"Maman!"
Ezra turned, one hand reaching for his cape as the strong wind threatened to rip it from his shoulders.
"Lior." His voice softened instantly as he scooped the little golden boy into his arms. "Done exploring already, little one?"
"Mhm! Look, look!" Lior held up a necklace, proudly displaying a string of shells tied together.
Ezra smiled, eyes following the way small fingers carefully clutched each shell. "Wow. Where did you get this, hm?"
"That little bundle of sunshine you've got there charmed the lady merchants into giving him a free necklace for his Maman."
The voice was gruff and unfamiliar.
Ezra looked up.
The man had the look of a sailor, weathered skin and an easy grin. "It's rare to see a male omega aboard a ship like this."
Ezra stiffened.
"Male omegas are rare in general," he replied evenly. "Which is why, for the sake of myself and my child, I ask that you don't mention it to anyone."
The sailor shrugged. "Wasn't planning to, lad. I just wanted to meet the one who raised him. Like I said, he's quite the charmer. As rare as you are, a child that is well-behaved is rarer still."
Ezra studied him.
The man seemed kind enough, but Ezra had learned long ago not to rely on kindness alone. As a knight, he trusted his ability to read people, especially men.
And he sensed no lie. No threat.
He relaxed slightly and smiled down at Lior.
"I suppose I got lucky," Ezra said, gently brushing a hand through the boy's hair. Lior giggled.
"You certainly did. You and the mister," the sailor replied. "I'll head back to the captain now. Just wanted to make sure the little one made it back to his Maman safely. There's been an increase in children getting kidnapped lately, so I figured I should keep an eye out."
'What?' Ezra thought, lifting his head. 'Kidnapped? Since when was there a mass kidnapping in Luxaelis?'
"A rise in kidnappings?" he asked aloud. "In this kingdom?"
Luxaelis was supposed to be the safest kingdom, almost untouched by crime, burdened only by one lingering problem.
"Aye. As if the dark ones plaguing the land weren't enough, now we've got criminals to worry about too," the sailor said, spitting to the side. "Judging by your reaction, I'm guessing you're not from around here?"
"I am. Or… I was," Ezra answered. "I left for a few years."
The sailor nodded. "A lot's changed. Ever since that Crimson Fae disappeared and someone else took their place, the Sunward Sentinels have only grown weaker. Even the Goldflame Order has had to step in more often."
Ezra froze.
The Crimson Fae.
A title he hadn't heard in five years, not since he left the kingdom on what he had called a 'vacation.'
A title given to him when he served as captain of the Sunward Sentinels, the knight order led by Helios De Luxaelian Sunthyr, first prince of the Luxaelis Kingdom.
A title earned on the battlefield, where he stood drenched in blood, merciless and unyielding.
Seven years earlier…
Ezra's heart thundered in his chest. All around him, his men lay scattered across the ground, some wounded, others unmoving.
Helios was with the convoy from the Kingdom of Lunaris, the very convoy the Sunward Sentinels had been assigned to protect.
"Captain! You… you have to go! You need to call his—ACK!"
"Joseph!" Ezra shouted, eyes widening as a Dark One emerged behind the man. Its arm drove straight through Joseph's body, impaling him where he stood. "No… no…"
Ezra's vision blurred, red flooding his sight. He didn't know if it was rage or the blood running down his forehead and into his eyes.
Maybe it was both.
"You bastards!" Ezra snarled, tightening his grip on his sword as he took in their surroundings. There were more Dark Ones than he had ever seen before, closing in from every direction.
"C-Captain, please retreat," Leon's weak voice came from behind him. "Just leave us… please."
"I am not running away!" Ezra roared. "I am not leaving my men behind. His Highness, the First Prince, Helios De Luxaelian Sunthyr, entrusted you all to me. I will either die here with you, or I will save every last one of us before His Highness arrives."
Silence followed.
Only sobs broke it. The cries of wounded men. The ragged breathing of those still standing.
"Captain…"
"Captain Ezra, please!"
"Captain, save yourself…"
Ezra didn't listen.
He couldn't afford to.
'Helios will come. Until then, he trusted me with all these lives,' Ezra thought, drawing in a steadying breath as his gaze swept over the Dark Ones encircling his men.
Encircling him.
"Come at me," Ezra muttered, bracing himself for the fight.
The Dark Ones came all at once.
They had once been human. Ezra knew that.
He saw it in the twisted remains of their faces, in the fragments of armor still clinging to decayed bodies, in the way some of them moved with instincts that were painfully familiar.
Dead men.
