The Omega Who Wasn’t Supposed to Exist

[Inside the Imperial Chamber]

The chamber burned with frantic firelight, shadows thrashing against the silk curtains as healers and priests rushed in and out. The air reeked of incense, sweat, and panic.

Lucien lay pale against the velvet sheets, his hair plastered damp to his forehead, breaths ragged, shallow—but determined. His hands clutched the sheets until his knuckles turned bone-white.

"Push, my lord… please, push—!" Faylen urged, beads of sweat dripping down his temples.

"Aghhh—!" Lucien cried, his voice hoarse, trembling with pain. "I… I can't…! Why—why is the baby coming this soon…? WHY—?!"

"Stay with me, my lord," Frederick pleaded, his voice cracking as he pressed on Lucien's side. "Don't close your eyes, please—hold on and try again—!"

Lucien screamed, back arching as the pain tore through him. "AGHHHHHHHHH—!!! I… CAN'T—DAMN IT—!!" He sobbed, his strength draining away, eyelids fluttering shut. "…Silas… I need… Silas…" His voice shook, breaking apart. "…Silas…"

The doors BURST open.

"LUCIEN!!!"

The Grand Duke stormed inside, his face blanched white with terror. The mighty man who once terrified armies, who had never faltered before blade or beast—looked nothing more than a broken, desperate husband.

He fell to Lucien's side in seconds, grabbing his trembling hand, kissing it over and over. "I'm here—I'm here, my love! Don't you close those eyes, don't you dare!"

"Silas…" Lucien's lips quivered into a weak smile, eyes glossing with tears. "You're… here…"

"Always. Always here." Silas pressed his forehead against Lucien's, holding his hand tighter as if his grip alone could anchor him to this world.

Frederick barked out desperately, "My lord! Release your pheromones—calm him! Keep him awake—if he sleeps, we lose both!"

Silas nodded without hesitation, releasing his powerful scent. The air thickened, warm and grounding, wrapping around Lucien like an embrace. Lucien gasped, his body trembling but fighting, holding on.

"PUSH, MY LORD—PUSH!" Faylen cried.

Lucien clenched his teeth, screamed through the agony, "AGHHHHHHHH—PLEASE… COME OUT—!!! IT HURTS—IT HURTS LIKE HELL!!!"

Faylen's eyes widened, sweat dripping down his jaw. "The head—we see the head! Just—just a little more!"

"GHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The chamber rang with Lucien's cry as his body gave one last, desperate push. Then silence—his exhausted head slumped forward, falling against Silas's lap.

"You did it, my love… you did it," Silas whispered, kissing his hair, voice trembling with both pride and fear.

Lucien, shaking, tried to smile—but then froze. His blurred eyes darted toward Frederick, who stood there holding a small, wet bundle in his arms… silent.

Lucien's voice cracked, barely a whisper. "Why… why isn't my baby crying…?"

The chamber fell deathly still.

Frederick's face went pale, his hands trembling around the newborn.

Lucien's heart dropped into an abyss. "…Wh-why…? Why won't he… cry?"

Silas's blood ran cold. "Frederick… answer me. WHY IS MY SON SILENT?!"

. . .

Frederick swallowed hard. His arms shook as he held the small, limp bundle against his chest. His lips quivered before the words finally broke free, each one cutting like a blade.

"M-My lord… Lord Lucien… he—he delivered a stillborn… the child… is gone."

The world shattered.

Lucien froze. His eyes widened, pupils blown in disbelief. Tears blurred his vision as he stared at Frederick.

"…What?" The word was barely a breath. Then louder, broken, desperate: "What… what did you just say?"

His gaze snapped down at the tiny, quiet body in Frederick's hands. His heart refused to accept what his ears had heard.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING?!" Lucien screamed, his voice echoing like a wounded beast through the chamber.

He thrashed in Silas's arms, trembling violently, his face contorted in anguish. "HOW DARE YOU, FREDERICK—HOW DARE YOU CALL MY SON DEAD?! I SWEAR—I SWEAR I SHALL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND!"

