✦ Chapter 17 ✦
"Are you alright, Alpha Lucien?"
The older guard spoke carefully, his voice pitched low and respectful, though unease flickered behind his eyes. His gaze lingered on the deep crease carved between Lucien's brows—a line that hadn't been there when the journey began.
Lucien answered with only a rough hum. His head throbbed viciously, pressure building behind his eyes as though something inside his skull were striking again and again, each pulse heavier than the last, rattling through bone and nerve alike. Even the faint groan of the carriage settling made the ache flare sharper.
When he stepped down, the cold night air should have bitten—but it barely grazed him. His body burned too fiercely for winter to matter. Heat coursed through his veins with punishing intensity, thick and relentless, as if molten metal had replaced his blood. His skin felt stretched too tight over muscle and bone, every breath dragging fire into his lungs.
What the hell is happening…
He lifted his gaze—and froze.
Crimson butterflies drifted across the sky, slow and silent. Their wings glowed faintly, scattering red light through the darkness as they moved like falling embers. The sight drew a sharp frown from him. It was wrong. Unnatural. His instincts recoiled even as his vision blurred at the edges.
A groan sounded behind him.
Lucien turned.
The guards had doubled over, hands clawing at their heads as though crushed beneath an invisible weight. Color drained from their faces, sweat beading along their temples despite the cold. Jaws clenched, teeth bared, bodies trembling violently—like prey pinned beneath the gaze of something vast and merciless.
"What's wrong with you?" Lucien demanded, irritation cutting sharp—but it fractured into alarm when none of them answered.
Then the scent reached him.
Winter roses.
His scent.
It slid into his lungs, cold and sharp and unmistakable, threading straight down his spine. Lucien went still.
The realization struck hard enough to steal his breath. His heart slammed against his ribs, heavy and wild, the rhythm wrong, panicked. It made no sense—there had been no warning, no gradual pull. It was far too early. Nearly four months too early.
His thoughts scrambled, grasping for reason.
Felix. A forced rut. Vynn.
"That damned snake," Lucien growled.
The sound carried Alpha authority—thick, instinctive, vibrating through the ground itself. The betas reacted before thought could intervene. Backs bowed. Shoulders caved inward. Their bodies betrayed them, responding as omegas would before a dominant Alpha, breath stuttering, muscles locking.
"Leave," Lucien ordered.
His canines descended with a sharp click, catching the moonlight as they gleamed. The guards didn't hesitate. They fled, boots crunching against frost and gravel as they disappeared into the night, relief and fear trailing behind them like smoke.
The moment they were gone, the heat worsened.
It wrapped tighter around his body, sinking deep into muscle and bone until every nerve screamed. His breathing grew rough, ragged—the sound tearing from his chest, more beast than man—as the winter-rose scent flooded outward, thick enough to choke reason itself.
Lucien staggered into his chambers and collapsed onto the bed. His fingers fisted the sheets so tightly the fabric strained, threads biting into his skin. His jaw locked, teeth grinding as need coiled tighter and tighter inside him, a living thing clawing for release.
He needed something.
Someone.
The thought alone nearly shattered him.
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The instant Esper dissolved into crimson butterflies, Elian's breath caught painfully in his chest.
The air felt suddenly hollow, as though something vital had been ripped away.
His violet eyes stayed fixed on the empty space, wide and glassy as understanding settled like a blade beneath his ribs.
Without the powder… he's defenseless. He'll die.
The thought ripped through him, raw and merciless. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, hot and unchecked, his throat closing as panic hollowed him out. He barely noticed them—until a scent brushed against his senses.
Faint.
Subtle.
Unmistakable.
Winter roses.
It crept into him gently at first, cool and sharp, a scent he had learned by heart. Only now it carried weight—restrained, compressed, pressing into him with a force that made his lungs stutter. Elian gasped, knees weakening as the world tipped sideways.
The scent thickened with every heartbeat, winding tight around his omega instincts. Heat bloomed beneath his skin, sharp and sudden, searing along his gland until a soft, broken whimper slipped from his lips.
Never had his body reacted like this.
Not even when the whiskey-scented Alpha had overwhelmed him—strong, distant, impersonal.
This was different.
This crawled beneath his skin like fire ants, slow and consuming. His cheeks flushed, sweat gathering along his spine as his breaths turned shallow and uneven. Each inhale felt heavier, fuller, dragging something dangerous into his chest.
Without his consent, his pheromones began to leak.
Lavender and peppermint spilled into the air—soft, bruised, trembling. They reached instinctively, winding toward the winter-rose scent like a plea. Together they formed something dizzying and intoxicating, thick enough to blur the edges of his thoughts.
Elian's eyes fluttered half-lidded as his body betrayed him completely.
Why is this happening…? Why now…?
His mind unraveled as the Alpha's presence crushed what little resistance he had left. He couldn't stand. Couldn't move. His limbs felt distant and heavy, as though the floor itself were holding him down.
All he could do was whimper.
He was slipping into passive heat.
Unmarked. Unprotected.
A superior Alpha like Lucien—this outcome had always been possible. Still, through the haze, a fragile thought surfaced.
Did Esper know? Is that why he came—to make sure I survived this?
Fresh tears spilled as Elian lay there, powerless, drowning in sensation.
His scent drifted through the halls.
And reached Lucien's door.
Lucien's eyes snapped open.
Gold ignited his gaze—molten, feral, blazing hot—as his body answered the call he hadn't known he was waiting for.
"Omega," he growled.
He was on his feet in an instant, moving on instinct alone—as if that scent were the only thing left in the world capable of saving him.
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✦ End of Chapter ✦