🩸 PROLOGUE — His Marked Omega (English Translation)
> The blood was still fresh when he turned around.
His eyes were dry. Mine were bleeding.
"You killed him…"
My voice came out in pieces — shattered, strangled.
He simply raised his hand, still stained red.
"He touched what was mine."
My heart stopped.
My brother... My fucking brother. He had only tried to protect me.
He wasn't a threat. He wasn't a target.
But to him, anyone in the way was disposable.
"You were supposed to protect me…"
"I marked you. I didn't adopt you."
One sentence. One bullet to the chest.
I felt the bond twisting inside me, screaming.
That bond he forced on me. Branded into my skin.
That I never asked for.
Now, I had nothing.
Nothing but a cold body on the floor.
And a monster inside my chest.
"I hate you," I spat.
He smiled.
"Hate me all you want. You still belong to me."
---
🌒 CHAPTER 1 — Broken, But His (English Translation)
> The blood wouldn't come off.
I kept scrubbing, clawing, crying against the cold porcelain…
But it stayed. Under my nails. In my throat. In my head.
"Tsk… Look at the mess you've become."
His voice. Calm. Sharp.
He stood leaning against the bathroom door, arms crossed, watching like I was a tantrum.
Like he hadn't shattered my world three hours ago.
I didn't answer. Not yet. If I spoke, I'd scream.
"He used to beat you, didn't he?"
"He protected me."
"He stole what was mine."
He stepped closer. Slow. With that alpha walk — the kind that dares you to say no.
I wanted to. I wanted to scream it until my lungs gave out.
"You never even asked me…"
He leaned in. His breath skimmed my temple.
"Omegas don't get a choice, sweetheart."
My hand flew.
The slap echoed so loud my palm stung.
He didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
Then he smiled. Slow. Sinister.
"Hit me all you want. You're still marked. Still mine. Until I say otherwise."
I stepped back. He stepped forward.
The monster I once loved in silence.
The nightmare who now wore my name like a leash.
"Are you going to kill me too?"
He tilted his head.
"No."
(A pause.)
"You? I'll break you slow. And you'll beg for more."
---
🌑 CHAPTER 2 — The Executioner's Palace (English Translation)
> He dragged me away without letting me bury my brother.
"You'll come back when you're worthy of facing him," he'd said, voice flat.
Translation: when you've learned to obey.
The car ride was silent. The driver didn't dare meet my eyes in the mirror.
Even he could feel the carnage in the air.
When we stopped, I thought I was hallucinating.
A villa? No. A fortress.
Marble. Columns. Doors that reached the sky.
And me — barefoot, bloodstained, hollow.
"This is mine now?" I muttered.
"Ours," he corrected.
His hand landed on my neck. I flinched. Not because of the bond. Because of the rage.
And something else I refused to name.
He pushed me inside.
"Here, you obey. You heal. You belong to me."
"And if I refuse?"
He stopped. Turned around slowly.
"You don't have that luxury."
Then he called for someone. A woman in heels and a tight bun.
"Take him to his room. Clean him. Prepare him. And don't lock the door."
My heart shrank. Clean him. Prepare him.
This wasn't shelter. It was a cage.
Silk-lined, maybe — but a cage all the same.
And me?
I had two choices: run. Or become crueler than him.