The chamber shook with his voice. Even the flames in the sconces flickered like they feared his rage.

Everyone outside heard his cry. The heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor before the doors flung open. Seraphina, Callen, Theoran, the Emperor, and the Empress—all of them rushed inside, breathless.

"What happened?!" Seraphina gasped, her eyes darting between the pale Lucien, the frantic Silas, and Frederick clutching the infant.

But no one answered. Not a soul dared to breathe.

Then, with a sudden, trembling strength, Lucien shoved Silas's arm away. His whole body quaked, but his will burned fierce.

With wild desperation, he staggered upright against the pillows, reaching out. "GIVE HIM TO ME—!" His voice cracked, shattered. "My son… is not gone. My baby… my baby is ALIVE!"

Before anyone could stop him, Lucien snatched the tiny bundle from Frederick's hands, pulling the infant against his chest.

Tears streamed freely down his cheeks as he pressed frantic kisses on the child's damp forehead. His voice broke into sobs.

"Breathe… please… please, my love… just breathe for me. You're mine—you're mine—you can't leave me. Cry… just once… please…"

The chamber was silent. No one dared move, no one dared breathe—every soul inside suspended in Lucien's desperate prayer.

Then—"Mama…?"

A tiny, trembling voice broke through. Elysia had slipped inside with Kael at her heels. Her round eyes widened at the sight of Lucien cradling the still infant, his face streaked with tears.

She stepped closer, her voice breaking. "Mama… why are you crying? What's wrong with my brother…?"

Lucien's whole body shook, but his arms tightened around the fragile bundle. His voice was hoarse, his sobs raw.

"Right… blowing… I must…"

He bent over his son, pressing desperate breaths into the tiny mouth. Again and again— "Please… my love… wake up. Don't leave Mama behind… please…"

He rubbed the baby's chest, kissed his forehead, pressed more air into his lungs. His tears dripped onto the small face, mingling with sweat and incense.

"Please… please… breathe for me…"

Silas's throat closed. He couldn't watch lucein unravel like this. He moved forward, voice breaking."Lucei—"

But Lucien didn't hear him. He only rubbed harder, tapped the infant's chest, and then—desperate, frantic—he struck a light slap against the tiny body.

"PLEASE!"

Nothing.

Silas's heart shattered. He pulled Lucien into his chest, his own hands trembling violently. "Enough—stop, my love. You'll break yourself apart—Frederick, take the child."

"NO!" Lucien shrieked, eyes wild, voice raw enough to tear his throat. His entire body thrashed in Silas's arms. "NO! DON'T TOUCH HIM—DON'T YOU DARE—"

But Silas, wrenched the bundle from Lucien's arms. His voice cracked as he handed it over. "Take him away… bury him."

The chamber gasped.

Lucien went still for a heartbeat. Then—SLAP!

The sound cracked across the chamber like thunder. Lucien had struck Silas, harder than he ever had in his life. His voice came out hoarse, broken, furious, trembling.

"How dare you… HOW DARE YOU, SILAS?! You're his father… his father! How… how can you say those words?!"

Silas closed his eyes, his whole body shaking. He pulled Lucien against him anyway, his voice breaking. "I cannot… I cannot bear to see you like this. I'm sorry… I'm sorry, my love…"

Frederick, pale and stricken, bowed his head and turned with the still infant in his arms. He took one step toward the door.

"NO...MY CHILD! YOU CANNOT....MY CHILD..."

And then—

"WAAHHHHH… WAAAAHHHHHHHHH… WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The newborn's wail shattered the silence, high and strong, filling the chamber like the cry of life itself returning to the earth.

Everyone froze. Everyone turned towards the door. Frederick stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, staring down at the baby now squirming in his hands.

Lucien's breath caught like his lungs had been ripped open. He tore himself free from Silas's arms, stumbling forward on trembling legs, hands reaching, desperate.

"My… my son… my baby—!" His voice broke, shattering like glass as he fell to his knees and snatched the tiny bundle into his arms.

