The Esteemed Valmoor Family

The dining hall was eerily silent, save for the occasional clinking of silverware against fine porcelain plates. Nevid Valmoor sat at the head of the table, his expression cold and unreadable. His sharp, calculating eyes swept over his wife and son before his deep voice broke the stillness.

"And Asahin?" he asked, his tone clipped and laced with quiet displeasure.

Tarya, his wife, exhaled dramatically, her delicate fingers toying with the stem of her wine glass as she feigned sorrow. "He refused the invitation, darling," she said, her voice carrying just the right amount of affected distress, as though his rejection had truly wounded her. "It pains me to say it, but he simply does not seem to care."

Nevid clicked his tongue, irritation flashing across his face. "Did you tell him it was important?"

"Of course, darling," Tarya continued smoothly, as if she had anticipated this reaction. "I explained that we were discussing his and Darrien's future roles within the family business, but he showed no interest whatsoever. He had the audacity to claim that he did not need to work for his money, that it was the Valmoor family's duty to provide for him."

She shook her head, allowing a note of disappointment to slip into her voice, through her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Lies spilled from her lips as easily as honey, each one woven seamlessly into the next, turning fiction into an irrefutable truth.

Nevid's grip tightened around his fork, his knuckles whitening. "Ungrateful child!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating off the high ceilings. "He refuses to work, barely attends university, and surrounds himself with friends he never bothers to introduce to his own family. I have tolerated his existence in spite of him being a defective omega and of no real use to this family's legacy, but he should at least have the decency to show some gratitude! The boy needs to be disciplined."

Tarya placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a calculated attempt to soothe his temper. "Calm yourself, darling," she murmured, her voice a sweet lullaby dipped in venom. "You don't want your blood pressure to spike again, now do you? Leave it to me. I will make sure he attends university more frequently, and I will find an appropriate position for him in one of the family's businesses. Surely, we can find some small, insignificant role that even a defective omega like Asahin can handle."

Nevid exhaled heavily, some of his anger dissipating as he looked at his wife with something bordering on admiration. "I knew I could rely on you, dearest," he said, his lips curling into a smile that made the air feel even colder. "That boy does not know how fortunate he is to have a mother like you."

Across the table, Darrien leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth tilting upward in satisfaction. "Mother is the best mother in the world," he declared, pleased that his father continued to entrust Asahin's fate to Tarya.

At first glance, they resembled the picture-perfect family—a wealthy, well-bred household merely burdened with the misfortune of a wayward son. But beneath the polished veneer, the truth was something far darker, a twisted mockery of love and kinship.

"Father," Darrien continued, eager to shift the conversation away from his wretched stepbrother, "Kaylen and I have been discussing our future, and we have decided to announce our engagement next month."

Nevid's blue eyes gleamed with approval, his previous ire forgotten in an instant. "That's wonderful news, son!" he exclaimed, leaning forward with palpable enthusiasm. "We must spare no expense. This engagement shall be the grandest event the kingdom has ever seen!"

The union of the Valmoor and Morrison families was a long-awaited inevitability, a carefully cultivated alliance designed to strengthen their hold over the kingdom's wealth and influence. For generations, they had waited for the right pairing—a first-class omega and a first-class alpha. And now, at last, fate had delivered.

For Nevid, this marriage was more than just an arrangement; it was salvation. It ensured that the Valmoor name would remain untarnished, its prestige and power solidified for generations to come. The heavens had favored him with the perfect son, a stark contrast to the shameful, defective omega from his first marriage.

His lips twisted in disgust as his thoughts drifted to Hina, his first wife—a mere stepping stone in his pursuit of wealth. He had married her for the dowry, a mine rich with the finest precious stones, a fortune too great to ignore. But her family's gamble had backfired spectacularly when she had given birth to Asahin, a frail, premature child whose pheromone glands had been deemed weak from the very start. Useless. A failure. And when Hina had fallen ill, rendering her incapable of bearing another child, Nevid had cast her aside like an old, broken toy. He had exiled her and her sickly son to an annex in the east wing, out of sight, out of mind.

Nevid's second wife, Tarya, had already given him Darrien—a son worthy of his name, with the potential of becoming a first-class omega.

Even though the manifestation came along a bit late, the doctors had been constantly reassuring Nevid that the dely was due to Darrien's body and mind adusting to a future high class manifestation. And sure enough, the manifestation happened during Darrien's twentieth year of life.

With Darrien's future so bright Nevid could almost forgive the gods for cursing him with Asahin. Almost. If only that wretched boy had died at birth, it would have spared Nevid years of bitterness and frustration.

