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Stiles lounged languidly against the pile of cushions that adorned the chaise in his private chambers. His gaze lazily drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the palace gardens stretched out in a sea of green.  

The King actually thought he could satisfy him. Stiles nearly laughed at the absurdity.  

It was pathetic, really.  

No, it was insulting.  

His lips curled into a bitter smirk. No, the King was not capable of giving him what he wanted, what he craved. 

There was, however, one person in the palace could. 

Stiles’ thoughts drifted as they so often did to Derek. General Hale was unlike anyone Stiles had ever met. He was the embodiment of discipline, yet beneath that exterior of control was something wild, a simmering intensity that seemed to burn in his eyes.  

He couldn’t decide whether to bask in its heat or risk being scorched. 

King Theo, the second-born son of King Peter and the late Queen Corinne, was never supposed to be king. No, that title had belonged to his elder brother, Crown Prince Henry. He had been the kingdom’s perfect Alpha heir.  

But the promise of Henry’s reign was lost in the war. He perished on the battlefield in a bloody conflict against the neighboring kingdom Cindralis. The loss left the kingdom shattered. Mourning quickly turned into a collective unease as questions arose about who would inherit the throne.  

The Hales had ruled for decades, ever since King Xavier first laid claim to the land. He and his followers fled their homeland after being driven out by the Argents who saw their shapeshifting abilities as unnatural, even dangerous. According to legend, when Xavier first arrived at what would later become Beacon Hills, his eyes burned red. From that moment, the Hales built a dynasty. And while most of their supernatural abilities had faded over time, their strict hierarchy had not.  

Every king since Xavier had been an Alpha, a direct descendent of the founder. The Alpha gene was dominant, ensuring that each new ruler was as powerful as the last.  

Until now.  

Theo’s status as a Beta had sparked quiet rumors that refused to go away. Some whispered that Queen Corrine had betrayed King Peter, that Theo was the result of an affair with a Beta lover. Others believed it was a punishment from the gods, that when Queen Corrine died giving birth to Theo, she had taken his power with her.  

Whispers of doubt quickly spread through the palace halls and noble courts after Theo’s ascension. Many royal council members openly questioned Theo’s fitness to rule, fearing what it would signify for the kingdom to have a Beta king on the throne.  

Behind closed doors, the council debated the possibility of bypassing Theo entirely.  

Their preferred candidate was Derek Hale, Theo’s cousin. An Alpha who carried himself with a quiet authority that demanded respect, and his battlefield prowess was legendary.  

But tradition was unyielding. The crown followed the direct male line, and no matter how practical it might have seemed to place someone like Derek on the throne, the monarchy refused to deviate from its rigid rules. The crown passed to Theo, the younger, untested brother who had spent his life in the shadow of an Alpha sibling.  

The adherence to tradition was not without precedent or controversy. Decades earlier, Derek’s mother, Talia, had been the eldest child of King Edric and by all accounts, she had been wise, and deeply beloved by the people. Yet, her younger brother Peter had been crowned instead. 

The decision had stayed a source of contention, particularly among the kingdom’s progressives, who viewed it as a missed opportunity for stronger, more just leadership. The controversy was only amplified by the ongoing war with the Argents, rulers of Cindarlis, a conflict ignited by King Peter himself.  

For his part, Derek had remained characteristically quiet throughout the ordeal. He accepted the council’s decision and took his place as General of the King’s Guard without complaint, pledging his sword and loyalty to Theo. If he arbored any resentment over being overlooked, he never showed it.  

Whether his loyalty to Theo was born out of duty, affection, or strategy was anyone’s guess.  

The Beta King might hold the title, but the Alpha in the shadows commanded a power that could not be ignored.  

One week before the wedding 

Tonight’s gathering was yet another in a series of extravagant parties thrown to display the future king’s soon-to-be Omega.  

Stiles stood near the edge of the floor, his eyes fixed on a shadowed corner where General Hale loomed.  

With practiced subtlety, Derek handed off one drink after another to his cousin. Theo, oblivious as ever, accepted each glass with a self-satisfied grin. His Beta chest puffed out as though trying to prove his worth. As though liquor could substitute for the instincts he didn’t possess.  

Stiles tracked the progression with an all-too-familiar eye. Having no interest in bearing witness to the inevitable collapse, he slipped through the crowd.  

When he reached the alcove, he leaned casually against the cool stone beside the General, close enough to speak without being overheard.  

“I know what you’re doing,” Stiles murmured.  

Derek didn’t turn his head. “You’ll have to enlighten me, my grace.”  

A guard suddenly approached. 

“Apologies, General Hale. The... future king...,” he stuttered. “He’s not well.” 

Stiles and Derek turned toward the dance floor just in time to see Theo collapse in a graceless heap. Guests quickly looked away, expressions flickering between discomfort and disdain.  

“Stay here,” Derek ordered with a sigh. As he stepped past Stiles, his hand brushed the Omega’s arm in a fleeting, deliberate touch that sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine.  

Derek crossed the ballroom with the kind of force that demanded attention. He hauled the Beta to his feet as though he weighed nothing, and half-dragged, half-carried him out of the room.  

By the time Derek returned, only a few servants lingered, discreetly collecting discarded plates and glasses.  

“Is he asleep?” Stiles asked, voice dry.  

“Passed out is more accurate,” General Hale replied grimly, rubbing the back of his neck.  

“Charming.” 

Derek’s expression softened. “May I escort you to your room?”  

“You may.” Stiles slipped his hand into the crook of Derek’s elbow.  

Their walk through the palace corridors was quiet, the only sounds coming from the steady rhythm of their footsteps and the soft crackle of torchlight.  

The history of the Hales lined the walls in framed portraits. To keep their grip on power, the Hales had always ensured their bloodline spread far and wide. It wasn’t just about producing heirs, but rather about control. Hales ran everything, from the markets to the military and from the courts to the schools. Their rule extended into every facet of life, ensuring that no matter what happened to the crown, their dynasty would remain unshaken.  

Stiles’ room was on a different floor than Theo’s, and he found solace in the fact that the Beta, bound by tradition, would not touch him until their union was sealed.  

Since Theo was only a Beta, they wouldn’t be mated like an Alpha and an Omega. But that didn’t stop Theo from boasting to anyone who would listen about his grand plans for their wedding night. Stiles could barely stomach the thought, and his insides twisted with disgust.  

