His sharp golden eyes scanned the room, revealing nothing. Unlike the rulers before him, he had no desire for companionship, no need for a mate. Alphas were known for their hunger, their possessiveness, but he felt none of it. His court was filled with concubines—Omegas eager to earn his favor—but to him, they were nothing more than a convenience, a means to an end. He used them when the rut clawed at his control, but once his needs were sated, they became shadows in his mind.

Not once had his blood stirred for any of them. Not once had his heart ached in longing.

Perhaps it never would.

"You must marry."

His mother’s voice cut through the silence, regal and unwavering. The former queen, ever poised, watched him carefully, as if anticipating his resistance.

"A king must secure his bloodline," his father added, standing beside her. "Evermere has agreed. You will take their prince as your mate."

A flicker of annoyance passed across the king’s features. His obsidian hair, short and unbound, caught the candlelight as he leaned forward. "I do not need a mate."

The air in the throne room tensed. The faint scent of his dominance curled through the space. An untrained Omega would have bowed their head instinctively, but his parents were no ordinary subjects. They were rulers before him, unshaken by his power.

"And yet, you will have one."

The finality in his mother’s voice left no room for argument.

Alaric’s jaw tightened. He had spent years untouched by matters of the heart, untouched by anything beyond fleeting physical satisfaction. He did not crave tenderness, did not dream of a bond that would intertwine his fate with another’s. And yet, he was being shackled to an Omega he had never met.

An Omega prince.

A fate he did not choose.

And yet… something in the air felt different this time.

The winds of destiny had begun to shift.