THE OMEGA'S FATE

Kael’s second day as Prince Alaric’s personal assistant dawned with a knot of anxiety tighter

than the laces of his new boots. The boots, a gift from Elara to replace his worn-out servant’s

shoes, felt like lead weights anchoring him to the ground. Everything felt too new, too grand,

too… exposed.

He’d barely slept, the Prince’s face, framed by the moon, replaying in his mind like a forbidden

melody. The memory of Alaric calling his name sent shivers down his spine, a phantom touch

more intoxicating than any drug.

He arrived outside the Prince’s antechamber, a massive oak door etched with the royal crest,

precisely five minutes early. He adjusted his tunic, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, and

swallowed hard. He was about to knock when he heard voices and approaching footsteps, and

for some reason, Kael his behind the heart large piller.

"He's utterly unsuitable, Mother. A commoner plucked from the kitchens? Alaric is the Crown

Prince, not a charity case." That was Prince Casian, Alaric's younger brother, his voice dripping

with honeyed venom.

Kael froze, his hand hovering in mid-air. He shouldn't be eavesdropping, but his feet felt rooted

to the spot.

"I agree, Casian. The boy is… insignificant. Alaric is simply going through a phase. This whim

will pass. Once he finds a suitable mate, this… Kael will be forgotten. I believe his mate wouldn't

let him keep peasants around him." That was the Luna, her voice cool and dismissive, laced

with an undercurrent of steel.

Kael's heart plummeted. He knew he was out of his depth, a fish gasping for air in a royal pond,

but hearing it confirmed so bluntly was like a punch to the gut.

"He needs guidance, Mother. Alaric always was… sentimental. Perhaps a gentle reminder of his

duties and expectations?" Casian's voice suggested something vaguely sinister, and Kael felt a

prickle of unease.

"Leave it to me, Casian. Alaric understands his responsibilities. He will choose wisely. He

always does." Luna's tone brooked no argument.

“You suddenly want him to find a mate so bad? I thought you adored me.” Casian said

surprising Kael. He doesn't want his own brother to find a mate?

“Of course, I adore you, my capable Alpha son. He certainly won't be doing that anytime soon

and the moment you get an heir, there'd be no chances of him being your father's successor

and you, my dear, would be the Alpha King instead of him.”

“Now that's my mother speaking.”

Kael was left dumbfounded. He can't believe his ears. It seems Prince Alaric's mother, the Luna,

doesn't like Prince Alaric very much. She clearly has a favorite and it's Prince Casian.

Kael, finally breaking free from his paralysis as they walked by, far away enough to not notice

him. He rapped lightly on the door.

"Come in," Alaric's deep voice rumbled, and Kael pushed the door open, forcing a polite smile.

Alaric was seated at a large desk cluttered with documents, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He looked up, his eyes, the colour of a stormy sea, meeting Kael’s. The brief flicker of warmth in

his gaze sent a jolt through Kael, quickly followed by a fresh wave of anxiety.

"Good morning, Kael. Are those reports on the Northern territories compiled yet?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Kael replied, his voice a little too high-pitched for his liking. He placed the

neatly stacked documents on the desk, careful not to meet Alaric's eyes. "I also brewed you

some tea. I believe you prefer chamomile in the mornings?"

Alaric raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing around his lips. "Very attentive, Kael.

Thank you."

The day crawled by. Kael navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, running errands,

delivering messages, and trying to anticipate Alaric's needs. He felt like a puppet dancing on

strings, constantly aware of the scrutinizing eyes of the other courtiers. He was an outsider, a

pretender, and everyone knew it.

He kept replaying the conversation he had overheard, the Luna's dismissive words echoing in

his mind. Insignificant. Alaric is simply going through a phase. He was a fool to even entertain

the slightest hope. Alaric was a Prince, destined for greatness, and he was… Kael, a nobody

with a secret that could shatter his life.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the palace gardens, Kael found himself

summoned to the Luna's private chambers. His stomach clenched.

He bowed deeply before her, his heart pounding against his ribs. "You summoned me, Your

Majesty?"

The Luna sat on a plush velvet chaise lounge, her expression cool and unreadable. Casian

stood beside her, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “What is your name?”

