The silence in the courtyard was deafening. Arion stood motionless, the tip of Kyon's staff a stark, humiliating brand against his throat. But the physical defeat was nothing compared to the shock that coursed through him. When Kyon's true scent had flared, Arion's stomach mark, the one that meant he could reproduce, burned with a fierce, searing heat. The mark on his neck throbbed in response, a frantic, primal acknowledgment of its maker. The two marks, twin flames of an undeniable bond, were reacting to the raw alpha power emanating from the man he had dismissed as a fragile omega.
He felt the unmistakable pull of a fated mate, a powerful, instinctual urge to submit to the man who had just bested him. He had been so wrong. He wasn't just facing a skilled fighter; he was facing his Alpha.
Kyon, sensing the shift, lowered his staff. A slow, triumphant smirk spread across his lips, and his eyes, usually so placid and soft, were alight with a cold, victorious gleam. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on Arion's face.
"What's wrong, my lord?" Kyon's voice was a low purr, a dangerous sound that sent a shiver down Arion's spine. "Don't you feel it? The truth. The scent you've been chasing."
Arion, for the first time in his life, felt a desperate need to kneel. His instincts screamed at him to drop to his knees and offer his throat, to submit to the powerful Alpha who had claimed him. He grit his teeth, fighting the overwhelming urge, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled slightly, his muscles trembling with the effort of resistance.
Kyon's smirk widened. He knew. He could feel Arion's struggle, the battle between his alpha pride and his newly-awakened omega instincts. He looked down at Arion, his gaze an insolent, possessive claim.
"Looks like your body remembers what your mind does not," Kyon said, his voice a soft, mocking whisper that only Arion could hear. "Don't worry, my lord. I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't want to ruin the 'Black Tiger's' reputation, would I?"
He turned and walked away, his movements graceful and fluid. He left a stunned and humiliated Arion in his wake, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was no longer just confused; he was bound. And the man who held his leash was a beautiful, arrogant, and terrifying fake omega prince. Arion had been hunting for an answer, and he had found it. The question now was, what was he going to do about it?