Chapter 7
If Ehlian had to rank the worst things about prison, the food would undoubtedly make it to the top of the list. It was nutritious, sure, but it either tasted like bland paper or wet sand overloaded with way too many spices.
No one seemed to truly enjoy it. Eating was more of a chore, a monotonous, everyday task essential for survival.
When a sudden silence swept across the lounge, Ehlian looked up with a frown. Nearly every pair of eyes turned in the same direction. Even Grasson had stopped staring at him.
Ehlian followed their gaze. A thin, fragile omega stood hesitantly at the entrance, his eyes wide with fear at the unwanted attention.
For a moment, it seemed he might flee back to his cell, but then his expression shifted into a hardened mask as he walked to the empty table Ehlian had once occupied in his first week.
Something in the omega’s face reminded Ehlian painfully of himself, of the way he had sworn not to show fear or let anyone walk all over him.
The murmurs slowly returned, but the greedy eyes lingered—looking away and then looking back, wanting, considering, betting.
Ehlian could see why. Despite the sunken face and fragile frame, the omega’s beauty still shone through.
Even Ehlian looked pale beside him, and he had never once felt insecure about his looks.
He glanced at Hayce and froze.
His expression made Ehlian’s chest tighten for a heartbeat. He looked torn, weighing something, as though he was ready to let Ehlian go and replace him with the newcomer.
At the far end of the lounge, one alpha suddenly rose, striding toward the omega. He was abruptly stopped by Grasson, who flexed his muscles like a savage animal.
Low hisses flew between them, a tense push and pull as they fought for dominance.
A harsh metallic clang rang out, followed by a wet splatter as Grasson struck the alpha with a tray. Food went flying, splashing everywhere. Ehlian had barely a moment to process the situation before chaos erupted. In the blink of an eye, a wave of violence swept through the lounge.
Instinctively, Ehlian’s hand shot out toward Hayce, but he was quickly swept away by the melee—bodies crashing, misplaced kicks, and fists flying dangerously close.
He hit the floor hard, dread gripping his throat as he scrambled on his hands and knees, crawling through the chaos.
Finally, he stumbled into an open cell and slumped against the cold wall, his heart pounding, breaths coming in short, ragged pants.
“You think you can hide?”
Ehlian jolted from the wall, his chest tightening as he faced an alpha with a red scar across his face. The tag on his uniform read 665. Ehlian didn’t know his name, but he recognised him as a member of Grasson’s pack.
Ehlian stumbled backwards, retreating deeper into the small cell.
Big mistake.
Now, he had nowhere left to run.
“Why so afraid? It’s your lucky day,” 665 sneered, his lips twisting into an ugly, dirty smile. “I’ll deliver you to Grasson myself. He’s waiting.”
“No,” Ehlian managed, his voice trembling.
“Or better yet…” 665’s eyes lit up with something vile and rotten. “Maybe I’ll have a little fun myself first.”
“I—I’m Hayce’s omega,” Ehlian stammered desperately, the words escaping before he could second-guess them.
“But are you really, pretty boy?” 665 taunted, his hands gesturing theatrically. “Where is he? Hmm? Nowhere to be found, not even watching out for his precious little omega.”
The fight raged on outside. The guards were still struggling to regain control over the violent criminals. For all Ehlian knew, Hayce could be lying unconscious—or worse, in his own pool of blood—trampled in the middle of it all.
“He will—” Ehlian scrambled for anything threatening that might scare the alpha away. “He’ll kill you for this.”
“Oh, you naive little thing.” 665 let out a deep, guttural laugh. “You think you matter? He’ll toss you aside sooner than you think, just like all the rest. There’s always fresh meat coming in.”
Ehlian’s stomach twisted into knots as the alpha’s eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger. “Speaking of meat…” 665 dragged his tongue across his lips. “I’m feeling ravenous.”
Cold fear filled Ehlian, and his hands fumbled blindly for something to defend himself with. His fingers wrapped around the first thing they found. A book.
Shit.
“Terrifying,” the alpha mocked, his grin widening as he brandished a makeshift knife cobbled together from jagged scraps of metal and broken furniture. “Now, be a good boy and stay still, or I—”
The alpha froze mid-sentence, mouth open, tongue poised to shape his next words.
But no sound came. His entire body stiffened unnaturally, like a grotesque statue—alive but utterly lifeless.
And his eyes… for the first time, Ehlian caught a glimpse of something unexpected in them: pure, unfiltered fear.
Without warning, 665 collapsed to his knees, his expression twisting into a mixture of confusion and terror. His hands trembled as they curled around the hilt of his makeshift knife. Slowly, almost mechanically, he positioned the blade over his groin, angling it with devastating precision.
Behind the alpha stood Hayce, his power crackled and surged through the air, heavy and oppressive, laced with a dark edge that made Ehlian’s instincts scream to submit or run.
Hayce barely spared the frozen, kneeling alpha a glance as he passed by. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Ehlian’s stomach fluttered, a rush of something light and electric spreading through him as Hayce stepped closer, the darkness of his uniform a sharp contrast to the dull grey of the inmate’s clothes.
Without thinking, Ehlian reached out, gripping the dark fabric tightly. His legs trembled beneath him, drained of strength as the adrenaline faded.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Hayce murmured, his voice unexpectedly gentle. His strong arm slid beneath Ehlian’s knees, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. Ehlian instinctively looped his arms around Hayce’s neck, clinging to him as his head lolled against the firm shoulder.
Only moments after they left the cell, 665’s scream pierced through the roar of the ongoing prison fight.
It seemed ‘later’ had come much sooner than expected.
