Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

⚠️TW : VIOLENCE, ABUSIVE ⚠️

A pair of legs belonging to a brown-haired young man darted swiftly along a dusty, ash-covered path. His steps quickened, carrying him farther from his village, now reduced to smoldering ruins. The raging flames had not only devoured the villagers' homes but also scorched the surrounding forest, leaving behind dry branches that jutted like skeletal fingers into the gray sky. Thick smoke still billowed, casting a grim shadow over the once-fertile land.  

From a distance, faint screams and cries could still be heard, though they were slowly drowned out by the thundering hooves and shouts of the kingdom's guards, who slaughtered without mercy. Their swords glinted in the sunlight, yet no warmth remained—only terror that clung to every corner of the village.

"Run, run as far as you can!"

"Don’t come back here! Run as far as your legs will take you!"

Those words echoed in his ears—the voices of people who might no longer be alive. His chest tightened, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he kept running. His blistered feet and wounded body could not deter his determination to survive.  

As the sound of approaching horses grew louder, he frantically searched for a hiding place. His sharp eyes locked onto a large, half-rotted tree still standing, its hollow trunk just big enough to conceal a person. Without hesitation, he leaped inside, squeezing himself into the damp darkness.  

From within the hollow, he heard the horses draw near, followed by the triumphant shouts of the guards still hunting for any survivors. His heart pounded so loudly he feared it would give him away. Holding his breath, he tried to calm himself, praying they would soon leave.

"There's no one here!" shouted one of the guards in a rough voice.

"Search all the way to the edge of the forest! Don’t let a single one escape!" another replied.

He shut his eyes, praying silently they wouldn’t find him. Moments later, the sound of hooves gradually faded. Still, he remained motionless—he wouldn’t risk it.  

Exhausted, the brown-haired man chewed on a piece of hard bread, nearly choking as he forced it down. It tasted like gnawing on dry wood, but it was the only food he had managed to save in his escape. His hollow eyes stared at the ground, his troubled thoughts spinning aimlessly.

"Again, my life is completely ruined." he muttered inwardly, his voice hollow even to himself.  

Sometimes, the thought of giving up crossed his mind—to march straight to the palace and surrender himself to the king. But the moment he remembered the ruler's face, that urge vanished. The king was a tyrant, no different from the half-sister he had overthrown.  

He let out a long sigh, trying to untangle the messy fragments of his memory about everything that had happened.  

That king was once his knight.  

Yes, he had once been part of the Frontera knights' order—had even tormented that knight in various ways, whether out of envy or youthful mischief. Yet who would have thought that the man he once deemed weak would rise, rally forces, and ultimately overthrow the tyrannical queen who had oppressed the people for years?

Then, the bastard son became king.

The shift in power had initially brought hope. The people cheered, believing peace had finally come. But instead, the hero became a new monster. Wildfires, massacres, and fresh atrocities spread everywhere—all to crush crime and rebellion against the kingdom.

"What is he really after?"

Sometimes, he wondered if the king’s actions were all for praise—as if he craved recognition as the savior. But other times, he suspected the king was searching for someone.  

Someone very important.  

Or perhaps… someone he deeply hated?  

The cold night wind blew, making him shiver. He clenched his fist, crushing what little remained of the bread in his grip.  

After swallowing the last bite of the hard loaf, he slumped to the ground, his back against the rough tree bark. His dirt-stained hands wrapped around his knees, then, with a slow movement, he lowered his head until his face was hidden between them. His breathing was heavy, as if each inhale burned.  

Shit. Everything was completely ruined.  

The thought echoed in his head, over and over, like an unshakable curse.  

Lloyd Frontera—ah, no. Lloyd had long discarded that name, shed his noble title, and tried to become just another nobody. A wanderer with no identity, no past, no place to call home.

But no matter how hard he ran, the past always caught up.  

He let out a long sigh, his voice hoarse and weary. Was this karma? The question gnawed at him. Back then, he had treated people cruelly—looked down on them, mocked them, even hurt them without remorse. He lived in luxury and arrogance, blind to the suffering beyond his palace walls.  

Then, his parents died.  

Suddenly, the world he knew collapsed. Without prepared everything, he was left alone, and his inability to face reality shattered him. Instead of rising, he chose to flee—away from his duties as a noble, from the responsibility of protecting his lands, from everything tied to honor and power.  

He couldn’t do it.  

His trembling hand scratched his head, though no itch bothered him. The motion was just an escape from the relentless thoughts tormenting him.

It all began when he drowned in grief, turning to heavy drinking to forget everything. He got drunk worse than ever before—so much that his body could no longer handle the alcohol he poured into himself. And finally, on some filthy street, he collapsed, vomiting blood, his vision blurred and breath nearly gone.  

That was when he realized something. 

He didn’t want to die.  

But what did he want to live for now? He didn’t even know what to do.  

Lloyd shook his head violently, as if trying to drive away the tormenting thoughts. It was too late to keep dwelling. Exhausted, he decided to close his eyes briefly, leaning against the inner wall of the tree that served as his temporary refuge. The warmth of the wood, still holding remnants of the day’s heat, felt comforting against his chilled skin.  

'How strange', he thought vaguely before sleep took him. He should’ve stayed alert—should’ve been able to hear if danger approached. But physical and mental exhaustion had overwhelmed him.  

When Lloyd opened his eyes again, the surroundings felt different. The clamor of troops that had filled the forest earlier was now gone, replaced by an almost suffocating silence. The air felt colder and fresher—a sign that dawn might be near.

"It's only a few minutes i take sleep." he rasped, his tongue dry and bitter. He rubbed his face with dirty hands, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness.  

With slightly calmer nerves, Lloyd began crawling out of the hollow tree. The rough bark scraped his already wounded arms, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting out of this cramped space, breathing freely, finally—  

The cold touch of metal suddenly pressed against his neck. Lloyd froze. Slowly, his eyes caught the glint of light reflecting off the sword now threatening his life.  

Unconsciously, his head bowed in submission. His sharp Omega senses immediately recognized the overpowering scent of mint—the distinct fragrance of an Alpha exuding dominance. The aroma flooded his senses, making his knees tremble almost uncontrollably.  

"W-wait," his voice cracked as the blade pressed deeper. Cold sweat trickled down his temples. His body reacted instinctively to the Alpha's unspoken command—muscles tensing, heart pounding, his very instincts screaming at him to submit.  

"It's been a while, Lord Lloyd."  

That voice—deep, cold, laced with a piercing edge that stabbed straight to his marrow. Lloyd went rigid. His heart skipped a beat before hammering violently, as if trying to break through his ribs.  

No.  

It couldn’t be.

With slow, deliberate movement, Lloyd tilted his head back, forcing his gaze upward to see the speaker's face. And the moment his eyes landed on the figure atop the horse, the blood in his veins turned to ice.  

His face paled.  

Before him, sitting arrogantly astride a majestic black horse, was the person he had spent years avoiding—the one who haunted his nightmares, the specter that made him wake in cold sweat.  

Pale mint hair, almost glowing under the moonlight, cascaded over broad shoulders. Deep blue eyes—cold and unreadable like an ocean’s depths—pierced through him with an intensity that made Lloyd feel like cornered prey. His flawless, porcelain skin had long been the subject of courtly whispers, with many claiming his beauty was divine, too perfect for a mere mortal.  

But Lloyd knew better. Behind that mesmerizing face lurked a madness just as terrifying as the tyrant half-brother he had overthrown.  

Javier Asrahan─ No. Now, he is Javier Magentano, he king who ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, who burned many villages, who made people tremble at the mere mention of his name.

Damn it.

Why now?  

Why at a time like this?!  

Lloyd bit his lip until it nearly bled. His hands clenched, nails digging into the dirt beneath him. He wanted to run, to disappear—but his body felt leaden, locked in place by that icy gaze.  

And atop his horse, Javier smiled. Not the warm smile of an old friend, nor the sneer of arrogance. This was a smile that made Lloyd’s blood run slow—like a serpent coiling around its prey before the kill.  

"Lloyd Frontera—" Javier spoke again, slower this time, as if savoring each syllable with cruelty. "Or ... should I call you 'a runaway rat' now?"  

Lloyd swallowed. His throat was parched. He could feel Javier’s amber scent growing stronger, flooding his lungs, forcing submission. As an Omega, his body reacted instinctively—knees trembling, breath turning shallow, a primal part of him wanting to bow, to yield, to acknowledge the Alpha’s dominance.

... 

Lloyd's blood like burned, his head throbbing as if beaten from within. His entire body felt feverish despite the cold night air surrounding them. Before him, the tyrant king sat rigid upon his trone, watching with a measuring gaze—like a cat observing a cornered mouse.  

Coarse ropes bit into his wrists, leaving angry red marks on his pale skin. Every slight movement only made the bindings tighten further. Lloyd tried to take a deep breath, but his constricted chest refused to fill completely.  

He had cast aside the Frontera name, abandoned his noble title, even tried to erase all traces of his past. Yet fate seemed to laugh at him, dragging him back into the very world he'd fought to escape.  

