as the dust flies, watch it burn

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/63888901.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Star Wars: The Acolyte (TV)
Relationships: Osha Aniseya/Qimir | The Stranger, Mae Aniseya/Sol the Jedi
Characters: Kelnacca the Jedi (Star Wars), Yord Fandar, Jecki Lon, Vernestra Rwoh
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, it's a [literal] sister ships a/b/o double
feature, Omega Osha, Alpha Qimir, Omega Mae, Alpha Sol, Minor
Character Death, canon character death, what probably constitutes abuse
or at least mishandling of a wookiee corpse, (sorry master kelnacca),
Enemies to Lovers, even tho my instinct is to do a speedrun to the lovers
part, qimir and osha each having independent thoughts about wanting to
murder mae, rest assured tho mae will come to no harm .. quite the
opposite actually >:3, girlie's first a/b/o, (this particular setting
inspiring a lot of firsts for me tbqh), The Porn Is the Plot, Scenting,
Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, a/b/o typical dubious
consent, POV Multiple, the whore of khofar has returned to grace y'all
with some more hornie forest shenanigans lol, also cut a girl for whom

😭
strong fragrances make my head hurted some slack for these scent
descriptions , maybe the teensiest tsp of yord slander (in that mae
compares his beta strength to alpha sol's), Other Additional Tags to Be
Added
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-03-16 Words: 6,013 Chapters: 1/4
 as the dust flies, watch it burn
by struck_by_lightning

Summary

Unknowingly separated from the Jedi on Khofar, something in the air guides Osha to
Kelnacca's home before the others. Only for her to witness the Wookiee's death at the hands
of a terrifying alpha darksider, whose very presence triggers the omega in her that Osha
believed long dormant.

Meanwhile, on the outside, Mae contends with being fortune's fool, as she comes face to face
again with the potential future mate she never wanted or imagined. Osha's safety is perhaps
the only thing she and the alpha Jedi who killed her mother can agree on.

Notes

favorite hornie/murder relaxing forest retreat. 😙

*finger guns* Heeeeeyyy guys. Guess who's back with yet another fic inspired by my
Suppose I should make it known I have at

one, so if it seems like I'm obsessed with this damn planet, congrats, you're correct, I am. 😅
least two other slutty Khofar fic ideas on the backburner I hope to tackle after I finish this

(Would like to make it at least on the same level of hornie as Takodana but I'll try not to get
ahead of myself hehe.)

The thought really came from me going, ooh what if Osha had caught masked Mr. Stranger in
the act of murdering the poor sad Wookiee Jedi. The a/b/o element came along when
considering how she would actually get there first and the rest kinda spiraled from there.

🤞
Currently projecting this to be the first of three chapters plus an epilogue, though we'll see
how long it gets.

Also technically the first solmae fic I'm posting, really hope I do them justice. 💛💜
Don't ask me about what the passage of time on Khofar is supposed to look like cuz I kinda
have no idea how long in ep 5 Qimir was supposed to be out there fighting & murdering a
bunch of Jedi in real time .. like he starts on them not long after sunset and Osha sets the

👉👈
umbramoths on him shortly before sunrise. Therefore I shall play with it as it suits me in this
fic, hope nobody minds.

Also really trying my best with the scent descriptions like if I were in an a/b/o universe I'd
probably at best get mildly worked up about food-adjacent smells on others lololol
See the end of the work for more notes
Try as she might, Osha remains unsettled after seeing the death of the umbramoth, Sol’s saber
cleaving the creature in two. Despite Jecki’s good-natured attempt at reassurance, she can’t
help but have a sense of dread toward how this mission seems to be proceeding.

Long hours spent traversing the deep, sprawling forests of Khofar, ending in an inevitable
confrontation with her bloodthirsty sister.

She has no idea what she might say to Mae, after everything. What can she say to the sibling
who’d have rather seen her dead in a gruesome fire for wanting to follow and forge her own
path in life?

She told Yord to take up incapacitating Mae should she not be receptive to Osha’s pleas to
stop the killing and turn herself in. But in all honesty, Osha fears that perhaps revenge might
overtake her just as wholly as it has her sister.

