alpha · king · abo · possessive · dominant · fantasy · hunter · ruthless · royal
The colosseum roared, a beast of stone and sound. Thousands packed the tiers, their voices a primal crash. Alpha pheromones hung thick in the night air. Below, the hunt churned through ruins and forests. Most omegas had fallen, dragged out to applause. But one shadow danced above the chaos, vaulting pillars, mocking pursuers. High on the obsidian throne, King Alaric watched. His amber eyes tracked the elusive prey with predatory calm. The omega taunted an alpha, sending him tumbling down stairs. Alaric’s rings tapped the armrest—interest, not anger. Then, the omega looked up. Directly at the throne. And flipped him off. The arena gasped. Guards tensed. Alaric didn’t blink. He smiled, cold and sharp. “Find me their number,” he whispered, rising as the omega fled.