Memories of his dead parents, his missing brother—all those shadows came haunting his mind again. And now, facing the man he feared most—the man he'd once looked down upon—he had to confront the bitter truth: his running had been pointless all along.

Javier's voice suddenly cut through the night's silence. "How does a man with no self-awareness end up in a village housing rebels?" he said coldly. "Are you one of their conspirators?"  

Lloyd held his breath. His face, already pale from confusion and fear, turned corpse-white. His dry lips trembled, but words refused to form. He could feel Javier's piercing gaze dissecting him, as if reading every thought racing through his mind.  

"You're didn't answer me, Lloyd," Javier continued, his tone making Lloyd's hair stand on end when met with silence. "Should I draw my own conclusions?"  

Lloyd's throat went bone-dry. He knew every word he spoke now could decide whether he lived or died. Yet beneath the fear, a small spark of anger flickered—anger at fate, at himself, and at the man before him who stared down with such unbearable superiority.

"...N-no. I'm just a commoner who makes a living farming—"  

Lloyd's trembling voice was cut off by a sudden burst of loud laughter. Javier threw his head back, his deep, booming laughter echoing through the throne room, bouncing off the grand marble walls. Lloyd's face twisted in confusion as he noticed the strange reactions from the court officials and knights surrounding them.  

They all turned their faces away, shoulders stiff—some even biting their lower lips. But what shocked him more was the absence of hatred or disgust in their eyes. Instead, there was only... pity? As if they were watching someone unknowingly step on a landmine.  

Javier finally stopped laughing, but that sinister smile remained etched on his flawless face. His ocean-deep blue eyes narrowed as he stared at Lloyd, who now bowed his head low, his pale nape exposed under tangled brown hair.

"Drag this man to the special prison," Javier commanded abruptly, his voice icy. "Don't let him see the outside world until he receives his due punishment!"  

"As you command, Your Majesty!" the soldiers answered in unison, their voices thunderous.  

"Wait, what—"  

Lloyd didn't get to finish his protest. Two burly soldiers already gripped his arms roughly, dragging him backward across the cold marble floor. His legs scraped helplessly, his worn boots squeaking against the polished stone.  

"Hey! I'm really not part of the rebels! I swear I'm just a farmer—!"  

His panicked voice faded as the distance between him and the throne grew. The grand doors, carved with the royal crest, slowly closed before him, swallowing his struggling figure whole.

In the throne room, now silent again, Javier remained seated, his long fingers tapping rhythmically against the golden armrest. A satisfied smile still played on his lips.  

"Tonight will be a long night," he murmured to himself, eyes gleaming with terrible anticipation.  

The palace guards exchanged knowing glances. They all understood—no prisoner had ever left the special prison intact, neither in body nor mind. And the King... he always savored every second of it.

... 

"Let—let me go!" Lloyd screamed, his voice breaking between fury and despair. Yet the royal guards' grip was unshakable as iron. His thin wrists twisted painfully behind his back, joints nearly dislocating under the pressure. His legs dragged across the cold, damp stone floor, leaving his entire body trembling.  

They took him deeper, descending narrow stairs lit only by dying torches. The dungeon air was thick with the stench of iron, sweat, and something sharper—the reek of fear and suffering.  

And then, he saw it.  

Dark cells lined the corridor, holding figures that barely resembled humans anymore. An old man shrieked as an expressionless torturer pulled out his nails one by one with pliers. In another cell, a woman convulsed while her molars were pried loose with a rusted iron tool. Blood gushed from her mouth, stretched wide in a soundless scream.  

But worst of all was the man at the end—his hands gone, severed at the elbows, while the executioner beside him calmly wiped a large knife still dripping with fresh blood.

Lloyd squeezed his eyes shut. His breaths turned short, erratic. His body, which had been thrashing, now went limp—surrendering to the futility of resistance. He could only stumble along with the soldiers dragging him, desperately trying to block out every sound reaching his ears.  

"ARGHHH!!"  

That scream—so raw, so full of agony—made Lloyd nearly jump. His eyelids clenched tighter, the hairs on his neck standing on end. He heard the splatter of liquid and didn’t need to look to know it was blood. Blood flooding the floor. Blood that might soon be part of his own fate.  

He sucked in a sharp breath, willing his pounding heart to steady. Don’t think about it. Don’t listen. His mind scrambled for distraction. Childhood memories? No—too many ghosts there. Counting? Maybe.  

One... two... three...

But even behind closed lids, the images of the tortured haunted him. Blood. Screams. The grating scrape of iron tools.

After a few moments what felt like hours—though only moments had passed—Lloyd slowly opened his eyes as his body was shoved into the cell. The screech of iron bars locking echoed behind him. The two soldiers who had brought him turned away, the keys at their belts clinking sharply as they walked off.  

Trembling, Lloyd crawled toward the cold iron bars, his pale fingers gripping the rusted metal tightly. His eyes swept over the cramped cell—damp stone walls covered in meaningless scratches, an earthen floor soaked with something darker than water, and a low ceiling where spiders hung motionless in their grimy webs.  

No one else.  

No sounds.  

Just him.  

And in that silence, a deeper fear crept in. Other cells had screams, had torture—but at least that meant life still existed. Here? Only darkness waited.  

Lloyd’s face stiffened as he watched the soldiers bow their helmed heads slightly in his direction—a gesture that confused him, though he couldn’t begin to guess why.

"No—wait! Please!" Lloyd suddenly screamed, his voice breaking mid-plea. His hands clawed through the bars as if he could drag them back. "I'll go mad alone here! Listen to me!"  

But their steps didn’t slow.  

Their armor clanked rhythmically, their iron-shod boots striking the ground with finality. No pause. No mercy.  

Lloyd stared at their retreating backs—just as he had years ago when he abandoned his village. Just as he had when he chose to run.  

The hands gripping the bars now fell limp.  

"..."  

The last sound was the distant dungeon door slamming shut, sealing all hope.  

Lloyd drew a shaky breath, trying to calm his churning thoughts. The damp prison air sat heavy in his lungs, thick with rust and wet earth. In the silence of his cell, his mind raced through possibilities—any way to escape this fate.

If only he had stayed in that village...

The thought haunted him. Maybe if he hadn’t kept wandering, hadn’t tried to outrun his fate, he wouldn’t be here—caged by the former knight who once lived under the Frontera roof. His fists clenched, nails digging into his already scarred palms.  

His mind drifted further into the past. Javier Asrahan—now Javier Magentano is the former king’s bastard. Lloyd remembered clearly how he, as the legitimate noble heir, had always tormented the quiet Javier. Not out of hatred, but envy. That reserved boy effortlessly drew attention with his striking looks and the aura of a natural-born Alpha.  

Even if it was childish cruelty, the truth was, Lloyd never changed. While Javier rose to knighthood, he drowned in laziness and drunkenness, blaming his parents for their mounting debts.  

The bitter memories spiraled deeper. His flight from home wasn’t just shame—it was terror. The day he learned Javier had coldly beheaded two of his family’s debt collectors, Lloyd realized one thing if his former knight was erasing every trace of the Fronteras.

The Baron and Baroness Frontera had always treated Javier well—even loved him like their own. But Lloyd? Lloyd was the stain in that picture. The useless blood heir who kept shaming the family name.  

He hugged his knees tighter. The cell’s cold seeped through his thin clothes. In this darkness, it dawned on him: maybe this was always meant to happen. Karma for a coward who kept running from responsibility.  

"Hahh..."

Memories flooded Lloyd. He’d changed his identity, become a farmer in a remote village—lucky to stay unrecognized until Javier caught him.  

Finally, he slumped onto the icy prison floor, legs folding beneath him. His face twisted bitterly as he stared at the empty cell. In the end, darkness swallowed his consciousness, dragging him into uneasy dreams.

But the reprieve didn’t last. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed, followed by the overwhelming scent of Alpha pheromones that made Lloyd shiver.  

His eyes fluttered open to find Javier standing before him, arms folded behind his back—as if hiding something. But Lloyd wasn’t foolish. He knew exactly what it was.  

A whip.

"Hasn’t the Young Master rested long enough?"  

Javier’s voice sliced through the silence, cold and measured. Lloyd lifted his trembling face, lips quivering around fragmented words. "Y-Your Majesty. Greetings to Your—" His voice hitched, his tongue betraying him with titles that no longer fit the man before him. His eyes narrowed, catching Javier’s expression hardening abruptly.

"My, my, Young Master," Javier sneered, his voice dripping venom. "Why call me 'Your Majesty'?" He stepped closer, each word a knife thrust. "Didn't you once call me a 'useless orphan' who relied on his face? Or—" His breath hitched, "—a 'stupid brat' because you couldn't stand being outshone?" Every quote was a deliberately reopened wound.  

Lloyd flinched, an icy grip seizing his throat. "No, Your Majesty, I—"  

"Shut up!" Javier roared.  

