Damian's POV
Damian watched the person in front of him start to panic.
The bride that everyone was celebrating downstairs was standing in his bedchamber and absolutely terrified. Not the kind of fear a nervous girl on her wedding night would feel. This was something deeper. Something raw. This was the fear of someone caught in a lie so massive that exposure meant death.
And Damian understood that fear better than anyone.
"I don't—" the bride started.
"Stop," Damian said. He needed to see this clearly. Needed to understand what was happening. "Stop pretending. I know you're not the princess."
The bride's whole body went rigid. His eyes were wide and glassy with shock and terror.
Damian studied him carefully. Really looked at him. The face was perfect. Exactly like the portraits of Princess Seraphina that Damian had seen a hundred times. But the eyes were different. These eyes held a depth that didn't match a girl trained only in diplomacy and court politics.
These eyes had seen real suffering.
"Your movements are wrong," Damian continued. He was testing his theory, watching for reactions. "A princess moves like she was born to be watched. You move like you're remembering choreography."
The bride's hands started shaking. He crossed his arms over his chest to hide it.
That confirmed it. This person was intelligent enough to understand body language. Trained enough to recognize why Damian could tell something was wrong. That meant military training. Or something similar. Not something a princess would have.
"Please," the bride whispered. "Please don't tell anyone. I can explain—"
"Can you?" Damian kept his voice low and controlled. Inside, his mind was racing. His suppressants were starting to fail. His heat was coming. He could feel it building in his body like a storm. The last thing he needed was to be vulnerable in front of this stranger. But he had to understand what was happening first. "Explain why you're impersonating a princess. Explain where the real Seraphina actually is. Explain what game Frost Ridge is playing with my kingdom."
"It's not a game," the bride said desperately. The words tumbled out like he couldn't stop them. "She disappeared. Three days before the wedding. Just vanished. My father forced me to take her place. He said if I didn't, he'd declare war and blame her for betraying him. He said thousands of soldiers would die because of her."
Damian felt something shift inside his chest.
Not sympathy. He was too controlled for that. Too trained in hiding emotion. But something that felt like recognition. Like resonance. Like he was looking at someone who understood what it meant to be trapped by designation and duty.
"Your father forced you?" Damian asked.
The bride nodded miserably.
"And you agreed," Damian continued.
"I didn't have a choice," the bride whispered. His voice was breaking now. The cracks were showing. "He was going to destroy her memory. Burn her name. Make sure everyone thought she was a traitor. I had to protect her. Even if she's gone, I had to protect her."
Damian studied his new husband's face and understood something fundamental. This person loved his sister enough to become her. Loved her enough to marry a stranger. Loved her enough to risk execution.
That kind of love was either complete innocence or complete honesty.
Damian's suppressants were failing faster. His body was burning now. The heat was coming whether he wanted it to or not. And this person, this fraud in a princess's nightgown, was probably the most dangerous thing in his palace.
Because Damian couldn't afford to trust anyone.
But he was about to anyway.
"You're terrified," Damian said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes," the bride breathed.
"You came here thinking you could fool everyone. Thinking you could maintain this lie forever."
"Yes."
"And now you're realizing that's impossible."
"Yes."
Damian took a deep breath. His body was screaming at him. Every instinct was telling him to hide. To send this person away. To maintain the walls he'd spent twenty-six years building.
But those walls were suffocating him.
And this person understood why.
Damian reached into the pocket of his sleeping pants and pulled out a small glass bottle. He held it up so the bride could see it clearly.
Heat suppressants. The strongest kind. The kind that kept an Omega hidden inside an Alpha's body.
The bride stared at the bottle like it was a weapon.
"You're not the only one hiding," Damian said quietly.
The words hung in the air between them. Damian watched understanding crash across his new husband's face. Watched the realization bloom that the crown prince everyone feared was exactly like him. Trapped. Pretending. Desperate.
"You're Omega," the bride breathed.
It wasn't a question. And saying it out loud was the most dangerous thing Damian had ever done.
If this person told anyone. If this secret got out. If even one person suspected the truth, Damian would be executed. Not killed in battle like an Alpha. Not given a dignified death. Executed like something broken. Like a mistake. Like genetic failure.
But looking at his new husband, Damian understood something that he'd never understood before.
Keeping secrets alone was killing him slowly.
Maybe it was time to share the weight.
"My mother lied when I was born," Damian continued. His voice sounded strange saying these words out loud. He'd never said them to anyone except his doctor. "She said I was Alpha. I've been taking these since childhood. Playing a role. Just like you."
The bride's eyes were locked on the bottle. On the suppressants that had kept Damian alive and imprisoned for his entire life.
"So we have a problem," Damian said. He could feel his body temperature rising. The heat was getting worse. Soon he wouldn't be able to hide it. Soon the pain would become unbearable. "We're married. The treaty depends on this marriage. And we're both frauds."
He waited for the bride to respond. Waited for rejection or disgust or fear. But instead, something much more dangerous happened.
The bride stepped closer.
Not in attack. In trust.
"What do you want?" the bride asked.
Damian's vision was starting to blur at the edges. His suppressants were definitely failing now. This was one of the bad ones. One of the heats where his body fought so hard that the medicine could barely hold it back.
"I want to make a deal," Damian said. His voice was getting rougher. He could feel the Omega underneath breaking through. "We protect each other. We keep these secrets. We maintain the public lies. And we survive."
He walked to his desk on unsteady legs. His hands were shaking now. He pulled out parchment and began writing. The words came in a rush. Rules. Agreements. The framework of a marriage built on mutual destruction.
Rule One: Maintain the public facade.
Rule Two: Keep each other's secrets.
Rule Three: No physical intimacy beyond what's required for appearances.
Rule Four: Search for Seraphina together.
Rule Five: Either can leave after thirty days notice.
It was cold. It was clinical. It was the loneliest thing Damian had ever written.
He set down the pen and looked at his new husband.
"Do you agree?" Damian asked.
The bride took the contract and read it. His hands were still shaking but his eyes were steady. Like he was evaluating something precious.
"If I don't?" the bride asked.
Damian leaned back in his chair. His body was burning now. The heat was coming. Soon he would have to lock himself away and suffer through it alone like he'd been doing for years.
But not tonight. Tonight he'd had a moment where someone knew the truth and chose to stay anyway.
"Then I expose you at dawn," Damian said. His voice sounded distant now. The pain was starting. "Your father's deception becomes public knowledge. The treaty falls apart. War happens. Thousands die. And you get executed for treason."
He paused. The words came harder now.
"But if you sign, we survive. We protect each other. We figure out what happened to your sister. And we both live to see another day."
The bride picked up the pen.
And signed.
When Damian looked at that signature, something broke inside him. Or maybe something healed. He couldn't tell which anymore.
He'd just given someone the power to destroy him.
And somehow, that felt like freedom.