At his door, Stiles paused, turning to face Derek. “I guess your plan worked then?” he said, referring to the prince passing out.  

“It’s best for everyone if my cousin doesn’t speak too much.” Derek’s lips quirked into a faint smile.  

“Can you stay a bit longer?” Stiles’ voice dropped to a whisper. He wasn’t sure why he asked, but he didn’t regret it.  

Derek’s jaw tightened as he studied him. Without a word, he stepped forward, his imposing frame closing the distance between them, herding Stiles backward into the bedroom. Each step made the Omega’s breath catch.  

The door clicked shut behind them.  

Derek’s hands found Stiles’ waist, the grip firm but measured, as though he was testing the boundaries. Derek turned him effortlessly, pressing his back against the cool stone wall. The temperature of the stone sent a shiver through him, heightened by the contrast of Derek’s solid warmth pressing against him.  

Stiles drew in a sharp breath as Derek’s arousal, hard and insistent, pressed against his stomach. Derek leaned in, resting his forehead against Stiles, their breaths mingling in the charged space between them.  

“This is a bad idea,” Derek murmured, his voice a low, gravelly growl that betrayed the strain of his restraint. 

Stiles’ hands lifted to Derek’s forearms, fingers grazing the hard lines of muscle that flexed under the touch.  

Before Stiles could respond, Derek surged forward. 

The moment their lips met, something broke inside both of them. Derek’s restraint, his carefully controlled demeanor, shattered. Their mouths clashed in a fevered exchange of lips and tongues. 

Stiles tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding into Derek’s thick, dark hair. He tugged lightly, earning a low, grunt from the Alpha. Derek’s lips left his, trailing along Stiles’ jawline and down to the tender skin of his neck. Stiles gasped, his head falling back to offer Derek better access. Derek groaned, his hands sliding up Stiles’ sides, his thumbs tracing the curves of his ribs as though memorizing every inch of them.  

Derek’s hands dipped lower, finding the waistband of Stiles’ pants. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, seeking the heat pooling between Stiles’ thighs.  

Stiles let out a sharp gasp, his body arching at the intimate touch. Derek hesitated, waiting until Stiles nodded frantically.  

“Has anyone touched you here before?” Derek’s voice was a low rumble as his fingers explored the slick, sensitive folds.  

“No one. Please...” Stiles shook his head, biting his lip to suppress a whimper. “I don’t want him to be the first.”  

“My dear cousin doesn’t deserve this.” Derek’s eyes flashed red. He pressed a single finger inside Stiles. His body clenched around the finger, greedy and desperate for more even as he panted for breath. The Alpha pushed in to the last knuckle, curling his finger. Stiles’ hips stuttered helplessly forward, trying to take him deeper, closer. 

“More. Please.”  

Derek obliged, slipping a second finger inside, stretching him carefully. His knees buckled, but Derek’s strong arms looped around his waist.  

“You’re perfect. So perfect for me.”  

The praise sent a jolt of pleasure through Stiles, his body trembling as Derek worked the two fingers slowly. He gasped when Derek slipped in a third finger, his thumb pressing against Stiles’ clit, rubbing tight circles.  

“I’ve got you,” Derek whispered, the words a command and a promise as Stiles finally let go. His body clenched tightly around Derek’s fingers as waves of pleasure overtook him, leaving him gasping for air. The Alpha’s fingers were still moving as Stiles’ head fell forward against Derek’s chest.  

Derek’s free hand came up to hold the back of Stiles’ head, cradling him gently as he pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His fingers finally stilled inside Stiles, and he slowly withdrew them, earning a soft whine from the Omega.  

Stiles lifted his head slowly, his gaze locking with Derek’s. His trembling hands found Derek’s waistband, and he tugged gently, guiding the Alpha toward the large bed.  

Carefully, Stiles slid the fabric down, his fingertips brushing against the hard planes of Derek’s hips as the Alpha’s muscles shifted under his touch. When Derek’s cock finally sprang free, thick, and achingly hard, Stiles felt his breath hitch. His mouth watered at the sight. His sheer size was both intimidating and exhilarating. It was a challenge Stiles was more than ready to meet.  

The Omega knelt on the soft mattress, eye-level with Derek’s cock, and reached out to wrap his hand around the base. His lips parted, and without looking away from Derek’s eyes, he leaned forward. His tongue darted out to flick against the swollen head of the Alpha’s cock. He licked a long, wet stripe along the underside of Derek’s shaft. The taste of salt and skin flooded his senses. Stiles dragged his tongue to the tip again, swirling it around the head. Derek’s hand came to rest on the back of Stiles’ head, his fingers tangling in his brown hair.  

He took the tip of the Alpha’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked lightly. His hand was still gripping the base as he stroked it slowly in time with his mouth movements.  

Stiles took more of Derek into his mouth, inch by inch, his lips stretching around his thickness.  

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek rasped, his voice hoarse. Stiles moaned softly around Derek’s cock, making the Alpha’s hips jerk forward. Hearing his name from Derek’s lips felt strange, it was almost always ‘your grace’. But now it was just ‘Stiles’ raw and intimate in a way that made his heart race. “Come here.”  

He pulled Stiles up to capture his lips again. Derek’s mouth was hot, his lips bruising against Stiles’ tongue, tangling in a messy, hungry exchange.  

Derek shifted effortlessly, rolling them over until his large, powerful frame hovered over Stiles, enveloping him completely.  

The Alpha’s hands were everywhere, rough calloused fingers trailing down Stiles’ sides. He peeled away the fabric of Stiles’ clothes until he laid bare beneath Derek.  

Derek’s eyes darkened as they roamed over Stiles’ naked body, taking in every inch of flushed skin. He made quick work of his own clothes, tearing them off with little care as they joined the growing pile on the floor. Derek’s body pressed down against Stiles again. The heat of Derek’s body was like a furnace against him.  

His hips rolled forward just enough so that the hot tip of his cock dragged along Stiles’ slick folds. Stiles whined as he clutched at the Alpha’s shoulders, his nails digging into the firm muscle beneath his hands.  

“Are you ready?” Derek whispered as he aligned himself at the Omega’s entrance. Stiles could feel the heat of Derek’s cock pressing just barely against him.  