The whip in his hand cracked through the air with an ear-splitting snap. Lloyd jerked violently, his entire body trembling like a dried leaf in a storm. His muscles locked, frozen in place—a rabbit caught in a serpent's gaze. Javier smiled, but it held no warmth. A lightless smile, lips stretching slowly while his eyes remained pitch black. "Now," he whispered, "let's begin today's lesson."  

With viper-quick motion, Javier swung the whip downward. The sickening tear of flesh rang out as the lash split Lloyd's arm open. Blood welled instantly, soaking his white sleeve, spreading in a crimson stain.  

"ARGHHHH!!!"  

Lloyd screamed, his voice raw with despair. His hands clawed at the floor, pale nails scraping grooves into the wood. "Stop, please!" he begged, but Javier only laughed—a low, dark sound of sadistic satisfaction.

"Still daring to beg, Young Master?" Javier hissed, raising the whip again.  

"Did you think I'd forgotten how you treated me?"  

The lash landed again—this time across Lloyd's back. His shirt split, the skin beneath splitting like overripe fruit. Lloyd bit his lip until it bled, stifling the sob fighting to burst out. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhale like knives in his lungs.  

Javier didn't stop.  

He rolled Lloyd onto his back with his boot, forcing him to face upward. Lloyd's pale, tear-streaked face was now fully exposed—red-rimmed eyes, bloody nose, lips bitten swollen.  

"Look at you now—" Javier snarled, pressing the whip's tip to Lloyd's throat. "You were so arrogant. Treated me like a worthless stray. But who holds the power today?"

The whip cracked again, striking Lloyd's chest. His ribs screamed as if fracturing, and this time, he couldn't suppress the howl that tore from his throat. His cries shattered the silence of the chamber, but Javier only smiled.  

"This is just the beginning, Young Master."  

He raised the whip again—and again, and again—each lash carving fresh wounds, each strike biting deeper, crueler. Lloyd's blood began pooling on the floor, his once-proud frame now trembling like a leaf in a storm.  

Javier finally paused—not from mercy, but because Lloyd had stopped reacting. His eyes were half-lidded, breaths shallow, body twitching weakly with every throb of pain.  

Lloyd could no longer endure the torment. His body felt crushed by invisible hands, every gasp of air like knives shredding his lungs. His vision blurred—Javier's face, once sharp with malice, now just a smudged shadow in the haze.

Blood continued to pour from the wounds covering his body, soaking the white shirt now dyed deep crimson. His hands trembled uncontrollably, muscles seizing and refusing to move. Javier's figure looming before him felt like a dark tower ready to swallow him whole.  

"It hurts..." His attempt to scream came out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible. His lips were cracked, his tongue dry as desert sand.  

Suddenly, his head felt struck by a mace—violent dizziness overwhelming him. The world began spinning, Javier's mocking voice fading into a long, hollow ringing in his ears.  

"Ah... it's over..."  

His body collapsed helplessly to the floor. Every limb refused to obey. All he could feel was the cold stone against his cheek and the darkness swallowing his vision. Before consciousness fully left him, he heard Javier murmur faintly—

"That's enough for today," Javier muttered, wiping his bloodied whip on Lloyd's torn clothes.  

He left the chamber, abandoning Lloyd in his own pooling blood—with one certainty: this wasn't over.  

"Is this... the end of everything?"

Then, only darkness remained.

Chapter Text

!! TW : VIOLENCE !! 

Lloyd groaned softly as a warm sensation slowly spread over his open wounds. The heat stung yet soothed, like morning dew touching sunburnt skin. With great effort, he pried open his heavy eyelids, his vision still blurred by lingering darkness and the pain gnawing at his body.  

Behind the dim glow flowing over him, the faint silhouette of a woman knelt at his side. Her long, silken black hair cascaded forward, nearly brushing the filthy cell floor. Her delicate hands, jarringly out of place in the squalor around them, shone softly with a golden aura, the telltale sign of healing magic at work.  

"A-ah! I glad to see you awake!"

The woman's voice was startled, slightly stammering, as if she hadn't expected Lloyd to wake. Her emerald-green eyes blinked rapidly, betraying obvious nervousness. She awkwardly shifted back, putting some distance between them, but quickly refocused on his wounds.  

"Sir, let me heal you a little longer," she said, her voice soft yet firm, like a gentle but unstoppable stream.  

Lloyd didn't respond. His throat felt shredded, dry and aching with every attempted swallow. His memories were hazy, fragments of screams echoing from the night. His honey-brown eyes darted restlessly, taking in the cell's details while searching for clues about how long he'd lain helpless.  

"It's been five days since you were imprisoned," the woman suddenly added, as if reading the confusion in his thoughts.

"Five days?" Lloyd's voice was hoarse, barely audible, but enough to make the woman nod slowly.  

Her emerald-green eyes studied him with an unreadable expression. A mix of pity, fear, and something deeper he couldn't decipher. That gaze tightened his chest. He knew exactly what it meant.

He was a condemned man, a prisoner with a sealed fate, and all she could offer was fleeting comfort before the inevitable end.  

The golden glow from her hands gradually dimmed, leaving only warmth lingering on Lloyd's skin. He exhaled slowly, feeling each wound—once raw and gaping—now knit together, replaced by tender new flesh. The whip marks on his back, the gashes on his arms, even the abrasions from shackles at his wrists. All healed without a scar.  

She withdrew her hands carefully, then scrutinized Lloyd. Her spring-leaf-green eyes swept over every inch of him, ensuring no injury remained.

"Does anything still hurt?" she asked again, her voice gentle yet attentive.  

Lloyd nodded slowly, his right hand reflexively rubbing his own neck. His throat still felt dry and raw, burning from the inside. The pain reminded him of those long nights when he'd been forced to scream until his voice gave out.  

He tried to move his lips, wanting to say his throat still ached, but only a hoarse breath escaped. The girl understood instantly, her eyes brightening with realization.  

"Your throat," she murmured, more to herself. Without hesitation, her hands glowed again—this time with a cooler, bluer light. She extended her slender fingers toward Lloyd's neck, not touching but close enough for her healing energy to work.  

Lloyd felt something cold and soothing flow through his throat, like gulping fresh water under scorching heat. Gradually, the fiery discomfort began to fade.

Despite the growing relief, one question nagged at Lloyd’s mind. Who is this girl? And why would she bother healing a prisoner clearly marked by the king?  

Slowly, he shifted his weakened body, attempting to sit up. His trembling hands pressed against the cold cell floor, struggling to push himself upright. The girl immediately caught his arm, supporting him with surprising strength for someone so slight.  

"Thank you." Lloyd rasped, his voice still rough but clearer now. His exhausted eyes searched her face, looking for answers behind this stranger’s sudden kindness.  

"It’s nothing," she replied with a small smile. "I'm just a royal witch who will doing what I can."

A royal witch. Lloyd studied her attire—a long, dark blue robe embroidered with white at the edges, a neat leather belt, and boots that remained spotless despite the dungeon’s filth. Everything spoke of official status. Her healing power, too, was extraordinary. In mere minutes, the pain that had gnawed at him for days had nearly vanished.  

The green-eyed girl handed Lloyd two pieces of bread, which he devoured instantly. She patted his back, urging him to slow down.  

After finishing the meal and gulping down a large glass of water, Lloyd stared at her curiously.  

"What’s your name?" he asked, curiosity overpowering his instinct to stay silent.  

The girl raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to something between disappointment and amusement. "Siluria, my lord. Have you truly forgotten me?"

Lloyd frowned, digging through his memories. The name sounded familiar, but her face...  

"Siluria ... Namaran?"  

A spark of joy suddenly lit Siluria's eyes. "Exactly!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement. "We interacted several times during banquets! I always wanted to speak more with you, Lord Lloyd, though I never got the chance before You ... slipped away from the parties!"  

Lloyd stiffened. Now he remembered. This girl was one of the many young nobles who had tried approaching him at official events—events he'd always avoided by drinking too much wine and sneaking off.  

Siluria's face flushed as she continued, "I used to watch you from afar. You always seemed... different from the others." Her words faltered briefly before she whispered, "And now, seeing you like this..."

Her voice broke, and for the first time, Lloyd realized just how deeply this girl had cared—attention he'd dismissed without a second thought.  

"But wasn’t Namaran nearly destroyed by that rebellion months ago?" he asked, his hoarse voice still rough.  

His mind flashed to rumors he’d heard in the village—of chaos erupting after a demonic summoning in Namaran. So many had died, nobles and commoners alike.  

Siluria exhaled sharply. Her fingers, which had been fidgeting with the hem of her blue robe, went still.  

"Ah, yes." she said quietly, her gaze empty as it fixed on the damp cell wall.

"I deeply regret that my father was among the victims of that tragedy." Her voice trembled faintly, but she quickly steadied herself. "Fortunately, His Majesty saved me and made me one of the royal mages. At the same time, I had to rebuild my nearly destroyed territory—though it took months."  

Lloyd felt as if he'd been slapped. Guilt gnawed at his chest.  

"My condolences. I'm sorry for reminding you of such painful memories," he said, bowing his head.  

What happened next caught him completely off guard.  

Siluria stared at him with disbelief, even letting out a soft chuckle.  

