CHAPTER 60: THE DUKE KNOWS!

The carriage jolted slightly, wheels cutting through the beaten road leading back toward the Capital. Inside, Duke Evan Vortellion lounged lazily, one long leg crossed over the other, his fingers curled around the stem of a half-empty glass of wine. The leather seat creaked as the Duke shifted, dark thoughts rolling behind his narrowed grey eyes.

He had left Rin back at the mansion. Alone. With strict orders to stay put and not step beyond the estate. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the little Omega... well, actually, it was exactly that. He didn’t trust Rin. He didn’t trust his stubborn independence, his mouth that always shot back without thought, or his reckless curiosity. Rin was everything Evan didn’t expect to want in an Omega... and yet, somehow, he had become the only one he did.

A slow smirk curled on Evan’s lips.

"That tiny thing doesn’t even know what he’s doing to me..."

His mind drifted lewdly, picturing Rin... those wide, furious eyes, the defiant little chin, and the way he squirmed when he was flustered. A sinful mixture of beauty and fire. Evan had seen all types of Omegas: those that clung, begged, and offered themselves at the faintest hint of his interest. They were always hungry for power, wealth, attention and also, Alpha with huge Cocks. But not Rin.

No. Rin had dared to push him away. Had dared to say no.

"That only makes him more tempting."

He could still remember the scent Rin gave off in his sleep. It wasn’t strong, but it was there... warm, sweet, and untouched like spring on the edge of bloom. And despite every other pressing matter, Evan found himself aching to return. Not to the estate.

To Rin.

But he had to handle one thing first.

Julian.

The Duke’s eyes narrowed dangerously as his hand tightened around the wine glass. His own son. His own blood had ordered assassins. And for what?

"For a mere Omega," he whispered darkly to himself. "A single boy... who won’t even look his way."

A low growl vibrated from his throat.

He should’ve sent Theron to watch Rin, but Theron was too blunt and professional, which was good. But he knows that the moment he would scent Rin’s upcoming heat, his ’professionalism’ would vanish like smoke. Silas was better, quiet, calculating, and obedient. At least, for now.

Remembering the way Silas was leaning towards Rin like he wanted to devour him at that spot, made something inside the Duke want to rip Silas to shreds, but he remembered the kind of man Silas was. Someone who hates filth. Dirt and also... Anything demonic. He wouldn’t wish to lay a hand on someone like Rin who has something to do with demons.

Whether it’s true or not. He doesn’t care..

Silas was the best person to leave behind as Rin’s new housemate. But, he can’t fully trust him. He wanted his journey to be over so he could return before Rin’s heat began.

He couldn’t wait to sniff that sweet scent again till his pants got tight.

Evan shifted forward and pulled out a glowing scroll from the leather pouch beside him. It shimmered with magical runes that pulsed faintly.

"To hell with this long ride," he muttered.

He crushed the scroll between his fingers. In a flash of blue light, the world twisted.

....

The scent of fresh pine hit him instantly as he opened his eyes.

He stood on the main path leading to the massive estate gates of House Vortellion. Majestic, looming, and spread wide across several acres of manicured gardens, forest wings, and architectural wings for each family member.

The Eastern Wing belonged to both his sons.

The Southern Wing was his.

The Western was reserved for the Duchess, though she hadn’t lived there in years. Because she left the estate after giving birth to the twins.

And then, hidden in the depths of the forest to the north... the dark wing. The underground domain.

That was where he kept his toys.

Omegas bought from criminal trades. Those who had committed crimes. Those who had nowhere else to go. The broken ones, beautiful in their silence and their pain. That secret wing was the true heart of the Vortellion mansion... where ’Games’ were played, and loyalty was bought through pleasure, torment, and chains.

Evan smirked.

So caught in his own thoughts, he barely noticed the tall man waiting at the end of the path until he heard his name.

"Your Grace."

Evan turned. His personal butler and right-hand, Lioran, stood waiting, composed and silent.

"You’re back earlier than expected, Your Grace," Lioran said with a bow. "But a message from the royal palace arrived moments before your return. The King has summoned you. Urgently."

Evan’s smile dropped.

"Now?"

"Immediately."

He cursed under his breath as his hand unfastened the button closest to his neck.

"Prepare the second carriage. I’ll leave now."

"But, sir..."

"Also," Evan added, his voice like a knife, "Tell the kitchen to prepare a formal dinner. My son will dine with me tonight."