Only Mae would find herself the subject upon whom vengeance would be wrought.

It feels wrong and sickening to even contemplate such an inclination towards violence,
towards darkness that she’s tried and failed to contain and subdue within herself.

It agitates her, gives rise to a heat that peaks steadily in her blood, the longer she has to
contemplate facing Mae again. Something dark and long-starved inside her that demands
retribution for all the ways in life she’s been wronged.

As much as she once dreamed of a miraculous reunion with her long lost twin, she also quite
often envisioned what it might be like to simply crush her sister’s windpipe with just the
force. Sever the phantom limb of grief and resentment that weighed her down despite her
efforts to move on.

That’s why it simply can’t be Osha who tries to persuade Mae to give up her murderous
vendetta against the Jedi. Nothing good can come of it, as much as she wishes it were
otherwise.

The daylight is beginning to crest into twilight as Osha finds herself suddenly stood in front
of what was once a crashed ship. It’s clearly been converted into a ramshackle dwelling,
inhabited by the evasive Wookiee Jedi master.

She turns, expecting Sol and all the rest of his team to be right behind her, only to be met
with stark, eerie silence.

Osha is filled with panic and confusion. Where is everyone else? How the hell has she made
it here first completely on her own?

Did she really get so caught up in her own disturbing thoughts to have mistakenly split off
and wandered away from the group?

It doesn’t even make sense, though. What could have brought her here, then, to the exact
place she’s supposed to be whereas the others are likely still being led astray by the dubious
reliability of their Tynnan tracker?

Her connection to the force has been strengthening again, gradually. From the moment she
stepped foot on this planet she’s been reaching for something oddly enticing on the wind, just
ever so slightly out of reach.

She was trying not to be too obvious about it amongst all the legitimate Jedi accompanying
her, lest she get a scolding (most likely by Yord) for indulging in powers she no longer has a
right to.

But her connection to the force is innate, it only feels natural she allow herself to be
reacquainted with it. Surely it can’t be so wrong if it’s returning to her on an important
mission such as this.

Osha exhales, exhausted to the bone. It’s been one thing after another since the moment Yord
showed up to arrest her for a crime she didn’t commit.

It presently seems rather dubious whether Sol and the other Jedi will arrive to the correct
location anytime soon. Master Kelnacca, on the other hand, has resided in these forests for
years now, and probably has a thorough knowledge of how to reunite with them most
expediently.

Osha steels herself and tries to anticipate some positivity towards meeting again with the
Wookiee master she hasn’t seen in so long. If anything it’ll be nice to see a familiar face
rather than linger nervously outside.

As she approaches the front entrance of Kelnacca’s forest dwelling, something snaps into
place, whatever her sharpening senses have been attuned to on this wild, fathomless planet.

Whatever it is she’s been seeking on Khofar, it’s inside there.

Osha feels the slightest bit relieved that she’ll at least have the guidance of a Jedi master to
help her understand what’s going on with her.

The entrance door slides to the side the moment she’s in close proximity to it, so she lets
herself in.

The first thing she notes about the inside of Kelnacca’s home is how significantly warmer it
is compared to outside. Though, truth be told, Osha hadn’t really registered the chill of the
waning temperatures as she wandered the forest.

She chalked it up to the exertion of walking nonstop all day. Or maybe the thermal
capabilities of these stupid civilian garments are better than she would’ve initially credited
them.

She pulls off the rucksack she’s been carrying on her shoulders, rolling them a little to release
some tension.

She turns to walk further into the makeshift forest abode, only for complete silence to be
disrupted by the sudden buzz of a saber turning on.
Her blood goes cold, before any of the warmth indoors has a chance to seep into her skin, her
bag slipping from her hands to the floor.

Osha can’t believe her eyes when before her, the Wookiee Jedi master of imposing stature is
sat to receive the fatal slash of a blood red saber to the chest. The throaty sound of pain
Kelnacca makes is strangely subdued, right as a second slash carves further into his chest,
likely to bypass the thick, plentiful fur that covers it.

She’s not sure if the cry of despair and denial that comes out of her is out loud or just inside
her head. Regardless, it makes enough of an impact to draw the last moments of Master
Kelnacca’s attention.

