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."