The Price of Perfection

Soren's reflection stared back at him on the silver spoon he was holding, perfect as always. Too perfect.

His pale blue eyes glimmered under the golden light of the chandelier, framed by silver-white hair that fell in soft waves over his shoulders. His parents always said his beauty was a gift, something the gods gave to the family for their devotion. But for Soren, it felt more like a curse.

"Do you have any idea what a fortune you'll fetch, Soren?" his mother said, her tone brimming with pride. She sat at the head of the dinner table, her sharp features glowing with satisfaction as if Soren's existence alone was her greatest achievement.

He didn't respond. He never did. It wasn't worth the effort.

To his left, his eldest brother, Idris, a towering Alpha, smirked as he carved into his steak. "Mother's right. With a face like that, you could probably unite two nations."

"And what if the buyer isn't to our liking?" said Livia, the Beta sibling. Her tone was light, but there was always something sharp in her words. "We can't let just anyone have him, can we?"

"No, of course not." Their father spoke for the first time that evening. "Which is why you'll be ready by noon tomorrow, Soren. An Alpha will be stopping by, one with a promising reputation. Be dressed appropriately and on your best behavior."

Soren's spoon clattered onto his plate. His chest tightened, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. Tomorrow? He barely had time to prepare. Not that it mattered. These visits were all the same.

"Yes, Father," he said quietly. It was always easier to obey.

That night, the mansion was eerily quiet. Soren tiptoed past his siblings' rooms, holding his breath as he passed his father's study.

When he finally reached the side door, he slipped out into the night.

"Cassius!" Soren hissed as he reached their meeting spot—a small, secluded clearing by the edge of the woods.

The Beta looked up from the journal in his hands, his eyes brightening when he saw Soren. "You're late."

"I had to wait until everyone was asleep," Soren said, sitting down on the grass beside him.

Cassius smirked. "Someday, you're going to get caught."

"Someday," Soren leaned back against the tree trunk. "But not tonight."

Cassius flipped open the journal, his tone becoming serious. "Alright, let's see how much you remember. Read this."

Soren took the journal, running his fingers over the words. Cassius had been teaching him to read and write in secret for years, and though Soren had improved, he still felt a thrill of pride when he recognized the words.

He read them aloud softly.

Cassius smiled. "Good. Now this one."

They spent the next hour going over lessons, with Cassius quizzing him on vocabulary and testing his combat knowledge. Soren wasn't a natural fighter, but he had learned the basics of defending himself thanks to Cassius' patience. Although Kieran had a lot to work on, he had become quite deadly with a knife.

After a while, they fell silent, gazing at the stars.

"Do you think things will ever change?" Soren asked quietly.

Cassius glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"For Omegas," Soren said. "Do you think we'll ever… stop being oppressed?"

Cassius' expression darkened. "The war won't last forever. When it ends, things might go back to how they were before. Omegas used to have freedom, you know. They could choose who they loved, what they wanted to do with their lives…"

"Before my time," Soren said bitterly.

"You just have to survive until then," Cassius said firmly. 

Soren didn't reply. He wasn't sure he could survive in a world that saw him as nothing more than an object.

_______

Soren slipped back through the side door just as the sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn. His heart raced as he crept through the halls, every creak of the floorboards making him flinch. Just a little farther. Almost there.

"You're up early, Soren."

The deep voice stopped him in his tracks. Soren turned to see his father standing in the doorway of the study.

"I... couldn't sleep," Soren stammered, avoiding his father's piercing gaze.

His father stepped closer. "You know what today is. Discipline and obedience, Soren. Be a good omega. Do not embarrass us."

"Yes, Father," Soren bowed his head.

By noon, Soren was standing in the grand hall, dressed in the finest clothes he had. The soft fabric clung to him uncomfortably, emphasizing his slim frame and delicate features.

A knock echoed through the room, and the doors swung open to reveal a woman unlike anyone Soren had ever seen.

She was old, with silver wooly hair pulled tightly back into a bun. But what caught Soren's attention was the uniform she wore, a crisp, black military coat adorned with medals. She walked with a commanding presence, her cane tapping sharply against the marble floor.

Soren's mother stepped forward, beaming. "Welcome, Madam Dain. It's an honor to have you here."

The old woman waved a hand dismissively. "Enough with the pleasantries. Let me see him."

Soren's mother gestured for him to step forward, and he obeyed, his heart pounding. The woman's sharp eyes scanned him from head to toe.

"Beautiful," she said, nodding in approval.

Soren studied the woman and spoke up nervously. "Excuse me, ma'am, but... are you fighting in the war?"

The old woman raised an eyebrow before letting out a low chuckle. "Fighting? No, child. I'm far too old for that. I help plan the strategies while real men work the field."

"Then... why are you dressed like that?" Soren asked hesitantly.

Her smile widened, and there was a glint of something dangerous in her eyes. "I'm surrounded by soldiers, have to look the part, you'll see when we get there."

Soren's stomach twisted. "Where?"

"To the war camp," she said casually. "Where you'll meet your Alpha"

Soren froze. The blood drained from his face as her words sank in.

"My... Alpha?" he whispered.

The old woman nodded. "You're a perfect fit for him. His name is Kieran Dain, I'm sure you've heard of him. You should feel honoured."

Soren's heart pounded in his chest, fear creeping up his spine. Kieran Dain. The rumours about him were always followed by terror. A man known for his ruthlessness on the battlefield, his cold, calculated strategies, and his complete lack of mercy.

But what was worse is that Soren would be sent to a war camp, a place too dangerous for a man like him. "I... I can't go to a war camp," Soren's voice trembled.

His father stepped forward with a hard expression. "You don't have a choice. Madam Dain has already paid for you."

Soren's heart raced as two soldiers stepped forward, their hands reaching for him.

He stumbled back, his wide eyes darting to his parents.

"No! Please, don't make me go to a war camp!" He cried out

His father's expression remained cold, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His mother shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze entirely.

"Mother, please!" Tears spilled down his cheeks. "You can't do this! I've done everything you've ever asked. Please don't send me there!"

His mother's lips parted as if she might say something, but she quickly turned away.

"Enough, boy," Madam Dain said sharply. "You're only making this harder on yourself."

"No! You don't understand!" Soren shouted, struggling against the soldiers as they grabbed his arms. "I'll die there! I don't want to die!"

His cries filled the air. He turned to his father, his voice breaking. "Father, please, I'm begging you! Don't let them take me!"

His father's jaw tightened, but he didn't move.

The soldiers began to drag Soren toward the waiting carriage. He thrashed violently, his heels scraping against the dirt as he fought against their grip. "No!

Let me go! Please, don't take me!"

"Soren, stop this nonsense," his father barked. "You have a duty to this family. You'll obey, like you always have."

"Duty?" Soren spat, his tear-streaked face twisting with anguish. "Is that all I am to you? A tool to sell? I'm your son!"

But his father said nothing.

As the soldiers hoisted Soren into the carriage, he clung to the doorframe, his knuckles white with effort. His gaze darted around wildly, searching for an escape, for someone—anyone—to save him.

Then he saw Cassius.

His friend stood at the edge of the forest, half-hidden behind the trees. His eyes were wide, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Cassius!" Soren screamed. "Help me, please!"

But Cassius didn't move. He mouthed something, but all Soren could make out was save. 

Soren's screams echoed in the distance as the carriage began to move, the wheels creaking loudly against the gravel. He pounded on the door, his voice hoarse with desperation.

"Please!"

The town grew smaller behind them, the familiar streets fading into the horizon. And with them, Soren's hope.