“Keal. Your Majesty.”

"Kael," the Luna said, her voice sharp. "I understand you are now assisting my son, Alaric."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Kael kept his gaze fixed on the patterned rug at her feet.

"You seem… ambitious for a kitchen servant."

Kael’s breath hitched. “I… I only wish to serve the Prince to the best of my ability, Your Majesty.”

Casian chuckled softly. “Indeed. Serving the Prince in what capacity, exactly?”

The implication hung heavy in the air. Kael felt a flush creep up his neck.

"I am merely performing the duties assigned to me, Your Highness," he stammered.

"See that you remember your place, Kael," the Luna warned, her eyes narrowed. "Alaric has

certain responsibilities, expectations he must fulfill. Do not presume to… distract him from

them."

Before Kael could respond, Alaric strode into the room, his expression thunderous.

"Mother, Casian," he greeted them stiffly. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We were merely offering the boy some… guidance, Alaric," the Luna said smoothly.

Alaric's gaze flicked to Kael, his jaw tightening. "Kael is under my protection. He requires no

'guidance' from anyone but me." He stepped forward, placing a protective hand on Kael's

shoulder.

"Alaric, really," the Luna sighed, her voice laced with exasperation. "Must you be so… dramatic?

We were simply concerned."

“Concerned about what, Mother?" Alaric’s voice was dangerously low.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Casian, sensing the shift in the

wind, discreetly retreated towards the door.

"I believe I have some pressing matters to attend to," he said, offering a shallow bow. "Good

evening."

As Casian disappeared, the Luna rose from her chaise lounge, her eyes fixed on Alaric.

"Very well, Alaric," she said, her voice regaining its icy edge. "You are the Crowned Prince. You

will do as you see fit. But do not say I didn't warn you."

She swept past them, her silken robes whispering against the floor. Alaric watched her go, his

expression unreadable.

"Are you alright, Kael?" he asked, turning to Kael, his voice softer now.

"Yes, Your Highness," Kael replied, his voice barely a whisper. He was still reeling from the

encounter, the Luna's words echoing in his mind.

"Good. Come. I need to review those trade agreements before dinner." Alaric steered him

towards the door.

As they were about to leave, a servant entered, carrying a large bowl filled with steaming water.

“Your Majesty, I have prepared your pedicure water,” the servant announced to the Luna,

oblivious to the fact she had already left.

Alaric frowned. “My mother is no longer here. Just… leave it.”

The servant placed the bowl on a small table near the door and scurried away.

Alaric sighed, rubbing his temples. “The day is not ending.”

Just then, Casian reappeared, a malicious glint in his eyes.

"Oh, Alaric, Mother asked me to relay a message," he said, his voice saccharine sweet. "She

said… ensure the boy understands his place."

Before Alaric could react, Casian grabbed the bowl of hot water and hurled it towards Kael.

"Casian!" Alaric roared, lunging forward to block Kael for the attack.

However, Kael reacted faster. Acting on pure instinct, he threw himself in front of Alaric,

shielding him from the scalding water. The water splashed across his back, his shoulders, his

face. It stung, it burned, but he barely registered the pain. He only knew he had to protect Alaric.

Casian hissed and walked out.

Then, the pain became secondary. As the warm water soaked through his tunic, washing away

the carefully applied layers of scent blocker, a wave of primal fear washed over him.

His scent. It was gone.

The air crackled with a new energy, a potent blend of cinnamon and earth and something else,

something… sweet, intoxicatingly sweet.

Alaric froze, his pupils dilating. He inhaled sharply, the scent flooding his senses, overwhelming

him. His wolf roared in his head, a single, earth-shattering word: Mate.

Kael heard it too. A faint echo of the same word resonated within him, a dormant instinct

awakening with a terrifying force. Mate.

He looked up at Alaric, his eyes wide with terror. The Prince’s expression was unreadable, a

mask of shock and… something else, something that made his heart pound in his chest.

Alaric's gaze locked onto his, and Kael saw the truth reflected in those stormy eyes. He knew.

The Prince knew his secret. The impossible had happened.

He was a male Omega, and the Alpha Prince was his mate.