The initial days in the dungeon were a crucible of agonizing suffering. Arion's body was a warzone—the relentless, demanding pregnant heat threatened to consume his sanity, amplified by the cold and the gnawing hunger. The biological imperative to scream for Kyon was almost unbearable. He writhed on the cold stone, sweating and shaking, fighting the hormonal tide with every fiber of his being.
But Arion was the Dragon-Slayer for a reason. He had faced down annihilation before. Slowly, painstakingly, the soldier in him began to assert control over the broken omega. He realized that the torture was designed not just to punish him, but to keep him weak, focused on his need for Kyon. That realization ignited a spark of cold, hard fury—a defiance more potent than any heat.
He started small. Every time his mind drifted to Kyon's possessive touch, he would force himself to think of the dossier, the lie, the smug betrayal in the prince's eyes. He hammered the truth of the betrayal into his mind, using the white-hot rage to burn away the lingering influence of Kyon's alpha pheromones and the treacherous pleasure of the night. He used the pain of his hunger and the constant ache of his swollen body as a grounding force, a constant reminder that he was not a vessel, but a warrior.
He began a ruthless mental program of self-purging. He recalled the harsh, brutal training he had endured during his youth before entering the royal military camp—weeks of starvation drills, forced marches without water, and sleep deprivation designed to break men and forge soldiers. He remembered the old training mantra: The mind controls the body. The body is merely a tool.
He started his own regimen in the blackness. He used the limited space to perform isometric exercises, pressing against the walls and floor until his muscles burned. He did slow, agonizing crunches, his hand instinctively cradling the growing swelling in his abdomen with a mixture of dread and fierce, protective defiance. He needed to be strong, not just for himself, but for the life within him—a life that was now inextricably linked to his survival.
His endurance was helped by a single, unexpected kindness. One of the guards, an older beta with tired eyes named Joris, took pity on the legendary warrior. Joris didn't speak, but every day, when he brought Arion's allotted single pitcher of murky water, he would also slip a small, dry piece of bread under the door. It was meager, but it was enough to keep Arion from total collapse. Arion would nod once, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken lifeline, and focus on surviving another twenty-four hours.
The heat eventually subsided, its powerful intensity giving way to the normal, manageable needs of a pregnant omega. Arion's focus sharpened. He pushed the fear of the future away, focusing only on the present: survival. He measured the passage of time by the changing dampness of the stone and the subtle shifts in the routine of the guards.
Four months passed. The change in Arion was profound. He was leaner, harder, his eyes possessing a cold, unwavering intensity. His pregnancy was now undeniable, the swelling visible beneath his ragged tunic, but he carried it with the same rigid posture he carried his sword. He had forged his body into a cold furnace of will, proving that even with few food and water, his alpha training and inherent soldier's resilience allowed him to endure.
Then, the outside world started to bleed into his cell. Guards grew lax with their whispers. Arion strained to listen, piecing together the broken fragments of conversation.
"...and the Jade Heart is truly secured in the Prince's vaults. Kyon played the weakling beautifully..."
"...Valerius's trust is complete. They say Kyon will now be named heir to the Western Throne as well, solidifying the alliance..., how about the dragon slayer or the supposed black tiger of the north?!"
"...The Dragon-Slayer? Traitor. Haven't seen him in months. Kyon said he'd ensure he rotted..."
The realization hit Arion with a cold, clear clarity. Kyon hadn't just secured an alliance; he had used Arion's arrest to vault himself into a position of unimaginable power, seizing both the Jade Heart and the Western succession to gain his father throne . Arion was a discarded piece of evidence. His rage was no longer a hormonal flare; it was a deep, sustained hatred that fueled his will to survive, he had survived a full four months in here, maybe just maybe he could survive a bit more .
*
*
*
Three more months passed . Seven months total now. Arion was heavily pregnant, his movements slower, but his resolve was iron. He was weaker physically, but mentally, he was sharper than ever. He was no longer fighting his betrayal; he was planning his revenge. Kyon had made a mistake: he had left the Dragon-Slayer alive.
He start planning from then on a solution for his revenge, I won't turn around the same thing, love then betrayal and then love again fuck it all , he says himself. Arion start counting gold coins pieces.
•one hundred golden coins•
Enough for some food and new clothes, " will loris add me some more if I ask him?" He sighs and lean against the wall. " for how long will I be close here?! Am I really gonna rot in this cell with a new born?!" He ruffle his hair feeling frustrated slightly.
Passing by guard start laughing and glancing at him . " did you think this was some kind of Romain or romantic story, you thought it'll be a enemy to lover thing?" The first guard laugh meanwhile the second one simply look .
" you all have got fool around," arion say smiling proudly. " the person you are calling omega crown prince is a fake one and you still believe his joke" Arion look them with a furious stare.
The guard simply laugh at him " trying to lie now huh! You aren't just a spy but a seductive spy now? Careful you might get fuck with that massive belly of yours!" The guard tsk at him and hit his cell bar with their feet, Arion barely flinched, he glare at them.
" stop! He is going to get set free soon don't make a fuss right now we might get our head cut off" the second guard finally talk , he turn and walk away, he simply give Arion a pity and weak comforting smile the first guard point his middle fingers at Arion and walk away from the dungeon darkness. But Arion had hear it , tomorrow was it!, I'm gonna be set free soon!, he smile weakly and lean back on the wall breathing heavily slowly.
"Finally I won't have to eat a single bread by day, I'll have to apologize to my father at some point he had right" he sigh weakly a smile on his lips.
His breast had grown fuller and rounded, oh my good milk (^•^), he had been enduring this uncomfortable feeling for so long now he was going to be set free soon , well that what he thought at first.