Chapter 5 Eyes That See Too Much
Lyanna
The wagon groaned as it rolled over uneven stone, each jolt sending a shiver up my spine. Cold air knifed through the wooden slats, sharper than anything I’d ever felt in the riverlands. Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet, but already the capital—Drakovia’s infamous stone heart—was awake.
Not warm and bustling awake.
Cold.
The streets stretched in corridors of severe grey stone, buildings rising like cliffs on either side. No curved roofs.
No loud market chatter. No soft edges. Everything was built to intimidate: squared arches, iron-forged windows, towers climbing into the fog like spears poised for war.
Even the light looked thinner here, as though the sun had to filter through Drakovian cruelty before reaching the ground.
I drew my threadbare clothes tighter, trying to ignore the stares thrown at the wagon filled with bound Aelorian omegas.
Anti-omega decrees plastered every wall, layers of parchment curling at the corners:
OMEGAS MAY NOT WALK UNACCOMPANIED.
OMEGAS MUST KNEEL DURING ALPHA PASSAGE.
ANY NONCOMPLIANCE WILL BE PUNISHED BY LAW.
There were more, but I refused to read further.
Omegas dotted the streets—nothing like my people. These moved with hunched shoulders and quick, fearful steps. Some were forced to their knees as groups of armoured alphas strode past, soldiers not sparing them a second glance.
But some… were dressed in luxury.
Silk veils draped over their faces like spiderwebs glittering in frost. They walked behind alphas wearing fur-lined cloaks and polished weapons. These omegas moved silently, gracefully, as though any misstep might cost them dearly.
My throat tightened, my heartbeat thudding against the quiet cage of my silence.
I was still Lyanna of Aeloria.
Still Rubin’s wife in every pulse of my heart.
Still carrying his mark like prayer beads wrapped around my soul.
But Drakovia did not care.
A shout cracked across the street.
A tiny omega—barely a woman—had stumbled while kneeling. A guard struck her across the cheek with the back of his spear.
“Head down!”
Blood dripped from her chin. She hadn’t even stood—only wobbled.
My stomach twisted.
One wrong move here and they punished as though given divine permission.
The wagon rolled past the kneeling girl.
For a single heartbeat, brown eyes—bright, desperate—lifted and met mine.
A mistake.
A guard spotted the glance. He barked a curse, storming toward the wagon.
My head dropped instantly, chin tucked, eyes angled down the way I’d practised.
The guard spat at me. The warm glob hit my cheek before chilling into a smear.
“Aelorian filth. Lower your eyes.”
I flinched but kept my face empty, my heart a trapped bird rattling inside my ribs.
The wagon lurched forward again, dragging us deeper into the capital. The air smelled heavily of iron, smoke, and cold metal.
Finally, we reached the sorting courtyard.
High walls towered around us. Soldiers ringed the perimeter. A raised platform held officials who scribbled on parchment, assessing omegas like livestock once again.
We were dragged off one by one, shoved into narrow iron cages lining the courtyard like feed stalls. My feet barely felt the ground. My body moved only because it remembered how.
My cheek still burned.
My bones still ached.
My hope—Rubin—felt stretched so thin it was about to tear.
I stumbled into my cage. The gate slammed shut behind me, the metallic clang echoing like the lid of a coffin.
“Come here, quiet one.”
The voice cut through my haze.
I turned before I could stop myself.
And froze.
Marek stood near the line of cages, hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. His armour was dull with wear. His shoulders slumped beneath exhaustion carved into every line of his face.
He’d called out to me and I had answered him. Instinctively. Stupidly.
My breath stuttered.
I snapped my head away, panic storming through my veins.
He knows.
He saw.
He’ll tell them.
They’ll punish you for lying.
Rubin will never find your body—
My hands trembled. I shoved them beneath my thighs to force them still.
Marek stepped closer, quiet and deliberate.
He leaned in, lowering his voice so only I could hear.
“I know you can hear me.”
My pulse lurched painfully.
I kept my gaze blank, eyes unfocused. I tried to sink back into the mask I’d worn for days, but fear thrummed too loud.
If he shouted—if he pointed—if he even turned—
I was finished.
Marek exhaled—not victorious. Not cruel. Just tired.
He stood by my side.
“There’s no need to pretend.”
My mind spun. Say nothing. Don’t breathe. Don’t let him strip away your one protection.
But he kept speaking, his voice low, bitter with something worn and human.
“When I first joined the service,” he murmured, “I thought it was an honour. Duty. Protecting our borders.”
His fingers brushed the bars—softly, as though touching old guilt.
“But this…” His gaze swept the cages, the trembling omegas, the blood on stone. “…this is rot. This place eats people from the inside.”
A tremor rippled through me.
For the first time since I’d been captured, someone looked at me—not like livestock, not like a commodity, not like an enemy omega.
But like a person.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to cry.
To scream.
To beg Rubin to appear out of the fog and take me home.
Instead, I sat motionless, silent, pretending to be a deaf girl with no name.
Rubin felt farther away than ever.
Marek watched me for a long moment. Then:
“Keep pretending,” he whispered. “They like breaking the loud ones.”
A shaky breath escaped me.
He pushed a small cloth bundle through the bars—hard bread, a smear of cheese, a single boiled potato.
Food.
I hadn’t eaten since dawn the previous day.
My fingers trembled as I took it.
“You won’t escape here,” he murmured. “But you can survive. Find a wealthy alpha. Bear him a son. Trophy wives are ignored.” A swallow. “It’s the closest thing to peace you’ll find.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
Footsteps approached—sharp, brisk.
A Drakovian alpha woman appeared, slate-grey uniform immaculate, expression carved in stone. She grabbed my wrists, lifting my hands to inspect muscle and tremor.
Marek disappeared into the shadows.
I couldn’t stop the shaking.
The woman released me without comment and moved on.
I didn’t know if that meant anything at all.
A soft tap sounded behind me.
I turned slightly.
Sera slipped into the space adjacent to the cage and leaned toward me.
She didn’t speak. She used her hands. She probably didn’t want anyone seeing her talk and thinking I could hear.
Stay low.
Don’t look alphas in the eye.
Eat slowly. Don’t attract attention.
I nodded once, subtle.
Sera’s eyes flickered with approval.
The courtyard moved in its cruel rhythm—sorting, shoving, and dragging terrified omegas toward iron pens. Commands barked. Wind knifed through the gaps in the cages.
Then everything stilled.
Not silence.
A freezing pause, as if the entire courtyard held its breath.
Two horns thundered across the stone.
Soldiers straightened at once. Officials snapped to attention.
My spine locked.
Now what?
Sera’s fingers fluttered against the bars—sharp, quick.
Danger.
Heavy boots sounded before the man appeared. A small formation of soldiers strode in first, disciplined and tense, but it was the one walking ahead who carved the air around him.
He wasn’t the largest.
He didn’t need to be.
Power moved with him.
Blackened steel armour glinted with golden three headed beast curling along the plates. A fur-lined cloak swept behind him like a shadow stretching too long.
The crowd parted instinctively.
My lungs froze.
He stopped in the courtyard’s centre. His gaze swept the cages—and when those silver eyes landed on me, I felt stripped bare.
As if he could see past dirt and silence and trembling straight to my fear.
Then he looked away and spoke to the officers.
The air buzzed with dread.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to keep from making a sound.
Whoever he was…
Whatever his presence meant…
Drakovia had me now.
And it was only going to get worse.