Darrien's Perspective

Darrien spent the rest of the night at the hotel. After barely five minutes in that room with those rutting alphas, he'd had enough. He left them to their orgy and asked the staff to book him a room far away from the noise.

His pheromones alone were enough to keep them going all night, and the idea of witnessing that made his stomach churn. In fact, he already felt nauseated.

As soon as he got to his hotel room, he sank into a hot bath, the water clouded with fragrant bubbles. He let the warmth soothe his skin, but the discomfort inside him refused to fade. The scent of lust and desperation still clung to his senses, making him feel tainted, as though something foul had touched him. Even after scrubbing his skin raw, the feeling lingered beneath the surface.

Afterward, he ordered food. Cassian — Cass — was the one who brought it to him. Of course, he was. Cass had been shadowing him from the moment those alphas laid hands on him, even if he hadn't stepped in. Darrien had made it clear that Cass was only to interfere if he sensed Darrien's distress pheromones. Cass obeyed without question — not because he was indifferent, but because he respected Darrien's autonomy.

Cass was a beta, which made him uniquely suited for this role. Most betas couldn't sense pheromones with any real accuracy, but Cass could read them as acutely as any alpha — perhaps even better. It was why Darrien had chosen him as his personal bodyguard. He didn't trust alphas in such close proximity. The way they watched him when they thought he wasn't looking — eyes dark with hunger — made his skin crawl. Darrien knew he was beautiful. He took pride in that fact. But there was a difference between admiration and objectification. He could stomach quiet reverence, but not the thinly veiled hunger he often saw in alphas' eyes.

"How are you feeling, sir?" Cass asked, setting the tray down on the low table near the bed.

His voice was calm, but the crease in his brow betrayed his concern.

"I feel like I've touched something filthy that no amount of water can wash away." Darrien's voice was sharp with disgust.

Cass's expression darkened. His emotions were always so easy to read — such a stark contrast to Darrien's carefully cultivated composure. Darrien smiled faintly at the sight of it.

"Don't worry, Cass. I'm sure I'll feel better after a good night's sleep — and after those brutes are properly punished."

Darrien had already called Leander, co-owner of the club and hotel — and his only true friend. Leander would handle it. Darrien had considered making the recording of whatever had happened in that hotel room public, but he knew how his parents would react. His mother and father wouldn't have been horrified by the possibility of an assault — no, their outrage would have stemmed from the fact that Darrien had exposed himself publicly, that he had made the Valmoor name vulnerable to scandal.

It had always been about the family's reputation. Even when Darrien had first manifested as a first-class omega — years later than most of his peers — his father's relief had been palpable. Not because he cared about Darrien, but because it meant the Valmoor legacy was secure. His mother had wasted no time molding him into the perfect omega: desirable, strategic, untouchable. He had been taught to command attention without asking for it — to control the room simply by existing.

Darrien had never questioned it. It was the role he was born to play. And if there was a part of him that had rotted under the weight of that upbringing — well, that was the price of power, wasn't it?

"I'll stay here tonight, sir," Cass said suddenly. He crossed the room, stopping near the window — close enough to act if necessary, but not so close as to invade Darrien's space.

"You're going to stand by that window all night like a statue?" Darrien's lips curved slightly.

"Of course," Cass replied without hesitation.

Darrien's chest tightened. He turned his face away. "It's fine, Cass. I'm okay."

"You might say that, sir," Cass said quietly, "but no matter how many times you go through something like that, it never gets easier. Having company helps."

Darrien might have initially hired Cass because he was a beta with the rare ability to sense pheromones, but that wasn't why Cass had stayed. It was Cass's quiet, unwavering loyalty that had earned him a permanent place by Darrien's side. His concern for Darrien's well-being wasn't feigned or strategic; it was genuine. That sincerity had become a rare and precious thing in Darrien's life — one he wasn't willing to let go of.

Before Cass, there had been others. Too many to count. Personal guards handpicked by his mother or father, alphas chosen for their strength, their pedigree, their unquestioning loyalty to the Valmoor name. But they had all disappointed him eventually — some too aggressive, others too calculating. A few had mistaken their closeness to him as an invitation for something more, their eyes lingering too long on his skin, their touch becoming just a little too familiar. Darrien had learned to cut those ties quickly, cleanly. He didn't have the patience for subtle predators.