"Did I say something wrong?" Lloyd asked, confused.  

"So the rumors calling you trash weren't true after all," Siluria murmured, her eyes shining strangely. "You're much better than what people say."  

Lloyd's face burned crimson, heat spreading from his neck to the tips of his ears.

"Is it wrong to mourn someone's death?" he retorted, trying to salvage what remained of his dignity.  

"No," Siluria answered, now smiling meaningfully. "It’s just... you’re softer than you appear."  

"Stop... please..."  

Lloyd turned his face away, but it was too late. His flushed cheeks were unmistakable even in the dim prison light. Siluria couldn’t suppress a small laugh, her clear voice echoing in the cramped space.  

"Don’t laugh!" Lloyd protested, which only amused her more.  

For a moment—behind cold iron bars, in a place meant for despair—an odd warmth bloomed between them. A lightness that shouldn’t exist here, yet did.

"But why would a royal mage like you come here? Did Javier send you?" Lloyd asked once Siluria's laughter faded.  

"..."  

Siluria fell silent. The atmosphere grew tense as her expression dimmed with sadness—as if confirming his guess.  

"What's the reason?" Lloyd pressed.  

"I was simply following His Majesty's orders," Siluria admitted. "But ... I truly wanted to heal you."  

Lloyd said nothing. Javier’s plan was clear. He wants to torture him endlessly, then have Siluria patch him up, only to repeat the cycle.  

The stifling prison air grew heavier. Lloyd struggled for words. "Siluria, why would you—"  

But before he could finish, heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor. Siluria tensed instantly, her face paling.  

"His Majesty is coming," she whispered urgently.  

Lloyd's blood turned to ice. The inevitable confrontation had arrived.

The heavy footsteps echoing through the dungeon corridor stopped abruptly outside the cell. The iron door creaked open slowly, revealing a tall, imposing figure standing at the threshold. Javier Asrahan—now known as Javier Magentano—stood with an air of terrifying authority. His deep blue eyes, cold as the ocean depths, swept across the room, flickering from Siluria still kneeling beside Lloyd before settling on his weakened prisoner.  

"Leave."

Just one word. A single command, flat yet laced with threat. Siluria trembled but nodded quickly, bowing her head deeply. Before slipping out, her green eyes met Lloyd’s one last time—a glance heavy with unspoken prayers.  

The door clanged shut behind her, the sound final as a coffin sealing. Javier stepped forward, and in his black-gloved hand, he gripped the whip Lloyd knew too well—its leather stained with dried blood, its fibers frayed from use. Lloyd’s pulse spiked.  

At the sight of it, his entire body shook. Memories flooded back: unbearable pain, torn flesh, his own screams ringing through the night.

Without a word, Javier's cold blue eyes shifted to the iron chains hanging on the cell wall. A faint smirk curled his lips—one that turned Lloyd's blood to ice. In one swift motion, Javier seized Lloyd's arm and dragged him toward the wall.

"No—wait!" Lloyd croaked.

Futile. His thin wrists were wrenched upward and shackled to the chains, leaving his weakened body dangling against the wall like hunted prey. His feet barely scraped the ground, every slight movement only tightening the metal's bite on his already raw skin.

Lloyd's honey-brown eyes widened in terror. He twisted his hands, straining against the restraints, but the chains held firm. His breaths turned shallow, chest heaving rapidly.

And then—  

"ARGHHHH!!!"

A raw scream tore through the cell as the whip cracked against Lloyd's back. White-hot pain lanced through him—skin splitting, fresh blood dripping onto the cold stone below.

Javier didn't stop.  

The whip cracked again—and again—each strike carving fresh crimson lines across Lloyd's already ravaged body. Every lash drew weaker, more broken sounds from him, his screams fading to ragged gasps.  

Through the haze of pain, Lloyd still saw it: Javier's smile. Terrifying. Satisfied. As if savoring every second of this torment.  

And Lloyd knew—this was just the beginning.  

The mad king wasn't done with him.  

Not yet.

... 

"ARGH!"

Another scream shattered the cell's silence, followed by the whip's vicious crack against already torn skin. Each strike ignited fire across Lloyd's flesh, blood spraying onto stone walls scarred by past prisoners' despair.  

His face—once faintly colored—was now parchment-pale. Cracked lips trembled, but no words came. Blood oozed from open wounds, dripping onto cold stone in dark pools. His breaths were shallow, ragged—each gasp a struggle.  

"Tch."

Javier's tongue clicked sharply in the stifling air. His blue eyes raked over Lloyd's limp, chained form. Days of this had worn him down. The man who once thrashed, begged, even fought back now a little silent—his thin body swaying weakly with each lash like a threadbare doll.  

Javier studied him closely. No more pleading screams, no desperate sobs for mercy. Just weak moans and hollow stares into nothingness. As if Lloyd had surrendered completely to his fate as a living target.

But this very passiveness made Javier's lips press into a thin line. His teeth ground softly, frustration gnawing at him.  

No. It can't be this easy. 

His mind raced for a way to shatter that numbness. Then—an idea. Something crueler, more devastating, something that would demolish Lloyd's last shreds of dignity completely.  

Javier stepped closer, his face mere inches from Lloyd's limp form. His warm breath ghosted over Lloyd's cold, sweat-and-blood-slicked skin.  

"You think this is over?" he whispered, voice low yet razor-edged. "You think silence will make me stop?"  

His gloved hand seized Lloyd's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Lloyd's hollow gaze slowly focused, and for the first time in days, Javier saw something deeper than physical pain flicker in them—a glimpse of raw, primal fear.  

And that made Javier smile.

With a rough jerk, Javier unlocked the manacles binding Lloyd's wrists. The heavy metal clattered to the ground, leaving behind angry red rings on Lloyd's pale skin. Lloyd's face twisted in confusion, his honey-brown eyes narrowing warily at Javier. What fresh cruelty was this? 

But before he could process further, Javier dragged his weakened body forward. Their footsteps echoed through the long corridor leading upward, each step making Lloyd's pulse spike.  

As they reached the tower's peak, a fierce wind whipped against Lloyd's sweat-damp face. Javier shoved him mercilessly against the icy stone railing.  

"Your Majesty! Let me go— ugh—"  

Lloyd's protest choked off as Javier's hand clamped around his throat from behind. The pressure made his vision swim, breath hitching. From this pinned position, he could see everything below—the sprawling royal gardens, the fountains like tiny dots, the winding paths snaking like serpents. The dizzying height turned his stomach, his knees shaking violently.

"Well? Are you finally scared?" Javier's voice hissed in his ear—warm yet laced with threat.  

Lloyd couldn't lie. His body betrayed him more honestly than words ever could. His head nodded frantically, his already pale face draining further of color. Trembling hands clawed at the stone ledge, nails nearly breaking, as if it were the only thing keeping him from the deadly drop below.  

Javier drank in every reaction with gleaming satisfaction. But then—swift as a viper—he yanked Lloyd back from the edge only to shove him hard onto the tower floor.  

Instinct took over. Lloyd's thin body scrambled up, and before Javier could react, he was already running, down shadowed corridors, spiraling staircases, with one desperate goal:  

Escape.

Javier didn't chase. He remained at the tower's peak, a faint smile curling his usually cold lips. In his ice-blue eyes, the tiny figure of Lloyd—stumbling blindly—was reflected like prey in a predator's gaze.

"Run, Lloyd," he whispered to the wind. "Run as far as you can."  

Because he knew—there was no safe place left for Lloyd in this kingdom. And the hunt... had only just begun.  

Javier descended the cold stone steps slowly, each footfall deliberate as a stalking cat. His ocean-deep eyes traced the blood droplets smeared across the stairs—crimson breadcrumbs leading to his prey. The black whip dragged lazily in his gloved hand, its metal-tipped end scraping the stone with a chilling echo through the empty halls.  

Meanwhile, Lloyd ran breathlessly through the castle's opposite wing. His chest heaved irregularly, sweat and blood streaking his temples. Wild eyes darted down endless corridors, but every door was locked, every window barred.  

Stranger still were the guards. Some crossed paths with him directly—yet they stood frozen, faces blank, as if he were a ghost not worth catching. No shouts. No chase. Only hollow stares trailing him until he vanished around corners.

Suddenly, his ears caught it. 

Footsteps. Heavy. Closer.  

Lloyd's pulse spiked, blood roaring with terror. He veered sharply down another corridor, desperate for an exit, only for fate to laugh.  

A towering stone wall blocked the path. A dead end.  

"No..." His whisper was raw with despair.  

He spun to flee—but too late.  

At the corridor's shadowed mouth stood a tall figure, black coat flaring. The whip in Javier's hand swayed gently—a pendulum counting down to doom.  

"N-no! Please!" Lloyd collapsed to his knees, the impact jarring his bones. Trembling hands clutched at Javier's cloak. "Get me out of that cursed cell, Your Majesty! I'll go mad if I stay there another second!"  

Tears streaked through the blood on his broken face. The pride he'd once clung to—the arrogance of nobility, the Frontera name—was dust now. He was lower than dirt, more wretched than a stray.