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded. His legs were spread wide as Derek leaned over him. The Alpha’s eyes, darkened with desire, never left Stiles’ as he pushed forward, the broad head of his cock breaching Stiles with a deliciously slow stretch.  

“Breathe, baby,” Derek murmured, his voice soft yet commanding. Stiles’ breath hitched, and Derek stilled, buried just a few inches inside him. Derek’s solid and warm hands stroked over the Omega’s hips in soothing circles.  

“Are you... are you in?” Stiles asked, breathless. He already felt so full.  

The Alpha chuckled. “Not even close.”  

Derek’s hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding Stiles’ clit. The Omega let out a soft whimper as he felt his body begin to relax and open up more for Derek.  

“You’re doing so good. Taking my cock so well.” Derek’s cock sunk deeper into Stiles’ tight, wet heat, inch by inch. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”  

Stiles could only moan in response, his mind too foggy with pleasure to form words. Derek’s hips moved in slow, steady thrusts, his cock filling Stiles completely. His fingers on Stiles’ clit never stopped moving, the slow, torturous circles driving the Omega higher and higher.  

“I-oh gods,” Stiles gasped, clenching around Derek’s cock.  

Derek’s hips snapped forward harder. Stiles could feel the Alpha’s knot beginning to swell, thickening inside him, stretching him even further.  

His movements became more urgent, his pace relentless as his knot grew. Each thrust made Stiles cry out, overwhelmed by the sheer impossibility of fitting something so big inside him. And yet his body strained toward it, slick and open, desperate to take it. “It’s not going to fit,” Stiles moaned.  

“It will.”  

Derek’s hands gripped Stiles’ waist tightly, pulling him down on his cock, the force of his movement rocking Stiles’ body beneath him.  

Stiles whimpered as Derek’s knot, now fully swollen, pressed harder against Stiles’ entrance.  

With a final stroke of Derek’s fingers over his clit, Stiles shattered. The orgasm ripped through him, violent and overwhelming. Derek growled, feeling the Omega’s body tighten around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. The sensation was too much, and with a rough thrust, Derek’s knot pushed fully inside Stiles, locking them together as his own orgasm hit.  

His hips jerked as he spilled into the Omega, his knot pulsing inside Stiles, stretching him wide as their bodies moved together in the aftermath. Stiles moaned weakly. He was limp beneath Derek, utterly spent.  

“It’s too much,” Stiles gasped.  

Derek pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles’ temple. His hand stroked along the Omega’s body, grounding him as their bodies remained connected.  

He shifted carefully, cradling Stiles as he rolled them to the side to avoid putting too much weight on him. Stiles whimpered at the movement but quickly settled as Derek’s warmth enveloped him. As Derek continued to stroke his hands over him, whispering soft words into his hair, Stiles finally allowed himself to relax completely. Something he hadn't been able to do since arriving here. 

Present 

Stiles knocked softly on General Hale’s door.  

“Come in,” came the familiar deep voice from inside, its rich timbre enough to send a shiver down Stiles’ spine. A grin tugged at his lips as he pushed the door open.  

Slipping inside, Stiles shut the door quietly, his fingers lingering for a moment on the cool wood before he turned the lock with a soft click. Derek was already rising from his desk, his tall frame commanding the room.  

“Your grace,” Derek greeted, his tone formal yet tinged with something softer, something personal.  

“General Hale,” Stiles mirrored his formal tone, though his eyes sparkled with mischief as he moved further into the room.  

Derek’s brows knitted together, a flicker of concern clouding his features. “Is everything okay?” 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” the Omega said, closing the distance between them with slow, measured steps. 

“That’s never a good sign.” Derek huffed a quiet laugh. 

“What’s best for the kingdom,” Stiles continued, his voice now a low, honeyed drawl, “is for the Queen to be satisfied.” 

Derek froze, his posture stiffening as he watched Stiles perch himself on the edge of the desk. The Omega’s legs parted just slightly, enough to draw the Alpha’s gaze downward.  

“And I’m not satisfied.”  

“Is that so?” Derek’s eyes darkened, his gaze lingering on the long stretch of Stiles’ legs. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. The air between them grew thick as Derek’s breathing deepened. “Baby, we can’t.”  

“Why not?” Stiles tilted his head, his expression playful. “The King can’t give me what I need. But you can.”  

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”  

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m asking for,” Stiles countered.  

The Alpha’s resolve cracked, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His eyes glowed faintly red as his hands found Stiles’ hips, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.  

Stiles gasped, his legs instinctively wrapped around Derek’s waist as their mouths collided. He moaned softly into the kiss, his fingers threading through Derek’s dark hair and tugging as their bodies pressed together. His hips rocked against Derek’s with an urgency that made the Alpha groan.  

“Fuck,” Derek muttered against Stiles’ lips, his hands tightening their grip on the Omega’s waist. In one fluid motion, he lifted Stiles off the desk, cradling him against his broad chest.  

“Please,” Stiles whimpered. “I haven’t orgasmed in forever.”  

Derek paused, his dark eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and raw hunger.  

“Baby,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “the last time we fucked was two weeks ago.”  

“Exactly, Derek. Forever.”  

Stiles clung to the alpha, his body fitting perfectly against Derek’s. By the time they reached the bed, he set Stiles down carefully as though the Omega was something precious. Stiles laid back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His legs parted, an unspoken invitation that Derek couldn’t resist.  

“You look so beautiful,” Derek murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Desperate for my cock.” 

Derek lowered himself over Stiles, his lips pressing feather-light kisses along the delicate line of Stiles’ collarbone. When he finally claimed his mouth again, the kiss deep and all-consuming, a melding of their breaths as though they couldn’t get close enough.  

Stiles arched into him, his body seeking every point of contact it could find. Derek made quick work of their clothes until every barrier between them was gone, leaving only the warmth of skin against skin.  

The Alpha’s hands roamed hungrily, sliding down Stiles’ sides to rest at his hips, his thumbs brushing teasingly against the sensitive skin there. His fingers trailed lower, exploring until they reached the slick heat between Stiles’ legs.  

Stiles gasped sharply, his hips bucking into the touch as Derek’s fingers brushed against him, teasing the wetness there.  

“I’ve been dreaming about your pussy,” Derek groaned, his voice rough with desire.  