On either side of them, battling inmates froze mid-swing as Hayce passed by, the sheer force of his power paralysing them. The chaos resumed only when Hayce began climbing the stairs to the top floor.
Ehlian exhaled shakily when they reached the safety of their spacious cell. Hayce didn’t say a word as he carried him in and settled him into the familiar comfort of the armchair.
A moment later, Hayce pressed a glass into his hand. Ehlian took a drink—one gulp, then another—the alcohol burning its way down his throat.
“I’m fine,” Ehlian muttered stubbornly, putting the glass aside. “Don’t say a word.”
If Hayce had any intention of responding, he showed no sign of it.
Ehlian kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, yanking the blanket tightly around himself. The cell wasn’t cold, yet he was trembling. He didn’t belong here. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this violent world.
The cake Willian had sent rested in its small box.
It was already starting to dry and crumble, but Ehlian was rationing it.
One small piece each day, a fragile taste of care, friendship, and home.
He blinked hard as his throat tightened, fighting against the tears that stung his eyes, desperate to escape.
A loud clatter echoed through the prison. He jolted, heart racing. Something—a chair? A table?—must’ve been thrown. Instinctively, he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, as if it might protect him.
The bed dipped behind him, and he froze, his breath catching. A tense silence filled the air until a warm hand rested on his arm. Suddenly, calmness surged through the pack bond, gentle and serene, washing over his frayed nerves like a soothing balm. The intensity of it was breathtaking.
“Turn this way,” Hayce murmured.
It was almost shameful how quickly Ehlian turned, allowing Hayce’s strong arms to close around him. But shame didn’t matter now. He needed something, anything stable and grounding. Safety. Protection.
He pressed his forehead against Hayce’s chest, his eyes slipping closed, the steady rise and fall of Hayce’s breathing surrounded him.
Hayce’s fingers threaded lazily through his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching his scalp.
The sensation was soothing, almost hypnotic, and the addictive calmness of Hayce radiating through the pack bond drowned out the sharp clanks and clatters of the distant fight.
“What did you do to him?” Ehlian asked softly after a while, his voice muffled against Hayce’s chest.
“Less than what he deserved,” Hayce replied, his tone unapologetic.
Ehlian shoved away the ugly memory of 665’s face, unwilling to spare him another thought.
“Do fights like that happen often?”
“Every few months. You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t think I will.” Ehlian shook his head. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm.”
“I was taught self-defence from a very young age.”
The safety of an heir to a centuries-old empire was sacred. An investment. A security. But that didn’t mean anyone could be mentally prepared for the sheer ugliness of violence. Ehlian wondered whether Hayce had faced it, even beyond prison.
His body tensed when he remembered that fragile omega. “We have to go back. That omega—”
“He’s fine,” Hayce said. “I left him with Aric.”
Ehlian let out a sigh of relief, realising Hayce had gone for the omega first before coming for him.
“Please don’t let Grasson claim him.” He tipped his head back, looking up at Hayce with a pleading glow in his eyes. “Please.”
Hayce measured him silently for a moment. “He’ll be in good hands with Kraiton.”
“The one Grasson attacked?” Ehlian asked. When Hayce nodded, he added, “But… is Kraiton less of a lunatic? Or just better at hiding it?”
“He’s one of the more reasonable ones,” Hayce said. “But it’s still a transaction, something for something. You’ll drive yourself mad if you try to save everyone. If that omega picks Kraiton, he walks out of this place alive. That’s more than most get.”
It wasn’t exactly a satisfying answer, especially the something-for-something part, even if Ehlian already knew the nature of this place. The alphas in Hayce’s pack already had omegas at their side, the pack’s size stretching nearly beyond control.
“Can you…” Ehlian cleared his throat. “Take him in? Have, you know… two omegas?”
Hayce’s fingers paused in Ehlian’s hair, then tucked a few strands behind his ear. “That’s what you want?”
“I…” Ehlian stalled. The word yes balanced on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
It left him confused, even shocked. What was he hesitating about?
He couldn’t be so selfish as to want Hayce all to himself.
Heat rushed to his face. He didn’t want Hayce.
Gods, he was acting like some mindless, possessive omega.
Hayce wasn’t his alpha, and Ehlian wasn’t his omega.
Not really. It was a deal, forged by circumstance. Nothing more.
“I just want him safe,” he mumbled at last, unwilling to examine too closely the fact that he blindly trusted Hayce to protect that omega. “Can you keep him safe… please?” Then, after a heartbeat, he whispered. “You have the power. I know you can.”
Hayce drew Ehlian’s head against his chest again. “I’ll consider it.”
It had the weight of a promise, and Ehlian’s breathing slowed, finding peace finally.
He half-opened his eyes, catching the faint edge of a scar on Hayce’s neck. Without thinking, his thumb brushed lightly against it, then he snatched his hand back. “What happened?”
“It was a warning.”
Ehlian frowned, struggling to recall any article about Hayce’s injury.
If there was one, he’d probably never read it.
Sure, he’d seen pictures of Hayce before prison—polished photoshoots, sharp suits, flawless image.
But he had never been the kind of omega to obsess over an untouchable, wealthy alpha.
“A warning?”
Hayce didn’t answer.
The heavy clang of their cell door rolling shut broke the moment, but Ehlian didn’t flinch this time. The guards had finally regained control, their commanding voices echoing faintly through the small, barred window.
The distant sounds began to fade, and a comforting stillness settled in the room. Ehlian let himself sink into Hayce’s safe warmth, his eyelids growing heavy. Before long, sleep claimed him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless slumber.