Marked by Alpha Queen

Chapter One – The Queen's Invitation

There was a whisper in the city-quiet and seductive. One that moved like smoke through underground clubs and private casting parties. It spoke of a woman with a crown made of silence and lips that never lied. An Alpha Queen. Untouchable. Unspeakable. And for the right Omega, unforgettable.

No one saw her, not truly. No one touched her unless invited. Yet those she marked rose like fire through the ranks of the entertainment world-actors, models, singers. All famous. All worshiped. All once ordinary.

She was the myth behind every miracle, and the shadow behind every broken soul.

Her name was Lilly.

And for the first time in over a decade, she was looking for a new favorite.

Ken didn't believe in fate. He believed in survival.

He grew up in the alleys of Gidaville, where fame was a joke and freedom was an illusion. He learned early how to lie with his smile and seduce with his silence. Being an Omega meant being prey, unless you learned how to bite.

By twenty-two, Ken had clawed his way into the lower ranks of the modeling world. His face was in one campaign-cheap cologne. His voice had been rejected from a dozen casting booths. His dance reel had two million views online but no calls. He wasn't the boy-next-door. He wasn't soft. He wasn't sweet.

He was sharp. Fast. And tired of being poor.

So when he returned home from another rejection and found a black velvet envelope sitting at the edge of his mattress, he knew instantly that it wasn't a mistake.

The envelope was heavy, sealed with gold wax. It smelled faintly of roses and spice. There was no stamp. No delivery slip. No address. Just his name-KEN-embossed into the paper in deep red.

He didn't open it right away.

He stared at it like it might explode.

Then he tore it open.

You have been chosen.

Velvet Crown Entertainment requests your presence.

Come alone. No phone. No questions.

Obedience will be rewarded. Defiance will be forgotten.

Attached: a silver card with coordinates and a time. Midnight. A town just outside the city.

Ken didn't hesitate.

He packed nothing but his boots and a shirt that fit, left his phone on the cracked kitchen counter, and didn't look back.

Fred had always believed in signs. In stars. In love.

He was nineteen and still sang in churches when no one was listening. He worked part-time at a bookstore and lived with two other struggling dreamers. His dream was simple: to be seen. Not as the beautiful boy people whispered about, not as the Omega who blushed too easily, but as something special. As someone worthy.

When his envelope came, it was tucked under the door of the chapel.

He was rehearsing alone, barefoot, bathed in candlelight, singing something slow and holy.

He saw the envelope and froze.

His name-FRED-in gold.

His heart beat so fast he nearly dropped it.

The paper trembled in his hand as he opened it.

You have been chosen.

The Queen is watching.

Come in silence. Leave all behind.

Fred didn't think. He knelt right there and whispered a thank-you.

Then he packed nothing, dressed in white, and went exactly where the invitation told him.

Fred and Ken were picked up at different points, different hours.

Fred was met by a silver car near a field just after midnight. The driver wore white gloves and didn't speak. He offered Fred a blindfold. Fred put it on without question.

Ken was met by a black SUV on the edge of an abandoned industrial park. The driver was silent. A woman in a red suit handed him a bottle of water and a small velvet pouch.

"Put this on," she said. Inside was a soft black collar.

Ken scoffed. "Is this some kind of fetish shoot?"

"No," she said. "This is the beginning."

He put it on.

The road was long. The windows were tinted so dark they could have been underground. Neither boy knew how much time passed. Neither boy asked.

All they knew was that when the car stopped, the air smelled of roses and cold stone.

And the world they knew was over.

The estate was unlike anything they imagined.

Built into a cliffside, the Velvet Glass House was all obsidian glass and red marble. Balconies hung like whispers over the ocean. Candles lit the halls. There were no light switches, no clocks, no mirrors in the bedrooms. Just silence and velvet.

Ken's room had a black bed and a single rose in a vase. Fred's room had white linens and a silver music box that played when touched.

They didn't see each other.

Not yet.

Instead, they were bathed, robed, and left alone for hours. Days, maybe.

Their food was brought by silent attendants. Their clothes were selected for them. Their only contact with the world outside their rooms was through the voice that came from the ceiling-low, feminine, hypnotic.

Lilly.

"Obedience begins in stillness," she said.

"Silence is not weakness. It is worship."

Neither boy dared speak.

On the third day, each was led into a circular chamber lined with mirrors.

A single stool stood in the center.

The voice came again.

"Sit. And tell me what makes you ashamed."

Fred sat gently. He placed his hands on his knees and spoke softly.

"I'm afraid of being ordinary," he said. "I'm afraid I'll give everything... and no one will see it."

He cried a little.

The lights dimmed. A single rose bloomed in the mirror beside him.

Ken sat down like it was an interrogation. He smirked at his reflection.

"I'm ashamed of nothing," he said. "I did what I had to do. If that makes me dirty, fine."

Silence.

Then the voice again.

"Everyone lies. Try again."

Ken's face shifted.

"I'm ashamed," he said slowly, "that I liked being used. That I hated myself after... but not during."

The lights flickered. A breath of warm air moved across his neck.

"Good boy," the voice whispered.

Ken didn't sleep that night.