The child's cries echoed in the chamber, raw and alive, as Lucien clutched him to his chest, sobbing so hard his whole body convulsed.

"I knew it—I knew you wouldn't leave Mama behind. I knew… I knew my love…!" His lips pressed against the baby's damp forehead, his tears soaking the soft skin.

Seraphina let out a strangled cry, covering her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. Even the Emperor's stoic mask shattered—his hand lifted, trembling, trying and failing to hide his face as his shoulders shook. The Empress clung to him, sobbing openly.

And Silas?

Silas fell to his knees beside Lucien, his shoulders shaking as he finally let his sobs fall.

Their son lived.

"Mama…" Elysia's small, broken voice pierced the chaos. She stumbled forward, cheeks wet, clinging desperately to Lucien's sleeve.

Lucien turned, still sobbing, kissing her hair. "Elysia… look… your brother… he's here—he's here…" His voice was hoarse, drenched with relief.

Silas pulled their daughter into his embrace as well, his voice thick as he whispered against her hair, "See, my star… the heavens heard us. God gave your brother back to us."

The four of them—Lucien, Silas, Elysia, and the newborn—collapsed into each other, an unbreakable knot of arms and tears and trembling breaths. The chamber that had once echoed with grief now resounded with the wails of new life, a miracle binding them tighter than ever before.

***

[Three Weeks Later—Rynthall Estate]

"Aww… he looks like an angel…" Seraphina cooed, bending over the crib.

The child blinked, his silver hair catching the sunlight, brown eyes wide and curious.

The Empress leaned in beside her, clasping her hands together. "I disagree," she said with mock seriousness. "He's not just like an angel. He's far cuter than any angel I've ever seen."

Count, sera's father, puffed up his chest, pointing at the newborn with pride. "Zereth… it's your grandpa. Look at me, boy, your true grandpa."

Theoran immediately shoved him aside, glaring like a rival knight. "…And I'm the bigger grandpa."

The two old men glared at each other like children fighting over a sweet bun. Lucein, lounging on the couch with tea in hand, chuckled softly, his eyes warm as he watched the ridiculous crowd swarming around his newborn son.

Meanwhile, Silas and Elysia weren't paying attention to anyone else. Both had clung to Lucein like koalas, one on either side of him, refusing to let go. Silas kissed the corner of his smile and murmured, "You look beautiful when you smile, my love."

Elysia nodded eagerly, tugging at Lucien's sleeve. "Yes, Mama—I agree with Papa! You look the most beautiful in the whole wide world when you smile."

Lucein blinked between the two of them, utterly confused.

It was then that Frederick and Faylen entered the hall, bowing low. Their voices carried over the noise, silencing the room.

"My lord," Frederick began solemnly, "we have discovered young Lord Zereth's second gender."

All eyes turned at once. Faylen's lips curved into a proud smile as he declared, "Lord Zereth is… a Dominant Alpha!"

Gasps rippled through the hall. Applause erupted; everyone clapped. Even Elysia, who had no idea what it meant, clapped her tiny hands with great enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Near the crib, Crown Prince Kael, who had tiptoed through the adults until he finally reached it. He peeked inside, and when his gaze fell on Zereth, he froze.

"Wow…" Kael whispered, awestruck. "He's… so cute."

As if hearing the words, Zereth turned his little head, brown eyes locking onto Kael. He stared for a heartbeat, then giggled—a soft, delighted sound that melted hearts instantly.

Kael, blushing furiously, reached a cautious finger into the crib. And then, with surprising strength, baby Zereth's tiny hand curled tightly around it.

Kael's breath hitched, his face turning red as he whispered, "…He's holding me."

And in that small, tender moment—the room of chaos, the storms of battles, the cries of birth—all seemed like distant echoes. Because here was the beginning of another story, a new thread of fate.

It was the gentle, innocent start of Crown Prince Kael and Zereth Rynthall's tale.

And for Silas and Lucein, it was their happy ending—two children, a life that was both chaotic and beautiful, stitched together with love.

—THE END—