.”
 
She looked utterly perplexed, her voice trembling as she tried to reason. “But the Scouts are so important, you’re important—” she repeated like a broken record, clutching the cleaning products in her arms as if they were a cherished childhood teddy bear, offering a fragile sense of moral support.
 
Levi’s next words came with a bitter chuckle, one that held no real amusement. “You don’t get it.”
 
He leaned against the desk, looking at her like she was missing something fundamental.
 
“We’re not moving there—not because of status, not because of power. I hate Sheena’s walls.”
 
The words hit her like a slap. He could see it in the way her shoulders stiffened, her tear-filled eyes searched desperately for some reassurance—a kind of comfort she wasn’t sure she wanted.
 
“Even if I were remotely offered a house in Mitras or Sheena—which I doubt—I wouldn’t take it.” Levi interrupted, his tone final. “I hate Sheena’s wall, I hate Mitras, I hate Mitras’ streets, the posh schools, the posh people, the posh kids, the expensive households, their private, closed-up neighborhoods—I hate it all.”
 
Her voice was softer now, uncertain. “Why are you saying this…?” She shook her head, as if trying to piece it together. And then— “I’m sorry about the floor,” she muttered again, like that was somehow still relevant.
 
“THIS ISN’T ABOUT THE DAMN FLOOR.”
 
Levi exploded, his built-up patience shattered patience he’d been gathering since day one. Yet, when she made herself small in the middle of the room, clutching herself in fear and self-preservation and the stink of her scent showing fear and submission reached him, he regretted it. As alphas demonstrated supremacy over others, omegas reached for compassion. Her body released the aroma that said

“Don’t get mad at me, alpha, I’m just a baby,”

“It’s scary when you shout,” Her voice dropped to a timid murmur, so distant from the earlier tirade about going to Trost that it barely registered.
 
Levi clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, forcing himself to take a steady breath. “…I—” He hesitated, hating the way his voice wavered. But there was no stopping now. “I need you to grow up.”
 
Y/N flinched. In another time, that might have made him chuckle, but not now. “I need you to put your feet back on the ground,” he said, as though he’d known her forever, “I need you to be realistic.”
 
Y/N opened her mouth to retort, but no words came. Her request seemed absurd—she had never been especially dreamy or detached around him, she believed. Yet the initial terror of an angry alpha had been replaced by a gnawing dread of what this conversation might summon.
 
Levi exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I’ve been… trying to protect you, I guess.” He frowned, uncertain of his own words. “I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to make this easier for you. Maybe I thought—” He stopped, sighing through his nose before finishing, “—because you’re young, and I didn’t want to be an asshole.”
 
He paused, the words gathering strength. . “If—if—this shit lasts long enough for me to knock you up and the kid is born healthy or whatever… I don’t want them growing up in some classist little town.”
 
His gaze locked onto hers. “You understand that? You’re not doing laundry because it’s punishment for the damn cat knocking something off my desk. You’re doing laundry because it’s what you’re going to be doing from now on. You get that?”
 
Y/N looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.
 
“You’re not helping in the kitchen because I think it’s funny. You’re doing it because one day, you’ll need to cook for yourself.” Levi reasoned, his tone harsh but earnest. I don’t want nannies, help, servants, or butlers. You’re cleaning, cooking, and doing laundry because you need to help me out here.”
 
“And I’m not saying this because I’m one of those men who think this is your role or whatever. But I need a hand here.” 
 
To her, it felt like a bucket of ice-cold water—more than just chores; it was an implicit demand. “You’re in a position of power now. Don’t you want your kids to have the best chances?” she pleaded, nearly in tears. “With friends who can help them, with an education that gives them a real prospect—a nice house, everything.”
 
At this point, the stain on the floor was forgotten. The conversation took a drastic turn. “If we ever have a brat, I want them to grow up happy, doing whatever the fuck they want—not some classist asshole who thinks the world owes them a favor.”
 
She trembled, fighting back tears as the anger in her eyes wavered into raw, exposed hurt. Y/N swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. She wasn’t fast enough. Tears spilled, reddening her cheeks.
 
“Is that what you think of me?” she whispered, voice thick with hurt. “That I think the world owes me something?”
 
Levi exhaled, shaking his head. “Here’s a better question. Did all the posh bullshit you grew up with—the meticulously planned life your parents imposed on you—help you  now at all?” His words, sharp as a bullet, landed hard. “I wouldn’t give a damn if my kids grew up surrounded by high-class assholes. They’d be free to choose whoever they want.”
 
The final blow. It landed deep.
 
Between muffled cries, she managed to whisper, “I did this for my family,” she choked out. “For my sisters. What’s wrong with sacrificing for family?”
 
Levi’s gaze softened with something akin to pity. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, “Maybe because if someone tried selling my daughters off as breeding cattle, they’d have to go through my cold, rotting corpse first. I’m man enough to sacrifice for my family. I’m sorry your daddy can’t say that—and now you’re doing laundry.”
 
Silence. As tears streamed down her cheeks, perhaps for the first time since they’d met, she looked at him with pure, unfiltered hatred.
 
“Fuck you,” she spat. “And your stupid kitchen duties.”
 
With that, the bedroom door slammed shut, and her muffled cries echoed down the adjoining corridor, marking the bitter end of their argument.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