Men who had lost everything that made them human, driven by a single purpose: to drain the life from the living.
Ezra moved.
Steel met rotting flesh with brutal precision. His blade cut through the first Dark One cleanly, blackened blood spraying across the ground.
Another lunged at him, faster than the last. This one had been a soldier in life. He could tell by the feint, by the way it tried to circle and flank him.
Smarter.
Ezra blocked, twisted, and drove his sword straight through its skull.
"Captain, please!" someone cried behind him.
He didn't turn.
More came.
Some were weak, their bodies barely holding together, collapsing under a single strike. Others were stronger, sturdier, their muscles still remembering how to fight, how to kill.
Ezra adjusted with every enemy, reading them as he always had, even now.
Even surrounded.
His arms burned. His breathing grew heavy.
Still, he pressed forward.
"NO, NO, PLEASE!" a man screamed in horror. It was Elion, one of the youngest among them.
Ezra's head snapped toward the sound.
A Dark One had its claws wrapped around Elion, lifting him off the ground as he thrashed helplessly. Panic filled the young soldier's eyes.
"No," Ezra growled. "Not on my watch."
He surged forward, ignoring the protest of his muscles. His blade flashed, severing the Dark One's arm before plunging into its chest. The creature collapsed, lifeless once more.
Ezra caught Elion before he hit the ground. "Get back," he ordered sharply. "Now."
"But Captain—"
"Move."
Elion didn't argue again.
Ezra turned just in time to block another attack. His sword felt heavier now. His vision swam. Blood coated his armor, soaked into his clothes, slick beneath his boots.
Some of it wasn't his.
Some of it was.
'Don't slow down,' he told himself. 'Not now.'
He fought on.
Strike after strike. Cut after cut.
The world narrowed to steel and flesh, to snarls and screams, to the wet sound of his blade tearing through things that should never have risen again.
His knees buckled for a heartbeat.
Too long.
Ezra stumbled, catching himself on his sword. His head spun violently, the ground suddenly far too close.
'I can't… fall.'
Another Dark One lunged.
Then—
Light.
Brilliant, blinding golden light tore through the battlefield, burning away the darkness as if it had never existed. The remaining Dark Ones shrieked as magic consumed them, their bodies dissolving into ash under the overwhelming force.
Ezra lifted his head slowly.
He knew that light.
He had followed it into battle more times than he could count.
"…Prince Helios," Ezra breathed.
The last Dark One vanished in a burst of gold.
Silence fell.
And Ezra finally let himself give in.
But instead of hitting the ground, a pair of arms caught him.
"Ezra… good job," a faint voice whispered.
"Y-Your… Highness…" Ezra tried to look up, but his strength was gone.
"Rest easy now. I'll handle it from here."
At those words, Ezra let go.
He let the darkness take him, knowing his men and the convoy were finally safe.
Present…
After that day, the men who survived told the tale of Ezra Belloren, the Crimson Fae.
The stone-cold captain who refused to give up so he could save what remained of his men.
Ezra was proud of that story.
To the world, he was simply a strong captain who never faltered, a frightening knight said to possess the strength of ten men.
No one knew the truth.
Well, no one except one person.
Ezra was an omega.
Omegas were never meant to become knights. They were seen as fragile, as weak.
And yet Ezra had fought harder, endured longer, and stood stronger than many of the alphas and betas beside him. That knowledge filled him with a quiet, defiant pride.
That was why he loved being a knight.
He loved being strong.
One of the hardest things he ever did was give it all up for five years for—
"Maman, maman… can I please put this on you? I-I'm sure it will make Maman even more beautiful!"
Lior's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Ezra looked down at his son and smiled.
—for the best thing that had ever happened to him.
"Of course, little one," Ezra said, lifting Lior slightly so he could reach. The boy carefully placed the seashell necklace atop Ezra's head.
"Mhm, mhm," Lior hummed to himself as he concentrated, small hands gripping Ezra's hair.
"Careful now," Ezra said with a soft chuckle.
"I will, Maman!" Lior exclaimed. When he finished, he grabbed Ezra's cheeks and turned his face toward him. "There!"
"Hm? Shouldn't it go around my neck?" Ezra asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lior shook his head firmly. "Nuh-uh! I wanted it to look like a crown on you. Like a queen!"
Ha.
Haha.
How ironic that his little golden boy would say that, without knowing that—
"How clever you are, Lior," Ezra murmured, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his son's head. Lior giggled.
—that his father was one of the princes of the—
"Land ahead! Ready yourselves! We're approaching the Kingdom of Luxaelis!"