“Arien!” Ives said, still hardly believing that his husband stood before him, and reached out.

The omega caught the alpha’s hand at once and examined it carefully, then asked quickly,

“Your wounds… have they healed? Are you well?”

“Yes. They healed long ago. I’m fine. But you—”

Arien did not let him finish. He turned away and motioned for Ives to stand. Carefully, Ives stepped out of the cell behind his husband. There were no guards anywhere — as if they had all vanished. Arien moved to open Thibault’s cell. Ives noticed how much his husband had changed. In Milosh’s clothes he looked larger, yet he seemed exhausted. A hundred questions pressed against Ives’s lips, but somehow he could not speak them.

The moment the door opened, the weakened Thibault lunged at Arien. Even Ives himself did not know how he managed to move so quickly and place himself between them.

“Have you learned nothing?”

“If you try that again or threaten me,” Arien said coldly, almost indifferently, “I will call the guards and put all of you back in the cells.”

Standing so close, Ives noticed the sweet scent around him. It was not the scent of heat.

“Now listen carefully,” Arien continued. “The passage you repaired, Thibault — it is unguarded now. No one will meet you on the way there. But be careful. Go.”

“Another one of your tricks?” Thibault snapped, anger boiling in his voice, mixed with deep distrust. “You want us to try to escape so we’ll be executed for certain?”

“If I wanted that,” Arien said calmly, “you would all have been dead long ago.”

“Then why—?”

“Hurry and take back the power,” Arien said suddenly.

Ives turned toward his husband in disbelief. Was he joking? But Arien’s face was serious, determined.

“Go now. The castle won’t stay unguarded forever. Move!”

Milosh was the first to react. He grabbed Thibault’s hand and pulled him toward the exit. Ives swallowed hard and looked into his husband’s eyes. There was something there — a quiet plea, and hope.

Then Arien gave the smallest nod. Milosh and Thibault calling to him, Ives tore his gaze away with great effort and was about to follow when Arien suddenly called out, “Lord!”

As soon as Ives turned back, Arien seized his hand and pressed it against his stomach. For a moment Ives’s mind went completely blank. There were only sensations. Beneath his palm — warmth, the firm curve of a rounded belly… and the faintest movement. His eyes widened in shock. His breath caught. He could no longer believe this was real. As if spellbound, no longer hearing Thibault or anything around him, he placed his second hand there as well — just to be sure. The child moved again beneath his palms. It was real.

“According to my astrological calculations, this child is an alpha. But I may be wrong…” the omega said. Then suddenly, with heat — almost anger — he added, “And if you doubt that the child is yours, then—”

But Ives did not let him finish. He pulled his husband close and covered his lips with his own. For a moment he thought Arien would push him away — the omega even lifted his hand as if to do so — but then… Arien relaxed. He caught the front of the lord’s torn, dirty shirt and parted his lips.

Arien had always protected his lips. He allowed kisses everywhere else — touches, caresses — but never there. That had always been the line between them. And Ives had respected it.

Until now.

The omega’s lips were dry from the wind and slightly rough, yet still soft. The moment of happiness and closeness lasted only a few seconds. Arien broke the kiss and pushed the alpha back.

“Go already! And do everything you can to come back quickly!”

“Come with us,” Ives whispered desperately, taking his husband’s hand. But Arien pulled it free and shook his head.

“I can’t. If I disappear too, they’ll notice at once and start searching. That’s too dangerous. This way I can buy you some time. Don’t worry — they won’t harm me. But gather your army quickly. It’s already hard to hide the belly, and soon it will be impossible.”

“Arien!”

Ives wanted to seize him, hold him tight, drag him away. But Arien would always be Arien.

Suddenly the alpha trembled — all the fears that had been building inside him were ready to burst out. But the omega seemed to read his thoughts.

“Alian is far away and safe. I receive news regularly. Your children too, Thibault, Milosh.”

Milosh let out a loud breath and nearly burst into tears, but there was no time for that now. With one last look at his husband, pain in his heart, Ives ran after his king. Arien had told the truth: they reached the hidden passage without trouble and escaped outside. Horses were already waiting there.

Soon the castle lay far behind them. But Ives’s longing — and his determination — only grew stronger.

He would return Thibault to the throne

And he would come back for his husband. And for their child.