‘As long as I can remember…’
 She peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, her small fingers curled around the frame. Steam clung to the tiled walls, thick and heavy, but it did little to hide the figure inside.  Her mother lay slumped in the bathtub as if it were a bed. The water had long gone cold. 
‘My mother had trouble conceiving another child besides me.’
 “Mom?”  The little girl—no older than nine—hesitated before stepping forward. Her mother didn’t stir, her skin pale, hair clinging to her damp forehead. The exhaustion on her face was impossible to miss.  “Mom, are you okay?”  There was a quiet sort of desperation in her voice, a worry too big for a child to carry. Because there’s no fear greater than seeing your mother suffer.  A cold hand reached out, trembling slightly, and cupped her daughter’s cheek. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m alright, love.” Her voice was weak but steady. “This will be our lucky time, I’m sure.”  ‘Before my twin brothers arrived… I watched my mother lose pregnancy after pregnancy. Sometimes even in the later months’ The memories played in her mind like an old, weathered book, pages worn from being turned too often.  Sitting by her mother’s side, watching as she wept for another child she’d never hold.  Hearing the hushed whispers behind their backs.  "Let’s hope they’re finally blessed with another child."“An alpha child." Then came the twins. Identical boys. Strong, healthy, perfect in every way. Alphas. The apple of their father’s eye. Y/N was too young to understand all of it, but she saw what no one else seemed to notice—how her mother, after hours of agony, screaming in pain while the doctors rushed around her, finally sat there, pale and drained. But there was something else, too. A quiet relief. It’s over. But it wasn’t. Then came the triplets. Then Mae. More pregnancies in between—some successful, most not. And with each one, Y/N watched the toll it took on her mother. Harder, more painful, more exhausting. With every child added to the household, her mother seemed to slip further and further away.  At some point, she barely paid attention to any of them.  "Ma—Ma," little Mae babbled, reaching up to her with chubby hands.  Y/N froze, the weight of those two syllables sinking in.  “No, Mae. I’m not Mama,” she whispered. “I’m your sister. Sis.”  "Do what your sister tells you." It became a household mantra, repeated over and over again.  She learned young—old enough to care for them, but never old enough to have a say.  At family gatherings, the men—mostly alphas—talked about politics.  "Well, I—"  "Sweetie, men are talking. Why don’t you make sure the little ones aren’t breaking anything?"  She watched as her brothers—some barely ten years old—were drawn into the conversation, spoken to as equals. The women played cards, gossiping about things she wasn’t allowed to listen to.  After all, she wasn’t married yet.  "They just don’t understand. Omegas are… emotional." That’s what they called her when she accepted Dietrich’s courting.  He had arrived at her home wearing a suit his boss had lent him for the occasion, hands nervously clutching a small gift. A young, freshly promoted MP—not a noble, not a war hero, just a man trying his best.  "You could do much better," they told her, sighing dramatically, rolling their eyes.  But he was kind to her.  And that’s why she chose him.  Maybe it wasn’t ideal to wait a few years until he had enough savings for a proper marriage. Maybe his house wasn’t the grandest estate outside the city.  But with him, she could stay close to her family.  "And with my support, he’ll go far. We’ll grow together. His accomplishments will be mine, too." —  Dietrich’s voice was urgent, barely a whisper.  "Tell your parents something’s brewing. Here—" He pressed something small into her hands. "If anything happens, they’ll take you in."  Her stomach dropped. "B-But we’re not nobles… the Scouts are after the royals, not us—"  He was already moving, already disappearing into the chaos of his duties.  And then—  Everything happened too fast. Jewelry, money, anything of value was stuffed into clothes, hidden in hair, tucked into pockets.  Then came the pounding on the door.  Everything unraveled at once. MP sympathizers of the new government seized her father. Her mother screamed, fighting to free him. "Mom!" Y/N rushed forward, only to be yanked back by a soldier’s iron grip. Pain shot up her arm as she gasped.  "Grab your siblings and get the fuck out if you know what’s good for you."  The cries.  Her siblings’ hysterical wails.  Mae screaming as Y/N tried to shove shoes onto her tiny feet.  "Y/N! THE CAT!"  "I DON’T WANT SHOES!"  "What’s going to happen to Mom?!"  "We need to go with Dad!"  "And Grandma?!"  "QUIET!" Her voice cut through the hysteria like a blade. For a single breath, the room fell silent. "Arthur," Y/N forced herself to stay steady, to be the pillar they needed, "help Grandma walk. Grab her medicine from the nightstand."  She turned to the others, voice firm, unyielding.  "The rest of you—hold hands. Follow me."  Walking in the dead of night with a hand-drawn map to someone else’s house wasn’t in her plans—especially not while she was leading a ragtag band of children, clutching a cat in one arm and supporting a frail, elderly woman in the other. “Y/N, I’m tired,” the youngest whimpered. Someone once said that omegas weren’t strong, that they were delicate things meant to be sheltered. But Y/N walked on, carrying her sister and the cat, making sure the triplets stayed close.  "We’re alright," her eight-year-old sister reassured the others with unwavering confidence. "Y/N’s got us." Blind faith. A high-ranking MP took them in quickly, sheltering them from the night. She cut meals into bite-sized pieces for her younger siblings. She wrapped warm clothes around her grandmother’s swollen feet, easing the pain of her diabetes.  Later, as she sat down to rest, the only compliment she received from an old soldier was, “You’ll be a great mother one day.” The gentle pat on her shoulder made her nod slowly as he murmured, “Maybe soon.” She knew what he meant. He was referring to her engagement to Dietrich, his subordinate. Later that night, with all seven of them crammed together on the same bed, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of her brother’s head.  "What’s gonna happen to Dad?" Arthur asked.  "They’ll be alright," she reassured him, voice steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at her. "They’ll free Mom soon. Then Dad."  Arthur—who lately had been more annoyance than little brother, as pre-teens often were—held onto her words. Because no matter how much he tried to act grown, he was still just a boy.  And she was still his sister.  — Now, she sat alone on a bed much smaller than that one. It should’ve felt peaceful. Instead, unease pressed against her chest, heavy and suffocating.  She held the letters her siblings had sent to Levi’s office—letters she wasn’t sure had found their way there, but they were filled with tears and hope. There was Mae’s messy art, a riot of colorful scratches that barely concealed its underlying chaos. Her little sister, Gretel—one of the triplets—had written a letter on behalf of all three, her neat handwriting standing out among the scribbles: “We are back at the manor house of the East. The lake is fantastic for swimming this year! I’m learning to paint with pastels, just like you. Arthur is being insufferable.”  Then there was Patrick’s note—always the sensible one living in the shadow of his older twin—“I miss you here. I feel invisible,” among other scattered updates. But three messages resonated above all else: a chorus of “We miss you,” repeated over and over. On the back of Mae’s art, her grandmother’s handwriting read simply, “I am an artist, like my sis.”  Probably because the little girl didn't know how to write just yet. And then came her own mother’s letter: “I’m expecting again. Your father and I hope that the next news of a new member will come from you. Make us proud." She sat frozen, the words echoing in her mind.  If Levi weren’t the clean freak that he was, dust would have gathered on her pinned-up hair with how still she remained. Even breathing felt like a task.  ‘How are they going to handle another child?’ The thought twisted bitter in her mouth. ‘Mae is barely looked after as it is… Another baby. The doctor told Mom to stop, said her body couldn’t take another.’ Levi’s words crashed into her thoughts, sharp and unforgiving:  "I need you to grow up." She stared at her siblings’ letters, at the love and admiration woven into every word.  And yet—  Somehow, time had never moved past that night.  The night she sat waiting for news of her father’s release.  The night she told herself everything would be alright.  She was still there.  Frozen in delusion.  Everyone else had moved on.  Her throat ached—not from sickness, but from the screams she had swallowed, the tantrums she had never allowed herself to throw.  At the funeral, she sat alone.  The casket was sealed, ready to be lowered into the earth, ash waiting to be scattered.  She turned to the right.  Her family, laughing, already discussing how they would use the fortune they had inherited.  She turned to the left.  Levi, muttering under his breath, "I actually always hated Mitras."  She looked straight ahead.  ‘I’m the only one mourning her,’ she thought bitterly, attending her own funeral inside her head. ‘I’m sorry that my dreams weren’t noble enough.’. Her mind began to craft a speech—a soliloquy. Levi had asked her once if she read the newspapers, if she understood the real issues happening within the walls.  
‘I was never allowed to even think about politics.’
 ‘I’m sorry I’m not good at anything,’ she thought, remembering the way the cadets had stared when she couldn’t ride a horse.  The way Sasha had lamented the potatoes she had peeled wrong.  The laundry she had washed just yesterday, still stained, no matter how hard she scrubbed.  
‘I was never taught anything except how to care for children.’
 
