I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)-Chapter 19: A Cursed Awareness

"How is our esteemed Crown Prince faring these days?"

Zarius’s voice was a dry rasp, barely more than the sound of dead leaves skittering across stone. He stood by the tall, arched window of his chamber, his hand gripping the cold stone of the sill until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. Outside, the Northern gardens looked like a patchwork of bruised greys and browns, a fitting reflection of the man who ruled over them.

His eyes were fixed on a small, moving speck of color below. Cherion.

The Omega was wandering the garden paths with his new attendant trailing behind him like a persistent shadow. From this height, Cherion looked fragile, almost dainty, but there was a certain... bounce to his step that felt entirely out of place in the grim atmosphere of Valtrane.

Suddenly, as if sensing the weight of a gaze, Cherion stopped. He tilted his head back, his eyes searching the castle walls until they locked onto Zarius’s window.

Zarius flinched. He quickly pulled back behind the heavy velvet curtain, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Pathetic, he thought, his lip curling in self-disgust. The Great Wolf of the North, hiding from the gaze of a mere Omega.

He retreated toward the center of the room, every step feeling like he was wading through waist-deep mud. God, he was exhausted.

It wasn’t just the lack of sleep. It was a bone-deep, marrow-sucking fatigue that made even the act of drawing breath feel like a chore. His head throbbed with a dull, rhythmic pulse, and his throat felt as though he’d swallowed a handful of dry needles.

It had been like this for months. A slow, agonizing decay that the finest physicians in the Empire couldn’t explain, let alone treat. They came with their bitter concoctions that tasted of swamp water and despair that did absolutely nothing but bleed him of his gold.

He slumped onto the low-slung velvet sofa, the movement causing a wave of nausea to roll through his gut. He reached for the cup of tea sitting on the low table and took a sip. It didn’t soothe him. Nothing did.

Well... almost nothing.

His mind drifted back to the early hours of the morning. To the sensation of Cherion’s hands on his chest. It had been shocking, an affront to his dignity, and yet... for a few brief, glorious minutes, the fire in his blood had dimmed.

A curse. He stared into the amber depths of his tea. He’d suspected it for a while, of course. No illness behaved this way. But admitting it felt like an admission of defeat. A Duke of Valtrane shouldn’t be susceptible to the dark, sniveling arts of a hidden enemy. It was ridiculous and insulting at the same time.

"Our spy in the palace reports nothing out of the ordinary, My Lord."

Zarius blinked, realizing Elios was still standing there.

"The Crown Prince continues to hold court as usual," Elios continued.

Zarius let out a short, harsh bark of a laugh that turned into a ragged cough. "Keep watching him."

Elios nodded, his expression darkening. "And the Omega? My Lord, forgive me for overstepping, but do you truly trust him? It feels like a trap."

Zarius looked away, his gaze wandering to a crack in the stone fireplace. "I don’t think he’s lying, Elios. Not about the healing, at least."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because the boy has the face of a frightened rabbit," Zarius muttered, a faint, almost invisible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "His thoughts are written so clearly on his face it’s like reading an open book. He is... remarkably transparent. For a spy, he’d be a complete failure."

Elios didn’t look convinced. "Transparency can be a mask of its own. I wish you would keep your guard up, Your Grace. If he is some sort of weapon sent to finish what the curse started..."

"I know," Zarius interrupted, his voice sharpening. "I know the risks. But look at me, Elios. Unless you or Flio can bring me a miracle worker who can lift this disgusting blight off my soul, what choice do I have? The little Omega is showing off his healing power. If there is a chance that he can lift the curse, I have to see what he does next."

He leaned his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes. "I want to see if he really intends to ’cure’ me, or if he’s just trying to buy enough time to find a way out of the executioner’s reach. Either way, he’s the only interesting thing that’s happened in this tomb in years."

"As you wish, My Lord," Elios said, his tone tight with suppressed worry.

There was a soft on the door next and Flio entered.

"Per your orders, I have assigned a personal attendant to Lord Cherion," Flio said.

"Good," Zarius grunted. "You both now can leave," Zarius said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I need... a moment." 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The two men excused themselves, their footsteps fading as the heavy door creaked shut. Zarius let out a long, shuddering breath, his hands trembling slightly as he set the teacup down. He wanted to sleep, but the itch was back, a prickling heat that made him want to claw at his own throat.

What are you, Cherion? he wondered. A savior, or just another piece of bait?

Less than a minute later, the door creaked again. Zarius didn’t open his eyes. "I said I wanted to be left alone. Unless the castle is on fire, it can wait."

"My apologies, Your Grace," Flio’s voice came from the doorway, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

Zarius opened one eye, glaring at the butler. "What is it now?"

Flio cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "It’s Lord Cherion, sir. He is... well, he is standing right outside. He says he has ’official business’ to discuss regarding your health"

Zarius sat up abruptly, a sharp pain lancing through his head. He looked at the door, then at his disheveled robe, then back at Flio.

Zarius stared at the closed door, the itch beneath his skin suddenly replaced by a strange, fluttering tension in his chest. The boy didn’t waste any time, did he?

"Let him in," Zarius said, his voice regaining some of its iron edge. "Let’s see what this ’official business’ entails."