After a long walk thy finally reached The Sun Room, it was usually reserved for quiet reading or afternoon tea, hummed with a tense, bewildered energy. Torvin had swiftly retrieved Aiden from the stables, and the infant, startled by the sudden change of hands, let out a distressed wail. Arion, exhausted, watched as his younger brother the blunt, powerful alpha who had always chafed under their father's rules instantly transformed. Torvin held the baby with an awkward gentleness, his rough hands supporting the small, warm body.
"He's tiny," Torvin murmured, his voice stripped of its usual bravado. He looked at the child's face, his eyes drawn instantly to the striking blue amber color. "By the gods, those eyes... they are Kyon's, aren't they? It's like staring at the Serpent as an infant." The distaste was clear, but the familial bond was stronger. He adjusted the baby in his arms, the scent of the newborn alpha subtly mingling with his own.
The Duchess Maeva , after a tearful, silent embrace with Arion, had immediately sent Bartholomew to prepare the best nursery suite and fetch fresh clothes. She sat beside Arion now, her face etched with exhaustion and worry, holding his hand tightly.
"Arion, my son," she began, her voice low and firm, "tell me everything. Not the soldier's version, but the truth. That mark on your neck, the sudden change... the rumors of the King's Guard testing illegal compounds... did Kyon do this to you?"
Arion took a shaky breath, the warmth of his mother's presence a painful reminder of the life he'd forfeited. "Yes, Mother. It was Kyon. It wasn't a natural change. It was a biological agent a serum he likely intended to use on a political rival, but he tested it on me first. It turned me into an omega. The mark... that was his claim. The arrest... that was his political leverage."
"And the child?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.
"Aiden was conceived the night before the arrest. In the infirmary, and again at Valerius's palace. He used my body as a tool of political deceit, securing his alliance and the Jade Heart. He tossed me into the dungeon to die." Arion swallowed the rising bitterness. "I endured the pregnancy in Valerius's dungeons for seven months before they let me go."
The Duchess closed her eyes, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "My God. The shame... the cruelty! Your father will never forgive this dishonor."
"I don't need his forgiveness," Arion stated, his old alpha pride briefly surfacing. "I need his protection. Aiden is the blood of two great houses. If Kyon finds out Aiden is alive and well, he won't hesitate to use the child as a pawn against the Duke's power, or worse, against me. I need the Eastern walls to shield him until I am ready to move."
Before the Duchess could respond, the doors burst open, and Lady Lyly rushed in. Arion's little sister, a vibrant alpha studying at the distant Capital University, had dropped everything when Torvin's urgent, coded message reached her dorm. She was dressed in student clothes, her dark hair flying behind her, her expression a mix of fierce concern and anger.
"Torvin! What is going on? You said Arion was here and that he was hurt, and that Father was being—" Lyly stopped dead, her eyes falling on Arion, then sweeping to the infant in Torvin's arms. She saw Arion's pallor and the distinct curve of his abdomen the lingering signs of his ordeal.
"Lyly," Arion greeted, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips for the first time in months.
Lyly didn't hesitate. She rushed to Arion, pulling him into a fierce hug. "Oh, Arion! You absolute idiot! Why didn't you come here the moment you were turned? We would have hidden you!" She pulled back, her eyes flashing with righteous fury. "And this is Kyon's child? That poisonous snake! I heard the rumors about him consolidating power; he's going to seize the throne soon!"
She turned to the baby, her rage immediately melting into cooing softness. "Hello there, little alpha. Aren't you handsome? You have your mother's eyebrows, though." She gently took the baby from Torvin, cradling him expertly. Lyly's own alpha scent crisp pine and mint immediately surrounded the child, a subtle, protective barrier.
*
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*
"We need a strategy," Lyly declared, rocking the baby gently. "We need to hide him and we need to rebuild Arion. He needs a healer, proper food, and a new identity."
Torvin paced the room, his fists clenched. "I agree. We tell Father that Arion came home disgraced, and that the child is his. We claim it as a bastard heir from an unfortunate liaison. It happens all the time. But we say nothing about the omega change or Kyon's involvement. Father's pride won't allow him to throw out his own grandson, even a bastard."
