THE SILENCE THAT CAME AFTER

EVREN

Evren woke up to the smell of clean linen, a fresh breeze in the air and something fragrant he didn't recognise.

For a long moment, the omega remained still, not opening his eyes as he catalogued the unfamiliar softness beneath and the comfort of a proper blanket he could feel wrapped around him.

It felt nothing like the threadbare, worn-out blanket Evren was used to in StoneRidge. The absence of the cold kitchen floor against his bones and broken ribs had Evren squeezing his closed eyes as he tried to remember where he was.

There was one thing that seemed to be a constant, and that was the ache in his body. There was a deep, bone-level exhaustion that pressed Evren into the mattress that he couldn’t immediately explain.

The ache was unlike the usual pain he felt after getting a beating from Dante. The fact that he was currently sleeping on a mattress raised alarm bells in Evren’s head. Had he ended up in Alpha Felix’s bed?

His eyes flew open at that thought, and he squinted, almost shutting them at the sight of the light in the room. When he finally opened his eyes again, the light in the room felt wrong. It was soft, filtered through gauzy curtains, and that was when he realised it was the late afternoon sun

The room was nothing like anything Evren had known. High ceilings, a hearth carved with wolves mid-howl; there was a wardrobe large enough to swallow the hut he'd grown up in.

As he looked around, Evren realised he was alone.

He frowned, sitting up too fast, and the room tilted. Evren’s hand flew to his mouth as his stomach churned for a split second. Another movement caused pain to shoot up his spine from his lower half, and Evren folded into himself.

The sudden pain seemed to be the spark his brain needed as the last event Evren remembered played through his head.

This wasn’t StoneRidge. No. Another glance around the room and the realisation caught up with him. He was in the palace—somewhere in the palace.

He remembered the carriage, the collector presenting him to the Lycan Crown. Fractured memories filed in. He remembered the throne room, the brutality that was his first time. And then the room. Evren remembered being carried to a room. He looked at the sheets to see if they were familiar, but he really couldn’t remember much.

How long ago was it?

He couldn’t tell exactly.

He didn't know how long, didn’t know how long he’d slept for either or how long his forced heat lasted. And now all he had was a blank stretch of white where days should have been.

He pushed the blankets back and found himself dressed in soft and unfamiliar sleep clothes finer than anything he'd owned, and the sight of them undid something in his chest.

Someone had dressed him.

Evren wondered if it was the king, but he shook his head against that thought. It couldn’t be; the king wouldn’t have cared enough to clean up a slave omega.

It had to have been someone else, perhaps one of the palace maids. Evren didn’t know how to feel about someone else seeing him used, undone and unconscious.

Evren pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them as he stared at the tray on the table near the window. There was bread on the tray, a bowl of stewed meat, a platter of cut fruit and a pitcher of water.

Evren stared at it from the bed for a long time, wondering if he needed to wait for permission to eat it or if he was supposed to eat the food without permission. Hunger won out over his confusion in the end, and he reached for the tray.

He listened for sounds of the king as he ate slowly, wondering if this was some type of test that he had already failed. When the door pushed open and a servant came in, Evren jolted in fright.

The servant didn’t speak much beyond asking if he needed anything, if he was in pain and if he needed a bath drawn.

Evren shook his head to every question, wondering if those questions were simply another test, but eventually curiosity won.

“How long have I been…” Evren asked in a small voice. He wasn’t sure of the direction of his own question.

“His Majesty was in, with you for a week,” she replied.

Evren blinked. “With me for a week?” He croaked.

“Your heat lasted for a week, omega.”

“How…how long have I been asleep?” He dared to ask?

“Three days,”she said, and then she was gone before he could ask anything else, before he could ask the question actually clawing at his throat.

Where is he?

Where was the King?