‘I’m sorry that it’s hard for me to grow up. I’m mourning the only dream I was ever allowed to have."
 — Later that night, in the quiet recesses of Commander’s office after hours, Levi and Hange found themselves sitting down on the main window frame. The memory of Levi’s argument with Y/N still clung to him like a second skin, and the silence between the two soldiers was thick with unspoken regrets and half-remembered frustrations. Levi broke the stillness, his voice low and rough with remorse. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the dark liquid swirling in his glass. The bitterness of regret mingled with the tobacco smoke that curled from his cigarette. Hange leaned back, a pained groan escaping him. “Mh… God, I miss the old times,” they said, their tone wistful as they recalled a simpler era. “When my only worry was convincing Erwin to let me capture a titan, and the only bitching I heard from you was about how shitty the mess hall was.” A sardonic smile tugged at Levi’s lips. “The mess hall is still fucking shitty,” he replied, a flash of humor breaking through the cloud of melancholy as he flicked away a stray ash. Hange’s laugh was short and half-amused. “And hearing you complain about your marriage life wasn’t on my bingo card,,” they added, their eyes twinkling with mischief. “Neither mine,” Levi admitted, taking a long, measured drag from his cigarette before passing it over. “I understand her, but who the fuck understands me? Sometimes her stubbornness gets on my last fucking nerve—I wish I could just force her to listen.” Hange’s gaze softened with both empathy and playful challenge. “You lost your temper around your omega. That’s what alphas do, right? She must be used to it by now. You know what would force her to obey? An alpha’s glance and bonding.” Levi scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he shook his head. “Tch, don’t start with you too. I get it—if I were an omega, I’d be fucking tired of being bossed around.” The commander shrugged as if the issue was too big for them to bother solving—too big to even care about solving. “Seriously, why are you even asking me?” they asked, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “I’m not married.” Levi clicked his tongue, raising his glass. “Who the fuck should I ask, then? Nobody I know is married.” Hange rolled their eyes, a reluctant grin tugging at their mouth. “Uhhh, Nile? He’s married—with three kids.” Levi grimaced in pure disdain as he knocked back the alcohol. “Ugh. But Nile’s an idiot. Forget it.” Then, with a conspiratorial glint in his eye, Hange leaned in as if sharing a well-kept secret. “Or… you could do what Erwin did when he and Marie used to fight. He’d close the jars so tight that she’d have to ask for help—son of a bitch, that man knew how to keep things in line.” Levi’s expression softened into a half-smile, touched by the absurdity of the memory. “...Maybe I understand why they broke up,” He swirled his drink thoughtfully. “He must’ve been a delight of a boyfriend for her to drop a high-breed alpha and settle down with a stupid beta like Nile, whose brain is as thin as his beard.” Hange shrugged nonchalantly, their tone light yet laced with sympathetic resignation. “Oh well, at least she could leave. Y/N can’t divorce you, so..” The night air was cool—just enough to take the edge off the heat. Neither of them spoke, but in unintentional synchronicity, they inhaled deeply and exhaled in exhausted unison. A moment of silence. Glasses emptied. Cigarettes burned to the filter. Then, Hange leaned forward, their tone shifting from playful to serious.  “So, have you told her already?” they asked, their voice low and insistent. Levi exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the rim of his glass. “Not yet,” he admitted, the admission hanging heavy in the stale air. Hange’s eyes searched Levi’s face as they pressed further. “Lev…” “Lev…” they dragged out his name, hoping the single syllable would knock some sense into him. “The longer you let this run, the harder it’ll be to fix.” Levi’s hand tightened around his glass as he spoke, the weight of his decision palpable. “I’m planning to take her with me to Mitras—one last weekend with her family and friends. After that, I’ll tell them about the move.” His voice was steady, laced with bitterness. “Tch,” Hange arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. “Maybe she’d appreciate it more if she knew she’d be leaving this place for at least a year. Give her the chance to say a proper goodbye,” Levi shook his head. He had already made up his mind. And once his mind was set, there was no changing it. “She should be able to enjoy it without that weight on her.” Hange sighed dramatically. “Give her some freedom. That would calm her down.” Levi stood up with a quiet grunt, stretching slightly, ready to leave. “Or,” Hange offered as if it were an afterthought, “you could just apologize.” Levi frowned. “I’m not apologizing. I’m right.” Hange chuckled, shaking their head. “God, you’re so lucky the divorce petition never passed.” “Tch. Goodnight, four-eyes.” “It’s three now!” — The first morning, she tried to help with kitchen duties but gave up quickly after struggling to light the enormous stove—nearly burning her hair in the process. Connie and Sasha chuckled at the sight. “I can’t take this,” she muttered under her breath, hearing Mikasa’s reprimanding slap land on the back of Connie’s head, followed by his loud, “HEY!” ‘I know it’s not much. I know I should laugh about it,’ she thought, but she simply couldn’t. It wasn’t about the kitchen duties or waking up early. It was everything else. ‘Am I asking for too much? Just one day without being enclosed, dragged around, or laughed at?’ “Where were you?” That was the only thing Levi said when she stepped through the door. 
‘Are you fucking kidding me? You tell me to get a job, and then wonder where I am?’
 Needless to say, the rest of the week passed in silence—not out of comfort, but because neither of them had the energy to deal with the other. It was a cold war. Whoever broke first would be both the loser and the winner in a situation where there were no real wrongs or rights.

‘I’m not asking for much.’

‘You treat me like a child. You enclose me like a child. You boss me around like a child and then get mad when I do something. Sorry that I haven’t done much since I got here—half my time has been spent locked up like a damn prisoner.’

‘I should’ve said that better. That was just me bitching.’

