A Price Already Paid

Aziel’s POV

I was halfway through binding the wound at my side when the knock came.

Not hesitant.

Not polite.

Deliberate.

I didn’t answer immediately. I tightened the cloth instead, ignoring the sharp pull of pain that followed. Whoever was on the other side would wait.

The knock came again.

More insistent this time.

I exhaled slowly, then straightened and walked to the door. When I opened it, Soren stood there, already watching me like he expected resistance.

“You’re needed,” he said.

“By who?”

A brief pause.

“Magnus.”

That was unexpected.

Not entirely.

But sooner than it should have been.

I studied Soren for a moment, searching for anything else in his expression. There was something there, faint but noticeable, something closer to caution than concern.

“He doesn’t summon people like this,” Soren added.

“Then I should feel honored.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

I stepped past him before he could say anything else. If Magnus wanted to see me, there was no reason to delay. Waiting would only give them time to prepare whatever came next.

We walked in silence.

The path this time was different from the one Ragnar had taken me through the night before. These corridors were less used, quieter, the stone darker and colder beneath the torchlight. The magic here felt heavier too, less controlled, as if it had been layered over time without being refined.

It pressed faintly against my senses.

Not enough to stop me.

Enough to notice.

Soren glanced at me once as we walked. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

“I can feel everything in this place,” I said.

“That’s not normal.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He didn’t look reassured by that.

We stopped before a set of tall doors reinforced with iron. Unlike the last room, there was nothing intricate about these. No decorative carvings. No visible magic woven into the surface.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Soren didn’t open them.

Instead, he stepped aside.

“He’s inside.”

Of course he was.

I didn’t wait.

I pushed the doors open and stepped in.

The room was smaller than I expected.

Not a throne room.

Not even a council chamber.

It looked more like a war room, though even that felt too simple. A long table stretched across the center, covered in maps, sealed scrolls, and markings that had been drawn and redrawn too many times to count. The walls were bare stone, unadorned, and the only light came from a few low-burning torches.

Magnus stood at the far end.

Alone.

He didn’t turn when I entered.

That was intentional.

I closed the door behind me.

Let the silence settle.

Then walked forward.

Not rushing.

Not hesitating.

Just steady.

“You came quickly,” he said.

“I was told not to keep you waiting.”

“You weren’t told that.”

“No,” I admitted. “But it seemed obvious.”

That got his attention.

He turned then.

Slowly.

His gaze landed on me immediately, sharp and focused in a way that hadn’t changed since yesterday. If anything, it had deepened.

He was still studying me.

Still trying to understand something that didn’t make sense to him.

Good.

I stopped a few steps away from the table.

“You wanted to see me.”

“I wanted to confirm something.”

“About me?”

“Yes.”

Direct.

At least he didn’t pretend otherwise.

I held his gaze. “And have you?”

“Not yet.”

Silence followed.

Not empty.

Measured.

He stepped around the table, closing part of the distance between us, though not enough to invade my space. His movements were controlled, deliberate, like someone who didn’t waste effort on anything unnecessary.

“You don’t behave like an Omega,” he said.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“And yet, you are one.”

“That depends on who you ask.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Biology doesn’t change based on opinion.”

“No,” I said. “But behavior does.”

He studied me for a moment longer.

Then—

“I called for someone.”

That was new.

I didn’t react immediately.

“Someone who knows this body better than you do.”

There it was.

Interesting.

I tilted my head slightly. “That’s a long list.”

“Not this one.”

He moved past me toward the door.

Didn’t look back.

“Come in.”

The door opened almost immediately.

Too fast.

Whoever had been waiting hadn’t just arrived.

They had been standing there.

Listening.

Watching.

Prepared.

A woman stepped inside.

The moment I saw her, something in my chest tightened.

Not emotion.

Recognition.

Faint.

Unwanted.

Not mine.

Lior’s.

It came in fragments.

Cold eyes.

Sharp words.

A presence that had never been kind.

Then it was gone.

Leaving behind clarity.

Stepmother.

She was dressed richly, though not in a way that suggested power of her own. It was the kind of elegance borrowed from proximity, not earned. Her posture was straight, her chin slightly lifted, but the moment her eyes landed on Magnus, something shifted.

Respect.

Fear.

Both.

Then she looked at me.

And everything changed.

Confusion came first.

Then disbelief.

Then something darker.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

I just watched her watch me.

Magnus returned to his position near the table.

“This is him,” he said.

Not an introduction.

A statement.

The woman frowned slightly. “This is… the prince?”

“You knew him differently?”

Her gaze snapped back to me.

Sharper now.

More focused.

“He was weaker,” she said slowly. “Quieter.”

“More obedient,” Magnus added.

“Yes.”

Her attention stayed on me, searching, comparing what she remembered to what stood in front of her now.

“That’s not what I see.”

“No,” Magnus said. “It isn’t.”

Silence stretched.

I could feel her trying to understand it.

Trying to place me back into the version of Lior she knew.

It wouldn’t work.

Good.

She stepped closer.

Carefully.

As if approaching something that might react unpredictably.

“Lior,” she said.

The name sounded wrong.

Distant.

Not mine.

I said nothing.

Her brows drew together slightly.

“You recognize me.”

It wasn’t a question.

I tilted my head.

“I recognize what you are.”

That landed.

Her expression hardened.

“I raised you.”

“No,” I said calmly. “You managed me.”

Magnus didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t interfere.

He was watching this.

Measuring it.

She took another step closer.

“You were never like this.”

“I was dying.”

A pause.

“That tends to change people.”

Her lips pressed together.

There was something calculating in her eyes now.

Less confusion.

More interest.

Dangerous.

“You were afraid,” she said. “Of everything. Of everyone.”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s obvious.”

She circled slightly, studying me from a different angle.

Just like Lyrielle had.

Just like Magnus had.

Everyone here observed before they acted.

I filed that away.

“You used to lower your head when you spoke to me,” she continued.

I met her gaze.

“I learned better.”

Her eyes flickered.

Just for a second.

Something like irritation.

Or maybe unease.

Magnus spoke again.

“Enough.”

She stopped immediately.

Stepped back.

Obedient.

Interesting.

He looked at her.

“You told me he would not survive the journey.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“I believed that.”

“You also encouraged his compliance.”

A pause.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He was weak,” she said simply. “It was easier.”

Honest.

At least.

Magnus’s gaze shifted back to me.

“And now?”

I smiled faintly.

“Now it’s not.”

Silence followed.

He looked between us once more.

Then nodded slightly.

As if something had been confirmed.

“You can leave,” he told her.

She hesitated.

Looked at me again.

Longer this time.

There was no confusion left now.

Only recognition of something she didn’t understand.

And didn’t trust.

Good.

Then she turned.

And left.

The door closed behind her.

The room felt quieter without her.

Heavier.

Magnus remained where he was.

Watching me.

“You changed too quickly.”

“I adapted.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is when you don’t have a choice.”

He didn’t respond immediately.

Then he said, “There’s something else.”

I waited.

He studied me one last time before speaking.

“You’re not just surviving.”

“No.”

“You’re planning.”

I didn’t deny it.

There was no point.

His gaze sharpened slightly.

“Be careful who you become.”

I smiled faintly.

“I already am.”

Silence.

Then he turned away.

Dismissal.

Clear.

I didn’t linger.

I walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out without looking back.

But as I moved down the corridor, one thought settled clearly in my mind.

Magnus didn’t understand me.

Not yet.

But now,

He knew I was a problem.