I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The grand orchestra swelled with a seamless, sweeping melody, the vibrant notes of the strings filling every corner of the imperial ballroom. Out on the dance floor, completely unbothered by the hundreds of eyes drilling into them, Zarius and Cherion moved in perfect sync.

Zarius’s large palm rested securely against Cherion’s waist, his grip firm yet remarkably gentle as he guided his mate through the graceful turns of the waltz. Cherion looked up, a smile gracing his lips. Every step he took was effortless, his posture radiating a quiet, mesmerizing elegance that belonged entirely to high society.

”Madame Varo would probably shed a tear if she could see you right now,” he murmured. ”All those hours she spent stressing over your posture definitely paid off. You look like you were born to rule the dance floor.”

Cherion let out a soft, melodic chuckle, his blue eyes flashing with amusement. ”Please, don’t remind me of her strict lessons. I still have nightmares about her wooden cane striking the floor like it was keeping score. But I suppose I should be grateful. At least I’m not stepping on your boots tonight.”

”You could step on them all night, and I wouldn’t care,” Zarius answered calmly, holding Cherion’s gaze with a focus that made his heart stutter.

As they moved across the floor, Zarius’s eyes casually scanned the ballroom, taking in the chaos of the other nobles. Not far away, the Solaric siblings were making quite the impression. Gillian was dancing with an air of theatrical grandeur, while Iryna moved with a sharp, regal precision that demanded respect.

Further toward the edge of the floor, a completely different kind of chaos was unfolding. Elios was in the middle of a serious, animated conversation with Reiner, gesturing casually with a glass in his hand. But before Reiner could even nod in response, Ezek suddenly appeared from the crowd. Without a single word of warning, Ezek grabbed Reiner by the arm and smoothly pulled him straight onto the dance floor, leaving Elios standing completely alone, staring blankly at his empty hands.

Cherion noticed the look on Zarius’s face and glanced over, letting out another quiet laugh at Elios’s expense. ”They really are a handful,” Cherion whispered, before shifting his gaze down to the secure pouch at Zarius’s belt. ”By the way... I really love Iryna’s gift. It’s so incredibly cute.”

”It is,” Zarius agreed, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned in just a fraction closer. ”That’s exactly why I took your wolf. I’m keeping it safe right next to me.”

Cherion’s cheeks flushed a faint, pretty pink, but before he could tease Zarius about being sentimental, he felt a heavy, suffocating sensation prickling at the back of his neck. He didn’t even need to look across the room to know who it was.

Zarius felt it, too. His jaw tightened slightly, his gaze shifting over Cherion’s shoulder.

Yerel was there, his fingers white-knuckled around his partner’s hand as he danced with Philia. What does he think he’s doing, staring like that?

When the final chords of the waltz finally resonated through the hall, the couples on the floor began to bow and part ways. Zarius, however, didn’t let go of Cherion’s waist right away.

”Let’s go for a second round,” Zarius murmured, his hand tightening slightly as the orchestra began to tune their instruments for the next song.

Cherion blinked in surprise, a playful grin breaking across his face as he lightly patted Zarius’s chest. ”Zarius, we can’t. It’s against the court rules to dance two consecutive songs with the same partner at a formal banquet. People will talk.”

”Let them talk,” Zarius said, his tone completely dismissive. ”I don’t care about the Capital’s ridiculous rules.”

”I know you don’t,” Cherion chuckled, leaning in to whisper against his shoulder. ”But remember? You’re supposed to be in ’failing health’ right now. A dying Duke shouldn’t have the stamina to aggressively dominate the imperial dance floor for two songs straight. Act a little weak, please?”

Zarius let out a defeated, quiet sigh, though his eyes remained soft. ”Fine.”

Playing along, Zarius allowed his posture to slacken just a fraction, letting out a completely fake, theatrical cough into his hand that made Cherion feign a sad, pouting expression in response. Together, they left the dance floor and walked over to where Marielle was standing near the grand columns.

Marielle was currently leaning against a small high-top table, looking thoroughly unbothered by the high-society glamour around her. She was casually picking at a plate of expensive, bite-sized appetizers, completely ignoring the lingering gazes of several young nobles who were hovering nearby.

”Not dancing tonight?” Cherion asked lightheartedly as they approached.

Marielle swallowed her food and offered them a lazy shrug. ”No. And it’s not because I don’t like dancing. I actually quite enjoy it. I just absolutely despise this kind of dancing. It’s too stiff, too fake, and full of people I’d rather throw out a window.”

Zarius nodded subtly. He had been watching from the floor how Marielle had coldly and systematically rejected every single noble who had dared approach her with an extended hand.

