The crispness of freshly pressed linen

Alaric didn't linger after that. He gave Elias one last searching look before stepping away, letting the door swing shut behind him.

The absence of his presence left a strange emptiness in the air, but Elias barely acknowledged it. He turned back to his work, hands moving with mechanical manner as he plated the master's meal.

It was routine, a mindless repetition that kept him grounded and kept him from thinking too much.

But despite his efforts, Alaric's words wouldn't leave his mind.

"You don't look fine."

Of course, he didn't. How could he? He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten properly in days, and his body ached in ways he refused to acknowledge.

But none of that mattered. Nothing about him did.

He picked up the tray and walked through the halls of Ravenspire, the weight of his reality pressing down on him with each step.

When he reached the master's quarters, he hesitated. The door loomed before him, a barrier to the man who had stripped him of everything.

His hands tightened around the tray.

Yesterday would be the last time.

The thought echoed in his mind, stronger than before. He had nothing left to lose. No reason to obey. No reason to endure.

He inhaled slowly, steadying himself, then pushed open the door.

The master lounged in his chair by the window, dressed in fine silks, his expression one of cold amusement as Elias entered. The moment their eyes met, Elias felt the weight of those predatory eyes sweeping over him, assessing, claiming.

"You're late," the master remarked lazily as if Elias's entire existence was an inconvenience.

Elias bowed as he placed the food tray on the table.

"I'm sorry master, but just like yesterday, I'm no longer on duty to serve the master his food daily. This is Thomas's job, but yet I'm being reprimanded for a role I'm not playing.."

"…"

The man placed a finger on his chin, trying to remember who Thomas was, and when he did the annoyance on his face was evident.

The master's lips curled, his amusement fading into something sharper—irritation flickering beneath the surface of his otherwise controlled demeanor.

"Thomas," he repeated as if the name itself was an offense. His fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair, slow and deliberate. "Ah, yes. I recall now."

Elias stood stiffly by the table, his head bowed, waiting for whatever response would come. He knew better than to speak further.

He had already said too much.

The master let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "So, Thomas was meant to serve me today. And yet, here you are." His gaze darkened, an unspoken weight pressing down on Elias's shoulders.

Elias said nothing. He wasn't foolish enough to believe the master would simply let it go.

"And why," the master continued, his voice deceptively smooth, "why would that be, Elias?"

Elias swallowed, keeping his expression neutral. "I don't know, Master. I only follow orders."

The room went silent.

Then—

"Look at me."

Elias's breath hitched. His fingers curled into fists by his sides, hidden within the folds of his uniform. He didn't want to. He didn't want to meet those eyes again, to feel that gaze crawling over him like it always did.

But defiance was a risk he couldn't afford.

Slowly, he lifted his chin. His eyes met the master's.

And he regretted it instantly.

There was something there—something unreadable, something Elias didn't want to understand. It wasn't anger, nor was it satisfaction. It was something deeper.

Hungrier.

The master studied him in silence, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin against his knuckles.

"Are you trying to avoid me?" he asked, almost thoughtfully.

Elias forced himself to remain still. "I only go to where I'm needed, Master."

A soft, knowing hum left the man's lips. His gaze didn't waver.

"And yet," he mused, "even now, you're trembling."

Elias stiffened, his nails digging into his palms.

The master exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as if something about Elias fascinated him in a way it shouldn't. Then, as if dismissing his thoughts, he waved a hand.

"Leave and call Reginald on your way out.."

Elias bowed as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him the next second.

The man immediately covered his nose, walking to the window to get some fresh air, his blonde hair finally came into the light.

So this was Elias's pheromones, he had no idea it would affect him this much.

His scent.

It wasn't cloying or desperate, like the pheromones of others who had stood before him, pleading for favor or mercy. No, Elias's scent was something different. It didn't beg—it lulled.

Like the hush of silk sliding through one's fingers, smooth and weightless. The crispness of freshly pressed linen, warm from the sun, yet cool against the skin.

Beneath it all, a whisper of something deeper, something he couldn't quite place—aged parchment, perhaps, kissed by time and wisdom beyond its years.

It stirred something in him, something that curled and coiled in the pit of his stomach, a thing unbidden and unwelcome.

It was a scent meant to soothe, meant to comfort. And yet, it unsettled him.

Because it did not belong here.

Not in this room. Not in his presence. Not in a place where things were meant to break.

His fingers curled against the folds of his robes, jaw tightening as he forced his thoughts away from the omega.

It was too easy to let his thoughts slip, to let the scent weave its way deeper into his mind, softening the sharp edges of his resolve.

He looked at the mask on the bedside table, he had stayed away from his duties, he couldn't miss any more days.

He just needed Reginald to run his itinerary for the day before he set out.

A knock was heard soon, by that time he had changed his clothes to a more formal one, preparing to wear the mask when the knock was in.

"Master, it's Reginald..may I come in?"

After waiting for while, Reginald carefully walked into the room.

Bowing, he acknowledged the man.

"You sent for me master Cassius.."

Cassius turned, wearing his gloves as he turned to Reginald.

"Reginald, it seems life has been good for you.."

Reginald felt his back sweat, coming from Cassius's mouth a simple compliment had turned to a threat.

"The master treats his worker well.."

Reginald managed to say, not daring to look at Cassius in the eyes.

"Hm.." Cassius hummed "yet a certain omega looks like he's having a rough time, Reginald…how often do you play with Elias?"