The Wookiee’s eyes are glassy, as if there are unshed tears from simply looking at Osha.
Kelnacca dies silently, his pent up grief going forever unspoken as she watches him slump
forward to the floor of his own home.

Osha is overwhelmed, not understanding what that look meant, distraught and fearful to see
so great a Jedi master felled before her own eyes.

And his killer ..

She tries to reach for her blaster but her shaking fingers can’t grip the handle before the force
snatches it from her belt and tosses it into some dark corner.

Osha freezes, finally taking in the absolute wraith of a creature, shrouded in dark fabric and
having donned some sort of helmet to mask their face.

They make a deliberate show of holding out their saber to the side as they switch it off,
regarding her, silently.

They tilt their head, as if in fascination.

“We meet again,” a filtered, deep drone issues from the mask’s vocoder, “Omega.”

Again? What the hell are they talking about? She would without a doubt remember crossing
paths with an inhuman creature like this if she’d ever met them prior.

She should run. She should flee. Because the terrifying darksider who’s just murdered Master
Kelnacca instead of Mae—

Oh. This is her master then.

—can somehow scent Osha’s long-repressed, practically dead omega nature, his keen senses
no doubt owing to the fact that he’s an undeniably strong, powerful, dangerous alpha.

A dangerous alpha, with the force. And a deadly red saber.

And something about her own dampened senses seems to have clocked on to the fact that this
alpha is male. Something that’s perhaps obvious but somehow less noticeable in the wake of
his callous, machine-like precision in carrying out a murder.
Despite the tears welling up in her eyes, Osha is incensed. Master Kelnacca, who she and the
Jedi had walked and walked all the way through a damn near endless forest in order to save
from Mae’s vengeance, dead anyways before Mae could even get to him.

She gathers together her rage so that it might resemble something like courage.

“I’ve never seen you before in my life!” she hisses, seething with the unfairness of it all.

Something that might be the brief huff of a laugh filters through the part of the helm crafted
to resemble an eerie, mocking grin. It only serves to provoke her.

“You’re him, then, aren’t you? Mae’s master. The one that made her into a murderer!”

This garners what is most likely a scoff.

“You think anyone can make your sister do anything she doesn’t already want herself?” he
taunts. “I didn’t corrupt her, not in the way you think. I only tried equipping her with the
skills necessary to make her desires reality.”

“Then why do the job for her?” Osha challenges. “What was the point teaching her all of that
if you were just going to kill him yourself?”

He snorts. “Why, indeed.”

The masked darksider takes a step toward her and Osha takes an immediate step backward.
He pauses, only to do it again. Osha retreats in tandem to the alpha stranger’s advance.

Something potent, like a zap of electricity, hangs in the air between them. A flurry of
contradictory feelings that she can’t quite parse rush through her mind.

Alpha .. killer .. danger .. powerful .. let him chase!

Osha is petrified as soon as the words form in her mind. Where the hell did that last one come
from? Like hell she’ll do anything that’ll get her impaled on this murderer’s saber any more
quickly. Provoking him to pursue her in a race she’s guaranteed to lose is a surefire shortcut
to her death.

A pronounced crackle that might be a sigh emanates through his mask.

“As you’re probably well aware, your sister is often rather .. impulsive . Rather easily
changeable in her moods if things don’t go exactly the way she envisions them.”

Taken out of her strange, hazy contemplations by his words, Osha is almost inclined to roll
her eyes. That certainly was Mae to a T when they were children. Amazing what didn’t
change at all in the span of an entire sixteen years.

It was how she brought about the extinction of their entire coven, after all.

“I have you to thank for this most recent change of heart in Mae,” he drones on. “Decided
she’d rather turn herself in to the Jedi now that she knows you’re alive .. not accounting for
the fact she’ll likely never see you again if she does.”

Osha can’t say she’s surprised by Mae’s fickleness. It still doesn’t quite answer her question.

“What does that have to do with you killing him?”

The alpha stranger glances back at the massive corpse of Master Kelnacca, as if he’d
forgotten for a moment the dead Wookiee was even there.

