"Bonds are not chains of surrender—they are battlegrounds where instinct, fate, and will collide. To resist is to suffer; to yield is to risk everything."
.
Elias's POV
As he grappled with his new identity, he encountered Ronan Vale, a man whose presence stirred something deep within him. Their connection was instant, undeniable. It was as if their souls recognized each other, a bond forged in another life.
Ronan was an Alpha, strong and commanding, yet there was a gentleness to him that Elias found comforting. Together, they navigated the complexities of their relationship, learning to trust and rely on each other.
But their bond was not without challenges. Forces from their past lives sought to tear them apart, testing their love and commitment.
He stood at the center of a converging storm of Alpha presences, sensing three distinct threads of power, unaware which one has made the first move. The Omega Ascension System pulses violently in response, awakening abilities and instincts he has yet to comprehend.
The words rang in his ears, low and commanding:
"Elias Han. You cannot hide. You belong to us."
The voice vibrated not only in the air but in his bones. Elias staggered a half-step back, his palm pressing against his chest as though to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. The Omega Ascension System pulsed violently at his forehead, symbols flashing faster than his eyes could process, as if recording every detail of this encounter.
The threads—their threads—tightened.
Ronan's presence pressed down like wildfire, sharp, consuming, demanding. Elias could sense the hunger beneath his restraint, the possessive instinct of an Alpha who had once claimed him and refused to let go. Yet there was conflict in Ronan's fire, hesitation tempered with pride.
Lucien's aura curled in like smoke, measured and strategic. Unlike Ronan, his presence didn't demand submission—it calculated it, coiled around Elias like a predator assessing the perfect moment to strike. It was not less dangerous, but more insidious. Elias shivered as he felt the chill precision of Lucien Hale, a man who had once bound him in destiny's chain yet remained a mystery in this life.
And the third…
The Warlord Alpha's presence was different. Wilder. Untamed. His dominance pressed against Elias like a storm tide threatening to break a dam. It was not the controlled pull of Ronan or the patient lure of Lucien. No—this was raw nature, primal force. A hunger not born of strategy or pride but of survival itself.
The Omega Ascension System reacted violently to this presence, nearly throwing Elias to his knees. His forehead burned as though Luna's gift had branded itself into his skin. He gasped, clutching the sheets of the hospital bed for balance.
He had wanted answers. He had wanted clarity. But what he had received was a collision of power, instinct, and fate that threatened to unravel him.
Ronan's POV
Ronan Vale stood still, his body taut with restraint as he watched Elias falter beneath the combined weight of three Alphas. The fire inside him roared, instinct demanding that he step forward, shield Elias, claim him here and now.
But he held himself back. Barely.
He could see the faint shimmer of light at Elias's forehead—the Omega Ascension System, Luna's infamous mark. He had never believed in the old tales, had scoffed when priests and seers whispered about chosen Omegas and divine systems. Yet here Elias stood, living proof of prophecy.
Ronan's instincts howled. Mine. He is mine.
But he was not alone in this. Lucien's calculating silence gnawed at him, and the oppressive shadow of the Warlord Alpha twisted his pride into knots. His jaw tightened. If the others saw weakness in him now, they would strike—not with blades, but with bonds, with instincts.
The Omega bond was not a game. It was a war. And Ronan Vale had never lost a war.
.
But gods, this one was different. This was not a skirmish, not a battlefield where steel and blood determined who lived and who died. This was raw, primal, ancient. This was a war of scent, dominance, and heart.
Every breath Elias took seeped into Ronan's chest like smoke, filling him until his lungs ached. His wolf snarled at the thought of sharing, tail lashing invisibly beneath his skin, demanding he tear out the throats of anyone who dared hover near Elias.
And yet—he did not move. Not yet.
Because Ronan knew the truth that burned colder than ice beneath his ribs: if he lunged now, he might win Elias, but he would lose everything else. The Council. His standing. His command over the packs. His claim would look like desperation, not destiny.
He could not afford that. Not here. Not now.
Still, his eyes never left Elias. The Omega trembled under the heat of three Alphas pressing down on him, and Ronan wanted to curse the gods for the unfairness of it. Elias had only just woken from death's grasp, scarred by poison and marked by Luna's hand. And yet already, the world demanded he bear the weight of legends.