“Then do something about it.”  

“Bossy, bossy.” A low chuckle vibrated in Derek’s chest as he began to kiss his way down Stiles’ body. His lips lingered at the hollow of Stiles’ throat, then the curve of his ribs, before moving lower.  

By the time Derek’s mouth hovered over Stiles’ dripping heat, the Omega was trembling. Derek’s lips pressed against Stiles, the first touch sending a jolt through his body.  

Stiles arched off the bed, his chest heaving as Derek groaned against him. Derek’s tongue slid between Stiles’ folds, slow as if savoring every taste. The Alpha’s hands gripped Stiles’ thighs, holding him steady as he worked.  

The Omega’s fingers tangled in Derek’s hair, pulling hard enough to sting, but Derek only growled in response, the sound reverberating against Stiles’ sensitive skin. Stiles tried to form words, but they dissolved into gasps and broken moans as Derek’s tongue swirled and flicked.  

“You taste so fucking good.” Derek pressed his face deeper into Stiles, his tongue moving faster now.  

Derek focused on Stiles’ clit, applying just the right amount of pressure as he circled it with his tongue, teasing before sucking gently. Each movement sent a fresh pleasure coursing through Stiles, the sensation building unbearably until it finally snapped.  

Stiles cried out, his body jerking as the orgasm tore through him. Derek stayed with him, his tongue and lips coaxing every last tremor from Stiles’ body until the Omega was left boneless and breathless beneath him.  

Derek finally lifted his head, his chin glistening with Stiles’ arousal, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Stiles managed a weak laugh, reaching out to pull Derek back up toward him, needing to feel the weight of him again.  

“Fuck me,” Stiles murmured.  

“Gladly.” Derek rolled them over, his strong hands guiding Stiles to straddle him, so that now the Omega was on top, his thighs spread wide over Derek’s hips. “Think you can ride me?”  

Stiles felt like his body was made of jelly, the aftermath of his orgasm still leaving his muscles weak and trembling, but he was desperate to feel Derek’s thick long cock inside him again, stretching him open.  

With a determined exhale, Stiles wrapped his fingers around Derek’s cock. He positioned himself over Derek, his body trembling as he lined the thick length up with his entrance. The tip nudged against his wet heat, and Stiles bit his lower lip. A low moan escaped him as he slowly began to lower himself. His mouth parted in a silent cry, overwhelmed by the sensation.  

“Slowly, baby. It’s been a while,” Derek softly said.  

“And whose fault is that?” Stiles breathed out. Derek’s hands gripped Stiles’ hips, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he fought to stay still. Stiles knew it was taking everything in Derek not to flip him over and take control.  

Stiles whimpered as he finally sank all the way down, Derek’s cock fully sheathed inside him. He felt impossibly full, stretched to his limit, and Derek hadn’t even started to knot yet. Stiles struggled to adjust to the size of Derek’s cock, his body shaking with the effort of holding himself steady.  

Unable to keep upright, the Omega collapsed forward, his chest pressed flush against Derek’s solid frame. His heart pounded in his chest as he panted into Derek’s neck, the warmth of his breath ghosting over the Alpha’s skin.  

Derek’s hands were firm as they gripped Stiles’ waist. He planted his feet against the mattress, his legs flexing as he slowly lifted Stiles up just enough to let his cock slide out slightly, before guiding him back down. Derek let Stiles feel every inch, every ridge, the sheer of thickness of his cock dragging against Stiles’ slick walls.  

“What would the kingdom say if they could see you now? Bouncing on my cock like this.”  

Stiles whimpered in response, his nails raking down Derek’s chest. Derek began to lift his hips, thrusting into him with more force. His pace quickened as he thrusted harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Stiles’ breath came in ragged, desperate gasps as he struggled to keep up with the rhythm Derek set.  

“They’d see,” Stiles managed to gasp, his voice catching as Derek’s cock hit that perfect spot inside him. “They’d see how you should be King.”  

Derek groaned at Stiles’ words. The Omega cried out as he felt the base of Derek’s cock swelling, stretching him further, the knot beginning to form. It was thick and pulsing, the sensation was almost too much to bear. The pressure was intense, pushing Stiles to another orgasm as Derek’s knot filled him completely.  

“You feel that?” Derek growled, his breath hot against Stiles’ ear as he continued to thrust, his knot swelling with every movement. “My cousin wishes he could have a knot like mine.”  

Stiles moaned as his hips rocked against Derek’s in a desperate attempt to take him deeper, harder. The knot pushed against Stiles’ insides, locking them together, sealing Derek inside him. 

As the knot locked in place, Derek’s thrust became shallow, his hips grinding up into Stiles as sought his own release.  

Derek’s knot swelled impossibly large inside him. The Alpha pulled Stiles down firmly, making sure he couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the fullness. Stiles pressed his face into the crook of Derek’s neck. He could feel Derek’s cock pulsing inside him, the knot so large it felt like it was splitting him in two.  

Stiles’ eyes rolled back as Derek began to pump into him. The warm, thick liquid filled him in deep, powerful bursts, and his body shuddered as the pressure inside him intensified. Derek groaned beneath him, his voice low and primal as he continued to release inside Stiles. His stomach felt tight, stretched, as if it were growing with the sheer volume of Derek’s seed.  

“Derek,” Stiles whimpered.  

Derek thrusted shallowing, grinding his hips up into Stiles, forcing his release even deeper. Stiles’ muscles clenched around Derek’s knot, and he cried out as he came again.  

It wasn’t shocking that Theo wanted an heir, all Kings did. What was shocking was that the Beta thought his weak sperm could produce one.  

“I mean, can you believe him?” Stiles laughed. “He actually thinks he can knock me up.”  

A low growl rumbled from behind him. Derek’s hands gripped Stiles’ hips, pulling him back gently, positioning the Omega on all fours.  

“If you’re still thinking about my cousin,” Derek started. “Then I must not be doing a good enough job.” The thick head of his cock pressed against Stiles’ slick entrance.  

Stiles didn’t have time to brace himself before Derek began to push in. His arms trembled beneath him, palms flattening against the mattress as his breath hitched. It was always like this, overwhelming in a way that was almost unbearable, and yet his body welcomed it every time.  