Cass was different. He had already lasted more than a year — a quiet record in Darrien's world of revolving doors and disposable attachments. Cass had never overstepped. He remained steady, reliable, a quiet shadow at Darrien's back. And perhaps most importantly, he saw Darrien — not as a prize to be won, not as a fragile omega to be protected, but as a person. That was rare enough to be dangerous.

His mother had been displeased, of course. She had never liked the idea of Darrien making decisions without her oversight, least of all one as significant as his personal security. But Darrien had struck a bargain with her long ago. As long as he maintained the polished veneer of the perfect Valmoor heir — as long as he played the part at functions, charmed the right people, and upheld the family's pristine reputation — he was allowed certain freedoms. Small indulgences. The hiring of a personal bodyguard outside her sphere of influence had been one of those indulgences. She had protested, naturally, but Darrien had reminded her that control was a two-way street. He would play the role she required of him — but only if she let him live his own life in the spaces between.

Cass had been his choice — and Darrien didn't regret it.

Darrien glanced toward the window, where Cass had stationed himself, standing with the quiet stillness of a sentinel. The soft glow of city lights filtered through the glass, casting faint silver lines across Cass's sharp features. His expression was calm, his gaze distant, but Darrien knew better. Cass was always watching, always listening — ready to move the moment Darrien so much as twitched.

"Okay, Cass," Darrien sighed. "Then you can stay there."

Cass's eyes flicked toward him, dark and steady beneath the ambient light. He gave a short, silent nod — an answer without words — and resumed his quiet vigil.

Darrien finished his dinner and slipped beneath the cool sheets. Sleep tugged at his limbs almost immediately. The last two days had worn him down — Asahin showing up drenched in Kaylen's pheromones, his mother's barely contained fury over the incident, his father's relentless pressure to take a more active role in the family business. And then there was Kaylen himself — Darrien had to sit across from him at the university and pretend it didn't matter he had covered someone else in pheromones like that, when he had never done it for him. He had smiled like nothing was wrong, because Darrien couldn't afford to be the jealous type.

He had invested so much into his relationship with Kaylen — carefully crafting the image of the perfect omega boyfriend: caring, understanding, affectionate without being cloying. Kaylen wasn't as invested — Darrien had always known that — but it didn't matter. Loyalty was enough. Stability was enough. Love…

Love had never been part of the equation.

And yet, when Darrien closed his eyes, the hollow ache in his chest refused to fade.

..............................…..

It was Cass who woke Darrien from his

dreamless sleep.

"Sir, your phone is ringing."

Darrien stirred at the sound of Cass's steady voice, the low timbre cutting through the haze of sleep.

Without opening his eyes, he reached out, his hand brushing against Cass's cool fingers as he took the phone. His eyelids fluttered open just enough to see the glowing screen. Kaylen.

That was… unusual. Kaylen almost never called him first.

Darrien's lips curled into a lazy smile as he answered, his voice dripping with sweetness despite the sleep still clinging to his throat.

"Good morning, honey."

"Hello, Darrien." Kaylen's tone was clipped and businesslike — not the kind of voice one used with a boyfriend. "Meet me at our usual coffee shop in half an hour. We need to talk."

Darrien's smile tightened. That didn't sound promising.

"Okay. I'll be right there," he chimed, masking the sudden chill that ran down his spine.

As the line went dead, Darrien let his hand fall to the mattress, the phone resting loosely between his fingers. His head tilted back against the pillows, a vague queasiness stirring in his stomach. Maybe it was a side effect from releasing too many pheromones while still under the drug's influence. That couldn't have been good for his system.

With a sigh, he forced himself upright, limbs heavy and uncooperative. His bare feet hit the cool floor, and he pushed himself toward the bathroom, trailing the edge of the bed frame with his fingertips as if to steady himself.

"Cass," he said over his shoulder, his voice faint but precise. "Go to the shop downstairs and get me a pair of slacks and a blue shirt. Something fitted."

Cass, already halfway to the door, gave a crisp nod. "Right away, sir."

