I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The dark carriage rolled to a final halt against the cobblestones of the driveway, the horses letting out tired, heavy huffs into the cool night air.

As soon as the footman opened the door, Cherion stepped out, taking a long, deep breath of the night breeze. It lacked the suffocating, heavy tension of the royal palace. Looking up at the grand stone façade of the Valtrane capital residence, lit by warm, welcoming lanterns at the entrance, Cherion let out a soft exhale.

"Ah... it’s really so nice to be back home," Cherion murmured, stretching his arms slightly to ease the stiffness in his back.

Zarius stepped down right behind him, his broad frame easily blocking the draft. He adjusted his coat, his red eyes softening as he looked down at the healer beside him.

"Yeah," Zarius grunted, a low, rumbling hum vibrating in his chest as he leaned in slightly. "It was dreadful having my rut hit while cooped up in the palace. We managed, but at least now we can take our time and truly enjoy each other at home."

Cherion’s face instantly flushed a sudden, bright pink. He shot a quick, panicked glance around the driveway before raising his hand and landing a sharp, embarrassed smack right against Zarius’s arm.

"Keep your voice down," Cherion hissed under his breath, his eyes darting toward the footmen who were busy unloading the trunks. "Did you seriously just say that right out in the open?"

Zarius merely let out a low, satisfied chuckle, unbothered by the slap.

Cherion pulled his collar up a bit higher to cover his warming cheeks, his expression settling into a thoughtful, somewhat somber look as they began walking up the stone steps. "Still... it really is a shame about the banquet," Cherion said softly, his tone turning reflective. "The whole celebration was supposed to honor the success of the subjugation. To have it completely ruined by a poison incident..."

"It is what it is," Zarius replied smoothly. "The capital is never without its filth. We survived the frontlines; a botched political scheme isn’t going to shake us."

As they crossed the threshold into the main foyer, Zarius’s sharp eyes shifted past Cherion, settling on a figure walking silently ahead of them.

Marielle was moving toward the grand staircase with unusually quiet, heavy steps. She hadn’t said a single word since they boarded the carriage at the palace gates. Her head was down, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and she seemed entirely tuned out from the world around her.

Zarius frowned slightly, his sibling intuition ringing alarm bells. He quickened his pace, closing the distance before she could reach the first landing.

"Marielle," Zarius called out gently.

Marielle flinched slightly, snapping out of her trance. She paused on the second step and turned around, forcing a small, tight smile onto her face as she looked back down at her brother. "Oh... Brother. What is it?"

Zarius stopped at the base of the stairs, looking up at her with a steady, searching gaze. "Are you alright? You’ve been quiet since we left the palace."

"Yes, of course I am," Marielle answered quickly, her voice a little too high, a little too hasty. She smoothed down the front of her jacket with unnecessary force. "I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. It’s been a ridiculously long day."

Cherion stepped up beside Zarius, looking at Marielle with genuine concern. He noticed the faint pale tint to her cheeks and the tense, exhausted line of her shoulders.

"Should I give you a bit of my healing power?" Cherion offered warmly, stepping a bit closer to the banister. "It might help take the edge off the fatigue so you can rest easier."

Marielle blinked, visibly softened by the offer, but she quickly shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. "No, no need for that, Cherion. Don’t go wasting your power on me for something so small. It’s just simple fatigue, nothing a good night’s sleep and a whole lot of alcohol can’t cure."

Cherion hesitated, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. "I’m... not entirely sure about the drink part being good for fatigue..."

Before Cherion could give her a proper medical lecture, Marielle let out a faint, breathless laugh and took another step up the stairs, eager to make her escape. "I’ll be fine, really. You two should get some good rest as well. Goodnight."

"Marielle."

Zarius’s commanding voice stopped her in her tracks once more. Marielle paused, her hand gripping the carved banister tightly.

Zarius stepped up onto the first stair, reaching out to place his broad, warm hand over hers. His dark eyes were soft, stripped of all Duke persona, filled only with the quiet, protective weight of an older brother.

"If you have something on your mind," Zarius said quietly, his voice low enough that only she could hear, "you can tell me. You don’t have to carry it alone."

Marielle stared at his hand for a long moment. Her eyelids fluttered, a brief, dark flicker crossing her eyes before she forced a quick blink. She swallowed hard, squeezed her hands into fists, and let out a small breath. When she looked back up, her face was completely still. She reached up with her free hand, gently patting the back of Zarius’s fingers.

"I know, Brother," Marielle murmured softly, her eyes softening with genuine affection. "I really do know. I just... I really need to clear my mind right now. That’s all."

She gently pulled her hand back, turned around, and continued up the stairs without waiting for a reply. As her silhouette vanished down the upper hall, a faint, tiny mutter drifted back down to the foyer.

"...God, how I need a very large glass of wine right now."

Cherion walked over to stand right next to Zarius, both of them staring up at the empty staircase where Marielle had just vanished.

Cherion tilted his head, turning to glance at the Duke. "Is it just me... or is Marielle acting really weird tonight?"

Zarius didn’t answer immediately. He kept his eyes fixed on the corridor above, his jaw set in a quiet, contemplative line. He knew his sister better than anyone, she was a fierce, straight-talking warrior of the North. For her to be cornering herself, avoiding his eyes, and hiding behind drinks meant something had rattled her down to her very core.

"She is," Zarius finally acknowledged, his voice dropping into a low, quiet rumble as he turned to face Cherion. "Something happened back at the palace. But... let’s just give her some time for now."

Cherion looked back up the stairs one last time, nodding slowly. "Yeah," he muttered to the room. "All we can do for now."

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