A terrible smile stretched across Javier's lips as he took in the sight before him—Lloyd Frontera, the arrogant noble who'd once looked down on him, now groveling on the floor like a beaten dog. The polished black toe of his boot hovered inches from Lloyd's trembling fingers.  

"Get up."

The command was flat yet unshakable. Slowly, painfully, Lloyd staggered to his feet. His thin frame swayed unsteadily, like a dried leaf in the wind. When he finally knelt upright, he stared up at Javier—his dull brown eyes meeting that hated blue gaze, once mocked but now burning with bottomless contempt.  

"Your noble legs seem eager for a noble's chamber again?" Javier taunted, voice icy in the cramped space.  

Lloyd stayed silent, jaw locked. Any word felt like fuel to the fire. His fists clenched at his sides, dirty nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood.  

"Shall we use this room, then?"

Javier gestured to a door beside them. Lloyd's face drained of all remaining color, turning corpse-pale. He knew—that room wasn’t shelter, but a new torture chamber.  

Before he could protest, Javier's gloved hand seized his arm with bone-grinding force, dragging him inside.  

The room was empty—except for a plush bed and a few pieces of furniture.  

The whip cracked through the air before splitting Lloyd’s already wounded arm open. Fresh blood welled instantly. Lloyd screamed, his voice raw and broken. Pain lanced through every nerve like wildfire.  

The world spun before his eyes, colors fading to gray. His faltering consciousness finally gave way. Before darkness swallowed him whole, one final thought flickered─

This room would become his living tomb.  

His limp body hit the floor, stirring small clouds of dust. Javier loomed over him, whip still in hand, a victorious smile carved onto his face.  

Outside, the shadows of guards retreated. None dared intervene.  

And in that empty room, only silence bore witness to the endless cruelty.

Chapter Text

Tw : ⚠️ GR4PE ⚠️

Lloyd stared blankly at the floor, expressionless. He'd refused all meals brought to him today, even when Siluria came to check on him. His appetite had vanished completely since being confined to this room. Though given decent quarters, the endless cycle of Javier's torture and Siluria's healing had broken him.  

Three months had passed. Three months without fresh air, without direct sunlight. The iron shackles chaining his ankles to the bedframe left him utterly immobilized—a prisoner in this gilded cage. Javier often mocked him, comparing him to a chained dog.

But lately, Javier hadn't visited to torment him. Servants took turns delivering meals event he didn't touch.  

Though he didn't miss that mad bastard's torture sessions, a sliver of suspicion crept in. Lloyd shook his head, forcing himself to think positively.

The palace square's clock chimed nine times, signaling bedtime. Fortunately, Javier hadn't come to torment him tonight. Lloyd remembered if Siluria had mentioned he was busy lately.  

A faint smile touched Lloyd's lips as he confirmed Javier wouldn't disturb him. He lay down, pulling the blanket up to his chin before turning onto his side to sleep.

Yet no matter how much time passed, sleep eluded Lloyd. Restlessness gnawed at him, stretching each second into eternity. Minutes later, his sharp ears caught heavy footsteps approaching. His vacant stare toward the barred window snapped into focus as the door creaked open, shattering the room's silence.  

Slowly, Lloyd turned his head. His chest tightened at Javier's imposing silhouette framed in the doorway, perfectly outlined by the corridor's dim light. Any thought of protest died instantly when the overpowering scent of Alpha pheromones assaulted his senses. Javier's shadowed face promised nothing good—tonight wasn't just another torture session, but something far more sinister.

Lloyd scrambled off the bed with a shudder, his body instinctively retreating until his back hit the corner wall. His breathing turned shallow and erratic as he watched Javier raise a hand, smoothly locking the door with a silencing spell. The magical mechanism's ominous click echoed loudly in Lloyd's ears.  

Javier's thickening pheromones flooded the room, making Lloyd cough violently. His eyes watered, his throat burning from the oppressive Alpha dominance meant only for an Omega mate. Each breath felt torturous, as if the air itself had turned to poison slowly paralyzing him.

Javier advanced, each footstep on the wooden floor tightening the space between predator and prey. A thin smile revealed sharp canines.

Visual cue that made Lloyd feel impossibly small and helpless.  

With a rough yank, Javier seized Lloyd's wrist and flung his thin frame onto the bed. The weakened Omega scrambled backward toward the headboard, but froze when Javier suddenly buried his face in his neck. Every press of the Alpha's lips left red marks on Lloyd's pale skin, branding him inch by inch.

Lloyd who no longer a child—instantly recognized the situation. Javier was clearly in rut, that biological cycle driving Alphas to claim and breed their mates through primal instinct. Lloyd's breath hitched, a mix of shame, fear, and unrestrained panic flooding him.  

Every attempt to resist was effortlessly crushed. With one sharp tug, Javier shredded Lloyd's clothes into worthless rags, leaving his trembling body fully exposed. His unblemished skin, smooth and no scars, now lay completely bare before the Alpha.

Lloyd's terror peaked at the predatory gleam in Javier's eyes—dark with lust and dominance. Each of the Alpha's ragged breaths released thicker pheromones, making Lloyd's head swim.  

Javier sank his teeth into Lloyd's shoulder repeatedly, behaving like a typical rut-driven Alpha. Lloyd twisted away, struggling to push Javier's head back, only to be thwarted each time. Every bite marked him as claimed property, branding him for all to see.

With movements mirroring a primal Alpha's instincts, Javier repeatedly bit into Lloyd's shoulder, leaving deep marks on the Omega's pale skin. Lloyd fought back with all his strength, twisting his head to evade, but each attempt was effortlessly overpowered by Javier's superior strength. Every bite served as a claiming mark, deliberately placed for all to see that Lloyd belonged to him.  

Lloyd knew full well Javier never intended to sire offspring with any Omega. Rumors he'd overheard whispered of the King's uncontrollable brutality toward Omegas—some even dying by his hand when deemed worthless.

When his gaze caught the open window across the room, a desperate thought seized Lloyd—better to fall and shatter on the hard ground below than endure Javier's endless madness. Summoning his last strength, he kicked Javier's shoulder hard and bolted toward what he hoped would be freedom.  

But Javier was faster. His iron grip closed around Lloyd's ankle just as the Omega reached the window. A brutal yank sent Lloyd crashing to the marble floor, his head striking the surface with a sickening crack. The world spun violently, his vision swimming as sharp pain radiated from his skull through his entire body.

Javier loomed over him, breathing heavily, his usually cold blue eyes now filled with terrifying rage. His large hand fisted in Lloyd's hair, yanking the Omega's head up until their faces were inches apart.  

Lloyd's head spun, overwhelmed by unbearable dizziness. Javier's signature mint scent assaulted his senses, shattering what little remained of his fragile sanity. His breaths came in ragged gasps, chest heaving irregularly, while his vision swam from the earlier impact.

Javier showed no mercy. With movements full of intensity, he suckled Lloyd's nipples that were stiffening with stimulation. An unstoppable moan escaped Lloyd's paled lips. His trembling hands tried to push Javier's head away, trying to keep the Alpha away from his vulnerable body, but his efforts were futile. Javier's strength was far beyond his abilities.

The chains on Lloyd's legs rattled with his every restless movement. The sound of metal scraping against metal accompanied the growing discomfort, while Javier continued to toy with his body mercilessly. Every touch of the Alpha's tongue felt like an electric shock, every little bite left a deep mark, and every suction on a sensitive spot made Lloyd's body tense up even more.

Javier is relentless, moving from part to part, exploring every inch of Lloyd's body with soaring lust.

Lloyd tries to look away, trying to find another focal point to take his mind off this biological torture. However, every time he tried to resist, Javier only increased the intensity, making Lloyd's entire body tremble between pain and unwanted sensations.

Lloyd bit his lip until it almost bled, trying to hold back every reaction his body had. But Javier's constant stimulation through his skillful stroking and tongue play on his nipples finally broke down the Omega's last line of defense.

A long moan escaped Lloyd's throat, his normally suppressed voice now breaking out in an unstoppable climax.

His entire body arched stiffly in an instant, his fingers gripping the sheet tightly until it wrinkled. His breathing became ragged, irregular, while his chest rose and fell rapidly.

The tears he had been holding back finally streamed down his reddened cheeks. Amidst the shame that enveloped him, Lloyd felt how his limp body was reacting beyond his conscious control─a biological betrayal of the resistance he had been maintaining.

Lloyd groaned in helplessness as Javier roughly undid his pants. A hard, blunt object touched his intimate parts that were already damp from the constant stimulation and the effects of Javier's pheromones that filled the room. His skin crawled, his breath came in short gasps, while his heart raced like it was about to explode.

With a stiff movement, Lloyd tipped his head down. His glazed eyes caught a sight that made his blood seem to freeze─Javier's fully erect sex organ, with a size far beyond the average, hanging large between the Alpha's thighs. Its size larger than a grown man's wrist was clearly unnatural.