“This, in truth,” he admits, “was me blowing off steam. I don’t take kindly to being
betrayed.”

She flinches at his blatant honesty. Not a smidge of regard for the life he so easily took. Just
collateral damage, born of pettiness.

Osha gulps. She needs to keep him talking, while she desperately tries to concoct some way
to escape and warn the incoming Jedi before they get here.

“So what’s the plan now? The Jedi happen upon Master Kelnacca’s body and assume it was
Mae? They’ll still take her in, and she’ll give them all the information she has on you.”

She’s positive this time he actually snorts.

“None of it will matter once they’re all dead.”

Something about the chill his callousness earlier struck in her has thawed and Osha ..
something in her is shifting.

Her stupid omega whose voice she’d managed to shut out for over a decade.

Fierce .. ruthless .. Alpha ..

Why is she so enticed by the prospect of this violent, unfeeling alpha confidently, calmly
declaring his murderous intent?

All of this is wrong, and Osha feels ill. Not in a way she usually does. An all-encompassing
feverishness is gradually creeping in.

Looking directly at him is dizzying. She clamps her eyelids shut tight. She takes a shuddering
breath that does little if not nothing to calm her racing heart.

A pain like she’s being cleaved in half by his saber shoots out, deep in her belly. Osha cries
out at the sudden, unexpected agony.

Her eyes open, expecting to see the ominous red glow burrowing into her. Alpha’s saber is
nowhere near her though, which puzzles her. What else would feel like she’s about to die,
being torn apart from the inside?

Osha starts when she sees that the darksider has vanished from where he once stood before
her.
Before she can start to fret that she hallucinated him completely, a hand gingerly comes
around her waist, pressing low at the front of her abdomen.

Osha shrieks, more at the concurrent stab of pain that rips through her right before his bare
palm even meets her clothed midsection than how he’s gotten so close so quickly.

“You poor thing,” he tuts, and it sounds entirely insincere through the filter of his mask. “You
have no idea at all, do you?”

Tears spill forth as she closes her eyes again, as if somehow that will lessen the impact of the
cramping that has taken possession of her body.

Osha sobs before she can get another word in.

“N-no idea .. of what ?” she manages between grit teeth. The alpha stranger just pulls her in
closer, as if the embrace of a killer will impart any relief toward her suffering.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he sighs, and Osha highly doubts that. “But I have to be
the one to tell you, precious. You’re going into heat.”

Osha feels suddenly more faint and dizzier, if that’s even possible.

That’s not right. She can’t be going into heat. She never has.

Not since the first and only time.

Waking up in bed one morning at the age of thirteen, a horrific crucible of pain broiling right
below her belly button. Unfamiliar dampness spilling from between her legs that made her
believe momentarily she had wet herself.

Unable to move, thinking she was going to die, while her fellow padawan roommate exited
their room into the corridor to frantically shout and call for help.

Isolated and quarantined for an entire 72 hours before it was deemed safe to finally
administer the emergency heat suppressant, then the implant that would prevent her from
being triggered spontaneously by any of her alpha peers (or trigger any of them in turn).

A deep, yawning chasm of loneliness that not even Master Sol had been allowed to breach
due to his own alpha status. An extra precaution given his legendary lack of susceptibility to
the omega Jedi of all levels he was regularly surrounded by.

It was common for demi padawans who’d just presented to experience a much more muted
heat or rut cycle following them being given the implant, occurring within anywhere from
four to six months usually.

Not Osha, though. Her omega nature seemed to cease to exist after that. Her peers would
frequently forget she wasn’t a beta.

Other omega padawans who’d presented would grumble about how lucky she was that she
didn’t need to put up with a heat at all. Though for all of them their cycles had rescinded to
being more akin to a mild flu that also required the routine use of slick pads.

To Osha, though, it had just stood out as one more way in which she didn’t belong. Her
physiology couldn’t even work the same way as everyone else’s.

She’d put the thought of heats out of her mind in the long years since. She’d certainly never
entertained any thoughts of knotting or biting or mating.

(Except perhaps on the occasional especially lonely night bundled up in her bunk as a
meknek. She would very briefly entertain the thought of being so ardently desired and
claimed, for the handful of minutes it took her to get off quickly and quietly on her own
fingers.)

