Crown of Chains

by White_Rose0612

Summary:

He chose mortality over monarchy. He chose touch over the throne.

Prince Huangxing of Solis has one duty: become the strongest Alpha King in history. That means one thing, cut the red string tied to his soul before coronation. Because bonded Alphas become mortal. And mortal kings don't live long enough to rule.

King Qiudingjie of Nocthys has one rule: touch = death. He's ruled the Veil for nine years in armor and lies, hiding the Omega scent that would get him executed. If Solis learns an Omega sits on a throne, they'll burn his city to ash.

The Law is clear.
Alphas don't bond.
Omegas don't rule.
Strings don't cross enemy lines.

Then they meet on a bridge.

Ten feet apart. Strings visible. Glowing gold.

Huangxing steps forward.
And throws away two hundred years of life.
For one touch.

Now he's mortal. Crownless. Hunted.
Qiudingjie is exposed. Bleeding. Fated.

And High Priest Varian will start a war to cut the string himself.
Because the prophecy says: "When Sun kneels to Moon, the Divide will end."

And Varian would rather see the world burn than let the Divide close.

The Law says: Bond or War.
They choose both.

Chapter 1

THE CUTTING

 

Sixty years ago.

The Temple of Light.

High Priest Varian was twenty.

He was kneeling.

The string on his pinky was red. New. Terrified. It led across the temple floor to a healer with soft hands and a smile that didn't belong in wartime.

Beta.

His.

"Cut it," the old High Priest said. The knife was in his hand. Sun-forged. Holy. "Bonded Alphas become mortal, boy. Mortal kings don't win wars. Cut it, or Solis falls."

Varian looked at the healer.

In the future.

At eighty years instead of two hundred.

At a grave instead of a throne.

He took the knife.

And cut.

The healer screamed.

Not from pain.

From loss.

The string didn't bleed.

Varian did.

 

Sixty years later, he still felt the ghost of it. A scar on his hand. A scar on his soul.

And when he looked at Prince Huangxing, twenty-three, kneeling, string glowing gold, refusing the blade....

Varian didn't see a traitor.

He saw himself.

Before he made the wrong choice.

"Cut it," Varian said to Huangxing. Not an order. A plea. "Please. I've been on my knees. Don't make my mistake."

Huangxing looked at the string.

At the boy on the other end.

Enemy. Omega. Fated.

And stood up.

"I'm not you," Huangxing said.

He walked out of the Temple.

And didn't look back.

Varian watched him go.