"Power is never given freely—it is taken, bartered, or stolen in silence."
War Room Setting
The chamber was a cavern of shadows, carved from volcanic obsidian that drank the torchlight instead of reflecting it. The long table, jagged at its edges like broken stone teeth, stretched from one wall to the other. Seats were placed according to noble rank and bloodline, each etched with sigils of their house.
Only Alphas and Betas were permitted entry. Omegas were spoken of, but never allowed to sit.
Elias stood beyond the sealed doors, barred by custom and decree. Yet the mark on his forehead pulsed faintly, and through the Omega Ascension System, whispers bled through. He would not see the council, but he would hear—and in the half-seen fragments, perhaps understand more than the Alphas ever meant him to.
Roll Call
Ronan Vale — First-born son of House Vale, his presence fire contained in human form, Son of Lord Adrian Vale, Ronan's Mother died of sickle cell disease, Alpha Prince of Lycan Dominion.
Lucien Hale — Beta strategist, sharp as obsidian edges, eyes never still, Loyal to Ronan Vale as his Beta 2nd in command.
Adrian Vale — Patriarch of House Vale, scarred from wars past, his voice a hammer, Father to Ronan Vale, and a Widower after his wife passed away, Alpha King of Lyxan Dominion.
Silas Crowe — Lord of the eastern watch, cold-eyed and merciless.
Damian Creed — Alpha of the border guard, iron discipline laced with suspicion.
Orion Veyne — Scholar-warrior, his words always measured.
Selene Moon — Witch-born Alpha, draped in silver veils, her presence quiet and unsettling.
Eira Valen — Young Alpha heiress, still a representative, but her ambition blazed hotter than many full-seated lords.
Father Gabriel — The High Advisor, a priest cloaked in moonlit robes, voice heavy with faith.
Kael Duskbane — Not present in flesh, but his shadow presence lingered; his forces had already claimed three villages along the border.
The obsidian doors sealed with a grinding finality.
Lucien's POV
Lucien Hale leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. Where others radiated brute force, he cloaked himself in patience. He let the arguments rise and clash around him like storm waves against cliffs, waiting for the cracks to show.
"Kael Duskbane moves swiftly," Damian Creed barked. "If we do not declare sides, he will carve a path through our defenses before the season ends."
"And if we do declare sides," Orion countered smoothly, "we risk throwing ourselves into a war we cannot afford. The Dark Lands are already emboldened."
Lucien's lips twitched faintly, though he said nothing yet.
Adrian Vale's voice thundered across the table: "We will not bend knee to Kael. Better to bleed now than choke later."
The council erupted, voices overlapping. Threats. Strategies. Accusations.
Lucien finally spoke, his voice soft but cutting through the noise like a blade."Neutrality buys us time. Declaring loyalty too soon would fracture what little unity remains. Kael wants us to scramble—let us not indulge him."
The room stilled slightly, eyes turning toward him. He continued, calm, deliberate: "The war between Arcanum Sanctum and the Dark Lands is inevitable. But if we rush to align, we reveal our hand too early. Better to watch, wait, and gather strength while our enemies waste theirs."
It was chess, as always. Every piece moved deliberately.
What he did not say—not yet—was the thought lingering like a shadow in the back of his mind: Keep Elias hidden. Keep the System from their lips. If the council knew the Omega bore Luna's mark, Elias would not remain free for long.
Ronan's POV
Ronan Vale sat tense beside his father, muscles taut with restraint. The war council's words tasted like ash.
Neutrality. Politics. Calculations.
And through it all, the same refrain surfaced, again and again: Omegas were tools, bargaining chips, breeders, nothing more.
"An Omega's bond could anchor alliances," Silas Crowe muttered coldly. "If the boy from Han's line still breathes, his use should not be wasted."
The growl tore from Ronan's throat before he could stop it. The table went still for a breath, every eye cutting toward him.
"My Omega," he spat, voice rough. "Speak of him as a tool again, and I'll—"
"Enough." Adrian Vale's voice was steel, a hand clamping his son's shoulder. Ronan's jaw flexed, his claws half-shifted under the table.
Eira Valen's mocking laugh cut the tension. "Your Omega? You sound like a pup in rut. Tell me, Ronan Vale, is this boy truly worthy of such ferocity—or have you been blinded by instinct?"
Ronan's chest heaved. His restraint frayed. For one terrible second, he nearly lunged across the table, pride and fury demanding blood.
Then he felt it—a faint pull at his chest, Elias's presence brushing against him from beyond the sealed doors. Not a word, not a command. Just… a reminder.
He forced himself back, eyes burning. But the promise in his voice was low and vicious. "Mock him again, and you'll find out exactly how blind I am."
Eira only smirked, but the room had gone colder.
Eira's POV
The council droned on, but Eira Valen's thoughts swirled sharper than any speech.
Her lips curved faintly as she tilted her head, letting her silver hair slide like a curtain to mask her expression. She had tested Ronan's temper—and found it raw, unstable, ripe for exploitation.
The whispers of power threaded through her mind already. If Elias Han was what they suspected—marked, bonded, dangerous—then he was either a weapon to wield or a weakness to exploit.
Her mind was already arranging pieces on her own hidden board. A letter to the hunters beyond the vale. A pouch of coin to silence tongues. A blade in the dark, slipped between ribs before anyone realized the truth.
It would be easy to lay the blame on rogue hunters. Easy to spark chaos between houses while she positioned herself above suspicion.
She smiled faintly, eyes glinting with ambition. Let the others argue about war and borders. She would win in the shadows.
.
The Omega Ascension System flickered before Elias's eyes as he pressed his hand to the cold obsidian doors. The voices were fractured, the words carried on the pulse of Luna's mark.
[The System whispered in cold fragments, each syllable burning against his mind:
"Paths diverge in shadows. Danger approaches unseen. Be careful Elias"]
Elias's chest tightened. He could not see inside, but the System had already shown him what the council did not: betrayal was not a matter of if. It was already moving.
The choices before him were no longer just about bonds.They were about survival.