It had been a month since Luren began staying at the Duke's mansion in the Capital. He was allowed to roam freely within the estate, as long as he didn't leave the grounds. For the sake of his family, he chose not to run. Instead, he focused on observing the soldiers during their training sessions, feeling the urge to sharpen his own
swordsmanship.
The Duke, Craige Seravelle, was always gone early in the morning and returned late at night. He was a man weighed down by duty, his presence fleeting but commanding.
Luren barely saw him during the day.
One late night, unable to sleep, Luren stepped into the garden to breathe in the cool night air. The moonlight bathed the flowers in a pale silver glow, but Luren
barely noticed. A sudden wave of heat coursed through his body, dizzying and
suffocating. His heart pounded violently against his chest, his breath coming
in shallow gasps. He stumbled, gripping the edge of the marble bench for support, his vision blurring.
It must be
because I stopped drinking the medicine...
He hadn't taken it since arriving here. Marian, his mother back home, had always prepared it for him ever since he was a teenager. He hadn't thought much of it until
now.
Meanwhile, the Duke was still in the training yard, practicing under the moonlight. As he
paused to catch his breath, a strange scent drifted on the breeze, sweet, almost
intoxicating. His senses sharpened instantly. That smell… it was familiar, but
stronger than anything he'd ever encountered.
Without a word, he followed the scent across the estate, his steps quick and soundless.
As he neared the garden, he saw a figure writhing in agony on the stone path.
His eyes narrowed when he recognized the blonde-haired youth.
"Luren?" Craige's voice was low, but edged with concern.
Luren clutched his chest, his body trembling as if it were on fire from within. His
eyes met the Duke's, glassy, desperate, vulnerable.
"I… can't…breathe…" he gasped.
Craige knelt beside him, the sweet scent now overwhelming. His heart pounded for an
entirely different reason. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal.
"Are you sick?" Craige asked, alarmed by Luren's pale face and trembling body. Without waiting for a response, he quickly lifted the boy into his arms and carried him
to the guestroom.
"Keith, call for the doctor," Craige ordered sharply.
Moments later, the door opened and an elderly man stepped inside, bowing respectfully.
"Dr. Borne, at your service, Your Grace."
Keith followed behind him, glancing at Luren with concern.
Dr. Borne had served the Duke's household since Craige's father was still alive. He was a
trusted physician, known for his sharp eye and discretion.
"We'll wait outside," Craige said, gesturing to Keith. They left the room to give the
doctor some privacy.
Luren lay on the bed, burning with heat. He didn't understand what was happening to his
body his skin was too warm, his senses sharp and muddled at the same time.
Panic fluttered in his chest.
It must be the illness… he thought, breathing heavily. Mother always told me not to skip
my medicine… but after being captured… I forgot.
After a while, the door opened and Dr. Borne stepped out, his face grave.
"Well?" Keith asked impatiently. "Is he terminally ill? We don't need trouble."
Dr. Borne shook his head. "No. But… he is in heat."
Craige and Keith froze.
"What?" they said in unison, their voices filled with disbelief.
The doctor glanced around and lowered his voice. "He's an omega. Didn't you know? His
secondary gender must have been suppressed with medication, but I examined his abdomen. There's a faint mark like a crescent moon. It's a natural omega sign."
Keith's eyes widened. Without thinking, he rushed back into the room and knelt beside
Luren.
"Keith!" Craige snapped. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I just… I need to see for myself," Keith muttered, lifting the hem of Luren's shirt
gently.
"Hey! Don't touch him like that!" Craige growled, stepping forward, but then he stopped.
They both saw it, a faint, reddish mark just below Luren's ribs. A crescent moon.
Craige's jaw clenched. He stared at the boy on the bed, his expression unreadable.
An omega….In my house… he thought grimly.
Luren groaned softly, unaware of the stares or the weight of the truth hanging over
the room like a storm about to break.
"We're not really familiar with Omegas," Keith admitted, his brows furrowing. "We've only heard of them being rare… and this is the first time we've actually met one."
"Omegas have become so rare that most people have forgotten they even exist," Dr. Borne said with a heavy tone. "But during my travels before I settled here and met
the late Duke I encountered a few. If an Omega is born into a poor family,
they're often sold as sex slaves, especially in Velgarith where that trade still thrives. I've seen it with my own eyes."
He paused for a moment, his gaze darkening with memory. "Not all are unfortunate, though. Prince Karin was a well-known Omega, born into royalty, living in luxury. And
the Seravelle brothers... as Alphas, they have a heightened sense of smell.
They can detect an Omega's presence through their scent."
Craige looked uneasy. "I did notice a sweet scent coming from him… It was faint, but…
different."
Dr. Borne nodded, his voice lowering. "I gave him a suppressing medicine to mask that
scent. It won't last forever, but it should keep it from triggering the Duke's instincts for now. The Duke is an Alpha, and a strong one at that. If the scent becomes too strong... it could awaken desires beyond his control."
He looked at Craige seriously. "You might be affected too, but your self-control is
strong. Still... don't underestimate what nature can do when provoked."
"What should we do if the medicine wears off?" Duke Craige asked, concern flickering
in his usually stoic voice.
"An Omega's heat can last for several days," Dr. Borne explained calmly. "He must find
release, or it could harm his body. However, the scent of a strong Alpha can help soothe his instincts. You should stay close to him, Duke."
Craige's brows furrowed in disbelief. He was silent for a moment, his jaw tight. He's my
prisoner… not my lover. The idea felt absurd, even offensive. Why should he of all people be the one to comfort that man?
He turned to Keith, almost desperately.
"I have a girlfriend," Keith said quickly, both hands shooting up in protest, eyes wide.
"Don't even think about it."
Craige let out a heavy sigh, frustration and confusion clashing in his chest. With a
resigned nod, he motioned for the two to leave him.
As the door clicked shut behind them, he stood in the stillness, torn between duty and
discomfort haunted by the strange pull that the Omega's presence ignited within
him.
The Duke stood silently beside the bed, his gaze falling on the boy sleeping peacefully
under the soft covers. He had to admit his prisoner was beautiful.
Luren's pale skin looked almost ethereal in the dim candlelight, smooth and unblemished like porcelain. Soft strands of golden-blonde hair framed his delicate face,
and his long lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks. Despite the faint sweat
on his brow from the lingering heat, he looked serene, almost fragile. His
lips, slightly parted, moved with each steady breath, and his slender frame
curled slightly beneath the sheets as if seeking warmth or comfort.
Craige's jaw clenched. He wasn't supposed to see him this way, not as a man, not as
someone... vulnerable.
He was just a prisoner. And yet, something in that peaceful face stirred a part of Craige
he didn't want to confront.