‘I know you’re not a bad person.’
 It wasn’t a battle of egos. It was a battle of endurance. Who could take more? A subtle clearing of the throat broke the silence. “Y/N. Come here,” Levi called. Since their last argument, she had gone back to avoiding him—staying shut in the attached room when he was around and only coming out when he was gone. Lately, that had been most of the time. She assumed he was avoiding her, but judging by the dark circles under his eyes, the truth was he had been working extensive hours. “Yes?” She peeked through the door, her expression wary. White paper and a pen sat atop his desk. His knuckles tapped against the surface. “Write to your family and friends. I need to travel to Mitras for an important meeting.” Her eyes flickered with interest, stepping fully into the room. “One weekend,” he continued. “I already booked a room at the Military Hotel. Go, hang out, and…” 
‘Give her more freedom.’
 “…do whatever the fuck you want.” His voice carried a resignation so heavy it was hard to disguise. “And you?” she asked in disbelief. “I’ll be at a military board.” “All weekend?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Important stuff. None of your business,” Levi concluded. She didn’t press further—not this time. Instead, she stepped forward to pick up the envelopes, only to be stopped by him. He held the hotel reservation on her eye level, forcing her to meet his gaze. “One weekend,” he said firmly. “You hear me? Just one.” She knew what he meant: ‘Don’t get your hopes up. We’re not moving. This is a one-time thing.’ But she didn’t withdraw the silent challenge in her eyes. Neither of them was happy. Neither of them had let it go. Something felt off. Peering past the chamber’s curtain, she observed how the cadets had spent the week packing boxes instead of training. How the hallways had become more crowded with unfamiliar faces—people moving quickly, rushing, the air thick with an unspoken urgency. Something was happening. “Are you all coming?” she asked as they prepared to leave, her voice tinged with suspicion. The entire squad was gathered out front, ready to depart—far earlier than necessary. To her surprise, despite the mild temperatures, they were back in formal attire: white uniforms, high boots, and long green trench coats. “Ah, yeah!” Sasha started, but a sharp nudge from Connie cut her off. “It’s an important meeting,” he finished vaguely. Y/N smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s fine. You can tell me,” she insisted, mostly because she wanted to feel included in something. Anything. “State secret,” Eren said with all the determination of someone taking his role way too seriously. Her resigned smile wasn’t out of understanding but out of quiet depression. 
‘I wish… I didn’t feel excluded all the time.’
 The only reassurance she had left was that, in a few hours, she’d be surrounded by the girls she grew up with. That, for one fleeting weekend, she’d have something to hold onto—a shared memory, an inside joke, a place where she still belonged. A loud exhale accompanied their tight embrace. “Y/N! God, it’s so good to see you!” the brunette exclaimed as they pulled apart. “Come in!” “Oh, Anne!” Y/N cried, moving to hug her friend again. But Katharine gently raised a hand, signaling for restraint, her gaze flickering downward. Y/N followed her eyes and gasped at the barely noticeable bump. “Oh, my goodness, congratulations!” As the six young women settled around the tea table, a maid entered, gracefully serving each of them. “Thank you,” Y/N murmured as she received her cup. Two toddlers toddler about, arms raised in silent pleas to be picked up. Two newborns, barely past two months, nestled in their cradles. One pregnant woman. And then—her. The other women sat poised with perfectly styled updos and elegant dresses suited for the occasion. Y/N’s eyes flitted over the scene, noting the difference in attire. Her friends exuded sophistication and maturity, while she still wore the handful of dresses she had brought when she moved—all remnants of her single life almost childish. Their hair was pristine, likely done by a professional or personal maid. And then, there were their hands. Each bore two gleaming bands: a heavy diamond engagement ring and a wedding ring, some adorned with additional jewels. Instinctively, Y/N withdrew her own hands from the table, hiding them in her lap. But the movement drew more attention than it concealed. “Tell us, Y/N! Did you take the opportunity to get your ring cleaned while in the Capital?” “Oh, yes!” The lie slipped out effortlessly. The oldest of the six omegas, only a few months senior to Y/N, regarded her with piercing blue eyes, scanning her up and down before offering a measured smile. She was the owner of the house. Y/N’s gaze flickered over their necks, where bite marks proudly declared their claimed status. Some had faded into scars, while others, like Anne’s, were still red and fresh from recent nuptials. “We’re so glad to have you here,” the hostess continued, the others nodding in agreement. “Are you and the Captain looking for houses in the area?” Y/N took tiny sips of her tea, attempting to make it last. “Yes… well,” she gave a nervous chuckle, “Yes.” The second lie. “It’s complicated,” Sussy chimed in, her voice sympathetic. “The economy has been unstable with all the new laws and changes. The Capital isn’t as safe as it used to be.” “Yes! John and I just bought a house, and it wasn’t easy!” Anne, the youngest at eighteen, placed a protective hand over her small baby bump.
 
‘Since when do we discuss politics?’ Y/N mused, surprised by the shift in conversation. “With so many people moving to Wall Maria now that it’s habitable again, finding good help has been a nightmare,” Anne added. “We had to hire one of those… underground girls.” Y/N froze, lowering her cup. “What?” She turned sharply to Anne. Anne merely nodded. “It’s a new policy. The government is offering work opportunities to them, and households get a tax break for hiring from the program.” “I told you to keep an eye on that woman,” Grace spat, the oldest of the group. “They can’t be trusted.” “Let’s talk about something less dreadful,” another interjected smoothly. “I’ve already put in a good word for all of us to ensure our children are accepted into the academy.” A round of polite applause followed. Y/N forced a smile and clapped along. “I’m telling you, Y/N, the director adores me. I’ll make sure yours gets in, too.” “Cindy, you’re a miracle!” someone gushed. But Y/N sat frozen, her smile brittle. ‘Mine?’ Levi’s words echoed in her mind: I hate those posh schools. “They’ll be classmates!” Grace and Anne clutched hands, excitement in their voices. Both were clearly pregnant again. “Your bump is so big!” “The doctor thinks it may be twins. A true blessing,” Anne beamed. “A multiple pregnancy will prove my worth.” It was common knowledge that high-bred omegas were more likely to bear multiples—a testament to their value. “Congratulations,” Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt detached, as though she were observing from afar. “It will make John happy. An alpha with children is a happy one,” Grace commented while slicing her treat. “And that means he’ll have a good excuse to spoil you—finally get you a maid worthy of your status.” “Grace...” Anne sighed, exhausted. Clearly, this was a repeated conversation. “You heard the priest,” Grace said matter-of-factly. “They are not like us. Their way of living is different. They carry diseases.” Y/N clenched her jaw but, before she could take a bite of food, she whispered in disbelief, “That’s a horrible thing to say, Grace.” An unspoken rule dictated that one did not challenge the owner of the house, especially the eldest of the group. The brunette met her gaze with a cool, assessing look. “It’s the truth. I’d do anything to protect my children,” Grace said, each word a challenge.  A pause. Then, deliberately, “If,” she emphasized the word cruelly, “you ever have yours, I’m sure you’ll understand.” Y/N’s throat tightened. “If?” Sussy reached over, placing a gentle hand over Y/N’s in silent reassurance. Grace, unaffected, dabbed at the corners of her mouth with almost clinical precision. “I actually know a great doctor…” Y/N exhaled sharply. “I was very stressed, Grace,” she bit out, each word laced with controlled fury. “Very.” Grace raised her hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying. You wasted too much time waiting for Die, and with your mother’s history, it’s best to start sooner rather than later.” “Let’s change the subject,” Sussy urged. The rest of the conversation faded into background noise. The words blurred together, a droning hum like cicadas in the training fields. Y/N’s fingers fidgeted in her lap, her mind drifting. Distant. Detached. Delusional. She smiled when required, gave practiced responses. But only once did she lift her eyes from her lap. “How was the hangout with your friends?” “Uh?” The question snapped her out of it. She raised her eyes to meet Levi, who was half-dressed—white uniform pants on, boots, shirt half-buttoned, and a towel around his hair as he scrunched out the water. She frowned in confusion. “Weren’t you working?” she asked, almost sleepy. His presence felt like a supernatural activity—when had he arrived? When had she arrived? Since when had she been sitting back in the hotel room? He frowned back, looking more concerned than she did. “Yeah, I came to take a shower before the late-night meeting,” he replied. “I just told you so.” He tilted his head toward the open bathroom door, steam still billowing out, his body shifting slightly as if to give her space to check for herself. “Why?” “Because this city is fucking hot and humid, and I was tired of feeling all sticky,” Levi muttered, moving around the room as he finished dressing. He buttoned the cuffs of his shirt with practiced ease. She looked back down at her lap. Her fingers weren’t fidgeting anymore. There was a small, folded piece of paper resting there. ‘I found it under the door, right?’ The thought felt distant, like a memory that wasn’t hers. She unfolded it carefully.