"Breathe," Ronan whispered under his breath, the words never meant to reach Elias, but escaping all the same.
.
The Warlord's presence pressed harder, thick as storm clouds. The man radiated raw, unchecked dominance, the kind that demanded kneeling. His aura was fire and blood and endless hunger. It scraped along Ronan's nerves like iron claws.
Lucien, on the other hand, was quiet—too quiet. His eyes, always sharp, cut sideways at Ronan like a blade in the dark. He was holding back, observing, calculating. And that unnerved Ronan more than the Warlord's brute force. Because Lucien didn't need to bare his teeth. He knew exactly when to strike, and his patience was a weapon Ronan could not ignore.
Three Alphas. One Omega. The balance was fragile, a scale tilted on the knife's edge.
Ronan clenched his fists behind his back, nails biting into his palms. If blood was drawn, it would not be from battle—it would be from his own restraint.
He remembered the way Elias had looked when his eyes had fluttered open in the hospital bed, dazed and broken yet alive. The memory struck him like a blow. Ronan had thought he had lost him—thought that poison had stolen Elias forever. And in that moment of loss, something inside him had cracked, something he could not mend.
And now, Elias stood here. Alive. Breathing. Glowing with Luna's gift.
Mine, his wolf repeated, merciless. He was meant for us. No one else.
Ronan swallowed hard. If he yielded here, if he allowed Lucien or the Warlord to take even a step closer to Elias, would he ever forgive himself? Or would he wake every night with blood in his mouth and regret rotting his soul?
The answer was already clear. His body knew it. His instincts knew it. His heart knew it.
The only question was: when would he move?
Not yet. Not until the moment was right.
For all his boiling rage and roaring instinct, Ronan Vale was still a strategist. And in this war of bonds, patience could be deadlier than claws.
So he waited, silent, a predator biding his time. His gaze locked on Elias, unflinching, unyielding, every ounce of his will pouring into that single vow.
When the time came, he would not hesitate. He would claim what was his. Even if it meant tearing the world apart.
Lucien's POV
Lucien Hale observed from the edge of the hospital room's shadows, his sharp gaze missing nothing. Where Ronan's aura burned like a torch, Lucien's remained cool and calculating.
Elias Han. The Omega Ascension System. The Moon Goddess's direct touch.
So this is the boy who defied death itself.
He watched as Elias's body trembled, watched the faint shimmer of sweat slide down his temple, watched the way his instincts pushed back rather than collapsed. That, more than anything, intrigued Lucien.
Most Omegas would have broken by now, crushed beneath three Alpha presences. But not Elias.
Lucien's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. He doesn't even realize it yet. He thinks he is prey. But he is far more dangerous than prey.
The strategist in him whispered possibilities: alliances, manipulations, subtle nudges that could bend fate in his favor. But a different voice, buried deep within—the voice of instinct—growled one undeniable truth.
I want him too.
.
Desire was a dangerous thing for Lucien. He had spent a lifetime smothering it, hiding it beneath discipline, politics, and a mask of measured silence. He had no use for reckless impulses; they got men killed and kingdoms burned.
And yet, as he studied Elias, he felt the steady erosion of that control.
It wasn't just the Omega's beauty—though it was undeniable, with eyes like fractured starlight and a presence that demanded notice even in weakness. It wasn't even the divine mark glowing faintly at his forehead.
It was the resistance.
Elias was trembling, yes, but he wasn't kneeling. His instincts hadn't shattered. His spine hadn't bent. Even poisoned, even newly reborn, he stood against three Alpha auras pressing down on him like crushing tides. That kind of strength could not be taught. It was born.
Lucien's fingers flexed behind his back. He could almost taste it—the potential. If guided correctly, Elias could be molded into more than a mate. He could be a weapon.
And Lucien had always known how to wield weapons.
.
His gaze flicked toward Ronan, who stood at the opposite side of the room, radiating raw possession and fire. Typical of him. Ronan was a warrior through and through, every thought sharpened into instinct and battle. His hunger for Elias was not subtle; it burned in his eyes, in the coil of his fists, in the way his shoulders angled forward as though he might leap at any moment.
