I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

"We’re here."

By the time the carriage slowly came to a stop., Cherion already knew this place had bad vibes. Not just because of the cold, though yeah, the air felt like it could slice skin, but because of the silence.

Not peaceful silence. Not "aww, how serene" silence.

No.

This was the kind of silence that said: turn around while you still can.

He stepped out, his boots sinking into a thin crust of frost that crunched underfoot. The Valtrane cemetery sat in a natural dip in the earth, like the ground had just... given way at some point. To reach the graves, they had to walk down a set of wide stone steps that disappeared into a stretch of grey mist.

Cherion pulled his cloak tighter, exhaling a puff of breath that looked suspiciously ghost-like. Well, he thought, suppressed a shiver that was only half-about the cold, cemeteries aren’t exactly lively no matter where you are.

Ahead of him, Zarius was already moving. Less "grieving son," more "general inspecting a war zone."

"Only a few are permitted here," Zarius said. "The lineage is kept private. The North doesn’t believe in making a spectacle of its ancestors."

"Makes sense," Cherion murmured, stepping carefully over uneven stone. "Keep the family secrets tucked away where the frost can guard them."

They reached the summit of the rise, where two massive slabs of obsidian stood side-by-side. A couple of flowers sat there, probably Winston’s, but otherwise, the site was painfully bare.

Zarius stopped. He stood perfectly straight, his shoulders square, and for a long moment, he just stared at the stones.

"Father. Mother... I’m back." Zarius paused. "It’s been awhile."

Cherion watched him from a respectful few paces back, his heart twisting.

"The North is doing fine. Everything’s under control. You don’t need to worry," he continued.

He sounded like a soldier briefing his generals, desperate to prove that the line hadn’t broken on his watch. He gave a short, stiff nod to the stone on the left, his mother’s, and then his posture seemed to fracture, just a little.

Zarius took a deep, shuddering breath, the kind that sounded like it hurt his lungs. He turned slightly, his gaze catching Cherion’s.

"Mother, Father," Zarius began, and this time his voice was different. "This is Cherion. My... my fiancé."

Cherion felt a jolt go through him, a mixture of terror and a fierce, sudden heat that had nothing to do with the weather.

Cherion stepped forward, moving out of the shadows and into the weak, grey light. "Hello, former Duke and Duchess," he said softly. "I’m the one who’s been making his life difficult lately. I plan on continuing that for a very long time."

Zarius didn’t smile, but the tension in his jaw eased. He reached into the folds of his cloak, pulling out a bundle of white roses. They looked impossibly bright against the dark stone, a splash of life in a place of endings.

"She loved these," Zarius murmured, his voice finally cracking, just a tiny bit, on the edges. "She said they were a symbol of life that refused to be smothered by the snow. Every year, I bring them. One for her, one for..."

He stopped. His hands, usually so steady they could hold a blade without a single tremor, went completely still. He looked at the bouquet in his hand. Then he looked back at the path, his eyes searching the empty ground behind them.

The frustration showed on his face instantly. It wasn’t just annoyance, it was a deep, biting shame. "The other bouquet," he hissed, his fingers tightening on the stems. "I left the second one in the carriage."

He looked at Cherion, and for a second, he looked like a boy who had failed a crucial test. Cherion realized then that he’d been so caught up in the drama of the "fiancé" reveal that he hadn’t noticed the missing flowers either. He gave Zarius a soft smile.

"Go," Cherion said. "I’ll stay here. I’ll... keep them entertained. Take your time, Zarius. They aren’t going anywhere."

Zarius hesitated, then nodded sharply and turned, his heavy cloak snapping in the wind as he began the trek back down the slope.

The second Zarius disappeared around the bend, Cherion’s smile dropped.

The warmth faded from his eyes, replaced by something colder, sharper, more defiant. He turned back to the graves, his hands dropping to his sides. He didn’t look respectful anymore. He looked furious.

"Right," Cherion snapped. "He’s gone, so I’m just going to say it. You were both horrible parents."

He marched right up to the headstone belonging to the late Duke, his eyes narrowed.

"I don’t care about the ’Full Story’ or whatever noble excuses you had," he growled. "I don’t care if the war was hard or everything was heavy. You torture him. You turned a child into a weapon before he even knew what his own hands were for. Do you have any idea how much he carries? He thinks he’s a wall. He thinks his only value is in how much weight he can support before he collapses."

Cherion kicked the frozen dirt like it personally offended him. "Was it going to kill you to say ’good job, son’ once? Just once? The guy did everything right and you still graded him like there was some secret higher score!"

He turned to the mother’s stone. "And you... what was going through your head? ’Oh yes, let me just emotionally ruin my child today’? Calling him a monster? Seriously, Lady?"

Cherion rubbed his face. "I wish I could have said this to your faces while you were still breathing, but since I can’t, you’re just going to have to listen to me now."

He leaned in, whispering now, a fierce, protective snarl in his tone. "I’m taking over. I don’t care about your traditions or your ’Duke’s duty.’ If you don’t like it, too bad. You had your chance to raise him. Now he’s mine."

He stood there for a long time, breathing heavily, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt a bit ridiculous, yelling at rocks, but the anger that had been simmering in him since he’d seen Zarius’s trembling hands finally felt like it had a place to go.

The sound of a boot hitting a stone startled him. He snapped back into a pose of quiet, somber reflection just as Zarius crested the hill, clutching the second bouquet.

Zarius approached, silent, and placed the second bundle of roses on the other grave. He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the stone, and a strange thing happened.

They stood together in a shared silence for a minute longer, the only sound the distant cry of a hawk and the constant, low thrum of the wind. Finally, Zarius nodded, a silent goodbye, and they turned to leave.

As they walked back toward the carriage, the path a bit easier now that they were heading down, Zarius glanced at him. "I appreciate you coming, Cherion."

Cherion snorted, a small, genuine sound. "Yeah, though you almost left without me, remember?"

"I wasn’t entirely sure you would want to. It isn’t a pleasant way to spend an afternoon."

"Well, it’s not unpleasant," Cherion said, bumping his shoulder against Zarius’s arm. "But yeah... I think we’ve got enough gloom already, don’t you?"

Zarius raised a brow at Cherion, who just grinned. "Let’s go do something fun."