I just want to talk. Tomorrow, 15:00. —Die
 And an address. “So?” Levi pressed. Quickly folding it back up, she blinked. “Sorry, what?” She glanced up at him. Hands on his hips, his sharp eyes scrutinized her. “Your friends. How was the hangout?” he repeated. Then, after a beat, “You okay?” “Good,” she nodded—small, quick movements. “Very good.” Maybe he should have pressed further. She didn’t seem there, not really. ‘Maybe she’s still mad. Or tired from the trip… or the heat… maybe her blood pressure dropped a little.’ His mind searched for excuses as he accepted her answer, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Good then,” he finally nodded to himself. ‘She had a good time. That’s what matters’. As if any little moment of enjoyment that weekend would make his own task easier in the long run. “Tomorrow… your folks?” he checked, making himself a mental schedule of her activities. “Or are you going tonight and staying there?”
 
‘Tomorrow.’ Her eyes flickered with something, a momentary spark. She swallowed. Then she smiled. “Yes.” She lied. Her family wasn’t in the capital. They had moved to the countryside to escape the summer heat. “Alright then.” Levi pulled on his long green trench coat, which felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in this weather, but mandatory was mandatory. He rummaged in his pocket. “Take a cab, okay? It stays light late, but don’t walk too much.” he said while pulling out a few bills and leaving them on the nightstand. Without waiting for a response, he moved up to her and ruffled her hair a little. “Stay safe.” In barely more than a whisper, she replied, “Sure.” Before heading for the door, Levi glanced back at her, as if debating something, then added, “We’re leaving early tomorrow, so be back before 17. Don’t get caught up, alright?” She only nodded, forcing another small smile. It was a bad mix, the perfect combination for the worst outcome. Maybe, in a theater, it would be represented by a wailing song that grew faster and faster, the tempo rising until it detonated—slowing, then finally cutting off as the main character reached the peak of insanity. Or perhaps, it would be shown through all the colors quickly withdrawing, leaving everything in a monotone shade of gray, as the feelings stopped working. Until the only one left was the wish to go back in time—to make it all stop. The hotel was lovely. It was obvious that Levi had never used his rank to secure a stay there because he seemed just as lost as she was upon their arrival. Though, the most confused of all was the receptionist, who could hardly believe he had actually made a reservation. Maybe, under different circumstances, she would have been delighted to be there—the gilded walls, the expensive furniture. The dining room with its individual tables, each set apart like small islands of exclusivity. “Ma’am,” the waiter bent down as he placed her meal before her. “Enjoy it.” She managed a bittersweet smile. But he frowned—tears were slipping from her eyes. There’s something so peculiar about watching someone unable to hold back a cry. A disconsolate cry. No anger, no fear—just plain hurt. The chef’s carefully prepared dinner, the candlelight, the posh accents in every corner. The MPs in uniform moving in and out, the shadows of women in expensive dresses switching tables to laugh with friends. The camaraderie as soldiers lit cigarettes and chuckled, the older ladies who knew exactly what to order from the bar, the children of important members running around. Everything that should have given her a sense of belonging—didn’t.
 
‘If I don’t relate to them,’ she thought, recalling the two separate tea gatherings with different groups of friends, ‘then who do I relate to?’ She lifted her eyes, observing the scene. Every table was filled with company—girls brought to impress, families, soldiers. But the table for two had only her. Her salty tears seasoned her meal as she gripped her fork. She imagined the cadets chatting over the meeting, Levi smoking with Hange, her family gathered by the lake at the estate. 
‘The streets are full of strangers.’
 There’s a world in between being alone and feeling lonely. And there’s no quieter pain than watching everyone else enjoy life while you stand on the outside, untouched by it. “Your folks?” Levi’s question echoed in her mind as she hid her face in her hands, muffling her silent cries beneath the lively music of the musicians hired to brighten the night. And a foolish regret surfaced—a wish. 
‘I should have told him. I should have said that they refused to travel to meet me. That my friends are strangers now. That it doesn’t have to be Mitras or Sheena, I just want to be close to my family, be there for my mom… that I promise, I swear I promise I’ll try harder. But if he could just stay over for dinner—’
 
‘I simply… don’t want to feel alone another day.’

