I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Cherion shifted closer to Zarius’s side as they started walking down the gallery, his hand naturally finding its place against the broad, solid muscles of the Duke’s upper back. The heat radiating through Zarius’s dusty cloak was a small comfort against the chill creeping through the open window.

In return, Zarius heavy palm dropped onto Cherion’s shoulder, his thick fingers anchoring him close, a silent reassurance that the mountain was still standing despite how pale his face looked.

”You were gone a really long time,” Cherion murmured, keeping his voice down so it wouldn’t bounce off the high ceiling. He didn’t say it with accusation, it was just a quiet statement of how long the afternoon had stretched without him.

Zarius tightened his grip on Cherion’s shoulder, a faint, weary sigh escaping his chest. ”I know. Forgive me.”

Cherion shook his head smoothly, his thumb rubbing a small circle against the fabric of the Duke’s coat. ”Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re back in one piece. I was about two minutes away from having to tackle Flio to keep him from exploring the hallway out of pure boredom.”

They walked slowly, allowing the others to fall a few paces behind. Only Gillian remained at Zarius’s side. Zarius kept his eyes fixed straight ahead on the long line of doors, but he began to speak in a low, gravelly rumble, laying out every single piece of information he had gathered down in the lower levels.

”The dead body they found in the forest, it was a maid,” Zarius said. ”Her name was Wina and it seems Philia knew her.”

Cherion’s eyebrows knit together. ”Philia knew her? Personally?”

”Maybe. He didn’t give much detail,” Zarius replied. ”But there was a note found near the corpse. A written confession, apparently. The text connects her directly to Princess Iryna’s poisoning.”

Cherion slowed his steps slightly, his mind instantly dissecting the medical and logical layout of the crime. ”A maid? She was the culprit?”

”Everything is pretty much a blur right now,” Zarius agreed, his jaw tightening slightly. ”Almost everyone is treating the note as absolute truth because neatly ties everything together. She could have been the culprit. I’m not ruling that out. But she could just as easily have been someone’s pawn, carrying out orders she didn’t fully understand. Or worse, she could have been the one left behind to take the blame while the person pulling the strings stayed comfortably out of sight.”

Cherion let out a short, dry chuckle that carried zero amusement. ”Well, how incredibly nice of the King to include a Northern Duke in such sensitive internal information. Truly, Auzelian hospitality at its finest.”

Zarius nodded once, a faint, ironical twitch at the corner of his mouth. ”Indeed. And it was exceptionally nice of Prince Yerel to personally invite me down to the servants’ quarters. He quite literally let me check the body and watch the Imperial Guard wreck the dead maid’s chamber upside down, tearing through her blankets and smashing her stools to prove how thorough they were being.”

”How nice indeed,” Cherion muttered, his skepticism dripping from every word.

”It seems we will have to stay another night here,” Zarius said, his voice dropping a bit lower as they approached the threshold of the royal guest wing. ”They may have a confession and a body, but that’s hardly enough to satisfy everyone. Not with so many unanswered questions. They won’t let any of us leave until they’re convinced they’ve found the real culprit.”

Cherion let out a quiet groan, his head dropping against Zarius’s shoulder for a brief second before he pulled himself back up. ”As much as I absolutely hate this place and want to go back to our own home, it’s probably a good thing we’re stuck here. Because of... you know, Iryna.”

He didn’t explicitly mention the tracking magic or the regular intervals of healing energy he needed to push into the princess’s system to keep her stable, but Zarius understood instantly.

”Cherion!”

A sudden, frantic voice shattered the quiet bubble of their conversation. Gillian hurried forward, slipping into place beside Cherion with none of his usual princely composure. His eyes were bright, almost feverishly so, carrying a raw, desperate gratitude that he made no effort to hide. It was the look of someone who had finally found a thread of hope after hours of drowning in fear.

Before Cherion could so much as blink, Gillian reached for him. He clasped Cherion’s hand between both of his own with startling force, pumping it up and down in an enthusiastic shake that completely abandoned every shred of royal decorum. The movement was awkward, almost clumsy, but painfully sincere, as though words alone were no longer enough to express what he was feeling. His grip lingered a moment longer than etiquette allowed, driven more by relief than manners.

”Thank you. Truly, thank you once again. My sister... if you weren’t here, I know she wouldn’t have survived. To hear that you are willing to stay and ensure her recovery, despite how miserable this palace is right now... Solaric owes you a debt that I intend to repay personally.”

Cherion blinked at the sudden, enthusiastic display, his hand completely swallowed by the prince’s frantic grip. ”Uh, it’s fine, Prince Gillian. Really. I’m just doing my job. You don’t need to...”

Beside them, Zarius watched the interaction with a faint, quiet smile, his heavy hand still resting on Cherion’s shoulder.

But before Gillian could finish his second round of thanks, Zarius’s smile vanished instantly. His entire body went rigid as an iron bar, his ears twitching toward the dark, empty stretch of the corridor behind them.

With a speed that seemed entirely impossible for a man of his massive size and supposed illness, Zarius spun around, his heavy cloak snapping loudly in the quiet hallway as his red eyes locked onto the darkness behind them. His hand instinctively dropped toward the empty space at his belt where his blade usually rested.

The movement was so violent and sudden that Gillian stumbled back a step, his breath catching in his throat. Cherion’s hand immediately left Gillian’s grip, his eyes scanning Zarius’s tense profile.

”Zarius?” Cherion asked, his voice sharp with immediate concern. ”What is it?”

The corridor was completely empty. The only person behind them was Flio, who was standing five paces away, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, looking back at the Duke with a thoroughly confused and slightly startled expression. Beyond Flio, the long stone gallery stretched back into the purple twilight, completely silent and entirely deserted.

Zarius stood perfectly still for three long seconds, his chest rising and falling in heavy, controlled breaths as his red eyes searched the deep shadows near the tapestry of the first king. The air felt thick, the silence between them suddenly loud enough to ring in their ears.

Slowly, the tension drained out of the Duke’s shoulders, though his eyes didn’t lose their guarded sharpness. He let his hand drop away from his belt, turning back to face Cherion with a flat expression.

”I thought...” Zarius paused, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly whisper that barely carried in the chilly hallway. He shook his head once, his hand returning to Cherion’s shoulder, though his fingers were slightly tighter now. ”No. Nothing. Let’s go back to the room.”