I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Cherion sat squarely on Zarius’s lap, his hands planted firmly against the dark, heavy fabric of the Duke’s tunic. He leaned closer, bringing his face within inches of Zarius’s, their noses nearly brushing as he held Zarius’s startled gaze.

”Listen to me very carefully,” Cherion said, his voice suddenly turning so serious that arguing with him felt like a terrible idea. ”The person who was hopelessly obsessed with Yerel was Cherion Antel. That guy is gone. He isn’t here anymore. The person sitting on top of you right now is Cherion Hale. And Cherion Hale doesn’t give a single damn about Yerel Ignivar.”

A faint, lingering trace of hesitation remained in the depths of Zarius’s eyes, though his broad hands naturally rose to rest against the sides of Cherion’s waist, holding his frame steady atop his lap.

”Cherion Hale is completely, helplessly, madly crazy about you,” Cherion added, his voice softening just a fraction, a sudden warm flush rising up his neck to the tips of his ears. ”Do you understand what I’m saying? I never looked at Yerel, I will never look at Yerel, and if that royal golden boy comes anywhere near me, I’m far more likely to kick him straight into a muddy ditch than ever return to his side. Yeah, I haven’t done that even once when I’ve met him so far. But if he crosses the line at the exact moment I’m in a horrible mood and can’t think straight... honestly, it might happen.”

Zarius slowly smiled, and the rare softness of it completely changed his face. Cherion’s chest gave an embarrassing little squeeze.

”I understand,” Zarius murmured, his low voice vibrating right through Cherion’s legs. ”Cherion Hale.”

Cherion let out a quiet, shuddering sigh of relief, slumping slightly against Zarius’s chest. But as he stared down at Zarius’s handsome, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and deep, red eyes, a sudden, unexpected thought crossed his mind. The cozy warmth in his chest turned slightly cold with a brand-new, unspoken insecurity.

”Actually...” Cherion muttered, his brows knitting together as he pulled back slightly, looking down at his own dusty hands. ”Now that I think about it... maybe I’m the one who should be worried.”

Zarius raised an eyebrow, his large hands tightening slightly on Cherion’s hips, anchoring him in place. ”Worried about what?”

”About this,” Cherion said, gesturing vaguely to his own face, chest, and silver hair. ”This face, this body, this everything, it all belongs to Cherion Antel. I’m just a soul from another world living inside his shell. What if my real body suddenly appeared in front of you? I didn’t look like this back in my old world, Zarius. I didn’t have soft noble skin, striking features, or elegant hair. I was completely ordinary. What if you saw what I actually look like and realized you don’t even like the real me?”

The worry sounded a little absurd coming out of his mouth in the quiet warmth of their bedroom, but the fear was undeniably real. He had fallen head over heels in love with Zarius while living inside someone else’s skin, and the thought of Zarius loving an aesthetic wrapper rather than his actual soul made Cherion’s throat feel tight.

Zarius didn’t laugh. He didn’t dismiss the thought, nor did he tease him about being dramatic. Instead, his expression turned deeply, profoundly gentle, filled with an unshakeable sincerity that made Cherion’s heart skip a beat.

He slid his hands up from Cherion’s waist, cupping both sides of Cherion’s dusty face in his broad, warm palms. His thumb brushed softly over Cherion’s cheekbone, tilting his head back up until their eyes met directly.

”Cherion Antel was a man who secluded himself in his room, cared for little beyond Yerel, and repeatedly committed deeds he knew to be wrong,” Zarius said softly, his voice echoing with absolute conviction. ”He possessed no sharp wit, no ridiculous words that make no sense, no fiery bravery, and no light in his eyes that could pull me out of the dark. Cherion Antel could never make me fall for him.”

Zarius leaned up slightly, pressing his forehead firmly against Cherion’s, letting their shared warmth fuse together in the quiet room. ”I do not care what shape your soul carried in your previous life, or what face you wore in that distant world. The man who stood up to the northern nobles, the man who saved my life from a deadly curse, the man who argued with me in the middle of a blizzard, and the man sitting on my lap right now is you. It was always you, Cherion Hale.”

Cherion swallowed hard, his eyes stinging as a sudden rush of emotion overcame him. He blinked rapidly, fighting back the sudden sting behind his eyelids. The final lingering doubt in his heart evaporated completely, leaving behind a deep, grounding comfort that made his breathing shallow and quick.

”You really know how to talk, don’t you?” Cherion whispered, a soft, breathless smile breaking across his lips despite his flushed cheeks.

”I only speak the truth,” Zarius replied smoothly, his thumbs tracing slow circles over Cherion’s warm cheeks. He shifted slightly beneath Cherion’s weight, his gaze growing more intent as a sudden shiver ran down Cherion’s spine. ”Now tell me... has your worry eased, or must I find some other way to rid you of whatever remains?”

Cherion smirked, the heavy emotional lifting of the last few hours finally giving way to a sudden, playful hunger. He leaned down, pressing his lips against the corner of Zarius’s mouth, whispering against his warm skin.

”Give me your everything,” Cherion murmured, his hands sliding down Zarius’s broad chest to tug at the hem of his dark tunic. ”Leave absolutely nothing behind.”

Zarius let out a low, gravelly chuckle against Cherion’s neck, his Alpha aura flaring softly throughout the room, not with anger or threat, but with a warm, heavy, possessive heat that wrapped completely around Cherion’s senses.

”I have never withheld a single part of myself from you,” Zarius murmured, his hands moving with quiet certainty as he reached for the silver fastenings of Cherion’s trousers. ”And I certainly do not intend to start now.”