And then, without warning, Derek snapped his hips forward and slammed the rest of the way. Stiles cried out, his entire body jerking from the force.   

Derek leaved over him, the Alpha’s chest pressing heavy against Stiles’ back, his breath hot against Stiles’ neck as he growled, “I’ll give you what he can’t.” His hips pulled back slowly, dragging his cock out with an agonizing slowness that left the Omega feeling empty, only to thrust back in with a force that made Stiles see stars.  

Stiles’ hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets, fists curling tightly as Derek set a brutal rhythm.  

“Yeah?” Stiles managed to choke out between thrusts, “You gonna knock me up, big guy?”  

“If that’s what the kingdom needs.”  

“What about what I need?”  

Derek shifted his position, his large arms wrapping around Stiles’ waist and pulling him up from his hands and knees. Stiles’ back arched as Derek lifted him, repositioning him so that he was now sitting in the Alpha’s lap.  

Stiles’ head lolled back onto Derek’s broad shoulder, his lips parting in a gasp as the angle sent a wave of dizzying sensation through him. Derek’s hands gripped his hips firmly, lifting and guiding Stiles, bouncing him on his cock. Each movement drove Derek deeper inside him.  

“And what do you need, baby?” Derek’s voice was low and rough. Stiles’ eyes were half-lidded as he lost himself in the sensation of Derek’s thick cock filling him to the brim. Each time Derek’s cock stretched him, he felt like he might fall apart, completely undone by the Alpha. “Do you want my pups?”  

The idea of Derek filling him, of carrying his children, made his entire body thrum with need.  

“Look how open you are,” the Alpha murmured. His fingers traced the slick folds of Stiles’ entrance, brushing against where they were connected. Stiles whimpered, his body clenching around Alpha. “So open for me.”  

Stiles could feel Derek’s cock twitch inside him, and he knew it drove the Alpha wild with possessive pride.  

“Please,” Stiles moaned.  

“Please what?” 

“Put a baby in me.”  

“I’ll fill you so deeply you won’t be able to walk without feeling me inside you. I’ll fuck my pups into you until there’s no question who you belong to,” Derek murmured darkly, his lips brushing against Stiles’ ear.  

Stiles’ entire body shuddered at the sound of Derek’s voice, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he came.  

It wasn’t just a promise. It was a reality. Everyone knew an Alpha’s sperm was a hundred times more powerful than a Beta’s, biologically designed to ensure conception, to dominate, to claim.  

The thought of Derek’s seed taking root inside him, of carrying his babies, made his whole-body thrum with desire. No more secretly sipping morning-after tonics brewed by cautious royal staff. No more pretending he didn’t ache for this.  

Derek slowly laid Stiles back down, guiding him onto his stomach. Stiles’ chest pressed into the mattress, his cheek resting against the cool sheets. He could feel Derek’s weight pressing down on him from behind, his hips rolling and thrusting deep into his slick heat. He was wet, swollen, stretched around Derek’s throbbing cock, greedily pulling him deeper.  

Stiles could feel the subtle swelling of Derek’s knot as it began to form, expanding slowly inside him.  

The knot grew larger with each passing movement.  

“Derek,” Stiles whined, his voice high and breathless. The knot was so thick now, and he could feel it pulsing inside him, stretching him.  

“You’re going to take all of me,” Derek growled. His hips grinded against Stiles’ ass. “You’re going to be so full of me, Stiles. Full of our pups.”  

With one final thrust, Derek’s knot finally locked into place. Stiles’ body shuddered as he surrendered completely to Derek, allowing himself to be consumed by the overwhelming fullness.  

“Good boy,” Derek murmured. He kissed the back of Stiles’ neck. He shifted slightly, his hips grinding once more to make sure his knot was securely locked in place.  

And then, slowly, he began to pump his seed into Stiles.  

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get pregnant. Not with how many times he hung off Derek’s knot. Every time Derek filled him, it left Stiles trembling and utterly spent. Soon enough the signs were there, his belly beginning to swell with the proof of what they had created together.  

Of course, Theo took all the credit.  

Stiles couldn’t contain his frustration every time Theo bragged about how he had “knocked up his Omega.” He strutted around the palace, boasting to anyone who would listen. Theo was so self-absorbed, so wrapped up in his delusions, that he actually believed he was the one responsible.  

At least Derek was the only Alpha in the palace. Theo only kept Betas and Omegas in court, something about not wanting to feel inferior. It worked in Stiles and Derek’s favor, though. They didn’t have to worry about anyone else catching the scent of what was really going on.  

Not that anyone would care, even if they could smell the truth. Most of the court despised Theo. They whispered behind his back, calling him weak, unfit to rule. It wasn’t just those in the palace who were disillusioned with the King. There was a growing sense of unrest in the kingdom itself, a quiet rebellion brewing under the surface. No one believed Theo could lead them through this war.  

Stiles was grateful he could use the pregnancy as an excuse. Theo, being the fool that he was, had believed every word Stiles had told him. Stiles had feigned nausea, complaining about how sick he was feeling, making sure to mention that the King should be “so proud” for getting the job done so quickly. Theo had puffed up with self-importance, not bothering to question anything further. He seemed content to let Stiles rest, satisfied that he’d fulfilled his royal duty.  

Theo had even assigned Derek as Stiles’ personal guard whenever he wasn’t by the King’s side.  

If only Theo knew the truth, that the child growing inside Stiles was pure Alpha, sired not by the King, but by his most trusted ally.  

When Prince Edric, named after the last good King, reached his first birthday, the palace erupted into a carefully choreographed celebration. But for Stiles, the true celebration began only once King Theo departed the very next morning.  

The royal caravan stretched far past the palace gates. An impressive stream of shining carriages, armored guards, and fluttering banners disappeared down the winding road toward the coast.  

Stiles stood on the palace steps with Edric perched on his hip, his blood thrumming with anticipation.  

Theo would be gone for seven days.  

And Derek would not.  

Their eyes met for only a second as the procession rounded the bend, but it was enough. Derek’s gaze was like a hand on his skin, hot, possessive, full of intent. Stiles responded in kind, lips curling into a quiet wicked smile before he turned and walked back inside.  