Lioran bowed low. "Yes, Your Grace."

Without entering the manor, Evan turned around and got into the second carriage.

The ride to the palace was shorter than expected... it was just an hour at most. The guards didn’t question him or stop him when they saw the Vortellion insignia on the carriage. Everyone knew who he was and they feared him.

The King’s most loyal man.

And also... the man who could destroy the throne in a single breath.

He was announced before he entered, but Evan didn’t wait. He pushed through the throne room doors and found the King seated high, his Queen beside him. The Queen... a beautiful Beta with intelligent eyes... smiled politely. But Evan could see the tension behind her gaze.

"Duke Vortellion," the King rose with open arms. "You came quickly. I apologise for calling on such short notice."

"You are the King," Evan said, bowing slightly. "You need not apologise."

The King smiled.

"You always say that."

"Because it’s always true."

The king just laughed nervously. Even if he was used to the Duke’s short responses, it still got him even more nervous.

The Queen sipped her tea quietly beside him.

The King walked down from his throne and stood in front of Evan.

"I’ll get to the point. My birthday ceremony is in two months. And at that time, I will announce the Crown Prince. The future heir,"

Evan didn’t move.

"I assumed as much."

"And I want you to be present for the final decision, during the final meeting with the council,"

Evan raised a brow, finally looking at the king.

"It seems that you have already chosen the one,"

The King nodded with a pleasant smile on his face.

"My eldest. He is strong. Brilliant. Educated. And was already loved by the people. But... I cannot announce it without the support of my council. Or more importantly, you."

"You want me to approve?"

"No. I want you to publicly approve."

Evan said nothing. He wished he could leave this place already. Watching Rin sleep was better than discussing with the King.

The King smiled faintly as his voice pulled Evan from his thoughts.

"I am very aware that you have the power to replace me with a commoner. But you’ve never abused it, Duke."

"I’ve never needed to," Evan said. "Your reign has never bored me."

The Queen shifted slightly. Her eyes flicked to Evan.

Of course, she didn’t want the first prince crowned. Her own son, the second prince, was younger, talented... He was easier to approach but his own problem was his playfulness and hot temper.

But the Duke didn’t care about their family squabbles.

He cared about one thing.

Power.

He enjoyed the way the king begged him to attend the meeting like he needed his help. Well, he really did need it.

"I will attend the meeting," Evan said at last. "And I will give you my voice."

The King looked relieved.

"Thank you, old friend."

Evan bowed again.

"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner and my son... waiting."

He turned sharply and walked out.

He didn’t need to hear the Queen’s quiet sigh. Nor did he care.

He was heading straight home because the time had come to speak to his own son.

Julian Vortellion.

The boy who had dared to hire assassins behind his back. The boy who thought he could play the same political game as his father.

Evan’s face darkened as he stepped out into the palace courtyard. When he got back to the manor, dusk was setting.

The estate was glowing with street lamps, but Evan saw nothing but red.

He has no idea why he wanted to punish his son badly for what he did. He wanted to pull out Julian’s tongue for asking Rin to be removed from the academy, using the Vortellion name without the Head’s permission. He had overlooked that since it was a minor problem. Of course, Julian could use the Vortellion name since he was the heir.

However, the feeling came again.

He wanted to break his fingers for writing letters to those elite assassins. He wanted to drown his own son in his own blood for trying to harm what was his.

Because Rin Elric was his.

’His? Since when did Rin become his?’

He didn’t know when it happened or how it started.

Maybe it was the way Rin talked back without showing respect to the Duke. Maybe it was how he refused to beg. Maybe it was how he looked at Evan like he was just another man instead of the monster nobles feared.

But it didn’t matter.

What mattered now... was claiming him.

Not for politics. Not for his ’Game’.

But for himself. Himself alone.

And if Julian tried to stop that again...

He would kill him.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the manor.

The lamps flickered as Evan stepped out, boots hitting the stone path with finality. The air was cold. Fresh. Still.

He walked through the entrance and smiled darkly, seeing Lioran waiting by the door.

"Welcome back, Your Grace," he bowed. "Dinner has been served,"

"Alright," he gave his usual short response, that smile never leaving his face.

Dinner would be... interesting.

Because he was going to sit across the table from his son and finally ask:

"How long do you think you can fake your secondary gender, boy?"