CHAPTER THREE

The capital city of Veridian emerged from the morning mist like something from a dark fairy tale. Elian stared through the wagon's small window, taking in the imposing stone walls that surrounded the city, each tower topped with black banners bearing the king's wolf-and-thorn emblem.

Five miserable days of travel had left him exhausted and filthy. The suppression cuffs had rubbed his wrists raw, and his last sachet of scent-blockers had failed the previous night. Now, his true omega scent was detectable a fact that hadn't escaped Commander Thorne's notice.

"We're here," the commander announced, opening the wagon door. "Welcome to Blackthorn City."

Elian squinted in the sudden brightness. The wagon had stopped in a rear courtyard, away from the main gates and public eyes. Smart. The king clearly didn't want word spreading about a male omega being brought to the palace.

"Where are the others from my village?" Elian asked as he was pulled from the wagon.

"Being processed at the Central Hold," Thorne replied. "Your path leads elsewhere."

Guards surrounded Elian as they led him through a concealed side entrance, down winding corridors of black stone. Servants flattened themselves against walls as they passed, eyes downcast but curiosity evident in their quick glances.

Elian's heart raced as they approached a set of ornate double doors. Two guards in elite black armor stood at attention, their eyes widening slightly as they caught his scent.

"The king awaits," one said, opening the doors.

Thorne placed a firm hand on Elian's shoulder. "Remember your place," he warned quietly. "King Darius doesn't tolerate disrespect, especially from your kind."

Before Elian could respond, he was pushed into a vast chamber. Unlike the dark corridors, this room was flooded with light from tall windows that overlooked the city. At its center stood a massive desk of polished ebony, covered with maps and scrolls.

And behind it stood the king.

Darius Blackthorn was younger than Elian had expected perhaps thirty but power radiated from him like heat from fire. Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in black with minimal adornment save for the silver crown that sat upon his dark hair. His face might have been handsome if not for the coldness in his eyes and the scar that ran from his right temple to his jaw.

Those eyes fixed on Elian now, narrowing slightly as the king inhaled, undoubtedly catching Elian's omega scent.

"Leave us," Darius commanded, his voice deep and firm.

Commander Thorne bowed. "Your Majesty, the prisoner is..."

"I'm aware of what he is," the king cut him off. "Leave. All of you."

The guards hesitated only a moment before filing out. Thorne was the last to leave, giving Elian a warning look before closing the doors.

Silence stretched between them as the king studied Elian with unsettling intensity. Elian forced himself to meet that gaze despite every omega instinct screaming at him to show submission to the powerful alpha before him.

"You're not what I expected," Darius finally said, circling his desk to approach Elian. "You're the fourth silver-eyed person we've found in the past year."

"What happened to the others?" Elian asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

A slight smile touched the king's lips. "Direct. Good. I despise cowering." He stepped closer, close enough that Elian could smell his alpha scent pine and smoke with something metallic beneath. "The others were useless to me. Their eyes were silver, but their blood lacked what I need."

"And what exactly do you need, Your Majesty?" Elian kept his tone neutral despite the fear coursing through him.

"Your bloodline carries something unique." Darius reached out suddenly, tilting Elian's chin up with surprising gentleness. "The Kaine family magic. Old power. Omega power."

Elian jerked his head away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The king laughed, a sound without warmth. "Lie to me again, and I'll have one of your village friends executed. That boy you called for Micah, was it? Let's start with him."

Elian's blood ran cold. "Leave them out of this. They know nothing."

"Then cooperate." Darius walked to a side table and poured two glasses of wine, offering one to Elian, who made no move to take it with his bound hands. The king noticed and frowned at the suppression cuffs.

"Those won't be necessary. Not here." He produced a small key and unlocked the cuffs.

Elian fought the urge to rub his raw wrists, unwilling to show weakness. The sudden return of his connection to his magic was like air after nearly drowning, but he carefully kept his expression neutral.

"Better?" Darius asked, again offering the wine.

Elian accepted it this time but didn't drink. "Why am I here?"

The king moved to the windows, looking out over his city. For a moment, his shoulders seemed to carry an invisible weight. "What do you know of the Blackthorn Curse?"

"Children's stories," Elian replied cautiously. "That your family is cursed to die young, in pain. That each king suffers more than the last."

Darius turned, and for an instant, Elian glimpsed something vulnerable in the ruthless king's expression. "Not stories. Truth. And you, Elian Kaine, carry the blood of the one who cursed us."

Elian's mind raced back to his grandmother's whispered histories tales of an ancestor with great power who had stood against a tyrant king. Tales he'd always assumed were exaggerated family legends.

"Your ancestor, Lyra Kaine, was a powerful omega sorceress," Darius continued. "When my ancestor tried to force her into a bond, she cursed our bloodline. Each Blackthorn king since has died before their fortieth year, in increasing agony."

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a strange pattern of black veins spreading up his arm, almost like poison. "The curse progresses with each full moon. I have perhaps a year left before it reaches my heart."

Despite himself, Elian felt a pang of sympathy. "What does this have to do with me?"

"The curse can only be undone by a blood descendant of the one who cast it." Darius's eyes bored into Elian's. "Your silver eyes mark you as direct descent. Your omega status suggests you might have inherited her power."

"And if I can't undo it? Or won't?"

Darius smiled thinly. "Then your friends die, your village burns, and I find another Kaine. I understand your family was once quite large."

The threat hung in the air between them. Elian's mind whirled with possibilities, none of them good. His magic was strong, yes, but untrained. His grandmother had begun teaching him healing arts, but she'd been taken before she could teach him the deeper magics of their bloodline.

"I don't even know how to begin breaking such a curse," Elian admitted, setting down the untouched wine. "My knowledge is limited to basic healing."

Something flickered in Darius's eyes disappointment, frustration, perhaps even fear. "Then you'll learn. I've gathered every text mentioning the Kaine bloodline, every record of omega magic that survived the Purge."

"The Purge your family ordered," Elian said bitterly.

"My grandfather's doing, not mine." Darius waved a dismissive hand. "I'm practical. If omega magic can save my life, I'll embrace it."

Elian laughed without humor. "How generous."

The king moved with alpha speed, suddenly too close, his presence overwhelming. "Mock me if you wish, but understand this your fate is tied to mine now. Help me break this curse, and I'll spare your village, grant your friends freedom, even restore some rights to omegas. Fail me..." His hand closed around Elian's throat, not squeezing but demonstrating how easily he could. "And everything you care about dies with me."

Their faces were inches apart, and something strange passed between them a current of energy that made Elian's skin tingle. Darius seemed to feel it too, his eyes widening slightly before he released Elian and stepped back.

"You'll have quarters in the east wing," he said, his voice rougher than before. "Guards will escort you, but you'll be treated as a guest, not a prisoner provided you cooperate."

"And my friends?"

"Will remain unharmed while you work. Succeed, and they go free."

It wasn't a choice, not really. Elian nodded once, sharply. "I'll try. But I need proper materials, access to any records of my family's magic, and no interference."

"Granted." Darius studied him with renewed interest. "You surprise me, Elian Kaine. Most omegas wouldn't dare make demands."

"I'm not most omegas," Elian replied evenly. "And you're running out of time, Your Majesty."

The king smiled then, a genuine expression that transformed his face, making him look younger, almost handsome. "Indeed I am. We begin tomorrow at dawn."

As guards entered to escort Elian to his new quarters, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just made a deal with a demon one with striking eyes and a curse eating him from the inside out.