The Arden family's office was too quiet.
Not from peace, but from pressure.
The walls were lined with whitewood shelves filled with old documents, contracts, ledgers — generations of negotiations and alliances that had kept the Arden family afloat through more than one political storm. Today, those papers felt heavier than ever.
At the center of the room sat a glass table.
And at that table sat Caleb Arden, hands trembling just beneath the surface, fingers curled around the edge as if bracing himself against a wave.
A stack of neatly arranged documents lay before him.
Marriage Contract. Bond Agreement. Alliance Oath.
Each line was drenched in politics. Power. Risk.
Each line was another chain.
His mother, Lyra, stood to the left, arms folded, face drawn with worry—but underneath, unyielding. Rowan, his father, stood to the right — more tired than ever, but just as firm.
And near the corner, leaning against the wall as if watching theater, stood Evan — no tears this time. No trembling. Just quiet, wide eyes.
He was silent.
He was safe.
Caleb could feel that safety like a slap.
"You know what this means, Caleb," Lyra said, voice trying to sound gentle. "We're out of time. The Thornes won't wait."
Caleb was silent.
He could feel Evan's gaze drilling into his side.
His father exhaled harshly, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Lucian Thorne is not someone you want to anger," Rowan said. "And we've already angered him by sending the engagement at risk. This is the only way to avoid bloodshed."
Caleb finally looked up. "I was never supposed to be part of this."
"That doesn't matter now!" Evan snapped suddenly, then shrank back when both parents glanced his way.
The silence returned, thicker this time.
Caleb's chest tightened.
"You promised me," Caleb said quietly. "You both did."
"We promised a future for this family," Lyra corrected. "A future we are all a part of."
Caleb swallowed. His voice trembled. "And if I can't survive that future?"
Lyra didn't flinch. "Then at least the rest of us will."
The words hung in the air, ice-cold.
Caleb felt the weight of every moment that had brought him here. It wasn't just this marriage. It wasn't even Lucian Thorne.
It was the history.
Flashback — Five Years Ago
Caleb held the ledger on his lap, eighteen years old and exhausted. His mother stood behind him, telling him the numbers needed to make sense today or they'd lose their supplier.
He'd worked all night. No celebration. No praise.
Only: "Caleb, don't fail us."
Flashback — Three Years Ago
Rowan had nearly lost a political ally because of a misplaced document. Evan had been the one to lose it, but Caleb was the one who took the blame.
"You handled it so calmly," everyone praised him afterward. "You always do."
As if that made it fair.
Flashback — Last Year
Evan panicked before a ceremony and refused to appear. Caleb had stood beside a high-ranking official in his place, spoken smoothly and lied beautifully to maintain the illusion. No one thanked him — but they celebrated Evan later for being "sensitive and overwhelmed."
Caleb had stayed in the background.
That's where he always was.
"Caleb, look at me."
His father's voice dragged him back to the present.
Rowan stepped forward, eyes heavy but resolute. "You are our eldest. You've always taken the burden. This is no different."
"I've always taken the burden," Caleb echoed. "And you've always let me carry it."
Rowan flinched as if struck.
Lyra inhaled sharply. "We're doing what we must. A family cannot survive without someone willing to—"
"Sacrifice." Caleb finished. "I know."
His hands were still trembling.
Evan spoke up quietly. "You're better at this. You're… stronger than me."
Caleb stared.
The words weren't meant as manipulation this time. Evan sounded genuinely guilt-ridden—but Caleb could not afford to take comfort from that.
"You're all asking me to walk into the den of a man who could kill me on a whim," Caleb said softly. "And you're asking kindly."
No one said a word.
Caleb looked at the papers again.
Marriage papers.
No matchmaking. No meeting. No voice. Just ink on a page that sealed his life.
Fear clawed its way up his throat.
"What if he hates me?" Caleb whispered. "What if he decides I'm not… enough?"
Lyra's voice turned sharp.
"Then make him see your value."
"It's Lucian Thorne," Caleb stressed, voice cracking. "Nobody decides what he sees."
Rowan stepped closer, placing a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "We're not asking you to love him. Just… endure. Survive. For us."
There it was.
The role he'd been raised for.
Not loved.
Not chosen.
Just essential.
Caleb picked up the pen. His fingers shook so violently, the tip scraped the paper.
He tried to breathe. The air burned.
"You're doing the right thing," Rowan murmured.
"I know," Caleb said.
It was the only answer they expected of him.
One signature. That was all it took.
Ink bled into paper.
Caleb closed his eyes.
It was a quiet surrender.
The family lawyer collected the papers silently, then approached Caleb with surprising hesitation. His eyes darted to the door before leaning in.
"Mr. Arden," he whispered low enough for only Caleb to hear. "I shouldn't say this, but…"
Caleb glanced up.
The lawyer's throat tightened.
"If he's displeased with you…" he says, voice trembling slightly, "the contract gives him full authority to reject you publicly."
Caleb froze.
"Reject?" he repeated.
The lawyer nodded. "In front of the alliance, with consequences—public shame, financial loss, possible revocation of protection… your standing would be destroyed. Your family could distance themselves to avoid association."
Caleb's breath hitched.
He would be thrown away. Officially.
Not powerful enough. Not useful enough.
Not enough.
"That clause was added because the original omega refused." The lawyer paused. "I'm sorry."
Caleb didn't respond.
He just stared at the signed document now being placed in a locked case. Everything he had just agreed to was now binding.
His fate belonged to a man he'd never met.
A man who was feared by Alphas.
And it wasn't the marriage that terrified him most.
It was the possibility he might not even be wanted.