Three Alpha Princes for an Unwanted Omega

Alistair sat cross-legged on the cold floor of his prison cell with his eyes closed and his hands resting loosely on his knees.

He focused on his breathing because there was nothing else left for him to focus on.

He was going to die and he had accepted that.

It was almost funny.

He had never imagined his life ending like this.

His own brother was going to have him beheaded... his twin and blood.

The irony was not lost on him.

Their entire lives had been about surviving. They had watched their family die and crawled their way to the top.

They had built Emberfall together and now Lucius was going to end his life.

Alistair opened his eyes for a brief second. The stone wall stared back at him, mocking his choices.

He closed them again.

He could still ask for Lucius’s forgiveness. He could tell his brother that he had made a mistake and promise never to do it again.

He could beg and ask to be exiled from Emberfall instead. He could throw away his pride and fall to his knees before Lucius but he would not.

His jaw tightened.

No.

He would not give Lucius that satisfaction of begging for his life because he knew his brother and he knew he would not go back on his word.

If he was going to die then he would die with dignity and if he could manage it, he would smile when the blade came down.

He would make sure Lucius knew he had not broken him.

He wondered what death would feel like.

His mind briefly conjured the image of his mother. The feel of her hands and her voice when she cared for them as children.

Alistair’s breathing faltered as the memory changed to that of carnage and death. His mother’s unseeing eyes staring at them.

His jumbled thought were interrupted by the sound of voices.

Alistair inclined his head to the side and frowned in confusion.

He could hear shouting from right outside his prison cell.

Was it time? He thought.

He had no window so it could be morning for all he knew and they could be here to take him to the gallows.

His heart began pounding as he looked toward the cell door.

The shouting continued for a while before it suddenly stopped.

Alistair stilled.

The silence was so deafening and a direct contrast from moments earlier.

His brows drew together as he listened harder.

There was nothing. Not even the sound of footsteps or movement of the guards... it was dead silence.

Strange, he thought.

Just then the door of the cell creaked open.

Alistair’s eyes widened in alarm as it slowly opened.

He waited, staring at the doorway for someone to walk in but no one did.

Seconds passed with Alistair stilled frozen on the spot with no one walking into the cell.

What is happening? He thought as he rose to his feet and slowly approached the doorway.

His breath caught as he stepped outside to see the guards who were supposed to be watching him all lying on the floor.

”What the fuck?” Alistair breathed.

He stepped closer to one guard was sprawled on his back, his heart hammering.

Were they dead?

He crouched beside the guard, staring hard at the man’s chest.

It was still moving slowly, meaning he was alive.

Alistair glanced around him to the rest of the men sprawled on the ground. They were all alive but asleep.

He could not believe his eyes.

Alistair slowly rose to his feet, careful not to nudge any of them awake.

His instincts screamed at him that it could be a trap. Lucius’ way of testing him... perhaps he wanted to see whether Alistair would prove himself to be the coward he had accused him of being.

Alistair swallowed, looking toward the end of the corridor then back at the guards.

What was he supposed to do?

Stay and die... or run?

If this was a test, then so be it. He would not stand here waiting for Lucius to come and collect him.

Alistair stepped over one of the guards.

His foot caught something and he stumbled, kicking the guard in the leg.

He froze in alarm but the guard did not move.

Alistair slowly exhaled.

”Fuck it.” He cursed then he turned and ran without looking back

He moved through the dungeon as quickly as his legs would carry him. Every few steps, he expected someone to appear but nothing happened.

He reached the stairs and climbed them, his heart pounded in his ears. When he reached the upper entrance, two guards stood there.

Alistair slowed, his body tensing up.

They were facing away from him and did not turn as he approached.

Alistair slowly walked past them and neither guard moved.

He turned around to see the guards were staring straight ahead, their eyes open wide but with no awareness or reaction in them.

They were in some kind of trance and standing so still that they could have been statues.

Alistair stared.

Someone had done this. Someone had deliberately put every guard in his path into some kind of magical sleep.

Someone wanted him alive and out of this place.

Alistair did not wait to question it... he simply ran.

He moved through a narrow corridor and toward the secret passage. The same one Ares and Ayla should have escaped from.

His mind raced as he reached the end of the corridor and took the bend. He saw the opening covered by the Ivies and immediately ran toward it.

Fresh air hit his face as he stumbled outside.

Alistair stood there for several seconds, catching his breath.

The palace was behind him.

He had been certain he was going to die yet here he was, free.

He had to keep moving and put enough distance between himself and Lucius.

...

Amara wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her wrist and looked at it in the candlelight.

She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands loose in her lap and waited for the room to stop tilting. The power had gone out of her like water out of a cracked jug, and there was nothing left now but the ache behind her eyes and the taste of copper at the back of her throat.

It would not be long.

The guards would discover that Alistair was gone and Lucius would summon her.

He was a smart man and he would eventually put together her part in Alistair’s escape.

Amara rose and went to the basin and rinsed her hands.

Let him come.

It did not matter now.

The wheels were already turning.

Soon enough, Lucius Veyr would be dead.