And she certainly sure as hell had never contemplated being taken into the arms of a
murderous alpha who just got done slaying one of the Jedi masters she grew up revering.

A murderous alpha who, it’s now dawning on her, seems prepared to be taking care of her for
this impending heat.

She squirms in agony as the pain in her midsection continues to claw aggressively at her
insides.

This can’t happen. Not here, not now. Not with this stranger.

He has her pulled flush against him, and Osha thinks for a moment she feels the vibrating
thrum of his pulse.

One hand still at her waist, the other touches her throat. She flinches when his fingers lightly
graze her mating gland. Like he’s examining her, checking that she is indeed unclaimed by
anyone else.

His caresses seem purposeful, deliberate. Osha finds it soothing, actually, a wash of cooling
calm descending on her frantic mind.

Her body still cramps sharply. But his closeness seems to dull the blade of her agony,
rendering it almost manageable.

A steady, metallic rattle sounds behind her head. Alpha breathing in and out deeply,
translated through the filter of his mask.

Having seemed a lot more assured and calm than she is about this, she’s a bit surprised. Can
he really be so affected by her even through the barrier of the helm?

Maybe it’s just how any alpha in their prime would react to an omega rapidly descending into
her estrus.

Though, as frightened as she is by the prospect of being tended to by this murderous

darksider, strangely, the idea of any other alpha in his place seems infinitely more off-
putting.
Her inner omega hisses at even the mere thought.

When she’s pulled so close to him that they literally can’t get any closer, he instead starts to
curl his larger form around hers, his head on her shoulder.

Osha’s heart flutters and races, though all he does is continue to stand there, holding her.

“I’m afraid,” he pauses, “I may in part be the cause of this.”

He might be saying it apologetically. Hard to tell any variation in his tone through the damn
helmet.

“How?”

He sighs again.

“I believe the moment we met, face to face, this became inevitable, Omega.”

Tensing her body as another muted cramp rolls through her abdomen, Osha would scoff if she
had the energy to spare.

“I don’t know you,” she sniffles through tears.

“Not yet,” he says evenly.

She wants to tell him she doesn’t want to.

Wants to. But can’t. Because more and more, with each passing second she’s here, with him,
held in his arms ..

It’s a complete and total lie.

Just when Osha thinks the cramping has stabilized to a manageable degree again, a
particularly vicious wave of pain splits her insides, this time accompanied by a rush of fluid
from her core.

She whines softly, feeling entirely pathetic as it drips down her legs, soaking her leggings
under the less permeable fabric of the civilian trousers.

The horrific ache persists, however, and Osha feels her knees about to give out under her.
Only Alpha’s strong grip around her waist keeps her upright.

As for the man himself, she can hear the quietest hint of what might be a swear filtering
through his mask.

Probably not-so-unexpectedly, he scoops her up into his arms, as if she weighs nothing. Osha
feels limp as a ragdoll, her head falling onto his shoulder as he draws her close in this
position.
“Osha,” he murmurs, and this close, she can almost make out the whisper of what must be his
real voice beneath the mask. A warmth blooms in her to hear him say her name, that he even
knows it at all.

“That’s enough. I’m not letting you suffer any longer, precious.”

There’s something different about the way it sounds when he speaks this time. It doesn’t
seem translated through the tinny reverb of the modulator, as if he’s divested himself of the
mask, finally.

But he has his arms full of her, so how could he have removed it just now?

He hasn’t. Osha can feel the metallic edge of his helmet where her scalp lightly bumps into it
as he promptly turns while carrying her.

She has little time to register the confusing contradiction as she suddenly bears witness to
Master Kelnacca’s body being aggressively thrown out the front door of his own home.

Murderous Alpha uses nothing but the force to carelessly slam the sliding door behind the
corpse he’s the cause of. She hears the crunch of what must be him damaging the sensor that
automatically activates when someone approaches to be let in.

She doesn’t bother asking the reason why he’s done such a downright callous thing. She
knows why.

It’s a warning, to anyone who dares try enter a space where a deadly alpha lies in wait, with
an omega to protect.

