A caged omega

Seraphina let out a slow, shaking breath.

The chamber was beautiful—ornate carvings on the walls, dark silks draped over the massive bed, gold-trimmed furniture placed with deliberate elegance. The scent of burning cedar and spiced resin lingered in the air, but it could not mask the truth.

This was not a bridal chamber.

It was a cage.

And she was the offering.

Seraphina pressed her hands against the cool stone of the vanity, her reflection staring back at her in the dim candlelight. Her skin was too pale. Her lips, slightly parted, held the remnants of a carefully maintained mask.

But behind her eyes?

Rage.

Rage so deep, so suffocating, it threatened to consume her whole.

She should not be here. She should not belong to them.

Her father’s words rang in her mind, his voice as cold as the steel of a blade.

"You will make them love you. You will make them kneel. And when the time comes, you will destroy them."

Seraphina’s fingers curled into fists.

Love them? Kneel?

The only thing she wanted was their ruin.

For her mother.

For the woman who had once held her as a child, whispered stories of a future where she would be safe, where love was not a battlefield but a sanctuary.

And they had taken her away.

Not with their own hands—no, that would have been merciful.

But with their silence.

Years ago, when Seraphina was just a girl, her mother had begged for their help.

The neighboring kingdom had invaded their lands, setting villages ablaze, slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. The Omega Queen had sent messages—desperate pleas for aid—knowing the only ones strong enough to stand against the invaders were the three Alpha Lords.

They had done nothing. Her mother had died screaming. Burned alive in the wreckage of their home.

And these men—these kings, these rulers, these beasts—had merely watched.

Because it had not been their war. Because they had not cared.

And now…now they dared to call her their bride?

Seraphina's grip tightened on the edge of the vanity. Her nails bit into the polished wood, but she welcomed the sting.

She would never forgive them. She would never love them. She only wants to ruin them.

Even if it killed her.

But to do that, she had to play the game.

One wrong step could mean her life.

These Alphas were not men who spared the weak. If they so much as suspected her true intentions, she would be ripped apart. They would not hesitate to devour her in the way they had promised—not as a wife, but as a lesson.

Seraphina closed her eyes, forcing the tremor in her hands to still. She had spent years preparing for this moment. She knew how to be the delicate flower, the trembling, untouched bride.

She knew how to be desirable.

But most of all…She knew how to be dangerous.

She exhaled slowly and turned from the mirror.

And when they least expected it—when they had let down their guards, when they had fallen for her, when they thought they had won—She would burn their world to the ground.

The room had been prepared for her ruin.

Seraphina took slow, deliberate steps inside, her fingers grazing over the edge of the bed. Silk sheets, perfumed with night jasmine. The golden lanterns flickered dimly, casting a warm glow across the chamber, their shadows dancing on the velvet walls. Everything—from the polished goblets of wine to the lace-trimmed robe folded neatly by the bedside—spoke of one thing.

Submission.

A bridal chamber meant for a night of conquest.

The thought made her stomach coil in disgust.

Did they want her to die here? To shatter beneath them before she even had the chance to fight?

She exhaled through her nose, forcing herself to remain still.

She had known this was coming.

She had known the moment her father handed her over, the moment her hands trembled between three outstretched palms, that she would have to let them touch her so easily.

Seraphina inhaled, pushing away the disgust curling in her chest. She knew she could not fight them head-on.

She has to unravel them one by one.

She moved toward the window, staring out at the darkened kingdom below. Somewhere in these halls, three monsters were waiting for her. And she had to choose which one to ensnare first.

Darius would be last. That much was certain in her mind.

He was the most intelligent of the three, he was the one who had immediately seen through her words, the one who played along but never truly believed.

Cassian was the easiest to manipulate, but also the most volatile. He had already admitted he couldn’t wait to break her. He would give in too quickly if she played it right, but he was also dangerous—too impatient, too eager. A wrong move with him could get her killed.

Lucien.

Seraphina’s lips parted slightly as she considered him.

He was sharp, yes. Dangerous, undeniably. But there was a certain laziness to him, as if he didn’t quite care about the game as much as the others. He was amused by her, intrigued, but not nearly as suspicious as Darius or as predatory as Cassian.

Lucien, then.

