Claimed By A Midnight King

Vivian's pov The sun clan didn't bleed; they burned. Or at least that was what the elders said. But as I scrubbed the kitchen floor tiles that refused to budge, my hands told a different story. They were raw, and very much bleeding. I watched the thin lines of red swirl into the cloudy water for a second… then disappear. I felt nothing about it. So maybe they were wrong. Or maybe I was never a sun clan to begin with. The brush scraped again. And again. The same spot, each stroke following the same rhythm. “Move it, stupid weakling!”. A cook snapped, kicking my bucket as she hauled a tray of roasted chicken toward the Great Hall. The dirty bucket water splashed over my skin, soaking my boots. “The Alpha-prince doesn’t want to see a dusty Omega when he comes down for the pre-ceremony tasting”. I quickly lowered my head. “I’m sorry ma'am” I whispered. Though it still stung. Just a little. Arguments required energy I didn’t even have, and weakling was a name I’d answered to since I was seven. At twenty-one, I was the weakest in the entire clan. I hadn't even shifted before. To them I wasn't just a weakling Omega; I was the daughter of a Gamma traitor. Gammas were supposed to be the pack's unbreakable shield. But twelve years ago, my father, a gamma general, went to the Northern border and caused a m******e, killing so many Shadow Clan wolves, including the Royal bloods. His crime broke an old treaty and it unleashed a curse upon our land—a rot that withered the crops and kept the sun from ever reaching its peak. And as his only bloodline, the elders believed I carried that same curse in my veins. I became the helper. The girl who polished the silver she’d never eat from and swept the floor she’d never dance on. “Still at it, Viv?’’ The voice was like a sudden burst of warmth. I didn't need to look up to recognise his smell—the smell of expensive cedar and cologne. It was Damain. He didn't belong in the kitchen. He was the Sun’s favourite son, the Alpha-heir whose skin seemed to catch the light even in the darkest room. He leaned against the stone archway, his golden hair that made every girl in the citadel skip breaths. The head cook dropped into a deep shaking bow. “Alpha Damian! We didn’t expect—“ “Leave us “, Damian said, his voice quiet but final. The kitchen cook cleared in seconds. I stayed on my knees, my wet hands trembling against the wooden brush. “You’re still working”, he whispered. “The feast won't cook itself, Damain”, I said, my voice dry from the ash. I sat back on my heels, wiping a dark stain on my forehead. ‘’And the elders don't like it when you're seen down here with the help”. Damian stepped into the heat of the kitchen; he sat in the soot beside me, not caring for his white tunic. He reached out, his thumb brushing a streak of dirt from my cheek. His touch was warm, too warm; I almost pulled back. It had always been this way between us since we were fifteen. I vividly recall the night I sought refuge in the lunar gardens, nursing a wound from a stone one of the guards had thrown at my head. It was Damian who discovered me there. Rather than report me for breaking the rules and being outside my quarters, he took off a piece of his royal silk shirt to bandage my injury. "They fear the dark, Vivian," he whispered that night as he concealed me in the shadows cast by the statues. "But I don't." For three long years, those midnight meetings in the gardens—filled with stolen touches and hushed promises of change once he became King—had become my sole lifeline within a citadel that seemed intent on extinguishing my spirit. He was the only one who looked at me and saw not a curse but simply a girl. “Tonight is the Blood Moon, my love’’, he whispered, his eyes searching mine. “Today is the choosing.” My heart did a slow, painful roll in my chest. ‘’ I know’’. “Everyone expects me to claim Sofia”, he said, his voice dropping to a low vibration. “Her lineage is pure. Her father is the high commander. It makes sense according to them”. He took my finger and interlaced it with his. For a second, the crushing weight of being an omega and outcast vanished. But his hand felt …tighter than usual. “But I don't want on papers’’, Damain said, leaning closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He reached beneath his tunic and pulled out a heavy object wrapped in dark velvet, pressing it firmly into my chest. “I need you to keep this safe for me”. I looked down at the object. It was heavy, humming with a faint energy. “What is it?” “Proof that I choose you”, he whispered, kissing my forehead. “Keep it hidden. When the midnight bells chime and the pack is distracted by the feast, bring it to the Whispering fall. We’ll cross the border together. We’ll leave all of this behind and start a new life together ”. He squeezed my hand, flashed a sweet smile I had always loved before vanishing back into the light of the upper halls. I spent the next hour in a daze, my heart hammering against my chest. We’ll leave all of this behind. The words echoed in my mind. I hid the velvet bundle beneath the loose floorboards of my tiny quarters, terrified to even peek at what was inside. Before the sun fully set, Sofia found me. She was in a chemist’s apron, her hands stained with the juices of bitter herbs. “Time for your medicine, Vivi”, she said, her voice like honey poured over glass. She held out a small, pewter cup filled with a thick blue tonic. I hesitated; I hated the tonic. Every time I drank it, my head felt like it was filled with wool, and a strange weight settled over my chest. “I feel fine today, Sofia. I don’t think I need it”. Sofia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She grabbed my jaw, her fingers digging into the bone. “Don’t be difficult. Your Void status is a sickness, remember without this your blood becomes unstable”. She forced the cups to my lips. I swallowed, the bitter taste coating my tongue. “There”, she whispered, patting my cheek. “Now stay out of sight tonight. The prince doesn’t need to look at a low rat while he claims his mate”. I waited in the dark of my room for hours, fighting the heavy exhaustion the tunic always brought. When the midnight bells finally rang out across the citadel, signalling the start of the blood moon feast. I pulled the velvet bundle from the floorboards, clutched it to my chest, and slipped into the freezing night. The courtyards were completely empty. Everyone was in the Great Hall. I stuck to the shadows, my bare feet commonly numb against the frost—covered grass as I rushed toward the tree line leading to the Whispering Falls. He’s waiting for me. He’s finally going to set me free. I was ten feet away from the edge of the forest when the courtyard suddenly erupted in blinding light. Torches flared from the battlements. The heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall banged open, and a dozen Solari guards swarmed out, weapons drawn. “Halt!” I froze, the blood draining from my face. I was surrounded in seconds. The High Commander—Sofia’s father stepped through the ranks of guards, his eyes locked unto mine with pure hatred. “There she is”, he snarked, pointing a thick finger at my chest. “Sneaking off to the Dead zone in the dead of the night”. One of the guards seized my arm, pulling me forward with force. The velvet bundle slipped from my fingers and fell to the cobblestone. The dark fabric fell away. My breath stopped completely. There, resting on the floor, lay the Aphas king sacred Sunstone—the most protected relic within the entire citadel. “A thief”, a guard spat out, driving his knees into the back of my legs and forcing me to the ground. “The traitors daughter strikes, trying to steal our light?” “No!!” I panicked, my head spinning violently from the tunic. “No, wait!! Damian gave it to me! He told me to meet him—“ Before the words fully left my mouth, the butt of a spear collided with the side of my head, and my vision turned black.