The world was always dark to Eden, but it had never felt so cold. His father had died two days ago, fallen in the line of duty, protecting the very king who had never truly seen him.

Eden sat in his chambers, his hands resting on the smooth, cool wood of his father’s desk. His father’s scent lingered faintly—wood, leather, the faintest trace of battle-scarred metal. The smell was comforting, grounding. But now, it was a reminder of the unshakable loss.

His mother had said nothing since the day his father was laid to rest. She remained in the corner of their small home within the palace, staring into space, the shadows under her eyes deepening with every passing hour. Eden had heard her cry once, soft, broken sobs that only someone who truly knew loss could make. He had tried to comfort her, but it was hard. He had no words, no strength to offer her.

His father's death had been a blow to the kingdom. The king, in his grief, had promised Eden’s family that they would be cared for—safe. But Eden wasn’t sure that was a comfort. He was an omega and an unimportant one at that. His blindness made him invisible to most of the court, but not to everyone.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in,” Eden called, his voice hoarse from the lack of sleep. He didn’t need to see who it was to know. He could sense the energy in the room shift as the door creaked open.

Lady Alara, his mother’s close friend, stepped into the room. “Eden,” she said quietly, her voice gentle. “The King’s men are here to escort you to the palace.”

Eden’s heart dropped. The King’s men. There could only be one reason for their arrival. The King had already sent his condolences, but this was something else. Something darker.

“Why?” Eden asked, though he already knew the answer. His father had died protecting the King during a rebellion that nearly tore the kingdom apart. It was the least the King could do, though Eden knew it was probably just a formality.

“They wish to speak with you,” Lady Alara said, her voice tight with unspoken worry.

“About what?” Eden’s pulse quickened. He could feel the tension in her words in the air.

“They want you to come with them.”

Eden’s heart sank. The King’s men weren’t known for their kindness. They were powerful and ruthless. And they didn’t see Omegas like him as people—they saw them as tools and pawns in a much larger game.

“I’ll be fine,” Eden said, trying to sound stronger than he felt.

Lady Alara didn't respond immediately, but he could feel her eyes on him. Eden’s sense of smell picked up her lingering hesitation, the faintest hint of fear.

After a moment, she finally spoke. “They are taking you to the Prince.”

The Prince. Prince Darian.

Eden had heard whispers about the Prince—about how he had a reputation for being unpredictable, cruel even. The Prince’s heart, some said, was as cold as the stone walls of the palace. He was known for being ruthless in battle, a natural leader, and a powerful Alpha, but there were rumours, too. Rumours that he had a darkness to him, one that few dared to speak of out loud.

Eden had never met the Prince. He’d seen him only from a distance, always flanked by soldiers and advisers. But despite his distance from the royal family, Eden had heard enough to know that Prince Darian wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

“I don’t want to go,” Eden murmured, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know why they want me. I’m nothing more than an Omega.”

Lady Alara’s fingers gently touched his shoulder. “The King wants to offer you a position at court,” she said softly. “You must go. It’s an honour.”

“An honour?” Eden’s laugh was bitter. “A blind Omega as a court advisor? How is that an honour?”

“Not advisor,” Lady Alara corrected gently. “A companion. Perhaps more than that.”

Eden recoiled, though he knew she wasn’t speaking ill of him. He didn’t need her to say the words. He understood the unspeakable truth. Omegas, especially those as young and vulnerable as him, were often used as companions by powerful Alphas. He’d heard the stories.

“Go with them,” Lady Alara urged. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

With one last glance at his mother, Eden nodded stiffly. He stood up from his father’s desk and walked toward the door, his mind swirling with dread.

The King’s men were waiting for him just outside the door, their cold stares unnerving as they led him through the sprawling corridors of the palace. Eden tried not to let his nerves show, though his heart pounded in his chest. He had always been cautious and always kept his distance from the royal family, but today, he felt different.

As they reached the Prince’s private chambers, Eden’s breath caught in his throat. The door opened, and the Prince stood there, a tall, imposing figure framed by the soft golden light spilling in from the windows.

Prince Darian was exactly as Eden had imagined. His sharp jaw, the piercing eyes of a man who had seen war and brutality, and the aura of power that radiated from him was unmistakable. But there was something else too. Something darker behind the Prince’s gaze. Something Eden couldn’t quite place.

“You’re the blind Omega,” the Prince’s voice was smooth, yet edged with a certain harshness. “I’ve heard much about you.”

Eden stiffened, his hands trembling at his sides. “I am Eden.”

Prince Darian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Eden.” He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. “You’re not what I expected.”

Eden’s senses flared. There was something about the Prince’s proximity that felt...dangerous. The way his gaze lingered on Eden, like he was sizing him up, calculating his worth. It made Eden feel like prey, like he was being trapped in a net he couldn’t see.

“I thought blind Omegas were supposed to be weak,” Darian mused, his voice low and almost thoughtful.

Eden’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not weak.”

The Prince’s eyes darkened, a sharp edge to his smile. “We’ll see.”