It’s completely backwards. He’s the one she should need protecting from, shouldn’t she?

Doubt very quickly sets in for Osha, though. Alpha is being nothing but gentle and caring to
her, whatever threat of danger and violence he poses to anyone else.

It isn’t actually that strange, given the circumstances. He’s behaving the way nature dictates.

The emotion that reigns supreme in Osha’s mind is curiosity, rather than dread, at what this
strange, unpredictable alpha will do next, ostensibly in service of her.

She isn’t afraid, she realizes, as he carries her deeper into the dwelling, seeking somewhere
safer and warm where she can nest.

Not of him, at least.

The sight of the massive furry corpse of what once was the Wookiee Jedi lying, limbs askew,
on his own doorstep instantly makes Mae’s blood go cold.

She takes it for what it is. A warning.

“He’s here .. ”

He may still be inside the repurposed spaceship dwelling, in fact. Why else would the
deceased Jedi’s body be placed so deliberately before the entrance?

Mae has no time to wonder what her master is even still doing in there. Not when the much
more pressing matter of her life hangs in the balance.

She’s as sure as dead now. The master will not be merciful. Especially if Qimir’s ratted her
out to him like he did with the Jedi.

If the master even let Qimir live. A sliver of guilt comes and goes for leaving him hung from
a tree, subject to the master’s wrath that she fears so much.

That’s neither here nor there though. She needs to get away before the creature she’s betrayed
successfully hunts her down.

Mae turns the opposite direction, rushing as far away from the Wookiee’s home as she can
get. The master’s tracking skills both in the force and as an alpha are nothing short of deadly
accurate.

The smell of something deep, earthy, emanates from the dense grouping of trees she runs
towards. Though the chances of her salvation being somewhere in there are likely slim to
none, she still follows it.

It’s oddly familiar and despite her distress, somewhat soothing. Like the waft of one of those
steaming hot teas Qimir gets hyped about occasionally.

She won’t complain, her determination to survive the master’s wrath rejuvenated by the
mysterious forest scent. Mae will escape him or die trying.

She chances a look behind her once she feels that she’s put a decent enough distance between
herself and the entrance of the Wookiee’s dwelling. Part of her expects to see the looming
figure of the master standing there, but sees no one, save for the sprawled out dead Wookiee.

Mae shouldn’t slow down, knowing her master’s ability to transport himself instantly from
one nearby location to another. Just because she has a head start on fleeing him doesn’t mean
he can’t quickly catch up.

She’s not really paying much attention to her immediate surroundings, however, her fear
clouding her senses more than she should let it.

Turning back forward to her path is when Mae comes into collision with another body, one
that stumbles backwards, yet maintains its footing as her hands go up against the person’s
chest. Their hands come to a firm grip at her upper arms.

Momentarily dazed by the realization that this seems to be the source of the curious forest
scent that guided her away from imminent doom, Mae looks up.

And her heart turns to stone and sinks into the depths of her stomach.
It must be some cruel, ridiculous trickery of the force or the thread or whatever one might be
inclined to call it.

The fucking Jedi who killed her mother. His fucking alpha pheromones that are rushing
through her senses like an unexpected storm.

If they were energizing from afar, then they’re positively electrifying up close.

She hadn’t been able to tell during their duel on Olega, the mask she used to shroud her
identity filtering the majority of it out. That, combined with how she tried to keep as much of
a distance as possible in a fight.

All for naught, given how inescapable he is now.

Worse, something in Mae, an insidious whisper emerging from the back of her consciousness,
feels compelled to yield. To him, of all people.

Absolutely the fuck not.

“Mae?” he murmurs breathlessly and instantly she’s in denial of how it thrills her to the very
nerve endings.

Mae pants from the exertion of running, stunned by whatever this burgeoning chemistry is
between them.

“Sol!” a voice calls out behind him. “You’ve .. apprehended the criminal?”

The interruption brings Mae back down to earth. The reality of what they are to each other.

Killers, the both of them. A perfect match, perhaps, in all the worst ways.

Except he gets to remain a revered figure of authority in the corrupt organization he gives his
allegiance. Whilst she is persecuted, a maligned fugitive, by the same.

