The pain in Arion's abdomen was no longer just pain. It was a searing, consuming fire that twisted and coiled within him, a torment that was also a terrible, exquisite pleasure. The sucking sensation on his mark intensified, a direct, primal pull that left him breathless. His body, a traitor to his mind, responded with a wave of raw, unadulterated pleasure. A low, pained groan escaped his lips, a sound that was a mix of agony and ecstasy. He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the noise, his body trembling with the effort.
His mind, a whirlwind of shame and desire, replayed the wild night. The raw, untamed passion, the desperate moans, the agonizing surrender—it was all a blur of exquisite pain and pleasure. His body craved more, more of the pain, more of the pleasure, more of the man who had brought him to his knees.
Just then, he heard the creak of the door. A soft, rhythmic sound of footsteps filled the room, followed by the gentle clatter of cleaning supplies. A beta maidservant and her assistant had arrived to clean the room. Arion's breath hitched in his throat. He was a warrior, a Lord of the North, and he was now a silent prisoner, a slave to a lie.
"What a mess," the first maidservant said, her voice a low murmur.
"It seems like Prince Kyon was in his rut and destroyed a lot of stuff," the assistant replied, her voice filled with a detached curiosity.
Arion's body froze. He was a prisoner in his own body, and now, he was a prisoner in a closet. He had to be silent. He had to be still. He had to be invisible.
"I see this stuff on the bed," the first maidservant said, her voice a soft, breathless whisper. "It must have been an interesting rut. He must have had a wild time."
Arion's face burned with a shame so profound he thought he might combust. They were talking about him. They were talking about the wild, untamed passion that had consumed him and the man he loved. They were talking about a secret that was so profound, so dangerous, that it had the power to destroy an entire kingdom.
He closed his eyes, his body trembling with the weight of it all. He was a man who was no longer in control of his own body, a man who was a prisoner of his own desire. He was a warrior, a Lord of the North, and he was now a man who was an omega to a prince, a prince who was a master of deception. He was in love with a monster, a man who had brought him to his knees, and he was terrified. He was terrified of the power Kyon held over him, terrified of the truth of their bond, and terrified of the future that awaited them. But more than anything, he was terrified of the fact that he wanted it. He wanted to be with Kyon, to be his partner, his consort, his omega. He wanted to live this lie, to be a part of this terrible, beautiful, and utterly true life.