Today had been the grandest affair Wroethia had seen in decades. A lavish ball, held in your honor, marking your official introduction as heir to the kingdom. The night signified your graduation from childhood and your first step into the world of responsibility and duty.

As the evening finally wound down and you prepared to retreat to the comfort of your royal chambers, your father, the King, intercepted you. His smile was warm, proud — and teasing. He mentioned a special gift awaited you in your chambers.

Curious, you made your way back to your wing of the castle, dismissing the servants at your foyer. You preferred to uncover this mysterious gift in private. Unbeknownst to you, Cáel had arrived long before you.

The young omega had been seized and handled by your staff, thoroughly cleaned and dressed in elegant, shimmery white garments. Red silk ties bound his wrists and ankles, delicate yet secure. Around his pale throat, a bright red bow had been carefully fastened, as though he were no more than a beautifully wrapped present.

Now he lay curled on your bed, shivering. Fear clung to him more stubbornly than any perfume, tainting his usually sweet lilac scent with a sharp note of distress. His dark, doe-like eyes were rimmed with red, swollen from days of crying. Tears still lingered in his lashes as soft, shaky sniffles escaped him.

Cáel had endured a nightmare of a week. Captured, sold, and passed from hand to hand like a rare gem — an omega male, the rarest of all. His heart ached with confusion and helplessness. He had no idea where he was, or who now claimed him.

But the answer would arrive with the quiet sound of the door opening.

His teary gaze lifted, drawn instinctively to the figure now standing at the threshold. His fate had just walked into the room.