Mae stiffens and tries to extract herself from the Jedi’s hold, but his grip is stronger than she
expected. He holds on tight, still in something of a daze.

Is she making him feel the same way, then? There might be something almost possessive
about how his fingers dig painfully into her arms.

The voice inside her that’s purely motivated by biology is pleased. The more cognizant,
conscious one in the forefront of her mind resents this as just another thing this man has done
to disrupt and derail her life.

It was mere minutes before that Mae was certain in her decision to turn herself in to the Jedi,
finally be reunited with her sister. It seemed much more feasible when it was the Wookiee
Jedi she thought she’d be surrendering to.

Now, though, trapped in the arms of her mother’s killer, she finds herself rapidly rethinking
that plan.
Because this particular Jedi needs Osha to continue believing whatever lies he’s had to tell
her pertaining to his slaying of their mother. Meaning it’s in his best interests to keep them
apart, never let them see each other again, let alone speak to one another.

Since that plan’s now gone up in flames, Mae’s objective has to shift. Self-preservation
comes first, if she wants any hope of actually being able to speak freely with her sister ever
again.

The rest of the Jedi on this mission (who have failed at saving their colleague, with Mae not
even having to lift a finger) trickle in behind him, her sworn enemy by all accounts.

Shit. She can’t pull the same move as on Olega, using the dirt as a smokescreen in order to
escape their view, not with all these trees in the way.

She’s outnumbered, eight Jedi to one her. She doesn’t have the element of surprise this time
either.

Squirming against his hold, Mae tries to wrench herself away, out of his cruel hands. This
only leads him to tighten his grip again, and Mae literally snarls at him to show what she
thinks of that, Alpha be damned.

“Let me go,” she spits at him.

That seems to finally snap him out of his daze. She observes the flare of his nostrils as he
exhales roughly. Trying to get her out of his system, maybe. It’ll do fuck all if he insists on
keeping her as close as he is.

He seems to realize the same thing though, and finally breaks his gaze away from Mae to
address the other members of his team.

“Yes,” the Jedi manages a steady, if clipped, tone, “Detain the prisoner.”

“No!” she grits out at him.

“I have to,” he says, lowly, as if he means it solely for her to hear. He looks at her again, and
that trademark look of tormented conflict etches the subtle lines of his face.

There’s something he’s trying to implore of her, without words.

While two of his fellow Jedi extricate Mae from his grip to cuff her hands behind her, one of
them pretentiously reading her her rights under command of the Galactic Republic and Jedi
Order, Mae suddenly understands.

He feels it, the tendrils of their baser natures curling and reaching for one another like plumes
of smoke. And like the good little Jedi he is, he’s denying it. Foisting her off on others, a pair
of betas who are none the wiser that their noble Jedi Master is presently afflicted with
dreaded desire .

Not just straightforward lust. But longing for that sort of indelible connection that can only be
found and forged between mates .
Mae repays his look of regretful yet hopeless yearning with a glare so venomous it could kill
a small animal.

Because how dare he, not only trigger that same desire in her, then also have the nerve to
reject her?

She and her pesky inner omega are momentarily united in disdain toward the alpha Jedi.

Her heart actually fucking aches .

Mae blinks hard, refusing to shed tears in front of this man who’s found yet another way to
ruin her.

Some of the other Jedi have moved past her and have caught sight of their deceased Wookiee
compatriot.

“We’re too late!” one of them exclaims. “She’s already killed him.”

They all turn to look at Mae with undoubted accusation.

She may be a killer, but she sure as hell isn’t going down for a crime she didn’t commit.

“Wasn’t me this time, actually,” she says, trying to maintain a mildly disgruntled air despite
her capture.

“You really expect anyone to believe that?” the pretentious one who took part in restraining
her scoffs.

Mae flares her own nostrils, not doing a damn thing to lessen the intensity of the alpha Jedi’s
infuriatingly calming scent. The amount of sedation it’s casting on her senses is humiliating
to admit.

She narrows her eyes and turns to the Jedi. He’s one of the two that were on Olega, with him
.

