I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Cherion slumped into a velvet chair that felt far too expensive for someone currently contemplating his own mortality, and his sudden, inexplicable career change into magical medicine. He was in the Alpha’s study now, spine straight, hands folded in his lap like a well-behaved portrait subject, while the man in question occupied the chair opposite him

Praise the heavens, the man was finally fully clothed in a dark tunic that hugged his shoulders in a way that was frankly distracting. It was much easier to negotiate when one wasn’t trying to maintain eye contact with a man’s well-defined abs.

Zarius leaned forward, gaze fixed on him with the sort of attention that made people confess to crimes they hadn’t committed yet. ”You’re remarkably self-assured for someone who, just ten minutes ago, looked like he’d stumbled onto his first power by accident. You expect me to trust my life to a man who was surprised his own finger didn’t fall off?”

Cherion flashed a smile. ”Confidence is half the battle, don’t you think?” he countered, though his heart was doing a frantic little tap-dance against his ribs.

Inside, he was thinking, Because as far as I know, I’m the only one with this cheat code in the entire world, buddy. According to that half-forgotten author’s note that had sparked so much outrage and then been buried under louder plotlines and flashier deaths, of course.

”Look,” Cherion continued, leaning back and trying to look more relaxed than he felt. ”Think of it like swordplay. You weren’t born swinging a blade with that much precision, right? You practiced. You bled. You spent years perfecting the form. I’m the same. My power is... well, it’s raw. It needs a bit of ’on-the-job’ training. And I also need to figure out the specific flavor of this curse you’re carrying.”

Zarius didn’t look amused. If anything, he looked like he was weighing the pros and cons of tossing Cherion out a window. He stood up abruptly, his boots thudding softly on the rug as he paced toward the tall, narrow window overlooking the moonlit courtyard.

”So,” Zarius’s voice was low. ”I am to be a training dummy? I have to wait a ’long time’ for you to eventually figure out how to wield your own hands?”

”Give me a month,” Cherion blurted out.

Zarius let out a short, dry chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes. ”A month? I’ll be honest, I expected you to beg for a year. Or perhaps a decade.”

”Oh, please,” Cherion scoffed, waving a hand. ”I’m not that patient. I’d rather this whole curse business end sooner rather than later.”

Zarius turned back from the window. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, and Cherion couldn’t help but notice how much better he looked at night. The ghastly, bone-deep pallor he’d sported back at the palace was gone. He looked healthy. He looked dangerous. He looked... well, like a Male Lead.

The Duke crossed the room in three long strides, stopping right in front of Cherion’s chair. He leaned down, bracing one hand on the armrest, effectively caging Cherion in. The scent of himhit Cherion like a physical weight.

”Fine,” Zarius whispered, his face inches from Cherion’s. ”One month. But understand this, If you’re lying to me, or if this is some elaborate scheme by the Emperor or the Crown Prince to keep me occupied while he moves his pieces on the board, you’ll regret ever making this proposal. I don’t take kindly to being toyed with, little Omega.”

Cherion looked at his face carefully. Up close, Zarius was an absolute menace to the concept of being ”just a friend.” His skin was warm, his breathing steady. No coughing or shivering.

He’s actually quite handsome when he isn’t trying to murder me, Cherion thought, a bit dazed.

He reached up, placing a hand on Zarius’s chest, just a gentle push, to create some much-needed breathing room. ”Threats, threats. You really should work on your bedside manner if you want people to help you. Now, if we’re done with the menacing aura for the night...”

Cherion stood up, his legs feeling a bit like jelly. He smoothed down his rumpled clothes, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. ”I’m going to bid you a very goodnight, Alpha Zarius.”

He actually let out a yawn, not even bothering to hide it. His brain felt like it was fried, and all he wanted was to curl up under those incredibly soft silk sheets in his room and sleep for about twelve hours.

He turned and started walking toward the heavy door.

”Where do you think you’re going?”

The voice was like a whip-crack in the silent study.

Cherion immediately clamped his mouth shut, his yawn cut short. He paused with his hand on the brass door handle and slowly turned around.

He forced a bright, entirely fake smile. ”What, this? Oh, I was just going to do some... midnight gardening? Or maybe I’ll go count the dust bunnies in the cellar?” He rolled his eyes at his own nonsense. ”What do you think I’m doing? It’s past midnight, I’ve had a traumatic evening, and I’m going back to my room to sleep until I forget what a dead body looks like.”

Zarius didn’t move from his spot by the chair. He just watched Cherion with a look that was suddenly, terrifyingly possessive.

”Your room?” Zarius asked, his voice dropping into a register that sent a shiver straight down Cherion’s spine, and not the bad kind of shiver, which was even more annoying.

”Yes,” Cherion said slowly, his grip tightening on the door handle.

Zarius shook his head slightly, a small, dark smirk playing on his lips. It was the look of a predator who had just realized his prey had nowhere left to run.

”I don’t think so,” Zarius said.

Cherion felt a cold bead of sweat roll down his neck. ”Wait. You aren’t serious. You can’t be.”

Zarius walked toward him slowly. He didn’t stop until he was standing right in the doorway, blocking Cherion’s path to freedom.

”I’m very serious,” Zarius murmured, leaning down so his lips were right next to Cherion’s ear. ”You will sleep here with me tonight.”