THE WEIGHT OF INDIFFERENCE

(Kael's POV)

The morning routine felt like a cruel parody of normalcy. The cold water shocked me awake, but not enough to numb the ache that throbbed in my chest. Every movement was a conscious effort, a fight against the leaden weight of despair. I scrubbed my skin raw, trying to wash away the phantom sensation of Alaric's touch, the memory of his eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and disgust.

After bathing, I reached for the scent blockers. I usually applied a few layer, enough to mask my true nature from casual encounters. Today, though, I was desperate. I layered it on thick, the artificial pine scent stinging my nostrils, almost suffocating me. Good. Let it suffocate me a little. Anything was better than the prince having to endure… me.

His words echoed in my head, a brutal mantra: "Never, ever, let me smell that scent near me again."

Tears welled up, hot and unwelcome. I let them flow. I needed to get it all out now, every last drop of sorrow, so I could face the day with a blank mask. A mask of a Beta, nothing more.

The palace was a glittering cage, each hallway a reminder of my gilded servitude. Every step I took felt like walking on shards of glass. I focused on the tasks at hand: delivering messages, polishing Alaric's desk, ensuring his schedule was adhered to with meticulous precision. Each action was a shield, a way to avoid thinking, to avoid feeling.

Alaric was a storm cloud, a dark presence that loomed over everything. He barely acknowledged me, his gaze cold and distant. When he did speak, his words were curt and clipped, devoid of any warmth.

"The reports from the border provinces, Kael," he'd snap, not even bothering to meet my eyes.

"Immediately, Your Highness," I’d reply, my voice carefully neutral, and hurry to retrieve the requested documents.

It was during lunch that the first crack appeared in my carefully constructed facade. I was arranging his meal when he suddenly spoke, his voice sharper than usual.

"You seem… subdued today, Kael."

My hands trembled, almost dropping the silver cutlery. "Just a slight headache, Your Highness," I managed to stammer, forcing a smile that felt brittle and fake.

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "See that you rest when your duties are completed."

It wasn't a concern. It was a command. A reminder of my place. I bowed my head and retreated, the weight of his gaze pressing down on me. The food on his plate seemed to mock me, a symbol of the chasm that separated us; my goodness everything around feels like they're separating us, and now I feel like I'm seeing things that are not even there. I blame my Omega for longing that what could never be mine.

The afternoon was a blur of mundane tasks and agonizing silences. I was a ghost in his presence, a shadow flitting around the edges of his life. Each interaction was a painful reminder of what could never be, of the bond that he actively rejected.

I was dismissed later than usual. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and angry orange when I finally left Alaric's study. I practically ran, my feet carrying me towards the lower quarters where I longed to be.

My mother's room was small and sparsely furnished, but it was my sanctuary. The familiar scent of lavender, honey and old books always brought a sense of calm. But tonight, the room was empty. Panic seized me. Where was she?

I burst out of the room and into the gardens. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine. I scanned the familiar paths, my heart pounding in my chest. And then I saw her.

She was sitting on a stone bench beneath the ancient oak tree, her frail form hunched over. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders like a waterfall.

"Mother!" I cried, rushing towards her.

She looked up, her eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own. The moment our eyes met and I truly saw her again, something inside me shattered. The carefully constructed dam of composure broke, and the pent-up tears, the pain, the despair, all came flooding out in a torrent.

I fell to my knees at her feet, burying my face in her lap. "Mom," I sobbed, my voice choking with emotion. "Oh, Mom…"

She wrapped her arms around me, her touch gentle and soothing. "My Kael," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My sweet Kael."

I clung to her, needing her warmth, her love, her understanding. I couldn't speak, couldn't articulate the swirling chaos within me. The sobs wracked my body, each one tearing another piece of my heart away.

She held me close, stroking my hair, letting me cry. She understood. She always understood.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the storm began to subside. My sobs lessened, replaced by ragged breaths and stifled whimpers. I pulled away slightly, wiping my face with the back of my hand, my eyes swollen and red.

"I… I'm sorry, Mother," I whispered, ashamed of my outburst.

She cupped my face in her hands, her thumbs gently wiping away the lingering tears. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love," she said softly. "You have every right to grieve."

"But… but I can't tell you why," I choked out, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

She didn't press. She just held my gaze, her eyes filled with a knowing that pierced through my carefully guarded secrets.

"Yes, you can," she insisted, her voice firm but gentle. "Whatever it is, Kael, you can tell me."

The dam broke again. The words spilled out of me in a rush, a confession I could no longer contain.

"I'm his mate, Mother," I blurted out, the words hanging in the air like a death knell. "I'm Prince Alaric's fated mate."

The silence that followed was deafening. I watched her face, searching for any sign of shock, of disbelief, of disgust.

Instead, I saw… acceptance. Sadness, yes, but also a deep, unwavering love.

Tears welled up in her own eyes. She pulled me close again, her embrace even tighter than before.

"Oh, Kael," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "My brave boy."

"He doesn't want me, Mother," I sobbed, the pain raw and fresh. "He hates it. He hates me."

She held me tighter. "Shhh," she whispered. "Don't say that. He doesn't hate you. He's just… afraid."

"Afraid?" I repeated, confused. "Why would he be afraid?"

She sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "Because you threaten everything he believes in, everything he's been taught. You challenge the very fabric of his world."

"But… it's not my fault we're fated…"

"Fate is a powerful force, Kael," she interrupted gently. "But it's not always easy. It often puts us on paths we never expected, faced with choices we never wanted to make."

I buried my face in her shoulder again, the weight of the world crushing me. What was I supposed to do? How could I navigate this impossible situation? He clearly doesn't want me but how could I possibly let him go?

"What am I going to do, Mother?" I asked, my voice muffled.

She held me close, her hand stroking my hair. "You're going to be strong, Kael," she said, her voice filled with a quiet strength that always amazed me. "You're going to survive. And you're going to fight for your happiness. I'm here, always with you and I promise to make sure you lead a happy life… everytime you feel like no one loves you, remember your mother does, I do love you Kael. You're the one good twist in my fate."

Her words gave me a flicker of hope, a tiny spark in the darkness. But the path ahead was still shrouded in uncertainty, fraught with danger and heartbreak. And as I sat there, cradled in my mother's arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of a battle that would test me in ways I never thought possible… but I have my mother and for her, I'd try not to hurt myself.