The first light of dawn crept through the heavy velvet curtains of the royal suite, illuminating a scene of quiet devastation. Kyon was the first to wake, his body heavy from the residual chemicals and the exhaustion of the night. As he shifted, he felt a hard, rectangular shape pressing against Arion's ribs, hidden beneath the silk of the Consort's discarded tunic.
Kyon reached out with a steady hand and pulled it free. It was his own logbook. The Architect's Blueprint.
He stared at it for a long moment, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. He didn't call the guards; he didn't wake Arion to punish him. Instead, he felt a profound, bone-deep weariness. The game was reaching its end, and the weight of the crown felt heavier than it ever had before. He looked at Arion's sleeping form , the bruised cheek, the messy hair, the exhaustion written in every line of his face and felt a sharp, unfamiliar pang in his chest.
I am a monster, Kyon thought, the realization finally breaking through the high walls of his ego.
The memory of hitting Aiden flashed in his mind like a recurring nightmare. The sound of the slap, the terror in the boy's eyes... it was the exact same look he had given his own father twenty years ago. He had spent his entire life trying to outrun his father's cruelty, only to become the very thing he loathed.
He rose silently, pulling on a simple robe, and walked toward the nursery. He hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the handle. He was a King who could command armies, yet he was terrified of a four-year-old child.
He slipped inside. The room was dim, smelling of lavender and the soft, sweet scent of a pup. Aiden was awake, sitting up in his small bed, playing quietly with a wooden soldier. When the boy saw Kyon, his entire body jolted. He scrambled to the corner of the bed, his eyes wide with a panic that gutted Kyon more than any blade ever could.
"I didn't come to hurt you," Kyon said, his voice unusually soft, devoid of its usual commanding edge.
Aiden didn't move. He looked like a trapped animal.
"I... I am sorry," Kyon whispered, the words feeling clumsy and heavy. He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "I was a monster yesterday. I was angry at the world, and I took it out on you. I don't want to be like my father, Aiden. I don't want to be like the people who hurt me."
Aiden tilted his head, his small brow furrowing. He didn't understand the politics or the chemistry, but he understood the sadness in Kyon's voice.
"I just wanted someone to love me," Kyon confessed, his gaze falling to his hands. "I thought if I was strong enough, I wouldn't need it. But I was wrong."
Aiden watched him for a long minute. Slowly, he crawled across the blankets. He didn't see the Serpent King; he saw a man who looked very, very lonely. As kyon walk close and knelt next his crib , He reached out and wrapped his small arms around Kyon's neck.
Kyon froze. A flutter of "butterflies" erupted in his stomach, a physical manifestation of a heart that had been frozen for far too long. He saw his younger self in Aiden, but unlike his younger self, this boy still had the capacity to forgive.
"Papa says everyone needs love," Aiden whispered against his ear. "Even the bad men. He says love is the only thing that makes the shadows go away."
Kyon closed his eyes, leaning into the small child's embrace. The motivation behind his entire reign,the desire to prove his father wrong, to stabilize his bloodline, to be absolute , shattered. His new motivation was far more heartbreaking: he wanted to be worthy of the love he had spent his life trying to steal.
He stayed there for a long time, holding the proof of his own humanity, while in the other room, the logbook lay on the floor, its secrets no longer the most important thing in the palace.
*
*
Arion awoke slowly, every muscle in his body protesting. His head pounded, his cheek throbbed from the backhand, and the deep, pervasive ache from the night's prolonged, brutal sex was a constant reminder of his new reality. He was alone on the enormous bed; Kyon was gone.
Arion dragged himself to the edge of the mattress, his movements stiff. He checked the parlor, the velvet drapery was torn, and the furniture was scattered, a silent testament to the raw aggression of the night. His only focus was the small, fragile weight hidden in the lining of his tunic: the logbook. He found the garment on the floor, quickly retrieving the slim volume. The proof was still safe.
He moved silently to the adjoining nursery. Aiden was awake, sitting up in his crib, clutching a new, ornate wooden tiger toy that Kyon had apparently provided. The boy looked pale, his eyes wide and worried, but he was physically unharmed. The heavy presence of the uniformed guards outside the door confirmed the perpetual surveillance.