He would be her first.

She would start slow. Let him think he was the one pulling her in. She would give them exactly what they wanted—the trembling, uncertain little bride, the virgin who had never known an Alpha’s touch. And then, when he least expected it…

She would sink her claws into his heart.

But she had to be careful since she was in a palace of beasts. If they caught even a hint of her true intentions, they would rip her apart and leave nothing but bones and silk-stained blood behind.

She swallowed, pressing a hand to her chest, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of her heartbeat.

Seraphina did not sleep the entire night.

She had closed her eyes, willing her body to rest, but the moment darkness took her, it was as if she could feel them in the walls—three Alphas, breathing the same air, waiting.

Waiting for her to make a mistake.

Waiting to claim what was now theirs.

By the time dawn broke, she was still curled beneath the heavy silk sheets, her muscles stiff from lying awake in silent vigilance. Fear had no place here. And yet, the night had pressed down on her like a blade against her throat.

When the doors slammed open, her body jerked upright, eyes sharp.

A dozen maids entered, moving in perfect synchronicity.

Before she could even demand an explanation, they were upon her. Seraphina had never been touched so much in her life.

Hands undressed her without a word, lifting the silk from her body as if she were nothing more than a fragile doll. Warm water was poured over her skin, scented with crushed petals and royal oils.

She gritted her teeth, letting them scrub away the night. She had been born a princess, raised with elegance and dignity—but this?

This was preparation. As if she was meant to be presented.

The maids worked in silence, drying her hair, weaving golden chains through the strands. Layers of fine silk draped over her body, the deep crimson shade matching the blood-red rubies hanging from her ears.

When it was done, the senior maid stepped forward, tilting her chin up with careful fingers.

“My lady,” she said softly, eyes filled with quiet admiration. “You are more beautiful than I ever imagined. The lords are lucky to have you.”

Seraphina forced a smile. A perfect, innocent, delicate smile. Her fists clenched beneath the folds of her gown.

‘Lucky to have me? No,’ she thought bitterly. ‘I am the one cursed to have them.’

Once she was ready, one of the younger maids hesitated before stepping forward. “The lords await you, my lady.”

Seraphina met the girl’s nervous gaze. “Why?”

After a pause. “It is…tradition.”

“Tradition?”

The girl swallowed. “On the morning after the wedding, the bride must…feed the kings herself.”

Seraphina’s blood ran cold. She almost laughed. Laughed in their faces. Feed them? With her own hands?

She should feed them poison instead.

It would be so easy. One wrong bite. A single mistake.

For a moment, the idea was almost too tempting. But she let the cruel thought pass, replacing it with a slow, sweet smile.

How utterly ridiculous. These men, these monsters, wanted to be fed like kings.

Fine. She would give them what they wanted for now because what other choice does she have?

She was escorted down the long, marble halls, her heartbeat a steady drum against her ribs. And then—The doors to the grand dining hall swung open.

There they were.

Three kings.

Three beasts dressed in elegance and power.

Cassian leaned back lazily in his chair, watching her like a wolf watches a lamb. Lucien smirked, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his golden gaze. And Darius—silent, unreadable Darius—simply observed.

They did not look at her like she was their bride. They looked at her like she was their possession. She felt the heat of their gazes sweeping over her form, examining her. She wanted to rip their throats out.

Instead, she stepped forward with perfect poise, tilting her chin up as if she had been born for this role.

Lucien let out a low, approving hum. “Look at you. A vision of beauty.”

Cassian grinned, his eyes gleaming with something dark. “Indeed. Our little bride is quite the masterpiece.”

Seraphina smiled sweetly. "How kind of you," she murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "I am honored by my lords' praise."

She wanted to throw up.

Darius, who had been silent, finally leaned forward. And then—slowly—he extended his hand.

“The ritual must be fulfilled quickly without any further delays.”

The other two followed, holding out their hands as well.

An invitation.

Or a command.

Seraphina stared at their outstretched palms. At the sheer arrogance in the way they expected her to obey.

The tension in the room thickened. Everyone was watching. This was another test. Her first night had been a mercy from them.

This was where the real game began.

She lifted her delicate fingers and chose which Alpha would taste the first bite from her delicate hands.