Evan Arden was sobbing.
Not the quiet, controlled kind of sobbing that came from heartbreak or genuine pain. No, this was theatrical. Dramatic. The kind of sobbing that belonged on a stage, paired with a tragic spotlight and a handkerchief soaked with tears.
He threw himself across the velvet chaise in the center of the Arden estate's parlor, his face buried in an embroidered cushion. Black curls spread around him like an untamed halo, his pale shoulders trembling.
"I won't do it!" Evan wailed, voice cracking. "I can't marry that monster!"
His mother, Lyra Arden, rushed to his side in a heartbeat.
"Sweetheart—please—" She reached out, but Evan slapped her hand away, tears gleaming like diamonds on his cheeks.
"No! You don't understand!" he yelled, dramatic as ever. "Lucian Thorne destroys lives! He burns people from the inside out! I'll die!"
A tiny sniff. A trembling lip. Evan had mastered the art of appearing delicate.
His father, Rowan Arden, stood near the fireplace, face drained of color. As an Omega himself, he knew better than anyone the horrors that could befall an Omega in the wrong power dynamic. Lucian Thorne wasn't just any Alpha — he was that Alpha.
"Evan…" Rowan approached slowly. "The alliance was sealed between our families long ago. Backing out now—"
"Means war," Evan spat between sobs. He sat up, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed. "I know. I know all of it. You think I don't? You think I haven't read about those people—those victims—you think I want to be one of them?"
His voice went soft, fragile. He hugged himself. "I'm terrified, Father…"
Silence fell.
Across the room, standing in the doorway, was Caleb Arden.
The tall Beta watched quietly, face blank, hands curled into fists behind his back. He had stepped into the room seconds before the chaos began—but hadn't announced himself. Not yet. Caleb always waited.
Always observed.
And always swallowed his own needs for others.
He watched Evan's shoulders tremble. Watched as Lyra stroked her son's hair and murmured soothing words. Watched as Rowan leaned his head against the mantel, looking twenty years older.
Caleb felt something constrict. Something like pity.
Something like resignation.
"Caleb."
His name echoed in the room.
Evan froze mid-sob, head snapping up. He turned to face his older brother, eyes already rimmed with tears and resentment.
"You're just going to watch?" Evan hissed. "All of this is happening—and you have nothing to say?"
Caleb stepped in. "I—"
"You gave me to him!" Evan shouted, pointing accusingly. "You told me it was 'fine,' that it 'wouldn't be as bad as it seems'! Or did you think letting your Omega brother become the Thorne's puppet was a good idea?"
Caleb stiffened. That wasn't what he said. But it was easier to let Evan twist the truth than fight.
"I said I'd protect you," Caleb corrected softly. "That I'd make sure he never laid a hand on you."
Evan laughed sharply. "Protect me? How? Stand in front of the Alpha everyone fears? You'll die."
Caleb's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He knew Evan's anger wasn't really pointed at him — it was pointed at the situation. At the system. At the inevitable.
Still, it stung.
Lyra's voice broke through shakily. "The engagement is vital. We… we can't go to war again. Not after everything."
Rowan's eyes were fixed on Evan. Hollow. Guilty. Afraid.
Evan sniffed loudly, lowering his head. "I don't want to be sacrificed," he whispered. "I'm not strong like you both think. I'll break."
Caleb flinched.
He knew that tone.
Evan's voice could turn entire rooms against someone—while making himself look like the tragic victim. Fragile. Precious. And that defenseless mask disarmed everyone, turned truth to smoke.
Caleb swallowed the guilt rising in his chest.
"I'll do anything… anything," Evan said, shoulders heaving. "Just don't make me marry him."
Silence again.
Aunt Mira stepped in quietly from the hall. She watched the scene unfold, her face unreadable. Old enough to understand manipulation when she saw it — and wise enough to know that revealing it now would only burn more bridges.
This was a game. And Evan was good at games.
Everyone stood in the dark, waiting on a verdict that had already positioned itself like a guillotine above their heads.
Rowan inhaled deeply, eyes fixed on Evan.
Then slowly—his gaze drifted sideways.
To Caleb.
Caleb straightened, heart hammering against his ribs.
"Caleb," Rowan said.
Caleb didn't answer at first. He knew that tone. He recognized the weight in his father's voice.
Rowan continued, voice barely above a whisper.
"You'll marry the Alpha instead."
The room seemed to tilt.
Caleb blinked. "What?"
Rowan rubbed his face, looking hollow. Broken. Yet resolved.
"You're a Beta," Rowan said. "Stronger constitution. More adaptable. You know how to navigate power. You know how to…" he hesitated—"endure."
Evan gasped quietly, as if the shift stunned even him. His tears dried instantly.
He had won.
His eyes flicked to Caleb. For a moment, something unreadable crossed his face. Relief, maybe. Or shame. Maybe both.
"No," Caleb whispered.
He wanted to step back. Wanted to flee. But his feet were rooted to the ground. The room felt small. Too small.
"You'll be better suited," Lyra said tenderly, as if the words didn't slice him. "Lucian won't be able to crush you so easily. You won't break like Evan."
Caleb's ears buzzed. He could hear his own heartbeat pulsing, could feel Evan's eyes on him like a brand.
Better suited.
Not loved.
Not wanted.
Just… necessary.
Sacrifice.
"Please, Caleb," Rowan said, eyes pleading. "This engagement is the only thing keeping our family from being annihilated. The Thorne family will come for us if we back out."
"They already are," Caleb muttered.
Aunt Mira finally spoke up.
"You'll survive," she said, voice steady. "You've always been the one who survives."
Caleb closed his eyes.
Always the support. Never the chosen.
His voice came out strained. "And if I say no?"
Rowan didn't answer.
No one did.
Because they didn't need to.
Caleb inhaled, forced his spine straight.
"I see."
He turned toward the hallway.
Evan's voice floated softly behind him.
"I'm sorry, Caleb."
Caleb didn't turn back.
He walked away.
But his voice—quiet, controlled—carried back into the room.
"No," he said. "You're not."