By now, Stiles knew better than to be surprised by Theo’s staggering stupidity, but Edric was the splitting image of Derek. Same raven-black hair and piercing green eyes. Traits, Theo attributed to “strong Hale blood”, despite the fact that his own hair was sandy brown. Edric was even an Alpha which Stiles thought for sure would give it away as it was almost near impossible for a Beta to sire an Alpha. But Theo believed his sperm was just that powerful. Fucking idiot. 

The palace was cloaked in silence when Stiles heard the faintest sound of his door open, so quiet it barely registered, but his body reacted before his brain caught up. He always knew when it was Derek.  

Stiles was already moving towards him. Every minute they’d spent apart coiled tight inside him, wound with longing and restraint, and too many nights curled alone under silk sheets that didn’t smell like Derek. All of it unraveled in an instant.  

He collided with him at the door, hands fisting in the dark leather of Derek’s uniform, mouth crashing into his. The kiss was savage, teeth clashing, lips slick, and desperate. Weeks of pretending not to ache had caught fire. Stiles whimpered into the heat of it, fingers clawing at the buckles and buttons, jerking Derek toward the bed without ever breaking contact.  

Clothes were discarded in a blur. It was messy, graceless, nothing like the quiet elegance expected of the Queen Consort. But Stiles didn’t care. He never had, not with Derek. Not when he was so close to breaking apart.  

Derek’s hands gripped his thighs and lifted him like he weighed nothing, like Stiles wasn’t already trembling, flushed and aching. Stiles gasped as his back hit the bed, legs falling open, baring his slick, needy cunt to the cool air. The fire cast golden light across Derek’s chest and arms, painting him in a shadow and burnished amber. His eyes drank the Omega in and Stiles felt heat rise to his cheeks.  

Derek looked at him like he was holy.  

The next kiss was slower, like worship, more deliberate. Their tongues brushed and Stiles moaned, hips twitching when Derek’s fingers finally slid through the slick heat between his thighs.  

The first thick finger pushed into him as Stiles cried out, his body clenching and opening all at once. He didn’t try to hide the sound. Gods, why would he? It had been too long.  

Another finger, then a third. Derek curled them just right, pressing deep, drawing helpless gasps from Stiles’ throat. He felt raw and open.  

“Please,” he whispered.  

He barely had time to inhale before Derek pulled his fingers free and shifted over him, lining up. The blunt head of his cock pressed against his entrance, thick and hot.  

Stiles exhaled, his hands flying to Derek’s shoulders, nails digging in as Derek pushed in. He was full, so full, his cunt stretching greedily to accommodate the slow, deep slide.  

“Fuck.” Derek bent down to kiss him again.  

The first thrust was deep. The second made Stiles cry out, legs tightening around Derek’s waist. Every stroke felt too much and not enough. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm older than thought, instinct and need crashing together like the waves against the shore.  

Derek mouthed at Stiles’ throat, his jaw, finally sucking hard at the delicate pulse point until Stiles keened. The bruise bloomed quickly, and something in Stiles thrilled at the mark.  

When the pressure built in his gut, it rose fast. His orgasm overtook him in a white-hot burst, pleasure spiking like lightening. His body clamped down around Derek, inner walls rippling, spasming in rhythmic waves.  

Derek slowed his thrusts, only briefly, letting Stiles ride the high. He coaxed more soft sounds from him. He shifted, lifting Stiles’ hips higher and pulling his own body back until he was kneeling between Stiles’ spread legs. He grabbed beneath his knees and pushed them up toward his chest, folding him open.  

Stiles felt utterly exposed, cunt slick and clenching, but then Derek thrusted and all shame scattered.  

This angle was deeper, somehow heavier. Each push knocked a whimper from Stiles’ throat, each withdrawal left him gasping and empty. He was crying out again, helpless to the sensitivity. And then, gods, then Derek changed the angle again, one hand sliding under his hips, pulling him down to meet each thrust.  

Stiles’ second orgasm hit harder.  

His back arched off the mattress, hands scrambling for purchase, head tossed back in silent scream. Derek fucked him through it, swearing into his skin.  

Derek’s knot was beginning to swell. Stiles could feel it, the thickening girth pressing in with every thrust. His body instinctively tried to pull him back in. He whimpered, already so full, but aching for it.  

“Please-”  

Derek growled low in his throat, thrusts becoming tighter, more grinding than pounding now. His cock bulged at the base, the pressure mounting. He worked his hips slowly, easing it in with deep, rolling motions.  

The knot stretched him wide, until with a final push, it slipped past. Thick, hot spurts filled him, locked deep inside, and Stiles shook through the sheer force of it.  

Derek braced himself above Stiles and began to rock again, small, grinding motions that sent aftershocks through Stiles’ oversensitive body. His cunt could only spasm helplessly, milking every drop. 

The ache between his legs had grown from a dull soreness into something sharper. A slow-burning throb that pulsed with every step, every shift of fabric. It was a constant reminder of Derek’s knot stretching him open the night before. He could still feel the ghost of teeth on his throat and his inner thighs were tender from being held apart for so long. His cunt slicked again at the memory, betraying him while he sat through two counsel meetings and a tedious luncheon with the High Steward, trying to look composed while his body shook with the aftershocks of being thoroughly used.  

He pushed open the door to his private chambers expecting silence, solitude, maybe even a chance to change clothes and bathe.  

Instead, Derek was already there. He stood near the arched window, the moonlight catching in his dark hair and setting a golden rim around the hard line of his jaw. Stiles felt the breath rush out of him like a punch.  

Derek was on him within a heartbeat. He barely had time to gasp before he was spun around, bent over the nearest chaise. One strong hand pressed to the small of his back while the other yanked his trousers down. His cunt clenched around nothing, slick already pooling again. Derek’s fingers dipped between his folds, dragging through the mess and Stiles jolted.  

“Still sore?” Derek’s voice was low as fingers began spreading him open.  

Stiles groaned, not even trying to pretend otherwise. “Yes-”  

Derek pushed in, the thick head of his cock splitting him open all over again. He settled in fully, hips flush to Stiles’ ass.  

The thrusts were slow. Deep. Derek knew exactly how sensitive he was. He could feel it in the way Stiles trembled with every slow withdrawal, the way his breath caught at every glide over his swollen, tender inner walls.  

Knock. Knock.  

“Your grace? I bring word from the high council.”  