Arien opened the door with a trace of fear. Once, he had never been afraid to open it — warm embraces, passionate kisses and love had awaited him there. It had been his room. It felt as if that had happened in another life.

Someone seemed to have lived here — there were belongings and papers in the room. But now he would live here again, as he had many years ago. Arien ordered that all the things be taken away and collapsed onto the bed. The mattress had been changed; it was harder now. Or perhaps he had simply grown used to the beds in the North.

Arien frowned and pressed his lips together — he could still feel the lord’s gaze on him. He had rarely seen him upset; the man always tried to remain calm. Even when the omega had threatened his child, even when he had been rude and pushed him away — the lord had never seemed so troubled. Or had Arien simply begun to pay more attention?..

Arien tried hard to drive the memory of those piercing grey eyes from his mind, but there was no escape from them. And that feeling of guilt… Why had it settled on his heart like a stone? The omega sat up and shook his head — no, he had already done everything so that the lord would suffer from this as little as possible. He would live quietly in his North, getting involved in nothing, just as he had for many years before. The North were almost hermits; they never played an important role in politics and always obeyed. And that would surely suit Ives. During the years Arien had spent beside him, he had understood that much — the lord was diligent, but political matters clearly did not please him. He was happy managing the affairs of the North, raising Alian, and the rest of Corilan mattered little to him — he dealt with it only out of foolish respect and love for Thibault.

Now Arien would allow Ives to return to the things he loved. And they would never see each other again. Suddenly he remembered the lord’s grey eyes again and, for a moment, almost felt his touch.

From the very beginning Arien had wanted revenge — he hated both Thibault and Ives. The second mostly because he was Coriel’s accomplice. And that hatred could not fade. Little Carlisle constantly appeared in his dreams, as did his brother and Arman holding a baby in his arms. Arien could no longer cry, though he wished he could. Every second of his life burned with anger and pain; he felt miserable. Whenever he saw the royal castle — and especially Thibault — he wanted to tear him apart. The same with his husband, innocent though he was, but still his husband.

And Ives. Yet all that anger, all the pain and hatred toward the man who stubbornly called himself his husband — the man to whom Arien had been forced to bear a son — began to fade. Slowly. They did not disappear, but they softened. Ives had never treated him badly; he had always cared for him. Behind the veil of pain the omega did not want to admit it, but little by little… had he grown used to it? Out of habit, or some strange spell, he continued to be angry with the alpha, though not as much as with Thibault. Ives had always remained Thibault’s ally, the one who respected and loved him without measure. The man who had forced him to bear a child. But Arien had never wished for his death.

Arien wanted revenge, yet he could do nothing. So he accepted Aidan’s offer. The young alpha was his friend; they shared many interests, and the most important of them was Antarella. Aidan deeply respected Orsin and admired him. He disliked Thibault’s actions and suggested that Arien help the rebellion — telling them about the king’s plans and his conversations with Ives. Everyone knew that the lord was the first to learn about all of Coriel’s plans.

However, when the rebels began to act more actively, their leader, Zelan, sent word through Aidan that Arien should also pass along documents — copying plans and letters from Ives’s desk. And, so there would be no suspicion, he should somehow grow closer to him. Aidan hinted at it many times, but in the little house in the mountains, from which Arien was supposed to escape secretly, he finally said it plainly.

“You must do it, my lord. Let the lord come closer to you.”

“I can’t… And besides, would it even make sense? The lord isn’t interested in me. He wouldn’t…”

“My lord,” Aidan said with a smile, “Lord Boriel is a very gentle and kind man. And he is endlessly grateful to you for his son. I see how he treats you. All you need to do is let him get a little closer and be a bit more open — and you will become his world.”

And Arien listened. At first he did not want to, but after seeing the lord treat a servant kindly, he decided to try. Aidan had been right: the omega easily passed along plans, sketches and letters, and Ives never suspected a thing.

He became a symbol for the rebels — Zelan used that. His family name, his connection to Orsin, the tragedy and fate of the omega. Arien did not like Zelan. It was he who had infected Arien with smallpox, but that was not the main reason. Zelan was a slippery and rather shallow man, though he had a quick tongue and the ability to lead people by confusing their minds. Their cooperation was mutually beneficial, yet Arien had set one condition from the very beginning — and Zelan had agreed.

