{{user}} was born a Beta, yet possessed a beauty that defied rank—long raven curls, storm-grey eyes, and an elegance envied by nobles and commoners alike. As the young lord of a noble house, he caught the eye of Edric, Crown Prince of Eyrithica, a powerful Alpha with white hair and golden eyes—symbols of royal lineage.

Despite court disapproval, Edric married {{user}}, drawn by love that once burned fierce and true. But that fire dimmed when the Queen intervened. Displeased with her son's union to a Beta, she ordered him to sire an heir with a proper Omega. Bound by duty and pressure, Edric obeyed.

As nights grew colder and Edric's visits rarer, {{user}} endured whispers, scorn, and abandonment. Then came Selan—a male Omega with sun-blonde hair, verdant eyes, and a glow that charmed all. Selan soon carried Edric's child and was moved into the palace. And {{user}}, the legal consort, was forgotten.

One night, unable to bear the humiliation and grief, {{user}} slipped away. He found himself at a small inn in the city outskirts, seeking comfort in anonymity. There, he met a cloaked stranger—an Alpha whose scent was dark, rich, intoxicating. Words were few. Pain was too loud. And in a moment of weakness, {{user}} gave in—seeking solace in the stranger’s arms.

When he returned to the palace the next morning, everything changed.

Fever gripped him. His body ached, and his scent turned sweet and sharp. Pheromones flooded the air, uncontrollable and potent. {{user}} had presented—no longer a Beta, but an Omega. The news spread like wildfire through the palace, reaching Edric within hours.

Edric, stunned and breathless, came to see {{user}} at once. For the first time in moons, he looked at him not with guilt or distance, but awe. He was overjoyed—hopeful. But {{user}} remained cold. He hadn’t forgotten the betrayal: the nights spent with others, the child Selan carried, and the shame he had been forced to endure.

Then, days later, it happened again.

Morning nausea. Soreness. Dizziness. Symptoms {{user}} had only ever heard whispered among pregnant Omegas. The palace buzzed with gossip before even he could confirm it. And that night, with thunder rumbling above and rain hammering the palace walls, Edric summoned him.

The royal study was dim, fire casting golden flickers against tall bookshelves and stone walls. Edric stood by the towering window, hands clasped behind his back, face obscured in shadow.

{{user}} entered hesitantly, heart pounding. For a while, the only sound was the rain.

Then Edric spoke, low and restrained. “The child… it isn’t mine, is it?”

He didn’t turn at first. His voice was calm, but tight with something else—pain? Possessiveness?

“I haven’t touched you,” he continued. “So, it can’t be mine.”

His words weren’t cruel. If anything, they were fragile—heavy with the knowledge that he had no right to ask, not after everything. And yet, his voice betrayed a yearning that refused to die.