“So Bi-big ... It won't fit-”

Lloyd's voice broke, his face paled instantly. His instincts screamed to fight, to escape, but before he could react, Javier was already crushing him with all his weight.

And then─

Lloyd's world seemed to split apart.

With one powerful thrust, Javier forced his way in. The unbearable pain made Lloyd widen his eyes wide. His mouth opened in a choked gasp, but no sound came out other than a short, broken hiss. His hands gripped the sheets with nails that nearly pierced the fabric, while his chained feet shook uncontrollably.

Javier gives her no time to adapt. The long, deep strokes began immediately, each thrust seeming to want to penetrate even deeper. Lloyd felt every inch of his body being pulled and stretched beyond its limits. Tears streamed down his already pale cheeks, while small, uncontrollable sounds escaped his trembling lips.

Amidst the excruciating pain, Lloyd could still see Javier's expression. The face that was usually cold and in control now changed completely. His deep blue eyes were filled with the darkness of lust, his lips that were usually grinning sarcastically were now wide open letting out a heavy sigh.

“AHHHH!!!”

Lloyd screamed loudly, his hoarse voice echoing throughout the room. The unbearable pain made his entire body stiffen, his muscles hardening like steel. His forcibly stretched intimate parts were as if they were about to tear, risking the last frontier of his sanity.

With what strength he had left, Lloyd tried to press Javier's body with his trembling legs, hoping to restrict the Alpha's movements. However, Javier easily spread Lloyd's legs even wider, completely dominating the Omega's body position.

“Hnghhh...!!!”

Mercilessly, Javier starts moving at an irregular tempo. Sometimes slow and deep, sometimes fast and rough. Each thrust felt like it was crushing Lloyd from the inside, leaving him gasping between the pain and the unfamiliar sensations that forced him to react biologically.

Lloyd's tears welled up, soaking his already pale cheeks. His hands gripped the sheet beneath him tightly, his pale nails nearly tearing the fabric. Each breath was short and labored, as if the air in the room was getting thinner.

Javier, above him, showed no signs of stopping. Javier's expression was animal─like as his eyes were filled with lust, his thin lips sometimes hardened, sometimes parted to let out a heavy hiss of breath. His movements were getting more and more uncontrollable, as if he was chasing something that only he knew.

Lloyd closed his eyes tightly, trying to escape into his own mind. However, Javier's every touch, every movement, kept pulling him back to this horrible reality. The reality where his body was being raped by the man he hated.

"IT HURTS─ NGH! P-please, Javier...! Stop! Ah! I ... Ah! Will die─ NGHH!!!"

Lloyd's voice broke in a series of stuttering moans. Every word that escaped his trembling lips was filled with pain and desperation. His weak hands tried to push against Javier's chest, but the Alpha's rock-like body didn't move at all. Lloyd's originally pale face was now losing color, like wax melting under the endless torture.

Javier completely ignored the plea. His normally clear blue eyes were now darkened by a haze of biological lust. His Alpha instincts had completely taken control, burying the remnants of his human sanity under the primal urge to claim and dominate.

“NGHHH?!”

Lloyd is shocked when suddenly a strange sensation electrifies his entire body. Javier precisely finds and continuously stimulates a sensitive spot that had been hidden, creating a wave of stimulation that makes Lloyd's muscles twitch beyond his control.

Lloyd's facial expression changed from pain to deep confusion. His moist eyes widened, not expecting his body to react like this in the midst of his torment. Each of Javier's thrusts now created a contradiction of flavors-piercing pain mixed with unexpected pleasure that forced weak sounds to continue escaping his lips.

Lloyd's initially rigid body resisting now began to show the Omega's natural reaction. His legs hanging in the air trembled uncontrollably, while his hand that was originally pushing away now unconsciously gripped Javier's arm. Tears continued to stream down his flushed cheeks, soaking the pillow under his head.

Above him, Javier observes every change in Lloyd's expression with terrible satisfaction. His breathing was heavy, his movements increasingly irregular, as if he was racing against time to reach his own peak of pleasure.

Lloyd tried to cover his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle the embarrassing sounds that kept being forced out. But Javier easily caught his wrist and gripped it tightly, making sure the Omega's every reaction was clearly heard in the room.

Lloyd screamed in a hoarse voice, "Stop ...! Stop it ...! I will─ ahh!" But Javier paid no heed to his pleas. The Alpha's hips continued to move with an unforgiving rhythm, pushing Lloyd's already limp body to climax for the second time.

Lloyd's entire body shook violently, his muscles tightening in agonizing post-orgasmic convulsions. His pale skin was now covered in cold sweat, while his breath came in gasps like a beached fish. His glassy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to comprehend how his body could continue to react despite being on the brink of pain.

But Javier did not stop. His powerful hip movements continued, creating sensations that were too much for Lloyd who was still extremely sensitive post orgasm. Weak moans continued to escape Lloyd's chapped lips, his voice hoarse and full of desperation.

"Javier─ I... Ngh! just came- ahhh!" Lloyd tried to protest, but his words were cut off by a deep thrust that made his whole body shake. His weak hands gripped the sheets tightly, trying to find a grip amidst the unrelenting storm of stimulation.

On top of him, Javier looks even wilder. Drops of sweat ran down his temples, while his heavy breathing echoed in Lloyd's ears. His every move was now deeper, more intense, as if he was chasing something only he knew.

Lloud closed his eyes tightly, the tears continuing to flow unabated.

Without warning, Javier's hands gripped Lloyd's hips tightly with painful force. The Alpha's hip movements suddenly became rougher and irregular, each stroke deeper and more agonizing. Lloyd screamed out loud when he felt the change in size inside his body, a sensation that made his heart pound in fear.

"No! Javier...! Please- nghh! Stop- mphhhh?!!" Lloyd pleaded in a broken voice, realizing with horror what was about to happen next. His eyes widened wide, filled with unstoppable panic.

Suddenly, Javier caught Lloyd's face with a rough hand and kissed him forcefully. The Alpha's tongue tried to break through, but Lloyd stubbornly held his lips together. Javier's expression turned annoyed, and without hesitation he bit Lloyd's lower lip until it hurt.

“Ah─” Lloyd groaned, his mouth opening in unexpected pain.

This was the opportunity Javier had been waiting for. Quickly his tongue slipped in, taking full possession of Lloyd's oral cavity. The kiss was deep and dominant, as if to assert absolute ownership over every part of the Omega. Javier's one hand kept a firm grip on Lloyd's hip, while the other held the back of the Omega's head, ensuring there was no escape.

Lloyd tried to fight back, his hands pushing weakly against Javier's chest, but it was in vain.

Lloyd choked, chest tight from the dwindling air supply. His trembling hands pushed Javier's head with all their strength, but the Alpha remained unmoved, continuing to dominate his mouth with a deep, biting kiss. When Javier finally broke the kiss, Lloyd was breathing heavily, his face flushed from lack of oxygen.

Without pause, Javier switches to nuzzling Lloyd's neck, his tongue tracing the line of tense tendons. As Javier's sharp teeth dug into Lloyd's shoulder, the Alpha moaned loudly, his body shaking violently before finally climaxing.

Lloyd gasped, his eyes rounding as he felt a torrent of hot liquid fill his inner cavity. The volume was so much that not a drop came out, making his stomach feel full and heavy. Lloyd held his breath, his body stiffening under the unfamiliar sensation that forced him to realize how deep this penetration was.

Javier was still biting Lloyd's shoulder, his moans slowly subsiding into heavy sighs. The Alpha's big hands gripped Lloyd's hips tightly, holding the Omega's body in place, as if unwilling to let go of this intimate relationship even after it was over.

Beneath him, Lloyd could only stare, feeling how Javier's still-warm juices slowly seeped deeper. His stifled tears finally fell, wetting his flushed cheeks.

Lloyd's stomach twitched with cramps, sharp stabbing pains as Javier's sex organ continued to pour hot liquid into his body. A whimpering sound escaped his parched throat, while Javier's bite on his shoulder deepened-a clear sign that the Alpha wasn't quite done yet.

Moments later, Lloyd's legs began to shake uncontrollably. His stomach burned, filled with a foreign liquid that continued to fill his innermost cavity. With trembling hands, Lloyd tried to push Javier's shoulders, his limp body trying to signal that this was enough. His breath was ragged, his lungs seemingly running out of air. Luckily, Javier didn't tie him up with knots or bite his pheromone glands.

However, instead of breaking free, Javier suddenly flipped Lloyd's body roughly, forcing him into an upright position without releasing his penetration.

“No─ wait─”

Lloyd's protest was cut short when Javier moved his hips again. This new position felt deeper, more agonizing. Each of Javier's thrusts now grazed a sensitive spot inside that made Lloyd crawl forward reflexively, trying to escape the overly intense sensation.

But Javier easily followed his movements, sturdy hands gripping Lloyd's hips and holding him in place. The next thrust was stronger, deeper, forcing a scream of pain out of Lloyd's mouth.

Lloyd's chin was clenched tightly, tears streaming down his face. He was completely helpless, forced to give in to Javier's every whim. Each of his breaths was now short and labored, while his body broke out in a cold sweat, succumbing to the cruel rhythm set by the Alpha.