“I’ll admit gladly to murders I did commit, and I’m telling you this wasn’t one of them,” she
fixes him with a doleful stare.

“A likely story,” he hedges, though a tad sheepish.

Of course Alpha has to cut in to give his input.

“No, Yord,” he asserts, testing how close he can tolerate getting as he inches warily back into
Mae’s vicinity.

He addresses Mae directly, looking at her with somehow more seriousness than his usual
solemn demeanor.

“You came running. I saw it in your eyes. Fear.”

He’s capable of sensing Mae with a whole lot more than his eyes, but whatever. They’ll be
more inclined to listen to her if his authority backs up her claims.

“Your master. He’s the one that’s done this. That’s the reason you tried to flee.”

Mae wants to roll her eyes but he’s exactly right. Letting him slip into her mind during their
duel was a mistake.

“So we’re expected to believe he’s still in there? What is he doing that he needs to be inside
Kelnacca’s house?” Yord, apparently, raises a good point.

“I have no idea, and I’m not interested in finding out,” Mae shrugs, with more nonchalance
than she actually feels.

Being in the Jedi’s custody was supposed to make her feel safer from the master’s wrath.
That was before knowing he’s likely been following her this entire time and his physical
proximity promises a speedier attempt at vengeance.

“Why would you flee him now though? You were determined to shield him before.”

No use hiding anything from Alpha , it seems.

“I changed my mind. Decided to turn myself in, to Master Kelnacca, instead of killing him.”

Mae leans in forward, as much as she can with Yord’s (not nearly as strong as Alpha’s ) grip
on her restrained arm holding her back.

“I betrayed him. There, happy?”

Just because she can, Mae takes the moment to size up Alpha head to toe. Her purposeful
gaze navigates all of him that’s visible.

Every inch of skin below the neck is covered, even his hands clad in fitted leather gloves.

Mae can certainly relate, the instinct to cover any and all potential vulnerabilities is one that’s
been honed over a life of survival by the skin of her teeth.

Still, the sudden urge to see what lays underneath his many layers hits her swiftly, deep in her
belly. To strip him of all of it and lay him bare for her eyes alone.

Fuck. She can’t be thinking about this. Not ever, but especially not now.

A twitch of his lips might indicate he’s catching on to her feelings via the shift of her scent.

And Mae suddenly realizes she’s never cared before what she must smell like to someone.

“Then what compelled you to betray him?” Something about the look in his eyes makes it
seem like Mae’s answer might be the most important thing in the galaxy.

She’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting, so she can only give him the truth.
“Isn’t it obvious? You of all people should know,” she lightly taunts. Keep him on his toes for
just a moment longer.

She stares at him with as much of a doe-eyed look as she’s capable of. But the impulse to tear
up as she says it to the man who took everything from her proves unavoidable.

“I wanted to see Osha. I wanted to actually speak to my sister again.”

His look on her softens, though they both know why that’s exactly something he seeks to
prevent.

But can he deny her as Alpha ? Will his instinct be enough to go against his guilt, in giving
her what she so desperately wants?

Deserves.

Mae flexes her fingers behind her in anticipation for what he’ll answer.

It never comes, though, once the blonde padawan voices something that chills both Mae and
Alpha to the core.

“Master Sol .. where is Osha?”

Mae’s brow furrows, because why has he brought her here? Doesn’t that run counter to
whatever he’s doing to keep Osha in the dark?

There’s no time to wonder because Alpha finally breaks his gaze from hers to look with
growing terror towards Kelnacca’s home again.

It takes her a moment to understand what has him so frightened until she follows his line of
sight.

“No. No!” Mae wants to deny it so much.

Because in the flurry of their own pheromones it seems she and Alpha missed the scent of
something else brewing on the wind.

Two something elses that Mae recognizes unerringly, that she never dreamed could be
situated as close together as they are now.

They’ve figured out what the hell her former master is doing, it seems.

The tears she’s been trying so hard to repress come spilling out, blurring her vision when she
meets his eyes again, to the most horrified, stricken expression she’s seen on him.

It almost rivals the way he looked when he killed her mother.

“Osha is in there,” he says gravely.

Surely, all hell is about to break loose.

End Notes

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