The Duchess nodded firmly. "It's the only way. Arion, you must stay hidden within these walls. You will be healed, you will regain your strength, and we will protect Aiden. You will not face Kyon until you are ready."
Arion felt a powerful emotion rising—the overwhelming relief of having his family back, a fierce, protective wall against the cruelty of the outside world. He looked at his siblings, Torvin watching him with worried respect, and Lyly cuddling his son with instant, fierce love.
"Thank you," Arion murmured, the simple words heavy with all the emotion he couldn't articulate. "I will not bring shame to this house again. I only ask for the time to heal and prepare. Kyon will pay for this. For all of it."
Throughout the entire confrontation and strategy session, the Duke remained resolute. Bartholomew reported that the Duke was sequestered in his study, refusing all meals and contact. "His Grace says he will not break his word. The matter of Lord Arion is closed." His obstinance was a cold, hard barrier, but one that his family was now determined to circumvent for the sake of the Dragon-Slayer and his unexpected son.
*
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*
The discussion, fraught with tension and political danger, was suddenly interrupted by a small, urgent sound. Aiden, who had been quietly looking up at Lyly with his solemn blue amber eyes, decided the lapse in his mother's presence was unacceptable. His lower lip began to tremble, and a small, unhappy wail escaped him. A second later, he burst into tears, his face scrunching up into an irresistibly cute mask of distress.
Duchess Maeva instantly rose, her maternal instincts overriding the political crisis. "Oh, my poor grandson! He's overstimulated. He needs his mother."
Aiden's crying intensified, not just a shout, but a series of desperate whimpers and frantic little kicks. He reached his tiny arms out to Arion, his small body convulsing as he cried out, clearly needing Arion to carry him.
Lyly, though heartbroken to let him go, gently passed the distressed infant to Arion. The moment Aiden was nestled against his mother's chest, his small, distressed body settling against the remnants of Arion's tunic, the tears subsided almost instantly into sniffling hiccups. Arion began to rock him slowly, the familiar, comforting rhythm a silent language between them.
Maeva looked on, her initial shock now softened by a wave of protective tenderness. "The poor darling. He is entirely dependent on you, Arion. We must not separate you. He needs your scent." She reached out, her fingers brushing the dark hair on Aiden's head. "He is pure Eastern blood, Arion. No matter what his father is, he is our lineage."
"He is the reason I came back," Arion confessed, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I am nothing to Father, but perhaps the sight of his own grandson ,Kyon's heir will be the leverage we need to keep these doors locked against the outside world."
Torvin, still visibly unsettled by the raw emotional scene but completely won over by the silent, dependent child, nodded grimly. "We will ensure Father sees him, Mother. Even if we have to carry Aiden right into his study. A Duke's pride is one thing, but a potential heir, especially one who looks like that little tyrant's miniature twin, is another."
Maeva smiled faintly through her worry. "Go now, Arion. Bartholomew will show you to the nursery. Rest. Eat. We will handle your father, and we will protect your son."
As Arion, holding his silent, sleeping son, was led away by the butler, he took one last look at his mother and siblings. They were closing ranks, a formidable, united front against the storm he had brought with him. He had lost his name, his rank, and his freedom, but in their eyes, he had found something far more valuable: a safe harbor.
Meanwhile, Bartholomew returned to the Duke's study, knocking softly on the heavy oak door. The Duke of the East finally relented, allowing the butler to enter.
"Did that rogue finally depart, Bartholomew?" the Duke barked, his voice filled with hard frustration.
Bartholomew's voice was measured, respectful, but held an iron firmness. "His Grace, your son has retired to the nursery suite, accompanied by the Duchess and Lord Torvin. He has brought a child, a grandson, Your Grace. The boy is the son of Prince Kyon."
The Duke froze, the quill he was holding snapping in his grip. The cold silence in the room was absolute. He stared at the butler, his old eyes blazing with shock, fury, and a terrible, dawning realization of the complex betrayal. He had broken his alpha son, but now his alpha son had returned with the ultimate weapon of the Serpent King, a tiny miniature of the blue amber eyes prince was about to cause other problems in the eastern states.