POV: Irian Thal
Irian Thal had always preferred silence.
It wasn't that he hated people—he just never quite fit inside their noise. While others filled rooms with laughter, arguments, and careless chatter, Irian existed on the edges, a shadow among the brightness.
At home, silence was survival. His family had long since stopped asking questions about where he went, who he spoke to, what he wanted. They only demanded. He obeyed. It was easier that way.
Tonight, though, silence was restless.
He sat at his desk, textbooks open but unread, pen dangling between his fingers. The rain outside tapped against the window like it had something to say. His phone vibrated once, sharp against the wood.
He blinked down at the screen.
Daelen Pryce.
The name alone was enough to make his pulse falter. The Alpha who filled every room like a storm—confident, untouchable, the kind of presence that drew eyes whether you wanted to look or not.
Irian hadn't spoken to him in weeks. Their last exchange had been brief, almost meaningless. Why now?
The message glowed back at him:
> You busy tonight? Let's talk.
Irian's first instinct was to ignore it. Nothing good ever came from someone like Daelen seeking him out. He wasn't naïve—he knew what people whispered, what they assumed about him because of his quiet nature. Omegas who kept to themselves were easy prey.
But Daelen wasn't just anyone. He was Lucian's friend. Nareth's too. Which meant if he ignored him, it could spiral into questions he didn't want. Attention he couldn't handle.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard, hesitation heavy in his chest.
Finally, he typed two words.
> I'm home.
The moment he hit send, regret coiled in his stomach. His sanctuary—his quiet, his walls—suddenly felt fragile. As if letting Daelen in, even through a message, had cracked something he'd spent years reinforcing.
He closed the textbook, staring at his reflection in the window. The rain blurred his face, turning it into something ghostlike. Something that didn't belong anywhere.
"Just a conversation," he murmured under his breath, though no one was there to hear.
But deep down, a sliver of unease whispered otherwise. Conversations with men like Daelen Pryce were never just conversations.
And tonight, silence would not protect him.