—

“Y/N, I’m back.” Jacket tossed onto the bed, fingers tugging at his cravat, Levi rolled his neck to the side, feeling like he was boiling in his own clothes. But then—silence. Too much silence. “Y/N?” He moved through the ridiculously large room, crossing to the bathroom and dressing area, knocking once. Nothing. “Oi, brat. You in there?” He knocked again before opening the door. Not even a mouse inside. A quick glance at his pocket watch. 16:30. “Fine. Let’s give her some time. I said 17.” He muttered to himself, but whether it was his soldier instincts, his Ackerman blood, or the sharp sense of an alpha, something felt off. He folded his clothes, put away the papers regarding the upcoming expansion in a secure spot, and even refolded her clothes, despite the fact that she had already done it herself. Made the bed. Re-folded his own clothes. And before he realized it, he was tapping against the glass front desk of the hotel. “Have you seen a girl—” he corrected himself quickly, “My wife?” The receptionist frowned, looking momentarily confused. “She left earlier today, sir.” “No.” Levi shook his head. “She left last night.” The girl hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly. “I’m pretty sure she had dinner here at the hotel last night, sir.” Levi blinked, exhaling sharply through his nose. “So, the whole family came here for dinner?” It was one of the best hotels—he figured that could’ve been the reason. A brief, unreadable exchange between the two staff members behind the desk. “Ehm…” she hesitated, making his mouth run dry. “I could ask the kitchen staff if you wish, sir, but I’m fairly certain she had dinner alone last night. And she left a couple of hours ago.” A cold weight settled in his gut. “She rented a cart?” “She left walking, sir.”  It was the calculated calm of someone feeling anything but that. Running a hand through his dark hair once, then again, he turned on his heel and strode briskly down the corridor, almost knocking into Hange along the way. “Hey!” they protested. “Have you seen Y/N?” Levi cut in immediately. A beat of silence. “She isn’t with you?” “No,” he deadpanned. “I’m asking because it’s funny.” Hange let out a nervous chuckle, but the grin vanished as they took in Levi’s state. “You’re kidding, right?” No response. “You lost her?” “I didn’t lose her,” Levi snapped. “I gave her the weekend and told her to be back before 5 p.m.” “You gave her THE WHOLE WEEKEND?!” “You told me to give her more freedom.” “Since when do you take me seriously?!” Hange yelled, as if the very idea was absurd. — She gasped each time she glanced over her shoulder. It was broad daylight, the sun beating down on her, making her sweat. Her skin itched from the burn. There was no one chasing her—only her own conscience. She wasn’t checking because she feared being followed. She was checking because she still hadn’t decided whether to turn back or keep going. Unfolding the paper, she reread the information and double-checked the streets. It’s the right direction. She wasn’t entirely sure what had pushed her to agree to the meeting. The little lies she told herself were, ‘We’ll just talk, and Levi said I could spend time with my friends, and deep down, Die is my friend.’ There’s nothing more accusatory than an unjustified fear. If there’s no guilt, there should be no fear. But if there’s fear, there’s guilt. And if there’s guilt, then there’s an unbroken vow. Reduced to simple terms, it really is that simple. For a moment, her worries faded as she walked between the meticulously shaped bushes of an open park. Then, she saw him. Sitting down, waiting. Her body froze. Her heart fluttered, and despite the heaviness in her chest, a small sense of relief washed over her. The moment their eyes met, she couldn’t stop herself. She rushed forward and embraced him tightly, her arms wrapping around him with a desperation she didn’t expect. He held her back, his arms strong and warm. She allowed herself to have this. Just this. Being held tightly. They sank into the bench, clinging to each other. “I missed you,” he whispered. But she only hummed. Somehow, she couldn’t say the same. Her heart hadn’t particularly missed him—perhaps just the companionship. His large hand stroked her back gently as she buried her face in his chest, and for a second, it felt like everything she had needed. But each breath she took, each inhale that carried his scent instead of Levi’s, made her stomach turn. “I just want to talk,” she whispered. “It’s been a very difficult few months.” He buried his face in her neck, their hair tangling together. “Of course.” He ran his hand up and down her back, offering a comfort she didn’t know she needed. “I—I thought I was mad about all this. The whole arrangement,” she admitted, her voice hollow. She let it all spill out—how difficult it was to adapt, how being far from everyone she knew was consuming her, how lonely she felt spending days on end completely alone. “I thought I was mad that Levi dismissed all my wishes like they were pointless. Everything I thought was important…” She hesitated, referring to her dreams of what a family should be. “But… I’m not sure anymore. The people I used to know—they’ve become horrible.” His fingers never stopped their soothing motion, but she could feel her own chest tightening. She wiped away a stray tear and added, distressed, “Or… maybe they always were, and I just never noticed.” Doubt crept into everything. Was the sky blue? Was the grass green? She wasn’t sure anymore. What was her role in all this? She only knew one thing. “I just wish I didn’t feel so alone,” she confessed softly, her voice muffled against him. The life of a scout—and, in particular, their partners—could be incredibly lonely. It wasn’t for everyone. In their tight embrace, she sought support. Someone to confide in, just as Levi did with Hange. Dietrich didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled her closer, his body warm and protective around her. They stayed like that for a while, their heads resting against each other’s necks. She could feel his breath on her skin, and he seemed to inhale deeply, as if trying to take in more of her. Then, as if the weight of the moment had shifted, he finally spoke, his voice low and serious. “Come with me,” he said, his words heavy with meaning. “Leave him. Leave Levi behind. Without his claim, we can start over—somewhere else. You and me.” Her heart lurched. She pulled away slightly, just enough to look at him. His words hung in the air between them, and a chill ran down her spine. “Wait…” she murmured, her brow furrowing. “What are you saying?”  Dietrich’s gaze was intense. His fingers traced her wrist, his grip gentle—almost soothing. “You deserve this, Y/N. Your family has to manage on their own. You deserve happiness.” His words confused her. Running away didn’t align with any of her worries. If anything, it was the opposite of what she wanted. She’d never be able to see her family again. Her sister would suffer social scrutiny. She’d be forced into hiding somewhere unfamiliar, uprooting her children into a life of shame. She frowned. Unlike Levi, who had claimed that sacrificing for family was noble but should have been her father’s burden, Dietrich was asking her to throw everything away—for him. It was selfish. It was nothing like what she stood for. “What are you talking about?” Her pulse quickened, her mind racing. The weight of it all threatened to suffocate her. She pulled her hand back slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. “I… I can’t,” she stammered, her voice unsteady. “I—I have my sisters. I can’t just leave them.” Suddenly, his warmth didn’t feel soothing anymore. His touch felt repulsive. Sticky. She tried to slip her hand away, attempting to break the contact—to set a boundary. A sharp gasp escaped her as his grip tightened around her arm. “Die?” she whispered, hating how quickly fear crept into her voice. “Come on, Y/N. Come to your senses,” he growled, his tone shifting—hardening. “After everything I’ve done for you… Are you really just going to leave me like this? Who do you think you are?”
 
He’s kind, her own voice echoed in her mind.

