I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The doors at the end of the private corridor swung open without a sound, revealing the inner sanctum of the Grand Temple.

They were finally meeting the High Priest.

Standing near a high altar framed by sunlight streaming through stained glass, the High Priest turned to greet them. He wore white robes trimmed with silver thread, his face was lined with age but softened by a warm, welcoming expression as he stepped forward, his simple ceremonial shoes making barely a sound against the floor.

”May the light rest gently upon your shoulders,” the High Priest said, his voice deep, resonant, and calm. ”I am truly delighted to see that you both decided to accept my invitation today, and that you brought Lady Marielle along as well.”

Marielle offered a polite smile, bending her knees in a graceful courtly curtsy. But as she straightened back up, she leaned half an inch toward Cherion, her lips barely moving as she whispered under her breath, ”Decided? I was practically dragged here against my will.”

Cherion nudged her arm with his elbow, giving her a sharp, quiet ”Hush” before turning back to face the elderly priest with a broad, respectful smile.

The High Priest gestured for them to follow him into the central nave of the sanctuary. It was a staggering space, far larger and more ornate than the lower chapels. Soaring white pillars reached toward a dome painted with soft blue skies, while crystal braziers warmed the air with a faint, sweet fragrance.

Cherion glanced around, openly impressed by the size and beauty of the sanctuary. ”It really is beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the gold details decorating the arches.

The High Priest chuckled softly, pausing near the base of the altar steps. ”Is it really, Lord Cherion? Tell me... would you like to get married here?”

Cherion choked on his own breath, his head snapping around so fast his neck nearly popped. His face flushed a sudden, brilliant shade of red. ”Ha... haha, what?! Who? Me? A wedding? Who said anything about a wedding?!”

Zarius, who had been standing quietly beside him with his hands resting casually on his sword belt, tilted his head down to look at Cherion. A slow, faint curve touched the corner of Zarius’s mouth.

”You don’t want a wedding?” Zarius asked, the corner of his mouth lifting. ”That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to give you a beautiful one.”

”Akh... you!” Cherion hissed, his throat catching as he glared up at Zarius, his cheeks practically burning. ”Can you not tease me here? We are in the middle of a holy sanctuary!”

The High Priest let out a soft, hearty laugh that echoed pleasantly off the high stone walls, thoroughly amused by the quiet chaos in front of him.

Beside them, however, Marielle’s cheerful front faltered. Hearing the word wedding hit her like a bucket of ice water, dragging her right back to the terrifying reality of Iryna’s betrothal proposal. Her wide smile slipped, her posture stiffened, and her eyes dulled as she stared quietly at the floor.

Cherion caught the sudden shift in Marielle’s energy immediately. The light teasing evaporated, replaced by a quiet, protective instinct.

”Your Holiness,” Cherion said softly, stepping forward to clear his throat. ”If you don’t mind, I would like to stay here for a moment and offer a short prayer.”

Zarius and Marielle both shifted their weight.

”We’ll step outside and wait for you in the courtyard, then,” Zarius said, his voice settling back into its usual calm tone.

Cherion looked at them both, tilting his head slightly. ”Why don’t you two pray as well? The sanctuary is wide enough for all of us.”

”It’s fine,” Marielle said quickly, forcing a tiny, weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ”You go ahead, Cherion. I’ll leave the praying to you. I’m sure the gods won’t notice one missing prayer.”

”Yes, go on,” Zarius added softly. ”We’ll be just beyond the doors.”

Cherion let out a quiet, knowing sigh, offering a small nod. As Zarius turned to walk Marielle toward the high exit, Cherion reached out, lightly grabbing Zarius’s sleeve for a split second. He leaned in close, whispering under his breath, ”Talk to her, okay?”

Zarius glanced back at him, his dark eyes softening just a fraction. ”That was my plan all along,” he whispered back, before turning to walk out with Marielle, his broad shoulder brushing against hers as he guided her out to the sunlit courtyard.

Cherion watched the heavy double doors swing shut behind them. Once the echoing latch clicked into place, he turned back to the altar, kneeling on the velvet cushion set before the holy stone. He closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, letting the heavy, quiet peace of the sanctuary wash over his exhausted mind.

He didn’t pray for miracles or grand victories. He simply asked for the strength to keep his family safe, to navigate the messy political traps of the capital, and to protect the life he was trying so desperately to build alongside Zarius.

A few minutes passed in absolute, uninterrupted silence.

When Cherion finally opened his eyes and stood up, smoothing the front of his coat, he found the High Priest standing a few paces back, waiting quietly with his hands tucked into his long white sleeves.

The light, teasing demeanor the old priest had carried earlier was entirely gone. His wrinkled face looked grave, his pale eyes solemn as he watched Cherion step down from the altar platform.

”Did you finish your prayer, Lord Cherion?” the High Priest asked gently.

”I did,” Cherion replied, offering a polite bow. ”Thank you for allowing us inside.”

The High Priest didn’t move toward the door. Instead, he took another step toward Cherion, his voice and expression turning noticeably more serious.

”Now that you’re here,” the High Priest murmured, his voice dropping into a hushed, serious tone that made the hairs on the back of Cherion’s neck stand up, ”there is something of great importance I need to tell you.”