And Javier shows no sign of stopping. His movements are becoming more and more irregular, more and more wild, as if he's chasing something only he knows ─ a final claim on the Omega's tattered body and soul.

... 

Lloyd groaned weakly, his voice hoarse and exhausted. His limp body was no longer able to respond, even though Javier continued to move relentlessly behind him. Exhaustion enveloped his every muscle after being forced to climax repeatedly, while the Alpha didn't seem to have found his satisfaction at all since the position change.

Time seemed to lose its meaning. Lloyd could no longer estimate how long they had been in this position. Minutes? Hours? All he felt was endless torment, treatment more befitting an animal than a human. His consciousness began to blur, hazy thoughts flashing through about how he was degraded to the most primal level.

Behind him, Javier was still busy with his ritual of mastery. His sharp teeth continued to dig into various parts of Lloyd's body, leaving deep red marks along the Omega's pale skin. Each bite was followed by a hiss of hot breath, each hand grip leaving bruises that would last for days.

Lloyd closed his eyes, trying to separate his mind from his body that was being treated so cruelly. But the physical sensations kept pulling him back to an unbearable reality. The stabbing heat, the unrelenting pressure, and the heavy weight on his back that made every breath painful.

Lloyd gasped loudly when he felt the change in Javier's suddenly enlarged sex organ again. His hands gripped the sheets tightly, his pale nails digging into the fabric. But he was wrong-this wasn't just a preparation for an ordinary climax.

His stomach rebelled, a wave of unbearable nausea washing over him when he realized what Javier was trying to do. Javier was preparing the knots, the Alpha biological mechanism that would physically lock them together. Lloyd's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking in panic.

"NO! STOP─ NGH! PLEASE DON'T─ AHHHH!!!"

His voice broke into a high-pitched scream as he felt Javier's organs expand to unnatural sizes, stretching his body beyond its limits. His neck stiffened, veins clearly visible under the pale skin. The unbelievable pain made he almost pass out─as if he bottom was literally about to be ripped apart by this oversized penetration.

But Javier showed no mercy. His hip movements still didn't slow down, instead they grew deeper and stronger, ignoring the blood that began to flow between his groin, which was scarred from moving too hard. The Alpha's face contorted in ecstasy, his gaze blank with the fog of primal instinct.

Lloud tried to crawl away, but the knots that began to form kept him stuck in place. Every little movement only added to the unbearable pain. His trembling hands tried to push Javier's body away, but the effort was futile.

His tears were flowing freely, soaking the crumpled sheets, while his breathing was labored.

Lloyd's consciousness began to blur, his vision foggy, but Javier showed no concern. A low growl escaped the Alpha's throat, reminiscent of the sound of a wild animal claiming its prey. With a movement full of intensity, Javier traced Lloyd's nape with his nose, searching for the exact location where the Omega's pheromone glands were located.

When he found it, Javier unhesitatingly sank his sharp fangs right into the gland. Lloyd instantly stiffened, a heartbreaking scream of pain breaking from his already swollen lips. Fresh blood immediately oozed from the bite wound, dripping profusely down Lloyd's pale skin before falling off and leaving a red stain on the sheets beneath them.

Javier still didn't let go of the bite, as if hypnotized by the scent of Lloyd's pheromones that were now thick with blood. His growls grew louder, deeper, like an animal experiencing the peak of its primal instincts.

“HNGHHHH─”

It was at that moment that the final climax hit Javier. With a hoarse groan, his burly body shook violently as he released his biological fluid back into Lloyd. The torrent was so heavy that Lloyd's already full belly looked slightly bulging, emphasizing how much liquid was being forced into the Omega's body.

For Lloyd, the world seemed to collapse. An overwhelming dizziness pierced his head, black dots began to fill his vision. His exhausted and depleted body finally gave up. His consciousness drifted, taking him away from this horrifying reality-the only escape left from the unbearable torment.

And when darkness finally enveloped him, Lloyd's limp body could only lie helpless, still bound by the Alpha's knots, with blood and biological fluids littering his bite-marked skin.

. . . 

Lloyd jolted awake from his sleep, breath coming in short gasps, body drenched in cold sweat. The memories of last night hit his mind like a tidal wave, making his chest tight. As he tried to sit up, a sharp pain suddenly struck his hip, forcing him to groan in pain. His head was dizzy, his stomach was queasy, and the world around him seemed to be spinning.

Trembling, Lloyd tried to get up from the bed, looking for a handrail to support his weak body. Legs still shackled in chains crunched with every step he took towards the bathroom. The pain in his lower body intensified, stabbing with an intensity that made his eyes glaze over.

Before reaching the sink, his knees suddenly couldn't take the weight anymore. Lloyd fell, his outstretched arms unable to hold his body as it collapsed onto the marble floor. However, the nausea in his throat forced him to get up again. With his remaining strength, he clung to the wall, trying to drag himself closer to the toilet.

But fate would have it differently. Weak legs gave out again, and Lloyd fell for a second time, collapsing on the cold floor. That's when he felt something warm flow between his thighs.

With slow movements, Lloyd looked back. His eyes widened when he saw a thick white liquid mixed with red flowing from his body, staining the clean marble floor. An unstoppable sense of disgust seized him, and before he could contain it, his stomach rebelled.

Lloyd leaned forward, vomiting the entire contents of his stomach onto the bathroom floor. His body shook violently, tears flowed freely, while shame and humiliation burned through his entire being.

Lloyd sat transfixed on the cold bathroom floor, his body shivering violently. A thick white stream mixed with blood continued to flow from his intimate parts, creating a puddle on the shiny marble surface. His tears flowed freely, soaking his cheeks that were already pale from last night's agony.

With hands shaking uncontrollably, Lloyd slowly fingered his own lower body. Every touch was painful, but he had to expel the remnants of the foreign liquid that was still trapped inside. His breath came in short gasps, his face contorted with the nausea that continued to rumble in his stomach.

As his cold fingers came into contact with the swollen and injured area, a short moan escaped he's chapped lips. The thick liquid slowly oozed out, mixing with droplets of fresh blood that made her stomach turn nauseous. A pungent iron smell filled the air, reminding him of the violence he had just experienced.

In that quiet corner of the bathroom, Lloyd looked like a broken man. His once sturdy body now drooped weakly, his once proud soul now torn to shreds. The dripping water from the leaky faucet echoed like the ticking of a clock, counting every second of his endless suffering.

And when there was finally nothing more to be expelled, he's hands covered in the foreign liquid fell limply beside his body. His head bowed, the tears continued to fall, merging with the puddles on the floor.

A symbol of the pride that had dissolved away.

Lloyd stood trembling before the bathroom mirror, his bloodshot eyes staring at his tattered reflection. Every inch of his skin was covered in deep, bluish-red bite marks, forming horrific patterns all over his pale body. The figure in the mirror looked alien─like an animal that had just gone through a forced mating process, rather than the human she once knew.

With stiff movements, Lloyd grabbed a large bucket of cold water. Without caring about the stabbing pain in his hip, he poured the water all over his body. Droplets of water ran down the wounded skin, carrying with them some of the fluid and blood that still clung to it. When his gaze returned to the mirror, the marks of violence were still clearly visible, as if mocking his attempts to clean himself up.

Lloyd clenched his teeth. His wet hands rubbed his skin roughly, especially the area with Javier's bite marks. His skin was reddened from the friction, but the marks didn't go away. Then, his awareness was drawn to the nape of his neck─the worst part, where Javier had left bite claims.

His fingers touched the area carefully. As soon as he realized his own scent had mixed with Javier's, a deep sense of disgust washed over him. Without thinking, his sharp nails clawed at his own nape with full force. Fresh blood immediately flowed, mixing with the water that was still soaking his body. The pain it caused almost knocked him out, but Lloyd kept at it-deeper, stronger-as if he wanted to scratch down to the bone.

After a while, with a gasp, Lloyd rinsed his body again. The running water was now pink from the mixing of blood and water. When he looked in the mirror once more, what he saw were horrific scratches, covering most of Javier's bite marks. 

But behind the reflection, Lloyd's empty eyes held a bitter understanding. 

No matter how hard he scrubbed,

no matter how much blood came out, 

Javier's claim has been established. 

The mark had seeped into his identity as Javier Omega

And perhaps, forever

With his body still dripping with water and blood, Lloyd slowly slumped to the bathroom floor, hiding his face between his folded knees. 

On the cold bathroom floor, with his body limp and aching, Lloyd could only embrace his own knees, trying to be small, trying to disappear-away from the horrible reality he now had to face.

Chapter Text

Lloyd stared blankly out of the window, his mind drifting back over the events of the past few days. Since Javier did that terrible thing, the Alpha had never set foot in this room again. But, to his puzzlement, after he had self-harmed in the bathroom that day, he found himself lying neatly on the bed, his body clean and free of wounds.

