It wasn't hunger that brought him to the dining hall. It was the leash.
Two guards flanked him, one at each arm. The chain connected to his collar was gripped tightly in Dren's fist as he dragged Seo-Yun forward like a feral beast. Every step echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber. Stone walls, arching like a cathedral. Flames danced in golden sconces, and a long obsidian table stretched down the center like an altar.
At the far end, the Alphas dined.
Kaelith. Saren. Torin. Dren, who led him forward.
None of them looked surprised to see him. He'd been summoned—like a dog. Like prey.
Plates overflowed with roasted meats, vegetables sautéed in oils he couldn't name. Steam curled from goblets of thick crimson wine. It smelled like a royal feast. It looked like cruelty.
Seo-Yun's stomach churned. Not from hunger. From knowing he wasn't meant to eat it.
Kaelith didn't even look at him. He cut into his steak with military precision, speaking without raising his eyes. "On your knees."
Dren yanked the leash hard.
Seo-Yun collapsed forward, barely catching himself on his bruised hands. The stone was cold against his knees. A deep ache pulsed in his lower back—constant, blooming, inescapable.
Torin leaned back lazily in his seat, wine glass tilted. "Poor thing looks sore. You boys go too hard on him last night?"
"Not hard enough," Kaelith muttered.
"I think he enjoyed it," Saren added, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "The vitals suggest partial submission response by the third hour."
"That's because we drugged him," Kaelith said bluntly. "He passed out before round two even started."
Laughter echoed across the table.
Seo-Yun didn't flinch. He just stared at the floor, refusing to look at the food, the fire, the monsters.
Then it came.
A hand placed a bowl in front of him. Stainless steel. Shiny enough to show his reflection.
Inside? Strips of raw meat. Pink. Slick. Blood pooling at the bottom. Next to it—a small dish of warm, curdled milk.
A joke. A performance.
Torin's boot nudged the bowl closer. "Eat."
Seo-Yun's hands tightened on the floor. His shoulders trembled. Still, he said nothing.
Kaelith finally looked up from his plate. "Eat, or you'll be force-fed."
Torin smirked. "I wouldn't mind doing that. Gag reflex testing, anyone?"
Seo-Yun moved.
Slowly. Mechanically.
He leaned down. His mouth hovered over the meat. His eyes burned with shame as he tore off a strip and chewed. Metallic. Chewy. Cold.
Milk followed. Sour. He nearly retched but forced it down.
He wasn't human here.
He wasn't even Omega.
He was something else entirely: property.