Eden barely had time to process the words that had left the Prince's lips before the door slammed shut behind him. He stood in the centre of the Prince’s chambers, suddenly very aware of the cold, sterile atmosphere that surrounded him. The walls were lined with dark tapestries, and the air smelled faintly of incense and polished wood—a scent that could have been comforting if not for the heavy weight of the Prince’s presence.

Darian's gaze never wavered from Eden. The silence between them was thick, suffocating, as if the Prince was deciding what to do with the young Omega. Eden’s pulse raced, and his hands curled into fists at his sides, fighting the urge to flee.

There was no way out.

“You’re not what I expected,” Darian said again, his voice smooth, almost mocking. “They say blind Omegas are weak, helpless, but you seem... different.”

Eden’s breath hitched. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, keeping his head slightly lowered to avoid looking directly at the prince. His blind eyes were still a source of shame to him, though he’d learned to navigate the world without them. But in the presence of someone like Darian, he felt exposed—vulnerable.

Darian took a step closer, his boots making a soft thud against the marble floor. Eden stiffened instinctively, but he refused to step back. He wouldn't show fear, not yet. Not when he still had the strength to stand.

"You know," Darian said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "it’s funny. I always thought I knew what power looked like. But now..." His fingers brushed against Eden's cheek, a gesture that felt far too intimate. Eden's breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to remain still. "Power doesn’t look like what I imagined. It looks like you."

Eden flinched at the touch, but Darian didn’t seem to care. His fingers lingered for a moment, then slid down to Eden's jaw, tilting his head up so their faces were mere inches apart.

For the first time since entering the room, Eden felt an overwhelming wave of fear, suffocating in its intensity. This was no ordinary prince. Darian didn’t just possess power—he exuded it, like a predator circling its prey, biding its time before the kill.

“I don’t belong here,” Eden whispered, though the words felt weak even as they left his lips. “I don’t want to be your...companion.”

Darian’s eyes darkened, his smile slipping into something far more dangerous. He stepped back, taking in Eden’s form as though he were inspecting some rare, delicate creature.

“You don’t have a choice, Eden.” His voice was hard, final. “You’re mine now.”

The words echoed in Eden’s mind long after the Prince had said them. He didn’t know why, but the certainty in Darian’s voice frightened him more than the physical closeness ever could. There was something in his tone that spoke of finality—a declaration, not a request.

Before Eden could respond, a soft knock at the door interrupted them. The heavy door creaked open to reveal a tall servant, her eyes quickly darting to the prince before settling on Eden.

“Your Highness,” the servant said, bowing deeply. “The King requests your presence.”

Darian didn’t acknowledge her immediately. His eyes were still fixed on Eden, and Eden felt as though he were being suffocated by the weight of that gaze. After a long moment, Darian finally turned his attention to the servant.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Darian said, his voice cold and commanding.

The servant bowed again and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Darian’s attention returned to Eden, and for a moment, there was an unsettling silence between them. Eden had no idea what the Prince was thinking. But the oppressive atmosphere made his skin crawl, his heart pounding in his chest.

"You should stay here until I return," Darian said, his tone softening, but there was something almost possessive about it. "I’ll make sure you’re...comfortable."

The word "comfortable" felt like a cruel joke. He knew what the Prince was capable of, what his power could do to someone as weak as him.

“I won’t stay here,” Eden said, his voice quieter but filled with determination. “You can’t make me.”

Darian smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who was used to breaking people, used to getting exactly what he wanted. His hand reached out and gently cupped Eden’s face again, his thumb brushing lightly over Eden’s lips.

“I don’t think you have a choice,” he said. “But don’t worry, Eden. I’ll take good care of you.”

Eden recoiled slightly at the touch but said nothing. His mind raced. How did I end up here?

Was this really happening? Was this his life now?

The sound of Darian’s footsteps retreating broke him from his reverie. The Prince turned, walking toward the door, but before he left, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

“Don’t try to leave,” Darian added, his voice lowering to a near growl. “I’ll know if you do.”

Then, without another word, he exited the room, leaving Eden alone with his thoughts, the heavy silence pressing down on him like a vice.

Eden stood there for several minutes, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the walls closing in around him, the weight of the Prince’s words hanging over him like a dark cloud. He hadn’t known what to expect from this encounter, but this... this was far worse than he could have imagined.

A sense of hopelessness gnawed at him, but he refused to give in. He had to escape. He had to find a way out of here, away from Darian, away from this nightmare. But he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not even for a moment.

Eden’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. He tensed, instinctively taking a step back. But when the door opened, it wasn’t the Prince—it was a young servant girl, her eyes wide with fear.

“Please,” the girl whispered, stepping quickly into the room. “You have to leave. You can’t stay here.”

Eden froze, confused. “Leave? Why? What’s going on?”

“Just trust me,” the servant girl urged, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “If you stay here, you’ll never be free again. Come with me.”

The servant girl’s eyes were wide with panic, her body rigid as she scanned the room for any signs of danger. Eden could feel the tension in the air as though it had a weight, pressing down on him. He stood completely still, listening closely, focusing on her voice as it trembled with urgency.

"Please," the girl whispered again, her voice strained. "You have to come with me. Now."