Darrien was dressed and ready in less than fifteen minutes — a record for him.

His honey-blond hair had been brushed back in soft waves, and a thin layer of concealer masked the faint shadows beneath his eyes. He studied himself in the mirror, turning his face slightly to catch the light. His slim frame was swathed perfectly in the tailored blue shirt and slacks. His delicate features — large sapphire-blue eyes, full pink lips, and that golden hair — gave him the look of an angel carved from glass.

He smiled at his reflection and winked.

"Perfect."

Exactly thirty minutes after Kaylen's call, Darrien slid into the coffee shop.

He spotted Kaylen immediately — tall, dark-haired, impossibly handsome — sitting at their usual table near the window. Kaylen's gray eyes were calm, detached. That wasn't unusual. Kaylen was never particularly expressive.

But still… something felt wrong.

Darrien leaned down to kiss Kaylen's cheek — a light, affectionate gesture — but Kaylen turned his head, avoiding the contact.

Darrien froze. His smile faltered.

Kaylen had never rejected his touch before. He wasn't warm or affectionate by nature, but he had always accepted Darrien's advances — the casual hand-holding, the light pecks on the cheek, the way Darrien would lean into him when they were alone.

He never reciprocated, but he never rejected it, either. Until now.

"What's wrong, honey?" Darrien asked, his voice soft but taut with unease. His stomach tightened into a knot.

Kaylen's gaze was steady, the gray depths cool and unwavering. "I want to break up."

The words landed like a slap. Darrien's breath hitched. He stared, trying to process what he'd just heard.

"But… we're getting engaged in less than a month," he said, disbelief sharpening the edges of his voice. "My mother already started planning the engagement party."

Kaylen's expression didn't change. "That's why I wanted to settle this now, before things get too far along. Aside from our families, no one knows about the engagement yet. This is the right time."

Darrien's heart thudded painfully against his ribcage. His mind reeled, spiraling through a dozen worst-case scenarios. Had Kaylen found out? About the lies? About the things Darrien and his mother had done to manipulate Asahin — to make Darrien look better in comparison? Did Asahin tell him?

Or worse…

Had Kaylen realized what Asahin really was to him? That Asahin mattered more than Darrien was willing to admit, even to himself?

No. It couldn't be that. Kaylen wouldn't be this calm if he knew the truth.

"I can't be with you," Kaylen said, his tone frustratingly even. "I know I owe you an explanation, but I can't give you that right now. I'm sorry."

Darrien's breath turned shallow. His hands curled against his knees. Anger coiled beneath the hurt, a dark, twisting thing. He should be furious — but did he even have the right to be? He had used Kaylen, after all. His affection for Kaylen had been genuine — in its own way — but their relationship had always been more political than personal.

But Kaylen wasn't the type to act on impulse. If he had made this decision, there was a reason — and Darrien needed to know what it was. And find a way to fix their relationship.

"Okay," Darrien said at last, forcing a smile, painfully trying to mask his shock.

Kaylen's brow furrowed faintly. "Don't worry about your parents or my grandfather. I'll handle them."

"No. Let me tell my parents first. Then you can tell your grandfather."

"Fine. But don't take too long. We don't want the preparations to get too far ahead and for people to find out about our engagement," Kaylen said, drily.

"Of course," Darrien forced a smile.

"Goodbye, then. See you at the university."Kaylen said, standing.

Darrien sat frozen as Kaylen walked away, the distant sound of the coffee shop fading beneath the roar in his ears.

His whole body felt cold. Kaylen couldn't seriously think he could just end things like this — not when their relationship was the cornerstone of the alliance between the two most powerful families in the kingdom.

No… Kaylen wouldn't get away that easily.

A wave of dizziness swept through him. His hands pressed weakly against the table as the floor beneath his feet seemed to tilt dangerously. He stood, swaying, his vision narrowing to a dark tunnel.

"Sir!" Cass's voice cut through the fog.

Darrien barely registered the strong hands catching him as his knees buckled.

"Sir, you're pale. What's wrong?" Cass's voice was sharp with concern.

"I'm… fine," Darrien murmured. He tried to move forward, but the ground vanished beneath him and everything turned black.