Predictable. Dangerous, yes—but predictable.
Then there was the Warlord. That man's dominance rolled through the room like thunder, heavy and suffocating. Unlike Ronan, the Warlord didn't need to move or speak; his very presence threatened to smother all others. He was arrogance and hunger given form, and he wanted Elias not out of awe or intrigue, but because he took what he pleased.
Lucien despised that kind of Alpha most of all.
.
His attention returned to Elias, and for the first time in years, a pang of something unfamiliar twisted in Lucien's chest. Not lust, not ambition, not even strategy. Something softer, quieter—dangerous in a different way.
I could protect him, a whisper rose in his thoughts, alien and unwelcome. Not just use him. Protect him.
He exhaled slowly, carefully banishing the thought. Protection was for fools. Attachment was for the weak.
And yet…
The pull was undeniable.
Lucien's wolf stirred inside him, usually so silent, so carefully leashed. It growled low, possessive, the sound rumbling through his bones. He rarely indulged its voice, rarely allowed instinct to sway him. But this time, his beast agreed with his mind.
He belongs with us.
Lucien's smile deepened, faint and sharp-edged. It wasn't a smile of joy, nor of warmth—it was the cold, inevitable smile of a predator who had decided on his next hunt.
Ronan might burn. The Warlord might crush. But Lucien… Lucien would weave his way into Elias's heart and soul like a shadow, until no one else could uproot him.
.
The tension in the room thickened, every Alpha waiting, watching, calculating their next move. Elias's breaths came faster, the shimmer at his forehead brightening as Luna's gift pulsed faintly, warning all three of them that this Omega was not ordinary.
Lucien tilted his head, his eyes glinting in the half-light.
He will choose, he thought. But choice can be shaped. And when the time comes, Elias Han will see not just my claim… but my inevitability.
His gaze locked on Elias, steady, unblinking, the promise unspoken but heavy in the air:
You will be mine.
.
The room became a battlefield of invisible forces.
The Omega Ascension System flared in Elias's mind, numbers and symbols cascading like rivers of fire and light. His vitals surged—heart rate elevated, pheromone regulation tested, stamina output strained yet holding.
Three Alpha threads stretched toward him, unseen by mortal eyes but undeniable to instinct. Ronan's thread—blazing, unyielding, prideful. Lucien's—precise, cold, snake-like in its patience. The Warlord's—chaotic, violent, a storm tearing at the edges of control.
And Elias stood at the center, trembling but unbroken.
The System pulsed. [Bond Initiation: Stage One] blinked faintly at the edge of his awareness. He did not yet know what it meant, but the sensation rippled through him, undeniable and binding.
The first stage of the bond had begun.
Elias's POV
"Stop…" His voice cracked as the pressure mounted. "Please… I—"
The System pulsed in warning. If he surrendered, even once, the choice would be made for him. His body knew it. His instincts knew it. But he had been given a second chance for a reason, and he would not let fate dictate his every step again.
The gift Luna had left him burned at his forehead, a reminder of her words: "You will not be caged. Not again. Your bond will be yours to command."
Elias inhaled sharply, his Omega instincts trembling between collapse and resistance. He raised his head, forcing his gaze upward despite the invisible weight pressing him down.
"No," he whispered. "Not yet. Not like this."
And then he pushed back.
It wasn't dominance—he could never match an Alpha's raw force—but it was awareness, control, and Luna's blessing threading through his very blood. The Omega Ascension System pulsed outward in a wave, brushing against the three Alphas with a force none of them had anticipated.
Ronan's eyes widened, Lucien's smirk faltered, and even the unseen Warlord stilled in surprise.
For the first time, Elias Han was not prey.
He was choice.
.
The silence stretched, heavy and taut.
Then, the unseen Alpha moved again—closer, deliberate, unrestrained. The air thickened with dominance so intense that the walls of the hospital room seemed to creak in protest.
Elias stumbled, the Omega Ascension System screaming warnings across his vision. His throat went dry as the shadow finally stepped into faint light.