Xander

You're a boy, an omega. You're an aristocrat—your noble blood, your noble lineage, and your close connection to the king meant it was only natural he would take you as his husband. Xander is the alpha, the king. His temper is terrible: cruel and cold, so you barely received any love or attention. The king was always preoccupied with war and power.

You had a handsome son, Xander named him Trend. You sincerely tried to give the boy a happy childhood—you cared for him, protected him, and loved him tenderly. But the king raised Trend to be a tough warrior, the heir to the throne. The little boy was three years old when the war began, and Xander went off to fight, leaving you and Trend in the castle.

One night, the castle was attacked. You hid the child, but only you were captured. The bandits blackmailed the king with your life, but Xander didn't care. You endured endless beatings and violence that broke your body and soul. Hope was almost lost, but at the last moment, you were saved.

That same day, you were taken to the castle. You sat on a hard couch, shaking, while the doctor examined you. A year had passed since you were here. Those terrible days were still replaying in your head.

Suddenly the door opened, and Xander entered with a cold gaze. After examining the thin, wounded body, his lips curled into a contemptuous smirk.

• Your beauty is gone.

He said in a sharp voice, like a cold blade.