Lullaby

 Locked in the same room, omegas and alphas, by their very nature, almost always began to unconsciously release pheromones, their bodies drawn to each other, instincts taking over reason, pushing them to intertwine scents, touches, and movements that generated heat and blurred the boundaries between them. And when it came to pairs who had marked each other, this connection became almost painful and frighteningly unbreakable, their bodies and souls intertwined so deeply that any physical or emotional imbalance in one was immediately reflected in the other. It was said that marked partners felt not just each other's moods, but their very essence — pain, fear, fatigue, every slight fluctuation in life. Sometimes, when one fell ill, the other also began to mope for no apparent reason, and if one died, the pheromones of the remaining one literally exploded in a last, desperate burst, dissolving him as if nature itself did not allow him to survive the death of his other half.

That is why, lying all day in a luxurious, unfamiliar bed, spending hours eating perfectly prepared food and hardly ever leaving his room, Omega felt something foreign, sticky, growing from the depths of his body for the first time. His legs, which had been obedient until then, began to fill with heaviness, and every attempt to get out of bed ended with the world swimming before his eyes. His head ached as if someone were squeezing it from the inside, slowly and inexorably, and his stomach twisted into a tight knot, leaving behind a void similar to hunger, but far more terrifying, with cold spasms rising to his throat.

This state lasted for several days. And yet Omega himself had an appetite — he could eat the entire tray of food served to him and even ask for seconds, and yet the feeling of leaden fatigue did not go away. He slept for eight hours, but woke up with pain in his body, as if after hours of torture. And the worst thing was that his mood did not deteriorate: his lips might curve into a faint smile, but beneath his skin, in his veins, on the border between body and mind, there was a viscous, hopeless heaviness.

The doctor came to see him several times a day. At first, Omega, accustomed to his isolation, whispered to the guard through the crack in the door, afraid that he would be punished for any request. But when the beast of pain howled so loudly in his stomach that it seemed it would tear him apart from the inside, Omega forgot his shame and fear and could call the doctor several times a day, receiving only an impassive nod and silent obedience.

But each time, after carefully examining him, the doctor would only shake his head helplessly. He said that the body was completely healthy, that there were no signs of inflammation, infection, or intoxication. Nothing. And Omega, huddled in the pillows and barely holding back the tears welling up in his eyes, listened as the doctor left, leaving him alone with the pain that no one else could see.

One night, when a dull pain pulsed in his chest and the skin on his neck burned so badly that it felt like it was about to burst, Omega pressed his fingers to the mark, trying to suppress the tremor, and moaned softly. Something inside him told him that the source of it all was out there, somewhere among the stone halls and cold corridors of the castle. His breathing became erratic, his thoughts confused, images flashing before his eyes: Serak's rough fingers on his throat, his voice sliding into his ears with predatory caress. He remembered last week, remembered how Serak had pressed him against the balcony railing, how his drunken breath, smelling of strong alcohol, mingled with the heat of another man's body, how the sky was close by, ready to swallow him whole.

He should hate him. And he did. But in the dim candlelight, when he was alone with his own body, trembling with pain, his gut whispered, "You need him."

He trembled, clenching his teeth, but got up, staggered to the door, pressed his forehead against the cool wood, and said hoarsely, almost whispering, as if afraid that the lock would hear him and laugh:

"I want to see him. Please."

The guards exchanged glances. Their faces were stony, but after a moment, one of them nodded silently, the second turned and disappeared into the corridor. Omega, holding onto the wall, slowly slid down, knelt down, not taking his eyes off the door.

"Ask..." He swallowed, a lump in his throat. "Ask them to bring a pillow to his office... and... and food."

The one who remained said nothing. He just nodded slightly, indicating that he had heard him.

Omega pressed his forehead against his knees, unaware of the marble floor beneath him. His whole body was trembling slightly from the cold. Outside, it was sweltering hot.

Omega entered the office and stopped at the door, trying to collect his thoughts, but the longer he looked at Serak, sitting calmly at his desk and leafing through papers, the more he realised that all his arguments, all the confidence that had driven him here, had vanished. He wanted to make sure that Alpha was suffering, that his pain was real, but now he saw before him a calm man with a straight posture and clean hands, as if nothing had happened.

