Prologue #2
Hym sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. But they didn’t do anything to you, Tarymn. Dad did. You're aiming your anger at the wrong people. Don’t punish them for someone else’s betrayal.”
Tarymn stared at him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “So, you're okay with all this?”
Hym shrugged.
Of course he did. That was Hym’s answer to everything.
Tarymn silently groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Of course he had to be the one who cared too much.
“Fucking hell,” Tarymn muttered, his jaw clenching as he glared out the pod’s window. “How much stuff do they have?”
“Damn,” Hym echoed, eyeing the overloaded moving bot rumbling toward them. The thing looked ready to collapse under the weight of boxes, bags, and what might’ve been half a wardrobe.
“We should go help them,” Hym added, already stepping out of the pod. He paused at the door, casting a pointed glance over his shoulder.
Tarymn groaned under his breath. Fucking hell.
“Fine,” he snapped, following Hym out of the pod. Heat and city noise hit him at once. “Whatever that is, it’s not fitting in the pod.”
“Yeah,” Hym replied, already halfway across the walkway. Tarymn followed, just in time to hear his brother cheerfully informing Luci and Ludiin that not everything would fit and offering to stay behind while they took a first load home.
Just like that, Tarymn was being stuck with the omegas. Alone.
He glared at Hym— traitor —then grabbed one of the larger boxes off the bot without a word. The thing was heavier than it looked.
What the hell was in this thing? Tarymn grunted, his arms straining as he shifted its weight. The frustration coiling inside him made it feel even heavier, like the damn thing was carved from solid stone.
Footsteps rushed behind him. He didn’t slow down. Let them catch up.
Back inside the pod, he dumped the box on the seat across from him and collapsed into his own with a groan. He rubbed his palms against his thighs, trying to ward off the creeping pressure behind his eyes.
A flush of heat rippled beneath his skin, raising goosebumps along his arms. His scent thickened, bleeding into the air. It wrapped around the pod in a suffocating haze.
“Master,” Pitra said, wincing from the operator’s chair, his voice tight.
Tarymn swallowed hard.
Damn, he was going to kill his assistant, if he wasn’t careful. “Sorry,” he murmured, jaw clenched as he forced himself to reel it in. He needed to calm down before his aggression spiraled out of control.
He closed his eyes. Counted to ten. One. Two. Breathe. Three…
He hated this feeling, losing control, his true nature taking over.
Four.
The pod rocked slightly. A soft thud. Someone had climbed in. The quiet was quickly broken by a series of grunts as they stacked more boxes inside. Then silence. Tarymn opened his eyes.
Ludiin stood there, staring at him.
Wide eyes. Quiet. He wasn’t exactly fearful, but guarded, as if trying to figure him out.
“What?” Tarymn snapped, unable to take the silence and the eyes any longer.
Ludiin shook his head quickly and slipped into the front seat, hugging a box to his chest like a shield. His silence was oddly delicate, and his presence, though small, filled the pod in a strange way.
“Is your brother not coming?” Tarymn asked.
“No. He decided to stay with Hym,” Ludiin replied, his voice soft, velvety, almost musical.
Tarymn blinked. That voice…It slid through the air and into his bones, soothing without permission.
Fuck, he thought, disturbed by how much calmer he suddenly felt.
“Why didn’t you say so?” he growled, turning away. He hated how his voice came out rough and tight. Fucking choked. Too many things slipping out of his control.
Fucking hell.
He barked at Pitra to go. The pod’s engines purred to life, and seconds later they were drifting down the airway.
Silence hung, heavy and awkward in the pod, but strangely not unbearable. Tarymn kept his gaze out the window, watching the capital pass in a blur of storefronts, buzzing walkways, then slowly shifted to green lawns and elegant homes tucked behind privacy walls.
The noise of the city faded the farther they drifted into the residential district, swallowed by manicured hedges and winding residential airways lined with stately homes. Tarymn exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest loosening as if the chaos had been left behind. Well… not all of it.
He glanced at the omega in the front seat.
Fuck. This is real. He was now guardian to two omegas.
Tarymn clenched his jaw, forcing down the tight coil of dread winding in his chest.
It’ll be fine , he told himself.
Then the house came into view. A quiet monument of white stone, its tall windows gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Home sweet home , Tarymn thought ready to end this day.
The pod eased to a stop in the driveway.
“Smooth as always, Pitra,” Tarymn commented as he stood and grabbed the box with a grunt. Ludiin followed quietly, clutching his own. They stepped out into the sunlight, the white stone of the house blazing against the sky.
Then Tarymn heard the soft scuff of shoes behind him.
He turned.
Ludiin stood still, eyes fixed on Tarymn like he was trying to find the words to say something he wasn’t sure he should.
Tarymn frowned. What now?
Nothing happened for a moment. Then, slowly, Ludiin bent down, set the box gently on the ground, and took a single, hesitant step forward.
It was the tiniest move, but it sent a ripple through Tarymn, unsettling him in a way he couldn’t quite name, like something deep inside him had been knocked off balance.
“Ludiin?” he asked, his throat suddenly tight.
The omega smiled, soft, small, almost hesitant, but it hit Tarymn like a blow to the chest.
Fucking gorgeous. That was all he could think, and the realization startled him. His heart stuttered, then pounded so hard he felt lightheaded, as if the air had thinned around them.
He shook his head, trying to chase the thought away, but it clung stubbornly to the back of his mind. What the hell was he thinking?
Then Ludiin spoke again. “Your eyes…”Tarymn’s brow furrowed.
“What?”
“They’re gold. They’re beautiful.”
He blinked, caught off guard, and stared at the omega. The air between them shifted—thickening, buzzing, as if something unseen stirred awake in the silence.
Ludiin stepped closer, the light catching the delicate lines of his face, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.” A pause, then—
“Dad said you’d come. And you did.”
The words hit Tarymn like a cold slap across the face. Sobering. Tarymn’s spine stiffened, the moment dissolving into something heavier, something he didn’t want to touch.
“Of course,” he said briskly. “Pitra will show you to your room.”
“Where would you prefer…” Pitra began.
“Anywhere is fine,” Tarymn snapped, his tone harsher than intended as he turned on his heel. He strode toward the front door, too many emotions pressing against his chest. He needed space.