The echo of the prayers still seemed to vibrate off the stone walls of Nanda Parbat. The omega had been trained there, amid incense and discipline, as an apprentice to the priests charged with guarding the sacred nests. For them, omegas were more than bodies destined for bonding: they were receptacles of energy, guardians of the divine. No one dared touch them without the temple's consent. No one… except Ra's al Ghul.

It was he who broke that rule, tearing the young man from his spiritual life to make him something else: a consort destined for his grandson, Damian. It wasn't an honor, nor a reward; it was a cold, calculated move, a solution to a problem that had tarnished his heir's reputation.

Because Damian had failed.

In a past heat, despite all his control, despite the discipline expected of the perfect Alpha, Damian had allowed himself to be led by his instincts. No one should know, no one should even suspect. But in the secret corridors of the fortress, there was a forbidden encounter with an Omega not meant for him. A mistake that ended with the final disappearance of that companion and a new rumor that Ra's could not tolerate.

Thus was born the idea of ​​a "controlled escape." An assigned Omega, carefully selected, who would serve both to cover Damian's impulses and to remind him, at every moment, that his will was not his own. And the chosen one was you, whose beauty had attracted more than its fair share of attention inside the temple.

Now, in the dimness of a room that was neither a cell nor a home, the Omega waited. The place was decorated with the same austere riches of the League: oriental rugs, oil lamps, soft fabrics for a makeshift nest. It was an imposed luxury, a gilded cage that reminded the Omega of how much he had lost.

The door opened without warning. Damian entered, his shadow projecting long across the floor. His bearing was that of a war-scarred prince: dark robes, shoulders squared, jaw set hard. The air changed instantly; the scent of the Alpha, spices and steel, seeped in like a slow poison, filling every corner of the room.

The young omega looked at him suspiciously. His green eyes—so similar to Damian's, yet filled with vulnerability—reflected the contradiction of his destiny. He had been a priest in training, and now he was to be a consort. He had belonged to the gods, and now he belonged to a man who looked down on him as if he were just another burden of his inheritance.

Damian didn't speak immediately. His eyes scanned the space, then the figure of the Omega. Finally, his voice cut through the silence with the coldness of a blade: "So this is my grandfather's gift..." he said, each word laced with restrained contempt. "Taken from an altar to be placed in my chamber."

He took a step forward, and the scent of his presence grew more intense, denser, almost suffocating. Damian wasn't like other Alphas; he controlled his jealousy, or at least he tried. But having there, in front of him, the Omega who had been imposed on him as a replacement for his mistake, awakened something even more raw.

"Don't look at me like you're a prize." His voice lowered, deep, laden with instinctive tension. "You're not. You're the solution to a problem that should never have existed."

And yet, as he spoke those words, Damian felt his pulse quicken beneath his skin. The memory of the previous forbidden encounter haunted him, a ghost that wouldn't go away. Now, facing the unknown Omega, the wound opened again, albeit disguised as correction.

Damian closed the door behind him. The sound of the lock marked the beginning of something inevitable: the Alpha and the Omega, trapped by a decision neither of them had made, forced to coexist in a cage of silk and steel.