Marielle crossed her arms, her gaze shifting directly to Zarius as a crossed her face. ”Besides, I already decided that my first dance tonight is going to be with my brother anyway. I’m not wasting it on any of these Capital parasites.”

Before they could chat any further, the crowd parted as Gillian and Iryna finished their dance, walking over to join their group. Gillian was practically glowing, a massive, overly energetic grin splitting his face. He looked at Zarius, and then turned his full attention to Cherion.

”That was an excellent set,” Gillian said, wiping a nonexistent speck of sweat from his brow. He then looked at Cherion. His gaze then shifted to Cherion, a hint of mischief flickering in his eyes. Turning to Zarius, he added, ”Duke, would you permit me to steal Lord Cherion for the next dance?”

An immediate, icy chill settled over Zarius’s features. Inside his mind, a fiercely possessive monster was screaming at the absolute absurdity of the request. He absolutely hated the thought of Cherion dancing with anyone else, let alone a flashy prince from a foreign empire.

Zarius pushed the possessive feeling down and kept his tone calm and controlled. ”Cherion is a living person, Prince Gillian. He is not my property. Why are you asking me for permission? If you want to dance with him, you need to ask him directly and see if he actually wants to.”

Zarius watched as Cherion’s eyes softened, a deep, radiant warmth clear in his expression at the words. Smiling brightly, Cherion turned his gaze toward Gillian, who was already eagerly extending his hand.

”I’d love to, Prince Gillian,” Cherion said casually. He turned back to Zarius, giving his hand a reassuring, gentle squeeze. ”I’ll be right back.”

As Cherion and Gillian walked out onto the floor, Zarius was left standing with Marielle and Iryna. Marielle swallowed her pastry, wiped her hands, and extended her palm toward him with a stubborn, fierce look in her eyes.

”Shall we, Brother?” Marielle asked.

”Aaahhh, say, Sister,” Zarius began. ”Don’t you think you should take Princess Iryna out to the floor and dance with her?”

Marielle froze. She blinked, looking at Zarius like he had suddenly grown a second head. ”Huh? What are you talking about?”

”I would do the honors myself, considering our guest’s high status,” Zarius lied smoothly, letting out another weak, entirely fabricated cough into his fist. ”But as you can see... my health is failing, and I simply don’t feel too good. It’s only polite that you take her.”

Before Marielle could even open her mouth, Iryna’s eyes lit up. The Solaric princess let out a soft, elegant hum, a beautiful smile breaking across her face.

”Oh, I think that is a wonderful idea,” Iryna said smoothly. Without waiting for a rejection, she gracefully raised her hand, resting it in the open air, completely ready for Marielle to take it.

Marielle looked at Iryna’s elegant hand, then at Zarius. But with a foreign princess waiting so publicly, Marielle couldn’t just walk away. Letting out a sharp breath, Marielle grumbled under her breath, stepped forward, and firmly took Iryna’s hand.

”Fine,” Marielle muttered, though her grip was perfectly polite as she led a smiling Iryna straight toward the center of the floor.

Left entirely alone, Zarius leaned back against the stone column, his gaze immediately locking back onto Cherion. For the next few minutes, the rest of the world completely ceased to exist for the Duke. He stood in absolute silence, completely worshipping Cherion inside his mind.

He watched the way Cherion moved so gracefully, his soft laughter slipping out as Gillian made his usual ridiculous jokes. Cherion looked almost impossibly radiant, as if the ugliness of the world around him couldn’t touch him at all, that Zarius felt a fierce, burning urge to just pack everything up and take him back to the pristine North where he belonged.

When the song finally concluded, Gillian offered a respectful bow, and Cherion turned, making his way straight back to Zarius’s side. Zarius’s eyes softened instantly the moment his mate returned.

Looking out over the floor, Cherion raised an eyebrow in complete surprise. ”Wait... is Marielle still out there?”

Zarius looked over and realized that, somehow, Marielle and Iryna hadn’t left the floor. The music shifted into something faster, and Marielle was currently spinning Iryna around with a look of intense, stubborn concentration, while the princess looked like she was having the time of her life.

”Looks like it,” Zarius murmured, turning around to grab a fresh, crystal glass of sweet sparkling juice from a passing servant’s tray. He handed it over. ”Here. You must be thirsty.”

”Thank you,” Cherion said happily, accepting the drink and taking a long, refreshing sip.

The two of them stood close, casually tasting a few small finger foods from the table, enjoying the brief, peaceful oasis they had carved out for themselves in the middle of the crowded hall.

But the peace didn’t last.

Two figures stepped forward, cutting through the crowd with absolute elegance and arrogance. Dressed in the heavy white and gold of the throne, Yerel walked straight toward them, with Philia following half a step behind him like a fiercely loyal shadow.