After dinner, Nevid retired to his chambers, and Tarya and Darrien moved to the tea room. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as Tarya poured her son a cup, her movements elegant and practiced.

Darrien sipped his tea leisurely before casting a sidelong glance at his mother. "Mother, why don't we simply put an end to Asahin's misery?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.

Tarya's lips curled into an amused smile as she swirled her tea, watching the liquid spin lazily in the delicate porcelain cup. "Ah, my sweet boy, if only it were that simple," she sighed. "Had it been easy, I would have arranged for him to never wake up from that operation when he fell from the tree. But unfortunately, the Valmoor blood is a curse as much as it is a blessing. The laws of this kingdom dictate that any member of our bloodline who meets an untimely demise must be thoroughly investigated. The Valmoors installed these laws back when their heirs carried the titles of Archdukes."

Darrien frowned. "But those old titles have long since been abolished. The Valmoor name still carries weight, but it holds no nobility in today's society."

Tarya chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "The title may be gone, but the law remains. If we are to rid ourselves of that pest, we must be clever about it. We must make it appear as though he took his own life."

Darrien's lips parted in awe before he grinned, understanding dawning on him. "I trust you, Mother."

Tarya patted his hand affectionately. "You have always been my brightest star. I will see to it that nothing stands in your way."

Then, as though discussing something as mundane as a social gathering, Tarya shifted the topic. "By the way, sweetheart, how far have you gone with Kaylen?"

Darrien's cheeks tinged red. "Mother! Must we discuss this?"

Tarya merely arched her brow. "You must secure both his heart and body, my dear. Only then will you ensure your place as the most important person in his life."

Darrien had never ventured far with Kaylen in terms of intimacy, but he lacked the courage to confess this truth to his mother. It was an unspoken weakness, a flaw he was unwilling to admit even to himself. Despite being together for five long years, and dating for two,—years filled with shared moments, whispered conversations, and public displays of devotion—Kaylen had never taken things beyond the simple gestures of holding hands and the occasional kiss. And even those kisses were nothing more than fleeting touches, a mere press of lips devoid of hunger or passion. If such lifeless contact could even be called a kiss.

It was baffling. Unsettling.

Darrien had listened to his omega friends whisper scandalous stories of their experiences with first-class alphas. He had heard, time and time again, how alphas were supposed to be ravenous creatures—demanding, insatiable, unable to resist the pull of their mates. Yet Kaylen, his Kaylen, was nothing of the sort. There was no overwhelming need in his gaze, no feverish desperation in his touch. Darrien found himself grasping for explanations, sifting through possibilities that made sense. Could there be something wrong with Kaylen? Was there an issue with him... physically? A dysfunction he was too ashamed to speak of?

No. That was impossible. That had to be impossible.

Darrien refused to accept the alternative—that Kaylen simply did not desire him. After all, he was the most breathtaking omega in the entire kingdom. It wasn't arrogance; it was fact. His beauty was unparalleled, his status untouchable. Alphas vied for even a sliver of his attention, circling him like wolves denied their prey. Kaylen was fortunate—blessed, even—to have him. And yet, he had not claimed him in the way that mattered most.

But in the grand scheme of things, did it truly matter?

They could always have children through artificial insemination, ensuring their lineage without requiring passion or intimacy. And if physical satisfaction became an issue… well, Darrien had no shortage of options. The kingdom was teeming with alphas eager to kneel at his feet, willing to serve his every whim. He had refrained from indulging thus far, holding onto the fantasy of giving himself to Kaylen first. Purity was a prized attribute in first-class omegas and alphas—expected, revered. But if Kaylen continued to keep him at a distance, Darrien knew he had alternatives.

Still, he would not allow himself to be cast aside. He had fought too hard, waited too long. He also believed that things would change after they bonded with each other. The bond would surely bring them even closer.

"Don't worry, Mother," Darrien said with unwavering conviction, "Kaylen will never leave me."

And he believed it with every fiber of his being. Kaylen had never so much as glanced at another omega or beta, regardless of their gender. His devotion had been steadfast, his loyalty absolute. There was no reason to believe that would ever change.

Tarya's lips curled into a pleased smile, her sharp eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

She had sacrificed too much, endured too many indignities, to allow Kaylen or the Morrison fortune to slip through her fingers. The road she had traveled to become Tarya Valmoor had been paved with suffering, treachery, and blood. It had not simply been strewn with thorns—it had led her through the darkest depths of the underworld itself. But she survived. She endured. And she would see her son ascend to his rightful place as the most revered omega in the kingdom, second only to the king himself.

Through Darrien, she would rule. She would become the great lady of House Valmoor and the esteemed in-law of House Morrison. And when that day came, all of high society would bow before her.

Power was not something given. It was something seized.