Fuck, it was Sir Matt. Theo’s favorite hound, the one who always lurked where he wasn’t wanted.  

Derek didn’t stop, instead he gripped Stiles harder.  

“Derek,” Stiles hissed, trying to twist away, but there was no room to move. Derek’s hips rolled forward in a slow, brutal thrust that made his knees buckle. 

“Talk to him,” Derek murmured against his neck.  

Stiles swallowed, forced his voice from somewhere high in his chest. “Just... leave it at the door.”  

There was a pause.  

“Are you-” The knight’s voice dropped a note. “You sound... is everything alright?”  

Derek’s cock dragged and shoved in again. Stiles’ teeth sank into the velvet cushion to muffle the sound, his entire body twitching.  

“I’m -” his voice broke. “I’m fine. It’s been a long. Just... tired.”  

The Alpha’s hand slipped forward, pressing down hard against his lower belly right above where he was driving into him. Stiles bit back a sob.  

Another pause.  

“Very well.”  

The footsteps finally treated.  

The second the hallway went quiet, Derek changed pace entirely.  

He slammed into him.  

Stiles cried out, his breath stuttering. His hands clawed at the chaise as his body was pounded into it.  

“You bastard-”  

“You loved it,” Derek growled.  

And Stiles did. His cunt was leaking around him, soaking both of them. Wet obscene sounds filled the quiet of the room. The burn of soreness never faded, but it was now laced with pleasure. Each thrust sent his body into overdrive, his nerves overstimulated and overwhelmed.  

The heat in his belly built slowly, almost painfully so. He could feel it coming, could feel it start to curl through him. It wasn’t quick, not this time. Derek was drawing it out, working him deeper, letting his pleasure mount and peak and recede over and over until Stiles didn’t know which way was up or down.  

“Derek - I can’t-” Stiles gasped.  

The orgasm hit him. It felt like his whole body was cracking open from the inside. His arms gave out as his vision went white around the edges.  

Derek shifted, one arm sliding around Stiles’ waist, the other braced to lift and flip him over. The Omega landed on his back across the chaise.  

Derek hovered above him, his cock still buried inside him. “You left me with nothing but my hand.” His hips began to move again. “And memories of how you taste.”  

He was gentler now, the thrusts shallower.  

Derek kissed him, his throat, his shoulder, the corner of his mouth. The thick base of Derek’s cock began to swell.  

Gods. Yes.  

The Alpha groaned and began to grind deeper. Small, precise thrusts.  

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Derek whispered against his throat. “Playing the perfect Queen while I fucked you open.”  

Derek cock twitched inside, knot holding it all in place as he filled him in waves.  

“I hate you.”  

“No, you don’t.” 

And gods help him, he was right.  

The steam had thinned by the time Derek slipped inside the bathing chamber on their last night. The marble room was quiet, with candlelight flickering along the walls. Stiles was half-draped in the sunken tub. One arm was slung over the edge, while his head tilted back. His skin was flushed, his lashes damp. He looked soft and undone in the kind of way that only hot water and too many nights of not sleeping could produce.  

“I thought you’d come earlier,” he said, voice rough from the way he’d been moaning Derek’s name for the past week.  

“You looked tired.” Derek began to strip quietly.  

Stiles let one leg rise from the water, stretching lazily.  He touched his toes to Derek’s hip.  

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”  

That earned him a small intake of breath and twitch of Derek’s jaw. The Alpha stepped into the tub.  

Stiles reached for him immediately.  

Derek knelt in the water between Stiles’ legs, their bodies slipping easily into alignment. Stiles pulled him in for a kiss, slow, soaking in all the words they didn’t say aloud. Derek’s hands slid beneath his thighs, lifting them to wrap around his waist.  

“We don’t have to do anything,” Derek whispered, fingers stroking along the back of his knee. “We can stay just like this.”  

Stiles nodded but didn’t let go. “Still want you.”  

His body was tender from nights before, used in all the right ways, but that ache inside him. The one Derek always touched without even trying. It had only grown.  

Derek kissed him again, gentle, like they had all the time in the world.  

“I want to ride you,” Stiles said, feeling Derek’s cock throb between them in response.  

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Derek breathed.  

“You’ll die a happy man.”  

Stiles shifted, rising up in the water to straddle Derek’s lap. It took some effort, his limbs weren’t as cooperative as they had been the nights before. But Derek steadied him with firm hands, letting him take the lead.  

He braced himself on Derek’s shoulders, guiding Derek’s cock with one hand and lining them up.  

“Easy,” Derek said, grounding him.  

Stiles breathed through, slow and steady. Feeling every stretch and slide as he sank down, burying Derek inside him.  

The room was quiet. Stiles could feel the thick press of Derek inside him as he began to move. He rolled his hips in small circles, the water rocking with them.  

He leaned back a little, changing the angle.  

“There - fuck,” he gasped.  

Derek groaned low and thrust up, matching him.  

Stiles came, muscles clenching as he gasped against Derek’s shoulder.  

He briefly registered Derek’s arms wrapping around him, lifting him out of the water. The air was cool against his flushed skin. He curled in, boneless and dazed, as Derek walked them the few feet to the bedchamber and laid him down with unbearable gentleness.  

The sheets were soft as the mattress dipped beneath him.  

Stiles opened his eyes just enough to watch Derek crawl over him. He slid back inside, slowly. One hand tangled with Stiles’ at the crown of his head while the other braced beside his ribs. Stiles arched up, burying his face in Derek’s throat, breath hitching with every thrust.  

Derek leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You’re incredible. So good for me.”  

The knot came on gradually, Derek’s thrusts shortening as the thick base of his cock began to swell. He kissed his temple and whispered something quiet and broken into his damp hair.  

And Stiles... let him.  

Because even if they couldn’t say everything yet. Not while Theo’s name still echoed in the court hall.  

This.  

This was real.  

This was chosen.  

And for tonight, it was enough.  

Prince Elias was born nine months later. 

Stiles sat in the nursery’s rocking chair with Elias nestled in the crook of his arm. The baby’s breath was warm, puffing in his soft, shallow exhales that matched the slow rise and fall of his barely-there chest.  

Afternoon light filtered in through the tall windows, casting soft gold onto the pale rugs, scattered toys, and the well-worn cushions that lined the corners of the room.  