A scene from last week flashed through his mind, when Serak had pinned him against the balcony railing and whispered cruel words into his eyes, making him feel as if he were about to be thrown down, and then just as silently let him go and walked away.

"Sir, the pillow and food have been delivered," said the guard who had followed him in.

Serak looked up, but not at the omega.

"What's all this for?" he said quietly, looking at the servants who were quickly setting the food on the table by the window.

The omega tried to take a step, but his legs wouldn't obey him.

"I... it's me..." he began, but stopped short because Serak wasn't looking at him, as if he were a void.

"Did you bring them here?" Serak asked, without looking up from his papers.

"Yes, I..." Omega faltered, clenching his fingers. "I... felt bad. I thought... that you..."

"That I what?" Serak finally looked at him. "That I would die of pain and you would gain your freedom?"

Omega's heart sank. He remembered how a week ago that hand had squeezed his throat, how the voice had whispered that he was nothing but a thing.

"No, I... just wanted to make sure you were alive," he exhaled.

Serak chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"A pitiful sight," he said quietly. "You care about things you shouldn't care about."

Omega lowered his head, feeling his ears and cheeks burn.

"I... wanted to leave you a pillow... if you... were tired," he muttered, staring at the floor.

Serak stood up and approached him closely.

"After everything that's happened, you dare to talk about my tiredness?" His voice was even, but the words hurt even more.

Omega closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"Take all this away," Serak said to the guard. "And take this doll away before I remind him who he is."

Just as the guard took a step, unexpectedly for Omega himself, he said:

"I want you to eat with me."

Serak looked up from his papers and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He looked at Omega for a long time, as if checking that he had heard correctly.

"After a week of soft beds and plates full of food, you seem to have forgotten your place," he said, his voice tinged with mockery, but his eyes remained cold.

He stood up slowly, moved to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down to eat the meal that had just been brought by the servants. Omega froze, unable to take his eyes off his face, off his lips, quickly chewing pieces of meat and bread, as if the very process of eating brought the man almost pleasure.

A few minutes later, when the plates were empty and the servants were silently clearing the remains from the table, Serak leaned back in his chair and glanced at Omega in passing.

"Come here," he ordered calmly, even lazily.

Omega obediently approached, feeling his cheeks burn with shame and fear. He remembered every word, every touch of that scene on the balcony when he was almost thrown into the void. But now there was nothing he could do but obey.

Serak stood up and walked over to the sofa by the wall. He lay down on it, resting his head on the pillow he had brought, and, closing his eyes, said quietly:

"Everyone leave. Let him stay."

The servants instantly disappeared from the room, and silence fell. Omega stood there, not knowing what to do, until he heard Serak's quiet voice:

"Cover me with a blanket."

He picked up the heavy blanket, covered the man, carefully tucking in the edges, as if afraid of waking the beast. The light fabric trembled in his hands, but he managed. Omega thought it was time to leave, but as soon as he took a step back, Serak's hand grabbed his wrist like lightning.

He pulled him down, squeezing so tightly that Omega's nails dug into the floor. He fell to his knees next to the sofa, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that it seemed the whole castle could hear it.

"Don't you dare leave," Serak said in a tired but still commanding voice. "Tell me something. Tell me about yourself. About your worthless life. I want to fall asleep to the sound of your voice."

He couldn't disobey. And with trembling lips, without raising his eyes, Omega began to talk about completely meaningless things. He couldn't remember anything interesting about his life. He didn't know what Alpha wanted to hear, who was clearly well-read and had read stories more interesting than the entire life of Omega and everyone he had ever met. All he could talk about were his meaningless five-minute walks, how he loved to watch birds and beetles. He described every bug he had seen up close. Their different colours, the iridescence of their skin, and how he tried to dig holes for them, making homes for them. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about birds, because they were too high up, and Omega only knew that each bird had a different body and wing length.

Serak didn't say a word. His hand still held Omega's wrist, and only his breathing became more even, but not quieter. He listened without interrupting, and Omega continued until the words ran out and his throat dried up with fear.

And when the room became completely silent, Serak gently pulled his hand and whispered:

"All right. Your worthless life is at least good enough to put me to sleep."

He let go of Omega, who slowly moved away, still kneeling, not daring to stand up. Inside, a strange emptiness pulsated. And it was so scary that he wanted to scream.