Lloyd suspected that Siluria had treated him. The royal witch had often helped him before. However, he couldn't be sure who had cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and lifted him onto the bed. Whenever he asked her about it, Siluria always changed the subject awkwardly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Eventually, Lloyd chose not to pursue the question further. After all, Siluria was the only person who knew what had really happened between him and Javier.

"Mr Lloyd, would you like to taste my homemade cake? It just so happens that I recently tried my hand at cooking."

Siluria's soft voice interrupted his reverie. She handed him a plate of warm apple pie, the cinnamon scent of which was appetising. Lloyd's blank gaze slowly shifted from the window to Siluria's expectant face. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement, which contrasted with the emptiness she felt inside.

In truth, Lloyd had disliked apple pie ever since childhood. However, upon seeing the sincerity in Siluria's smile, his hard heart softened slightly. With slow movements, he took a small bite.

To his surprise, the sweet-and-sour flavour on his tongue was delicious. He continued to take bites unconsciously until half the pie was gone. His thoughts drifted to Siluria's kindness over the years. In a gesture he rarely displayed, Lloyd offered the girl a bite of pie.

"Would you like some? Your pie is very good."

Siluria's face immediately lit up. "Really?" Her voice trembled with excitement.

Lloyd nodded slowly. "Yes, this is the first sweet I've had in years."

Siluria fell silent for a moment, her eyes widening. Clearly, there was something she wanted to say—perhaps a question or an expression of sympathy. But Lloyd cut in first.

"Sorry. You shouldn't hear this from me."

The atmosphere became awkward. Siluria shook her head lightly and quickly changed the subject. But behind the girl's smile, Lloyd sensed something. Perhaps it was pity, or maybe something deeper that he dared not guess.

"No, Lord, that's ..."

Siluria suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. It was as if her throat had been choked by something invisible — perhaps fear, or the realisation that her words could open a wound that was still too fresh.

Lloyd realised that this conversation would take him back to childhood memories he wanted to forget. Deliberately, he broke eye contact and changed the subject.

"Don't call me Lord. I'm just a prisoner here," he said hoarsely. He smiled stiffly, thinking that Siluria shouldn't call him 'Lord' any more.

Siluria looked uncomfortable, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe. "So what's the matter? Isn't it still proper for me to be respectful? You are now my friend," she replied softly. Lloyd gave her a sharp look as she continued, "No matter what happened, Mr Lloyd is still Mr Lloyd. To be honest ... I often feel lonely in this palace. The other witches rarely interact."

Lloyd fell silent for a moment, his face bearing a complex expression that was hard to read. Finally, he turned his gaze to the window; his cheeks were flushed with unexpected embarrassment. For the first time in a long while, he felt relieved by Siluria's presence. Why hadn't she realised this and opened up to kind nobles like him before?

"Ah, Lord Lloyd, I must go and see the Tower Witch. We have an appointment," said Siluria suddenly. She deftly gathered her things, smiling as Lloyd nodded. "Take care, Mr Lloyd. I'll be back in the afternoon!" The door closed slowly, leaving Lloyd alone with an empty pie plate.

Bad thoughts began to haunt him. Perhaps Siluria was disgusted with him, knowing what Javier had done. As a witch, she must surely have noticed the Alpha's claim marks on the nape of his neck. Lloyd, who had thought the torture would last only one night, discovered that it had lasted four whole days.

His trembling hand rubbed the bite mark on the back of his neck—a mark that would never fade. Then he pressed his palm against his flat stomach, silently praying that no new life would grow from the violence. The mere thought of Javier's foetus growing in his womb made his stomach turn

Lloyd looked up at the ceiling in the silence of the room. His tears had stopped, as if they had already been shed. Now, all that remained was the fear of the future and the nagging question

His hands trembled with sadness and disgust. He bowed his head deeply. He hated his karma for treating the residents of his estate so harshly. If he was to be treated like an animal by Javier, then this karma should have come from him abusing women. But he had never harassed anyone in his life, except by insulting them or damaging their property.

He would rather be flogged to death than suffer this humiliation.

What was Javier thinking after raping him? Would he be happy and insult him for the rest of his life, bringing up the time when he was forced to serve Javier, who was in a rut?

No, this was just an accident. There was no way that Javier would rape him again, because the Alpha who hated him would never do such a disgusting thing twice.

... 

It was already night-time. The thought of Javier coming to this room again scared her. He had decided to sleep on the floor, where Lloyd's body was hidden by the mattress. He curled up and let his body feel the cold marble, deliberately leaving the window open to let the wind in and make himself sick. He just wanted to die faster. At least this suffering could serve as penance for how badly he had treated the people of the Frontera in the past.

When he finally fell asleep, he woke up on the bed. He was confused, wondering how he had got up there. The loneliness he always felt when he woke up in the morning began to gnaw at him.

Sometimes, Lloyd just wanted to experience a warm greeting in the morning.

Siluria was certainly busy. As a royal witch, she had a lot of work to do.

His sleepy eyes stared at the mirror, and he reached back to the nape of his neck and saw the clear bite marks left by Javier. But he notice new mark on his neck. This bite-mark was fresh. Had these marks been there before? Lloyd remembered that there hadn't been a single mark─except the mark on his nape because it will be there until he die. But at the same time, he clearly remember that he never saw others bite like this after Siluria had healed him.

But his attention was instantly drawn away by the servants and guards walking through the palace gardens. Lloyd smiled stiffly, imagining that he could mingle with people like them.

There was nothing he could do about it. He would just wait for the food and do his usual thing of starting to read. Ever since he lost his noble title, reading books had become his main habit. There were several books in this room, but Javier didn't seem to know that reading had become his habit.

It was already early days. All Lloyd could do was go back to bed, sleep, and after wake up, he will ask Siluria about the bite-mark on his neck. But just as he was about to close his eyes again, he heard his door open and saw Javier standing in the doorway. Lloyd's eyes widened, and he took a few steps back unconsciously. Javier's expression was strange and unreadable.

Before Lloyd could speak, Javier noticed the bite marks on his neck. In a fit of rage, Javier approached Lloyd and grabbed him by the neck.

"You fucking bitch! Were you fooling around with someone else while I was away?!" he shouted. Dazed, Lloyd was unable to answer or deny anything as Javier had him firmly choked.

When Javier realised that Lloyd was about to pass out, he released his grip. Lloyd fell to the floor, coughing and feeling a burning sensation in his throat.

Why was Javier angry? Was it the pressure of politics?

Javier stood over Lloyd, his shadow covering him like a dark cloud. He was breathing heavily, his hands were clenched and his gaze was full of unstoppable rage.

“Do you think I don't know your dirty game?” Javier hissed, his voice low but deadly. "How dare an omega like you play with others."

Lloyd pressed himself against the corner of the wall, his hands gripping the cold surface. But Javier easily grabbed the iron chains shackling his ankles and pulled with brutal force, dragging Lloyd's thin body across the floor and throwing him onto the mattress.

Javier's normally cold blue eyes had turned into a stormy sea, filled with anger and something more primitive — blind jealousy. Without warning, he dug his sharp teeth into Lloyd's neck, right at the kiss mark that even Lloyd didn't know the origin of.

“AAAKH...!!!”

Lloyd's screams turned into guttural sounds as Javier's bite cut his skin and drew blood. Javier didn't stop. His tongue traced the freshly made wound, tasting the metallic flavour of Lloyd's blood, while his hand gripped the omega's thigh, leaving a trail of purple bruises.

Using his nose like a predator's, Javier sniffed every inch of Lloyd's skin, searching for foreign scents that weren't there. Lloyd's own pheromones were too strong, overwhelming Javier's senses and driving him to frustration.

"If I find another mark besides mine," Javier hissed, his voice more sinister than a shout, "I'll make you suffer so much that you won't be able to walk for a month."

He threw Lloyd's trembling body onto the mattress as if it were a rag doll. Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room with heavy steps, the door clanging loudly behind him.

Lloyd was left shivering, touching his wounded neck with cold fingers. When he turned to look in the mirror, he was greeted by a horrifying sight. Rows of bite marks formed a mosaic of cruelty on his pale skin.

"No ... no ..." he whispered, his voice breaking.

Using her long nails, he began to claw at the bite marks hysterically, scratching until the skin was torn and blood flowed. The physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation of being Javier's 'property'.

His stomach rebelled. Lloyd choked and rushed to the bathroom. His knees hit the marble floor hard as he vomited. His last meal from Siluria was mixed with stomach acid and tears.

Between bouts of agonising vomiting, he held his own weight on the marble floor, his hands covered in blood and saliva.

"This... won't end..." he moaned, looking at his reflection on the bathroom floor.

He limped back to the bed and searched the nightstand for the bandages Siluria had kept there. Lloyd cleaned and bandaged the wound, hoping it would not become infected.

Afterwards, he recorded today's events in his book.

His fingers moved quickly, writing word by word until he had finished.

His eyes stared blankly at the window; the only thing visible was the scenery, with the trees illuminated by the morning sunlight. Nothing special happened until Lloyd finally decided to lie down on the bed, ignoring the cold wind that hit him.

His chest ached.

He was afraid

Really afraid that one day he would be trapped forever in this golden prison.