O1uwapelumi

Synopsis:
In a world where Alphas rule with absolute power, Alpha Caidren Thorne stands above them all—a warlord feared for his cruelty, a ruler whose hands are stained with the blood of both enemies and kin. His lands are harsh, his rule even harsher, and his name alone is enough to strike terror into the hearts of those who hear it.

But there is a darker truth hidden beneath his legend.

Every Omega sent to him has perished.

No one knows why. No one dares to ask. Some whisper that his presence alone is enough to snuff out their fragile lives, that no Omega can withstand his brutality. Others say that he is cursed, doomed to be alone forever. But Caidren does not care. He has never let anyone close—not a mate, not a lover, not even his own people. His heart is stone, and his hands are weapons.

When the noble House Velmire is forced to offer him an Omega, they do not send their treasured daughter. Instead, they send Elias—an adopted outcast, a boy without a place in their world. Elias has spent his life alone, unwanted, and now, he is being sent to a fate worse than death.

And when he arrives at the Bloodfang Stronghold, he is welcomed by a scene of horror.

A man clothed in black can be seen writhing in agony. Blood soaking the ground. And standing above it all, delivering judgment with cold precision, is Alpha Caidren.

Elias’ fear takes root instantly. This man is no savior. He is death itself.

Caidren barely acknowledges him, dismissing him with a single glance. Another Omega. Another life that will soon disappear.

But Elias does not die.

Days pass. Then weeks. And for the first time, an Omega survives.

Elias is not weak. He is not fragile. He is not like the others. And against every instinct, every warning, Caidren begins to take notice.

What starts as indifference turns to fascination. What was once just another burden soon becomes something the Alpha refuses to let go of.

For the first time in his life, Caidren is afraid—not of war, not of death, but of the one thing he never thought he could have.

And when enemies rise and threaten to take Elias away, Caidren will burn the world to keep his Omega safe.

scarred by the Alpher, claimed by his touch.

The candlelight flickered against the stone walls of Caidren's chambers, throwing restless shadows that refused to settle. He stood at the map table, fingers tracing the worn edges of the stronghold's territory. Beyond the walls, the world was shifting—borders tested, alliances fraying. There was no room for weakness.

His gaze flickered to the goblet of untouched wine beside him, then to the door. The silence pressed in. He could still hear the phantom echo of Aedric's words.

"He was the first thing you went for."

Caidren exhaled sharply, forcing his shoulders to loosen. This was not concern. Not guilt. It was simply the aftershock of battle—an instinct too deep to ignore.

And yet, when he finally allowed himself to move, it wasn't to the barracks. Nor the training yards. Nor the war room.

The hallway was dimly lit, torches burning low against the damp chill. No guards stood watch. They didn't need to—Elias had nowhere to run.

Caidren stopped outside the door. He could hear nothing from within.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, fingers curling and uncurling at his side. Then, before he could think better of it, he pushed the door open.

The room was sparse. A single cot, a table, a chair. Elias sat on the edge of the bed, posture tense despite his stillness. His hands were clasped in his lap, his gaze trained on some unseen point in the distance.

He looked up when Caidren entered.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Elias' face was unreadable—calm in a way that was almost unnatural. But Caidren had learned to recognize the quiet defiance beneath it. The same defiance that had kept him standing when others would have broken.

"He's been quiet. More than usual."

Caidren crossed the room, stopping just short of Elias' space. He had no reason to be here. Nothing to say.

Elias blinked, slow. "So it would seem."

His voice was hoarse, the words carefully measured. Caidren ignored the way his stomach tightened at the sound.

He folded his arms. "You didn't ask for a healer."

A faint twitch of Elias' fingers. "I didn't think it would matter."

A pause. Then Elias looked at him, really looked at him, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes.

It wasn't an accusation. Not quite.

Caidren clenched his jaw. "I was busy."

There was something in his voice—something almost too quiet to name. Not bitterness. Not anger. Just… acceptance.

Hated the way it sat between them, unspoken and undeniable.

Then why did it feel like something had shifted? Like something had been lost?

He exhaled sharply, turning toward the door. "Rest, Elias. You'll need your strength."

Caidren hesitated. He didn't know.

And that unsettled him more than anything else.

He left without another word, the door closing between them like a blade.

chapter 32: I did what I needed to do