Edric sat crossed legged nearby, brows furrowed in careful concentration as he stacked wooden blocks into a tall, wobbly tower. His tongue peeked out from the corner of his mouth while he hummed softly.  

It had been weeks since Derek (and Theo) left for the western front. Months since he whispered, I’ll write every chance I get, and Stiles, with stupid aching hope, had believed him.  

He was pissed.  

Or he had been.  

Now it just felt like pressing his thumb to a bruise that would never fade. A low-grade ache that sat inside his chest, lodged behind his sternum like old grief. 

He knew Derek didn’t owe him anything but still, it flared every time he checked the post and found nothing.  

A sharp clatter snapped his attention back to the present. Edric had jumped up, his tower of blocks now collapsed with wooden pieces bouncing across the floor in every direction.  

His entire posture shifter, alert but not frightened. His nostrils flared delicately as the toddler lifted his chin and sniffed the air.  

The boy’s face lit up in an instant. His eyes flared faintly red, and his mouth opened in a delighted scream.  

“DeDe!”  

Edric's limbs tangled in his excitement, almost tripping over his own feet as he sprinted toward the door. His gait was still a little unsteady, much more confident than a Beta or Omega toddler, but not yet graceful.  

The door cracked open just a beat later, and Derek stepped inside.  

He looked tired.  

The leather of his armor was dulled from travel, dust still clinging to the hem of his cloak. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. But the moment Edric launched himself forward, none of that seemed to matter. Derek dropped his bag and caught the boy against his chest.  

“I smell’d you!” Edric beamed, arms thrown tight around Derek’s neck. He nuzzled close with a delighted growl. “I smell’d you, DeDe!”  

‘DeDe’ was what Edric started calling the Alpha months ago when ‘Derek’ had been too hard to say.  

They weren’t sure how much the boy could sense what was actually going on. It wasn’t like Theo was around the heirs much, and Edric, an Alpha like his true father, clearly recognized the bond, even if he couldn’t name it yet.  

Edric babbled on, a stream of sound about the broken tower, and Derek listened like none of it was too small. Like it was the only thing worth hearing. He murmured responses, soothing and soft, one hand bracing the boy’s back while the other combed gently through his hair.  

Stiles’ throat tightened. Elias stirred against him but didn’t wake.  

He watched as Derek’s gaze finally lifted, meeting his across the room.  

Derek’s eyes softened, apology and longing both flickering just behind the fatigue. His lips parted slightly like he might speak.  

“I assume the King was with you?” Stiles asked, rising smoothly from the rocking chair, careful not to jostle Elias too much.  

The Alpha’s eyes lingered on the baby with a flicker of emotion that was too hard to place, wonder, maybe. Pain.  

“He’s talking with the council now,” Derek said quietly. He nodded toward Elias, “He’s gotten bigger.” 

“You would know... if you had written.” Stiles arched a brow, his voice low.  

A pause. Derek’s jaw tensed, and his fingers tightened slightly where they supported Edric’s bottom. The toddler was still chattering softly into the shoulder, unaware of the tension in the room.  

“You’re angry.”  

Stiles gave a breathless, bitter laugh. “Months of silence and your first observation is that I’m angry.” 

Derek shifted Edric’s weight slightly.  

“Call for the nursemaids,” Stiles said stiffly. “The boys need a nap.”  

Within moments, two nursemaids appeared soft-footed, bowing slightly as they approached. Edric pouted when he was handed off, but a promise of juice and a story soothed him enough to be led away.  

The nursery door clicked close.  

Stiles turned to him fully now, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You could’ve sent anything. One line. One courier. You had the resources.”  

“I couldn’t,” Derek explained. “Not without putting the letters at risk. Putting you at risk.”  

“Bullshit. You didn’t have to go with him.”  

“You know why I had to go.” 

“Do I?” Stiles snapped. Derek’s mouth opened, then shut. “Say it. Go ahead. Tell me how it was for the good for the kingdom.” 

“I went with Theo,” Derek started carefully, “Because if I didn’t play the part, he’d start asking questions. About me. About them. I did it to protect you.”  

“Funny, how your protection always feels like abandonment.” Stiles turned away towards the window.  

“You think it was easy for me?” Derek’s voice was rougher now. “Being in the same room as Theo, listening to him talk about peace? He inherited this war from his father and now he only wants to end it to save his own ass. And I had to stand beside him, pretending like I believed in what he was talking about.”  

Stiles’ jaw tightened.  

“Beacon Hills doesn’t want Theo. They never did. They are exhausted. I had to go with him because if I didn’t, nothing would have changed,” Derek said. “While Theo met with the Argent leadership, I slipped away to speak with some of the younger soldiers. They’re tired too and not as loyal to their generals as the Argents think. They want peace but they don’t want Theo’s version of it.”  

He moved a step closer.  

“They’ll back me, Stiles. I know they will.”  

Stiles stared at him, mouth trembling. “And what? You think people will just accept you as King. You think if you end the war, Beacon Hills will rise up and throw a crown at your feet?”  

“I think they’ll accept someone who brings them peace. Who ends the bloodshed and gives them something to believe in again.”  

“What’s Theo going to do when he realizes it was you that undermined him? When he realizes you’ve been building a throne behind his back and warming the Queen’s bed at night.”  

“You asked me once, if I wanted to be King. I told you no,” Derek said quietly. Stiles nodded, numb. “I lied.”  

Derek stepped into his space, close enough that Stiles could feel the heat of him, the scent of travel and steel, and something more tender beneath it.  

“I want to be King if it means they’re safe. If it means I never have to leave you again. If it means the people have something better than the tyrant whose father stole the throne due to a technicality and let his kingdom bleed dry.” Derek lifted his hand, hovering near Stiles’ cheek but not touching. “I’ll burn the crown into my skin if it means I get to be with you.”  

“I hate you,” Stiles whispered.  

“You don’t.”  

Stiles didn’t argue. Instead, “When?”  

“When it’s ready,” Derek answered. “I need to make sure I have enough support that Beacon Hills won’t fall apart the moment he’s gone.”  

“And if it does?”  

“Then we build it again. Together.”  

“Theo?”  

“When it’s over, he won’t be a problem anymore.”  

Years later....  

Beacon Hills is in celebration as King Derek and Queen Consort Stiles announce the birth of their seventh child.