025

Lucian tightened his grip on the sword. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, his stance shifted. and widened his stance. Nathaniel raised his sword, and they walked in circle, eyes locked on each other like predators. Lucian took a step and sprinted with a speed that caused Nathaniel to jerk for a second but quickly recollect himself.

Nathaniel lifted his blade once more. They circled each other like predators, eyes locked, tension thick in the air. Then Lucian moved.

He took a step forward and sprinted with a speed that made Nathaniel jerk in reflex. Nathaniel barely caught himself, shifting his weight just in time to meet the strike.

The force of it sent a shudder up his arms.

Lucian didn’t ease up. His blows came faster, heavier—so precise they left no opening to strike back. Nathaniel could barely keep up, his sword arm trembling from the impact. Every block sent sharp vibrations through his bones.

He raised his sword to block another swing, but Lucian kicked the sword against his chest. The younger alpha slammed against a pillar, a grunt tearing from his throat.

Sparks erupted from their clashing blades, the intensity enough to make Sarang flinch from where he sat. The omega’s hands clenched into fists. He wanted the fight to stop—but the thrill on Nathaniel’s face and the unyielding focus in Lucian’s eyes held him in place.

“Does it hurt?” Lucian asked, glancing at Nathaniel’s bruised hands. “There is no shame in forfeiting.”

“I will win.” Nathaniel declared.

Lucian’s expression darkened. His strikes grew heavier, faster, forcing Nathaniel onto the defensive once more. Nathaniel’s hands ached, his muscles burned. Victory was on his father’s side—but he refused to give in.

Then something shifted.

Lucian’s entire body tensed, his grip faltering. His chest rose sharply, breath suddenly uneven. A throbbing sensation rippled through him—his head, his limbs, the very core of his being. His fangs ached. His hands trembled. His instincts raged violently.

Lavender.

The faint scent drifted through the air, soothing yet unbearable against his unravelling control.

Lucian’s sword dropped.

Nathaniel’s blade pointed at him, but the younger alpha hesitated. His father wasn’t looking at his weapon but him.

Lucian’s deep, dark eyes glowed red.

A cold shiver crawled up Nathaniel’s spine. The change was instant, a stark contrast to the composed man he had fought moments ago.

This wasn’t his father.

This was an alpha on the brink of aggressive agitation.

Lucian had fully presented.

Nathaniel stepped back instinctively, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. His sword clattered to the ground. Sweat trickled down his neck as he watched his father in wary silence, bracing for any sudden movement.

“Nathan, what are you doing?” Sarang’s voice wavered, concern threading through his words..

“Stay where you are!” Nathaniel barked, eyes never leaving Lucian.

Sarang froze.

Lucian twitched at the sharp command, his jaw clenching. Every instinct in him screamed to claim the omega—to take—but he forced himself to move in the opposite direction. He turned sharply and walked away without a word.

Nathaniel collapsed onto his knees, gasping for air.

Sarang and Gregory rushed to his side, supporting him on his feet. Sarang’s small hands frantically inspected Nathaniel’s trembling arms.

“Are you okay?” Sarang’s voice was urgent, filled with unspoken fear.

Gregory exhaled, shaking out the tension in his body. “His Grace’s last minute of silence was frightening… the hair on my neck still shivers.”

Sarang’s gaze dropped to Nathaniel’s hands. “Your hands—”

“They’ll heal.” Nathaniel shook him off. His breath was still uneven, his pulse wild. “Thank you for coming, Gregory, but… please excuse me. Sarang will see you out, forgive me.”

Gregory hesitated but nodded. “Of course.”

“Nathan…” Sarang whispered, worry deep in his voice.

Nathaniel ignored him. He turned and walked away, flexing his fingers as he went. His hands still tingled from the fight, but that wasn’t what left his body rattled.

His father’s change—the sharp, unnatural glow of his eyes, the oppressive shift in his presence—

Nathaniel gritted his teeth.

He never wanted to experience that again.

Lucian’s seat remained empty as the servants laid out dinner. Sarang drummed his fingers nervously against the table, his gaze flickering toward the door every few seconds.

Sebastian entered, looking slightly fatigued, and gave a respectful bow.

“Master Lucian will not be joining you tonight.” He informed them.

Sarang’s fingers stilled. “Is he well?” His voice was laced with sincere concern.

Lucian wasn’t injured or ill—Nathaniel knew that much.

During puberty, both alpha and omega children experienced a primitive presentation as their hormones and pheromones developed. As they aged, these occurrences grew rarer, surfacing mostly during mating periods, or moments of intense emotion.

Yet there were exceptions.

Nathaniel recalled a handful of violent presentations recorded in Oxford—cases where alphas and omegas lost all rationality, consumed by fixation. The reactions varied: aggression, attraction, possession.

His father was the first case he had ever seen where the alpha simply… withdrew.

“He’ll live.” Sebastian replied curtly. “On another note, a letter arrived for you, young master. It bears the seal of Eldoria’s court.”

Sebastian handed him the envelope. Breaking the seal, he pulled out the placard inside, scanning the words.

His chair scraped against the floor as he shot to his feet.

“I have been accepted as a member of Eldoria’s court! They’ve requested an appearance tomorrow!” Nathaniel announced, his voice bursting with excitement.

Sarang’s face lit up, clapping his hands in delight. “Congratulations!”

“Congratulations, young master.” Sebastian said.

“Be sure to share the news with Father.” Nathaniel requested.

Sebastian nodded before excusing himself.

The moment the butler left, Nathan turned to Sarang, a grin stretching across his face. In one swift motion, he scooped the omega into his arms.

Sarang squealed, his laughter echoing through the room as Nathan twirled him in the air. Instinctively, Sarang clung to his shoulders, his fingers tightening around the fabric of Nathan’s shirt. The moment felt weightless—pure, unfiltered joy.

Nathan finally stopped, his arms still secure around Sarang’s waist. He captured the omega’s lips in a kiss, tasting the lingering sweetness of pudding on his tongue. The warmth of Sarang’s body, the light press of his hands against his nape—it was intoxicating. Bliss.

When they parted, Sarang’s eyes shimmered with affection. “Why didn’t you mention you applied for Eldoria’s court?” He asked, fingers idly playing with Nathan’s hair. “I didn’t think you would practice.”

“I wanted it to be a pleasant surprise.” Nathan admitted. “It’s difficult to earn invitation, but I’m now a member. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Sarang whispered, cradling his cheeks. “I am so proud of you.”

Nathan hummed in satisfaction. “We should celebrate with wine.”

“No alcohol before bed.”

“Can’t tonight be an exception?”

“No.” Sarang’s lips curled into a smirk. “Besides, I should be the one celebrating you.”

Nathan tilted his head, eyes darkening with playful mischief. “How will you celebrate me?”

Sarang tickled his chin, his teasing touch drawing their lips dangerously close. A sweet scent drifted from him, curling around Nathan’s senses like silk. The reaction was immediate. Nathan’s body tensed, heat pooling low in his stomach as his arousal pressed firmly against Sarang’s thigh.

Sarang exhaled against his lips.

“Midnight,” he murmured. “Come to my room.”

Then, slipping from Nathaniel’s grasp, he strutted toward the door, his heart hammering in his chest, his face burning.

Nathaniel watched him leave, the heat of his promise lingering in the air.

Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.