The sky had darkened, thick clouds rolling in over the towering pines that loomed above the secluded forest road. Lyrian stood at the edge of the clearing, his arms wrapped protectively around the small bundle cradled against his chest. His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at his son, a faint tremor in his hands. Dorian was quiet now, the soft rise and fall of his chest rhythmic, his tiny face serene despite the gathering storm.
A car waited just beyond the treeline, its sleek black body a stark contrast to the raw wilderness around them. The headlights cast long shadows through the trees, illuminating the small clearing where Lyrian and Kaelen Solros-Rhelon stood. The Omega couple had spent weeks in hiding, moving from place to place, but they both knew they could not outrun what was coming.
Kaelen, standing beside Lyrian, glanced nervously at the vehicle. His golden-brown eyes were sharp, his posture tense, but there was a resigned acceptance in his expression. He knew this moment was inevitable.
"They're here," Kaelen murmured, his voice low and strained. His hand slipped around Lyrian's waist, grounding him, though both of them felt as though they were being ripped apart inside. "It's time."
Lyrian squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead briefly against Kaelen's. "I don't know if I can," He whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his heartache. He felt the warmth of Dorian's small body through the blanket, the faint scent of sandalwood and dark spice that was uniquely his son's.
"We have to," Kaelen replied, though his own voice cracked with the effort to remain strong. "We don't have a choice."
The forest felt suffocating, even though it had once been their sanctuary. They had been running for months—running to keep their son safe from the eyes of the world, from the Alphas who would see Dorian as nothing more than an anomaly to control. An Alpha, born to two Omegas, was unheard of—dangerous, even. It was a miracle, but it had placed them all in peril.
From the shadows, two figures emerged, stepping into the dim light cast by the car's headlights. Eryx Vaelis and his wife, Cassandra, moved with the cold, calculated grace of those accustomed to control. Their presence was commanding, even in the simplicity of their dark, tailored coats. Eryx's pale blue eyes flicked briefly to the child in Lyrian's arms, while Cassandra's sharp gaze remained fixed on the couple before them, assessing every detail with silent precision.
Lyrian's arms tightened instinctively around Dorian, but Kaelen's hand on his back was the only thing keeping him from running. "He'll be safe with them," Kaelen whispered, though the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.
Eryx stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You have our word," He said flatly, his voice devoid of warmth or sympathy. "He will be raised as an Alpha. No one will know the truth."
Lyrian's throat tightened. He glanced at Kaelen, whose face was pale but set with grim determination. They had known this day would come, but nothing could have prepared them for the reality of handing over their son. The ache in Lyrian's chest was unbearable, but he knew—deep down—that this was the only way to keep Dorian safe.
With trembling hands, Lyrian stepped forward, feeling the soft weight of Dorian in his arms for what he knew would be the last time. He pressed his lips to the infant's forehead, inhaling deeply, trying to memorize every detail—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his breath, the tiny fingers curled against his chest.
"I'm so sorry," Lyrian whispered into the soft fabric of the blanket, his tears threatening to fall. "Please forgive me."
Kaelen's grip tightened on Lyrian's shoulder, his own eyes red-rimmed but dry. "We'll find him again," Kaelen promised, though neither of them knew if they ever would.
Reluctantly, Lyrian extended his arms, handing Dorian over to Eryx. The Alpha took the child without hesitation, his cold, calculating gaze meeting Lyrian's for only a second before shifting away. There was no emotion in his expression, no sign of empathy or understanding—just duty.
Beside him, Cassandra watched in silence, her dark amber eyes sharp and unreadable. She said nothing, but her presence was palpable, a force that demanded control even without words.
With Dorian now in Eryx's arms, the Vaelis couple turned back toward their waiting car. The sleek, black vehicle hummed with silent power, a symbol of their wealth and influence in this world. Lyrian's heart twisted as the rear door opened, and Cassandra slipped inside with the fluid grace of someone who had long mastered the art of appearing untouchable.
Eryx followed, carefully positioning the child in the carrier next to his wife. The door shut with a soft click, sealing Dorian away from the life he had known for only a few short weeks.
As the car pulled away, its taillights disappeared down the long, winding road, Lyrian's knees buckled. He collapsed into Kaelen's arms, the weight of their loss crashing down on him in waves. Kaelen held him tightly, though his own body trembled with the effort to hold back his grief.
"They're gone," Lyrian choked out, his voice barely audible above the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.
"He's gone."
_
Inside the Vaelis car, the atmosphere was silent, heavy with unspoken words. Cassandra watched the infant, now buckled into the high-end car seat with meticulous care. Her sharp gaze lingered on him for a moment before turning toward Eryx, who sat beside her, his expression cold and detached.
"He's smaller than I expected," Cassandra remarked, her voice a quiet hum, more of an observation than a concern.
Eryx's pale eyes didn't shift from the road ahead. "He's an Alpha. He'll grow into his strength."
The hum of the engine was the only sound for a long moment, the city lights of their estate flickering in the distance as they drove through the winding roads. The Vaelis estate, a sprawling, modern mansion nestled in the hills, loomed ahead like a fortress of glass and stone.
Cassandra's lips pressed into a thin line. "We'll need to be careful with him."
Eryx turned his head slightly, his icy gaze meeting hers. "Careful?"
"He was raised by Omegas," She said, her voice as smooth as ever, but with an undercurrent of concern. "We don't know what kind of... habits or softness they might have nurtured in him."
Eryx's gaze returned to the road, his jaw tight. "Any softness will be corrected."
Cassandra nodded once, satisfied with the response. "We should start immediately. No delays."
The car pulled into the long driveway of their estate, the tall iron gates swinging open as the security system recognized their approach. The house rose before them, all sleek glass and polished steel, a testament to the Vaelis family's wealth and power. The doors opened automatically as they stepped out, Eryx carefully unbuckling Dorian from his seat.
As they walked inside, the cool, minimalist interior of the mansion swallowed them in silence. Everything was perfectly in place, every surface gleaming with perfection—just as their son's future would be.
Eryx cradled the sleeping child as they ascended the wide staircase toward the nursery they had meticulously prepared. The room was stark and functional, devoid of the soft, comforting touches one might expect for a child. Everything was designed with precision, from the high-tech crib to the advanced monitoring system.
"He will learn," Eryx said quietly, placing Dorian into the crib with an almost clinical detachment. "He will grow into his role as an Alpha."
Cassandra stood beside him, her gaze fixed on the sleeping child. "Yes," She agreed, her voice as cold as the room around them. "He will forget where he came from."
As the Vaelis family settled into the cold comfort of their modern, powerful world, the storm continued to rage outside, a distant echo of the pain left behind in the forest. But in this house, there was no room for sentimentality, no space for the past.
Only the future.