Aidan entered the room silently. Only when he spoke did Arien turn around. Aidan had already changed his clothes and somehow found food, which he now carried on a tray.

“Eat something, my lord. You look so pale.”

The alpha set the tray on the small table and, guiding the omega into an armchair, sat down opposite him. They ate in silence. Arien could not speak anyway; he seemed lost somewhere deep within himself. It was hard to believe that all this was real — that he was sitting in his own room not as the younger Lord Boriel arriving for some celebration, but as its master.

“My lord, is everything all right?” Aidan suddenly asked. “You seem so upset.”

“Upset?”

“Yes. It’s because of the lord, isn’t it? You haven’t been yourself since that meeting in the throne hall.”

“What does the lord have to do with it?” Arien snorted and pushed the tray away from him. “I’m shaking from all the anxiety and exhaustion. I want to sleep.”

“Zelan is eager to see you at the festivities.”

“That’s not for me, and he knows it. And I’m not obliged to listen to him.”

Aidan nodded meekly and left Arien’s chambers. The omega changed his clothes and wrapped himself in a blanket. He was so tired.

It was strange. After Thibault seized power, there were many days the omega could not remember — he had spent them weeping endlessly, losing his mind, and then lying under the influence of herbs. But now everything seemed sharpened, painfully clear. Yet there was no joy, no triumph — nothing. As if something were wrong.

At first Zelan had drawn him to his side by supporting Orsin’s position and policies. Arien knew of his brother’s plans: he intended to reshape the tax system, negotiate with several kingdoms about trade and alliances. He wanted to improve the lives of common people, abolish certain punishments… Orsin wished to change many things — to undo everything Ludwig Coriel and his predecessors had done. Thibault, however, did none of this, having been raised by his grandfather and believing that his policy was the right one.

Arien spent his days in the library and in his room, writing down everything Orsin had wanted to introduce and reform. He even added some suggestions and revisions of his own and, at last, felt satisfied. His hands itched to begin, and the omega hurried to Zelan — but suddenly he overheard several guards talking.

“Those children keep crying. I can’t go to them anymore. They keep asking where their father is.”

Arien froze — everything inside him turned cold. He grabbed one of the alphas by the arm — they quickly turned and bowed — and exclaimed,

“What children? There are children here?”

“My lord… The children of Thibault and… Lord Boriel’s son.”

“They weren’t sent north?” Arien asked hoarsely, tightening his grip on the man’s arm.

“Apparently not.”

The omega clenched his teeth and, nearly dropping all his papers, hurried to Zelan’s chamber. Forgetting all propriety, he flung the door open and strode toward the leader of the rebellion. The room was filthy and smelled foul; Zelan’s friends lay on the floor drunk beyond sense — and the alpha himself was no better. Arien slammed the papers onto the table, knocking goblets of wine aside. Then he bent down and grabbed Zelan by the front of his shirt.

“You lied to me!”

“What are you talking about?..” the man slurred drunkenly, reaching for his goblet.

Arien roughly tore it from his hand and splashed the remaining wine in his face — for a moment Zelan seemed to sober up. He stared at the omega and opened his mouth to shout something, but Arien seized his shirt even tighter, nearly choking him.

“You promised that the moment the castle was ours, you would send the children north — all of them! Together with Lord Boriel!” Arien suddenly caught his breath. Tightening his grip, he asked hoarsely, pronouncing every word with icy precision, “You didn’t send the lord north either, did you? That was my very first and most important condition. Did you forget? You—!”

“Step back, Your Majesty!” Zelan shoved him away rather roughly and rose to his feet. A disgusting grin spread across his face. “And why would I send Thibault’s children anywhere? And the main supporter of his cause — the most important one of all! Why are you so nervous? Aren’t you the one who hates them more than any of us? Or did your little mission of getting closer wash away all that hatred?”

Arien pressed his lips together and barely restrained himself from striking him — how much he wanted to! Instead he said through clenched teeth:

“Send them away from here and do not pursue them, as you promised.”

“No. Now let’s drink to our victory. And what did you bring? Your plans?”

The omega snatched up the papers and left the chambers without another word. Zelan had never intended to let the Boriels go — and he never would. Arien’s heart pounded wildly in his chest; for a moment darkness swam before his eyes, and a pulling pain spread through his lower belly.

“Damn."