The Marked Promise - Chapter 1

The world felt like a fleeting dream.

Rosechene woke with a gasp, as though clawing her way out of a nightmare where everything had vanished in an instant—like a flower that blooms brilliantly only to wither in the blink of an eye.

“Haah… Huff…”

Her breaths came ragged and shallow, her body trembling from the pain that felt as though it was tearing her heart apart. A desperate, overwhelming longing surged within her. She reached out aimlessly, writhing, as if trying to grasp the elusive pheromones of the alpha she was imprinted on.

Conflicting emotions warred inside her: the fierce desire to break free of the imprint, and the agonizing urge to offer every last breath to the man who was her alpha.

“…Your Grace,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling. It brought to mind her mother’s distant praise when she was young, calling her voice sweet and lovely.

How had it come to this?

Placing a hand over her chest, Rosechene steadied her breathing, each inhale slow and deliberate. The frantic rhythm of her heart gradually subsided, and the sharp edge of her pain dulled.

She suddenly felt a pang of pity for herself, enduring such torment alone with no one to witness it. She hadn’t confessed her feelings in hopes of some grand reward. All she had wanted was to be allowed to stay by his side—not to be cast away like this.

That was all. A simple, heartfelt wish.

“I just wanted to be your omega…” she murmured bitterly.

But the price of that wish was unbearably cruel.

She thought back to the day she confessed. The sky had been an impossibly vivid blue, so clear and bright it seemed almost unreal. It reminded her of his eyes—those deep, azure depths that had captivated her so many times before. She’d been lost in the sight of the endless, cloudless sky when he appeared, as if summoned by fate.

His eyes, mirroring the vast heavens, had ensnared her once again. Without realizing it, the words spilled from her lips.
I’ve imprinted on you.

I love you.

Her confession was pure, a reflection of everything she felt.
But in the stillness that followed, even the breeze seemed to freeze. Then she saw it—the unmistakable disdain etched across his perfect face.

For the first time, his cold, indifferent expression cracked, and his disdain was as sharp as a blade. Her heart dropped, and his overpowering pheromones pressed down on her like a suffocating weight.

“Who gave you permission to imprint on me?”

His voice was cold and cutting, his words slicing through her defenses. She couldn’t bear the withering intensity of his gaze and lowered her head in shame.

She had been so foolish, deluding herself into thinking there was any trace of affection between them.

That day was the last time she saw him.

She was dragged away to a remote annex, locked away and left to rot. No one visited her except his servants and, occasionally, his relatives. His aunt and uncle came daily, berating her with venomous words.

“How dare you! Do you think someone like you is worthy of him?”

“You can’t even conceive, and yet you dare dream so big?”

“Do you still not understand your place? How can you possibly think you have the right to see the Duke?”

Their relentless mockery left her battered and exhausted. Then there was the woman who visited her each day, her presence more haunting than comforting. Cloaked in the sickly sweetness of perfume, the woman would smile cruelly, her words laced with poison.

“Did you really think pheromones alone could tie him to you? How pitiful for someone like you, a worthless omega.”

Her voice was smooth, but the bitter jealousy underneath was impossible to miss.

“Do you know what Sion said to me? He asked me to keep an eye on you. Imagine that, a man like him humoring someone like you.”

Every word was a slow-acting poison. The imprint kept Rosechene’s heart beating, but her soul was withering, decaying under the weight of the scorn.

“…Lexion,” she murmured, his name falling from her lips for the first time. She had never dared to say it before. The name itself seemed to crack something inside her, setting her heart pounding violently once more.

She shivered as cold sweat drenched her body. The side effects of being separated from an imprinted alpha were brutal and unpredictable. Some days her body felt like ice, while on others, she burned with fever, her skin drenched in sweat.
As she lay trembling, a strange smell reached her nose—acrid, suffocating. Smoke.

“What…?”

Her mind raced as realization dawned. Black smoke seeped under the door, curling into the room like a malevolent serpent.
She staggered to her feet, but her starved and weakened body betrayed her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

“L-Lexion…”

She choked out his name in a whisper, though she knew no one would hear her.

The window.

She crawled toward it, only to recoil from the burning-hot metal of the handle. Outside, flames roared, their crimson tongues licking the night sky.

“Lexion…” she called again, her voice thin and trembling. Tears blurred her vision as she struggled, but the window refused to budge.

The smoke thickened, her lungs burning with every breath. Her movements grew sluggish, her vision dimming.

“Lexion…”

The name escaped her lips, soft and broken. She reached for the door, but before her fingers could touch it, flames burst through, consuming everything in their path.

Terror surged through her, rooting her in place. Even as the fire closed in, she couldn’t stop calling his name.

In her final moments, the truth she had tried so desperately to deny became inescapable.

He had abandoned her.

Her lips trembled, but no more tears came. A strange sense of peace washed over her, mingled with the bitter realization of her folly.

“…Lexion.”

With his name the last sound on her lips, Rosechene surrendered to the darkness.

For the first time in so long, she felt truly free.