"Fate doesn't simply bind—it asks who dares to grasp the threads and weave them."
.
Elias's POV
The words pulsed across the darkness of his mind, bright and damning.
[System: Awaiting Selection… from Host]
Elias's breath came short and uneven as the Omega Ascension System surrounded him in shimmering silver code and spectral light. He was not in the castle bedchamber anymore; he was in a place between thought and reality, where the weight of destiny pressed down on him like chains.
Three glowing bars floated before him, humming with quiet power. Each was etched with faint lines that branched outward like veins, like futures yet unwritten.
The first bar pulsed a deep crimson, steady and fierce. When Elias brushed the edge with trembling fingers, a flood of visions assaulted him: Ronan standing bloodied on a battlefield, his claws slick with enemy gore, rage threatening to consume him—until Elias's hand on his chest pulled him back from madness. He saw Ronan kneeling, snarling at anyone who dared approach, yet softening only when Elias was near. Strength. Loyalty. Wild, unbroken instinct.
The second bar shimmered a cold, metallic blue. Lucien's eyes flashed before him, always calculating, always two steps ahead. Elias saw visions of being pulled into war councils where Lucien's voice swayed entire armies, his logic cutting sharper than any blade. He saw himself at Lucien's side, shielded not by brute force, but by intellect, manipulation, and strategy. Power from the shadows. A bond of the mind before the body.
The third bar burned like black fire, dark and foreboding. Kael Duskbane. The Warlord Alpha whose name carried terror even in whispers. Images burst violently across Elias's vision—armies kneeling beneath Kael's banner, kingdoms reduced to ash. Yet among the chaos, another image pierced through: Kael reaching toward him, not as a conqueror, but as if Elias were the one thing even he could not dominate. A bond forged in dangerous fire.
Elias stumbled back, heart hammering. "No… I can't—"
The bars pulsed brighter, as though his indecision were tearing at the threads that held them.
[The System's voice, fractured and cryptic, slithered through the chamber of his mind: "Three threads. One must guide. Choose, or all will fray."]
Cold sweat slicked his brow. He wasn't ready. He didn't even understand what it meant to choose. Was this permanent? Would selecting one erase the others? Would the bonds collapse, stranding him forever in a single destiny?
The pressure mounted. His hand hovered helplessly, drifting between crimson, blue, and black flame. He clenched his jaw, refusing.
Not yet. Not like this.
[The System hissed a warning: "Stability compromised. Delay breeds fracture."]
His pulse spiked. He had to breathe. He had to hold on.
Ronan's POV
Ronan froze mid-stride.
It was faint, but unmistakable—the tug. The bond thread pulling at his chest, tightening like a cord of fire. His instincts flared, claws itching to extend, the beast inside him growling at the sensation. Elias was there, reaching, testing, hesitating.
The urge to claim nearly broke him. His entire body screamed: Step forward. Seize him. End this hesitation before another Alpha can sink their claws in.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
Through the tug, he felt Elias's wavering. Not rejection—consideration. Elias was weighing him, judging him against another. That restraint cut deeper than any blade. The noble son, the warrior Alpha—being measured, compared, doubted.
His pride burned hot. His instincts clawed at him. But then… another feeling cracked through: terror.
Because for the first time, Ronan realized the truth—Elias wasn't prey. He wasn't fragile, waiting to be taken. He was the one holding the chain. The Omega System had given him the reins, and every Alpha instinct Ronan possessed was useless if Elias chose to turn away.
The thought thrilled him. It terrified him. It made him hunger like nothing else.
He whispered into the empty hall, voice low and rough: "Choose me, Elias. I'll never let you fall."
But he knew, in the marrow of his bones—he couldn't force it. Not this.
Lucien's POV
Lucien's gaze lingered on Elias, calculating. Always calculating.
The Omega's posture shifted, his eyes unfocused, lips parting in silent breaths. To most, it would look like exhaustion. To Lucien, it was a sign—Elias was experiencing something no one else could see.
A system user. An Omega with leverage over Alphas.
The thought was both dangerous and intoxicating.
Lucien's mind spun through possibilities. An Omega capable of choosing their bonds, altering the rules of hierarchy that had stood for centuries? Such a creature could destabilize the Dominion from within. Could topple Kael's armies without lifting a sword. Could bend the Vale line to his will if he so wished.
The jealousy was quiet but sharp. Ronan would leap without thought, seize Elias in his feral way. Kael would demand Elias as spoils of conquest.
Lucien, however, would wait. He would observe. He would learn every flicker of hesitation, every breath, every weakness Elias revealed. And when the time came, he would strike—not with claws, but with inevitability.
Still… his chest tightened with something unwelcome. A rare emotion that made his composure tremble. If Ronan bonded first, if Kael claimed him, Elias might slip from his reach entirely.
Lucien steeled his spine, forcing his features into their usual calm mask. He would not lunge like a beast. But he would not sit idly by, either.
.
[The System's fragmented voice filled the void, a whisper and a command all at once:
Three threads. One must guide. Choose, or all will fray.]
Moonlight spilled across Elias's trembling figure, as though the Moon Goddess herself leaned close, awaiting his choice.
Elias's POV
His heart raced. His hand twitched, fingers stretching toward the crimson bar, then jerking back. He almost reached for the blue glow, only to recoil again. His chest heaved, panic clawing at his ribs.
And then—black fire roared to life.
The third bar, Kael Duskbane's, ignited with brutal force, burning brighter than before. The visions were undeniable now: the Warlord Alpha, his eyes like storm-forged steel, hand outstretched not in conquest but in claim.
Elias staggered back, choking on the sight. His whisper cracked the silence.
"…Kael."
The System pulsed, final and absolute:
"The 3rd mate awakens."