Eden swallowed hard. He didn't know who she was or why she was trying to help him, but her voice held a quiet desperation that reached into his chest. In the silence of the room, the anxiety in her tone was palpable.

“I can’t trust you,” Eden replied, though he wished he didn’t have to say it. The very idea of trusting someone—anyone—felt dangerous. "You might be working for him."

The girl’s voice dropped, soft and sincere. "I’m not. I know what he’s like, what he does to people like you." Her words hit him like a stone, raw and heavy with truth. "He’ll break you if you stay here. Please, you have to trust me.”

Eden’s throat tightened. His mind raced. If Darian truly was as dangerous as the rumours said, then staying here meant certain pain. Maybe worse. But could he afford to take the risk of following a stranger into the unknown? His hands clenched at his sides, the familiar anxiety curling in his gut.

But something in the girl’s voice stopped him. The fear in her voice felt real—too real. She wasn’t just trying to manipulate him; she was afraid, too. Eden didn’t know what this girl had been through, but she wasn’t offering him escape for her own benefit. Maybe, just maybe, she was telling the truth.

He nodded slowly. "I’ll go."

The servant girl’s relief was palpable. She reached out to him, her hand gripping his wrist. "We don’t have time to waste."

Without further explanation, she pulled him toward the window. Eden’s heart skipped a beat. His pulse throbbed in his ears. The sound of the wind rushing through the trees outside was a stark contrast to the cold stillness of the room. He could feel the drop. The height.

The rope she pulled from her bag made a soft rustling sound as it unspooled. She worked quickly, but Eden's senses were more focused on her movement than the rope itself. He could hear her breathing—quick, urgent—and the subtle scrape of her boots on the floor as she positioned the rope.

"Don’t worry, I’ll go first," she said quietly, her hand gently guiding him to the edge of the window. "Just follow me."

Eden's stomach flipped. He could hear the world outside—the faint rustling of leaves, the sound of birds somewhere in the distance, the ever-present hum of the palace that seemed to follow him everywhere. It was disorienting, being so far out of his comfort zone. But the fear of staying behind, of what Darian might do to him, pushed him forward.

She tied the rope securely and began to climb out, her hands steady. Eden took a deep breath and reached for the rope, feeling its texture beneath his fingers. The roughness of the rope, the slight give, grounded him for a moment. He could do this.

The girl’s voice came softly from below. "Don’t think about it, just follow."

Eden steadied himself, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. Every instinct screamed for him to pull back, to freeze, but the fear of staying trapped in Darian’s world pushed him to keep moving. He gripped the rope tightly, trying to ignore the ache in his palms as he began his descent.

The rope swayed slightly, and Eden felt the shift in pressure, his body lurching as he went lower. His breath came faster. He couldn’t see the ground, but he could feel the air—faster, colder the further down he went. His feet brushed against the side of the wall, and his stomach twisted. He knew this was dangerous.

“Focus on my voice,” the servant girl called up, her tone sharp but encouraging. “Keep going.”

The rope strained beneath him, and Eden couldn’t help but grimace as his weight pulled harder on the rope. He didn’t know how far down they were, but it felt like an eternity. He gritted his teeth, blocking out the fear, listening to the servant’s voice like a lifeline.

Suddenly, he felt his foot slip. Panic surged through him as he fought to regain his balance. He clutched harder to the rope, his body stiff with terror.

And then—his feet hit something solid. The ground.

Eden stumbled and gasped, trying to catch his breath. His legs felt like jelly beneath him, unsteady and weak. His heart still thudded in his chest as though it might burst from the pressure.

"Are you alright?" The servant girl was at his side in an instant, her hand guiding his arm gently.

"I—I think so," Eden whispered, his voice shaky as he took a step forward. The world felt strange. His senses were overstimulated. He couldn’t see, but he could hear, feel, and smell everything around him in overwhelming detail. The fresh air, the scent of dirt and grass beneath his feet. The sounds of the forest were both comforting and unsettling in their unfamiliarity.

“Keep moving,” the servant girl urged, her voice closer now. “They’ll be looking for us. We have to go.”

The woods felt endless, the quiet rustle of the trees filling his ears, the earth soft beneath his bare feet. He could hear the faint snap of twigs, the wind rustling in the leaves, but there were no clear directions—only the servant girl’s voice.

He wasn’t sure how long they walked, but the girl never let go of his arm. It was the only thing that kept him from falling, from losing his way. Each step was a battle, but somehow, he kept moving, kept following her.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the servant girl stopped. Eden could feel the shift in her posture, the way her body tensed slightly as she turned to face him.

“We’re safe for now,” she whispered. “But we can’t stay here long.”

Eden nodded, though he wasn’t sure what came next. He was still reeling from the escape, his head spinning with the knowledge that he had just fled the Prince’s grasp. But there was one question that hung over him—unanswered.

Where would they go?

“I know a place,” the servant girl said, her voice steady. “But you have to trust me. I’ll protect you.”

Eden closed his eyes for a moment. The world still felt surreal. But for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe in something other than fear.

He didn’t know where he was headed, but he knew one thing for sure. He was no longer trapped. And that thought, however small, was the most powerful thing he’d felt in days.