Was he kind… or had I just always done what he wanted?
 Like a church’s stained glass, its beauty was lost once shattered—leaving behind only sharp, dangerous pieces. “You’re hurting me,” Y/N whispered, trying to stand. His grip didn’t loosen. “Dietrich. You’re hurting me,” she repeated, louder this time. “I’ve been chasing you since day one. Always offering my help. You came all the way here, and now you want to leave?” he hissed, his hold tightening, his voice low and threatening. “You said you just wanted to talk.” The letters. The visits to her balcony. Knowing her hotel room. Without the rose-colored innocence that had once tinted their past, it all felt alarming. And as people around them turned to watch—parents ushering their children away from the growing argument—her instincts took over. The words came naturally, so naturally they even surprised her. “I’ll tell Levi.” The moment she said it, she realized something. Despite everything—the arguments, the fights, the silent treatments—she wished he were here. At dinner. At this moment. But for Dietrich, the shock was different. She squeaked in surprise as he grabbed her other arm, his hold firm. “Really? You trust him? After all the years we’ve known each other?” “I don’t recognize you,” she murmured. “Hey. Let her go.” The voice was sharp, commanding. Y/N barely had time to process it before Dietrich’s grip loosened. A woman stood a few steps away, arms crossed over her chest. She was tall, her posture unwavering, her gaze locked onto him with unflinching authority. An alpha. Dietrich hesitated, as if weighing his options, but she took a step closer. “I said, let her go,” she repeated, her voice like steel. She was slightly shorter than him, but clearly tall for a woman. Her fierce not backdown eyes and deep exhales through the nose left a clear sign. ‘Back up or we beat each other up, here and now,’ Families nearby were already watching. A few mothers were shielding their children, sensing the tension. If he didn’t let go, this would turn into a real scene. His fingers twitched before he finally released Y/N’s arm. She stumbled back, instinctively cradling the spot where his grip had been. The bruises would bloom later, but right now, she just needed to get away. The woman turned to her. “You okay, sweetie?” Y/N nodded quickly, though her hands trembled. The woman’s sharp gaze flickered back to Dietrich. “Walk away,” she told him flatly. It wasn’t a suggestion. For a moment, he looked like he might argue. Then he scoffed, eyes dark with something unreadable, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the park. Only when he was gone did Y/N finally let out the breath she’d been holding. “Come on,” the woman said, her voice gentler now. “You live close by?” Y/N hesitated. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead—hadn’t thought beyond running. But now that the moment was settling, the weight of what had just happened crashed over her. She felt raw, exposed. And suddenly, the idea of walking back alone, through unfamiliar streets, felt unbearable. So she nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured. “We stick together, right?” the alpha girl said with a bright, reassuring smile—probably because friendships between female alphas and omegas had always been straightforward. — “Hello, I’m —” “Miss!” the rush on the receptionist voice exalted her. “Your husband has been searching for you,” there was no scolding in her tone, just a statement of fact.  “Do you need me to call him?” Y/N shook her head quickly. “No. I—I’ll go up now.” The receptionist studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, dear. If you need anything, let us know.” Y/N barely mumbled a thanks before turning toward the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached her door, pressing her palm against the wood for just a second before slowly pushing it open. Inside, the room was in a flurry of movement. Levi was buttoning up his uniform jacket, his belt only halfway fastened as he moved with sharp, efficient motions. Putting his soldier uniform back on for reasons that she didn’t know. Across from him, Hange was talking rapidly, tying back their hair. Papers were scattered over the small table, and the air was thick with tension. Levi’s head snapped up the second she stepped inside. The moment their eyes met, she saw it—the way his whole body went rigid, like a wire pulled too tight. His expression darkened, but before she could react, he was already moving. She flinched. It was instinctive, her body recoiling before she could stop it. Levi didn’t notice it, or else he would have wondered why she reacted that way. The last thing he expected was for her to think he could ever harm her physically. But he was too focused on bigger tasks. His hands reached for her—one gripping the back of her head. And then, with a force that almost made her knees buckle, he pulled her in and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was tight, almost desperate. His breath was warm against her skin. His grip unwavering. Then, against her forehead, he muttered, “Where the hell have you been?” Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Levi exhaled sharply, relief mixed with frustration. His eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted, and his fingers tightened in her hair. “Where the hell have you been?” he repeated, exhausted. Behind him, Hange slumped into an armchair, throwing their head back with a loud exhale of relief. Pressed against each other, their breaths mingled—inhale, exhale. She had feared the worst, and Levi… Levi buried his nose in her hair, waiting for the familiar warmth of her scent to soothe his racing mind. But—his nostrils twitched. His brow furrowed. His eyes blinked slowly as the realization sank in. 
‘That’s not her smell.’
 His instincts bristled. ‘Neither mine.’ Every one of his alpha alarms went off. Levi pulled back just enough to see her face. His sharp gaze swept over her, scanning her, reading her like a battlefield. Then—his nostrils flared. His expression shifted instantly. His eyes dropped. They landed on her arm. Bruises. Dark imprints of fingers already forming against her skin. Levi’s face darkened. His entire body tensed. His fingers twitched against her shoulder, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low. Too controlled. “Who did that to you?” His tone sent a shiver down her spine. Y/N swallowed hard. “I…” She hesitated as the sharp sting of his anger thickened in the air, suffocating, consuming. Her pulse quickened. “Sorry.” Levi’s jaw ticked. “I didn’t ask if you were sorry. I asked who did it.” His words came through gritted teeth, his glare locked onto her, unwavering, demanding. “I… I didn’t know him like this,” she murmured, her voice faltering. Levi’s scent filled the room, thick and overwhelming, making her wrinkle her nose. A loud pat landed on both their shoulders, abruptly cutting through the tension—like a cat strolling between two hissing rivals. “What MATTERS,” Hange emphasized, shooting a look at the Captain, “is that she’s okay, and we can leave.” They forced a smile at the girl, ruffling her hair before pressing a quick kiss to her head. But the sharp scoff through their nose gave away what they weren’t saying aloud—the scent clinging to her wasn’t the one they expected. “I take it back—you stink less,” they muttered to Levi, hoping to lighten the mood. But the cold, steel-eyed glare of the Ackerman told them his fury was far from over. “Calm down,” Hange murmured under their breath. “You’ll regret it.” But it was a well-known fact—there were three things you simply didn’t mess with when it came to an alpha.
Never imply someone has it bigger than them.
Never suggest a woman in their inner circle is unworthy.
And above all—never mess with their territory.
 Alphas were territorial, jealous creatures. They could even be envious of a damn pillow if their omega clung to it too much in their sleep. Those soft, fragile little things could get away with anything—because they were their soft, fragile little things. And some bastard had dared to rub his stink all over his. Levi’s teeth ground together so hard it hurt.