"Papa," Aiden whispered, his voice thin. He looked at Arion's bruised face, then toward the closed door of the main suite. "Did the bad man hurt you?"
Arion knelt by the crib, forcing a weary smile. "No, my Black Tiger. Just tired. We are safe here now. But we must be shadows. Very quiet shadows."
"Papa the serpent king seems more like a lonely person, should we help me feel less lonely?"
" Aiden you must know something, until now I don't know the real motivation behind kyon doing and I don't know if his heart is as sincere as he show it ."
Aiden pout and cross his smalls arms together, Aiden truly wanted to help his both parents.
——
The moment Arion returned to the main suite, a tall, impeccably dressed beta servant approached, carrying a tray with breakfast and a fresh, opulent wardrobe.
"Consort Arion," the servant murmured, his tone respectful but devoid of warmth. "Prince Kyon has requested you join him in the morning counsel room. He also requested you wear the violet silks. And this."
The servant presented a small, velvet-lined box. Inside lay a single, heavy gold cuff, intricately carved with the Royal Dragon sigil. It was a subtle, yet unmistakable sign of ownership,a formal collar, disguised as jewelry.
Arion looked at the cuff, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him. It wasn't enough to physically claim him; Kyon had to mark him publicly as well.
When Arion entered the morning counsel room, the atmosphere was completely different from the chaotic energy of the war room. It was formal, cold, and efficient. Kyon sat at the head of a polished onyx table, dressed in crisp, black morning robes, the Jade Heart perfectly centered on his chest. There was no trace of the traumatized, weeping boy from the night before; only the serene, calculating Serpent King remained.
Kyon looked up, his expression utterly neutral. His eyes flickered over Arion's bruised face, the physical evidence of their violent night, and then down to the empty space where the cuff should have been.
"You are late, Consort," Kyon stated, his voice cool and precise. "And you are missing your wedding gift. Put it on immediately." He tease trying to make Arion see that it just a joke.
But Arion remained standing and utterly silent. "You wanted honesty last night was my fault , Your Highness . But I am not an ornament. I am your consort, your advisor, and the mother of your heir. I will not wear a collar."
A cold smile touched Kyon's lips. "Ah, the ghost of honor returns. Very well. We will discuss the accessory later. Sit." Kyon felt awkward and retreated.
Arion sat stiffly, pulling himself together. The table was covered with state papers, not battle plans.
Kyon leaned back, finally allowing his eyes to rest on Arion's face. His voice dropped, regaining that dangerous, possessive edge. "And for your efforts last night, Consort... I will reward you."
Arion braced himself.
"Your mother, Duchess Maeva, and your brother, Lord Torvin, will be permitted to move into the palace grounds," Kyon announced. "They will take residence in the Eastern wing. They will not be confined, but they will be watched. This is my acknowledgment of your value, Consort. You gain your family's proximity; I gain an increased security perimeter."
The concession was enormous, a genuine political olive branch that immediately brought Arion a measure of comfort and familial support. It was also, Arion knew, a tightening of the net, Kyon had just gathered all his enemies into one easily monitored location.
"You will meet with your family this afternoon," Kyon concluded, dismissing the matter. "But first, you will accompany me to the Grand Library. I have need of your scientific insight. I want you to review the original research of the First Queen, Cassian's mother. I want to know if there are any lingering chemical secrets in his bloodline that could destabilize his followers."
Arion instantly understood the true purpose of the assignment. Kyon knew Arion had been close to Cassian. He was testing Arion's loyalty and his willingness to betray the other Alpha in the most intimate way possible,by hunting for Cassian's genetic weaknesses.
Arion looked at the cold, calculating Prince, the memory of his heartbreaking confession already fading into the sharp, new reality. The emotional vulnerability was merely a tool, a necessary weakness Kyon occasionally employed to disarm his opponents. Arion was a pawn in a game of control, but he held the logbook—the one weapon Kyon hadn't accounted for.
*
*
*
Time in the Royal Palace began to flow differently. The initial, jagged edges of their union, marked by blood and sedative-fueled violence, were slowly worn down by the relentless passage of months. The palace, once a battlefield, settled into a deceptive, domestic rhythm.
