POV: Daelen Pryce
Daelen Pryce had never been the type to beg.
He was an Alpha—sharp, confident, carved by the kind of pride that refused to bend. But when he'd stood in front of his girlfriend two nights ago, hearing her say it's over, something inside him had cracked.
And the worst part wasn't the breaking. It was knowing she had left him for someone else.
Not just anyone. Irian Thal.
The name tasted bitter on his tongue. That quiet Omega, always keeping to himself, always with those unreadable eyes. Daelen couldn't remember a single time Irian had spoken more than ten words in a row to him. And yet, somehow, he'd stolen what was his.
Daelen shoved his hands into his pockets, pacing the empty hallway outside his apartment. The city buzzed below—neon signs flickering, cars splashing through puddles—but none of it reached him. His world had narrowed to one thought, sharp and burning.
He took her from me. I'll take everything from him.
The plan wasn't fully formed, but Daelen had always been quick on his feet. Revenge didn't need patience; it needed precision. And his precision was this: Irian Thal.
If his ex thought she could humiliate him by choosing an Omega over her Alpha, he'd make sure the tables turned. He'd seduce Irian, pull him close, and when the Omega finally crumbled into his arms, Daelen would make sure everyone knew.
No one would forget who the stronger one really was.
His phone buzzed. A message from Nareth Sol lit up the screen:
> Lucian woke up. Hospital cleared him this morning.
Daelen exhaled slowly, tension slipping into his shoulders. Good. He'd been worried—not that he'd admit it out loud. Lucian was reckless, but he was still his friend. The kind of friend you didn't find twice.
Daelen typed a quick reply: I'll check on him tomorrow.
His thumb hovered over the send button before he deleted the words. Tomorrow wasn't promised, and he had other priorities now.
Instead, he pulled up a different chat.
Irian Thal.
The last message was weeks old, a simple thank you after Daelen had passed along some homework in their shared class. Irian had always been polite, reserved. Untouchable, almost.
Daelen's lips curved into a smile that held no warmth. Untouchable or not, he would touch him. Break him. Own him.
His fingers flew across the screen.
> You busy tonight? Let's talk.
He didn't wait for a reply. Whether Irian answered or not didn't matter. Because Daelen Pryce had already decided—this was the beginning of his revenge.
And nothing would stop him from pulling Irian into his web.
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