‘Why don’t you come and piss on my face while you’re at it?’
 He was seeing red. "If I were mad, you’d know," Levi had told her in the early days of their arrangement. On the way back to the Scouts, she had confirmed that. “Lev...” She reached for him once they were back in his chambers—away from the prying eyes of the cadets, all eager to uncover what had happened. “Can we talk?” But he seemed so distant. “I have work to do.” ‘Well... now I know,’ she thought, picking up the cat that had eagerly greeted her. Her body felt drained, as if every last bit of energy had been siphoned from her. “This simply can’t get worse,” she murmured. She tried her best to do a tea and wait. Once again, back at the office. Alone.

—
 The pressure that his fingers applied to the bridge of his nose was so strong that the pain of it overcame the migraine. Strong footsteps echoed in the corridors as cadets moved aside to make way. Since the Scouts were almost wiped out, more and more people had been joining their ranks, and Levi was not enjoying the crowded halls. "The day I decide to call all this shit off, I'd like to see them surviving without me," Levi thought, clenching his teeth. The stress was taking a toll on him lately and with had just happened, it wasn’t helping to work with a clear mind. The military was expanding so much, particularly the Scouts, and they simply lacked soldiers in higher positions to handle everything from mundane tasks like organizing lines to making highly important decisions regarding the Marley issue. Swinging the door of his chambers open, his eyes fell on her. She was looking out of the window, book in hand and cat on lap, dying of boredom as if she were either waiting for rescue or for her death. His grimace was a mix of empathy and annoyance. The sting of betray hasn’t wash out. And the horrendous weekend he was having, having to listen to all of Zeke’s demands from the other side of the damn world, was simply not helping. Slamming the door shut made her turn and look at him. “Levi. I made te—” She was eager to try to fix things up thought she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to fix. There’s not fixing something that didn’t exist. "Pack your stuff, we're moving," he spat out, already moving to his room to gather the few belongings he actually had. He threw the black trousers of his uniform out of the drawers onto the bed to pack them, regretting the decision as soon as he saw his immaculate, perfectly washed trousers covered in cat hair. "Moving? Moving where?" Y/N jumped from her place at the window and followed him, excited. Her eyes shone brightly, feeling her prayers had been answered. Eyes shut as tight as his clenched teeth, he took a deep breath in and out. He was fond of animals, and the white cat was lovely, but the fur was something he wasn’t getting used to easily, and it just added to his day. "Where are we moving?" she insisted, not sensing his lack of patience. "Back to Mitras?" Levi, trying to find any remaining good mood inside him, turned to his side and raised an eyebrow. "No," he said, "To the south." The excitement dropped substantially, and she frowned at him. "We ARE in the south." That made Levi quickly realize this was not going to be a quick and easy conversation. "No, we are in Wall Rose.". Suddenly the whole reason for taking her to the hotel, the weekend off and all the rest that unfolded made a reason. As if he had forgotten why he went to the kitchen in the first place. He thought he would have more time, but the order had been passed down as they travelled back to the scouts facility. Early Monday, it was official. The coastal expansion was on. "I'm not moving to Shiganshina," she said, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together, and her voice raising. Levi sighed as he folded one uniform. "Lucky for you," he said, each word dripping with his remaining patience, "we're not going there." "Then… where?" Levi knew he should have delivered the news more gently, but he had no time to spare and no energy left to deal with her lately. "South, we're setting up a camp next to the coast. Construction has already taken place, so we'll have a room. Pack your stuff; we're leaving by horse to arrive sooner and organize everything. The luggage will be taken by carts that will probably take a week to reach." "What?—NO!" she quickly complained, her voice filled more with tears than anger. "I don't want to go to the end of the shitty world!" "The soldiers from Marley are already arriving, and we need to be there to make sure everything evolves as planned—" "Aren't you listening to me?!" She screamed loudly enough for Levi to close his eyes at how it reverberated in his ears, only fueling his headache. "I'm NOT moving there. We will be in the middle of nowhere; there’s no communication with the walls. I want to be closer to family, not there."She had felt isolated inside the walls. She couldn’t imagine living in a remote camp with no communication or way to travel around. The air began to fill with her scent, demanding she wasn’t submitting. Challenging him, and Levi felt how each breath he took through his nose was tinged with it. He had no good temper left, and her insistence on asserting dominance was the final straw. Her even daring to assert dominance over him. Her, the omega the government had saddled him with. Turning to his right, his piercing eyes locked onto her. "Don’t," Levi ordered, his own pheromones mixing with hers and warning her. The stare of a high-breed alpha, his own body warning her that fighting with him was a bad idea. Maybe it was because he had been hearing demands from Marley soldiers and allies all day long, people challenging his authority. But Levi wasn’t going to allow an omega to step on his dominance. He had been, in his opinion, more than good and patient with her—probably more than any other alpha would have been. He wasn’t one to use his stare to force omegas to do what he wanted, but he was having none of it. Lips trembling, fists clenching, deep frown, and her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Fighting against her own biology, she could feel how each fiber of her body trembled in trying to maintain the resistance. Eventually, she couldn’t keep it up and looked to the side, breaking the stare and lowering her head in submission. A long sigh left his nose as his demand withdrew once she ceased the claim. “Pack your stuff,” he ordered, lowering his voice sensing that the rebellion was over. But it hardly was. “I’m not going. I’ll move in with my parents. I’m not going to some rotten, muddy camp in the middle of nowhere.” Levi shook his head. “You’re coming because that’s the arrangement between your parents and the military board. So pack, and that's the end of the deal.” “No! I don’t want to go, I’m not going to pack!” “NO!” Her complaints echoed in his head as the headache pounded against his skull, his teeth clenching so hard he was even showing them. “ENOUGH!” His hand slammed against the drawer, the loudness of it ceasing all noise. The room fell silent, and the scared cat ran to hide under the bed. Levi finally turned to fully face her. “We are going to do this whether you like it or not,” his voice harsh and leaving no room for interruptions. “It can be the easy way or the hard way.” Raising his hand in the air, showing three fingers. “I have a meeting, and in three hours I’ll come back and pick you up. Either you pack and get ready for when I return, or you don’t pack and not only will you be in a shitty, muddy camp at the end of the world stuck with me, but you’ll do it without any of your fancy stuff. And I warn you, there are no stores there.” As he left the room with the same urgency he came in, he said, “You choose!” But as the door was slamming shut, a cadet interrupted him. “Ehm… Captain?” The tremble in the kid’s voice indicated he sensed the environment was not conducive to another demand. “Commander Hange needs a signature?” “Fuck off!"