To the outside world, the Serpent King and his Northern Consort were the pinnacle of power. But inside the private wing, a quiet transformation was taking place. Kyon, true to the "heartbreaking motivation" he had found in the nursery, began to change. He replaced his cold, clinical orders with invitations. He sought Arion's presence not for dominance, but for tea, for genuine counsel on state trade, and sometimes, simply to sit in the same room.
The most shocking shift was with Aiden. The boy, possessing the resilience of the North and the curiosity of the Crown, had forgiven the man who once struck him. Kyon had become a fixture in the nursery, no longer a monster but a father who sat on the floor and taught the boy about the stars.
Arion watched from the doorway, his heart a tangled mess of suspicion and unwanted warmth as he saw his son laughing in the arms of the man he was supposed to dismantle.
One evening, after the palace had fallen into its nightly hush, Kyon entered the parlor. He didn't come with the Jade Heart glowing or a command on his lips. He looked tired,humanly tired.
"Arion," he began, his voice low and steady. "The logbook. I know you still have it. I know you look at it when you think I'm asleep, waiting for the perfect moment to send it to the Eastern Lords."
Arion froze, his hand instinctively twitching toward the drawer where the evidence was hidden.
"I won't take it from you," Kyon said, stepping into the center of the room. He stood defenceless, his hands at his sides. "I've spent my life controlling the narrative, Arion. But I'm tired of the lie. You have every right to destroy me. You have every right to hate me for what I did to you, for the mark, for the night I forced you into that heat."
Kyon took another step, his eyes fixed on Arion's. "I am a man who was raised by monsters, and I became one to survive. But seeing you with Aiden... seeing the way you protect your honor even when it's been dragged through the dirt... it makes me want to be something else."
He stopped directly in front of Arion. "I'm going to give you what you've wanted since the day we met. Justice."
Kyon knelt, but not in the way he had during the duel. This was a true surrender. "Hit me. Yell. Scream. Do whatever you have to do to let that poison out. I won't stop you. I won't fight back. I deserve every ounce of your rage."
Arion stayed still for a moment then he didn't need a second invitation. Years of bottled-up agony, the humiliation of the "Consort" title, the fear for his son, and the memory of his violation erupted. He let out a primal roar and swung.
His fist connected with Kyon's jaw with a sickening crack. Kyon's head snapped back, but he didn't move to defend himself. Arion grabbed him by the robes, shaking him, screaming questions that had no easy answers. He punched him again—in the stomach, across the face,until his own knuckles were bloody and his breath was coming in ragged sobs.
Kyon took it all. He stayed on the floor, bleeding from a split lip, his eye already swelling shut. He didn't use his Alpha scent to dominate; he didn't call the guards. He simply waited until Arion's strength failed and the warrior collapsed onto the couch, shaking with the aftershocks of his rage.
After a long silence, Kyon wiped the blood from his mouth and sat on the floor beside the couch. "Is it out?" he asked quietly.
"No," Arion rasped, his voice broken. "It will never be out. You think a few bruises can pay for what you did?"
"No," Kyon agreed. "But it's a start."
They sat in the dim light, the space between them no longer filled with chemical lies, but with a raw, ugly truth.
"I wanted to kill you, Kyon," Arion admitted, his gaze fixed on his bloody hands. "That was my motivation from the start. To get close, to find the secret, and to watch you fall. I signed that marriage license as a death warrant."
Kyon nodded slowly. "I know. I would have done the same."
"And now?" Kyon asked, his voice hopeful for the first time. "I want to change, Arion. I want to be the Alpha you can actually stand to look at. Give me a chance. Not for the Crown, but for... for us."
Arion looked at the man, the bruised, bleeding, brilliant Serpent King,and felt the weight of the logbook in his mind. He saw Aiden's laughter and Kyon's tears.
"No," Arion said, his voice hard. "I won't give you a chance just because you let me hit you. You've spent years proving how dangerous you are. If you want my trust, if you want me to believe this change is real and not another chemical manipulation... don't say it."
Arion stood up, looking down at the Prince. "Prove it. Spend every day for the rest of your life proving you aren't your father. Until then, you are my King, and you are my son's father. But you are not mine."
Kyon watched him walk away, his heart heavy but his resolve ironclad. He hadn't won forgiveness, but he had won a path.
"I will," Kyon whispered to the empty room. "I'll prove it until there's nothing left of the Serpent but the man you'll love."