CP 1

Duke Mikhail Castilla.

Third in line for the throne, he is highly renowned as one of the few Dominant Alphas on the continent.

The castle where he spends most of his year boasted a scale as magnificent as the vast estate he ruled. The castle walls, encircling an entire low hill alongside a river, stood with seven high, large polygonal stone towers positioned in every direction. The towering stone towers had thin, long arrow slits, allowing archers to easily attack approaching enemies.

The stone walls connecting the towers were so thick that it was clear no siege engine could destroy them. Outside those walls lay a deep and wide moat, ensuring that no enemy could successfully infiltrate the castle. Having been proven historically through several brutal wars in the past, anyone could assert that Duke Castilla’s castle was impregnable.

The reason the castle was built like a military fortress was that it was indeed situated in a strategic military location. However, now that over two hundred years had passed since the wars between nations that once swept the continent had ended, its function as a military fortress had almost vanished. Consequently, while maintaining its fortress functions, the interior was remodeled and expanded into a massive mansion suited to the owner’s taste, and beautiful gardens were created, transforming it into a lavish residence befitting a high noble.

Mikhail, the owner of that massive and luxurious castle, was currently walking alone through the vast, lush forest to the west of the castle. His chest slowly expanded and contracted in time with his slow inhalations and long exhalations. The gentle breeze brushing through the dense trees carried Mikhail’s breath and scent away from the prey. The red deer, which had been hunted without a moment’s rest for nearly three days, twitched its nose in the air as if trying to gauge the tracker’s position.

However, because the wind was pushing Mikhail’s scent in the opposite direction, the red deer’s sense of smell failed it. As if threatening, the creature swung its beautiful and menacing antlers in the air a couple of times. It knew that the tracker had not yet given up on it.

Mikhail admired the prey while skillfully hiding his body among the trees and bushes. It was a sturdy red deer carrying antlers as grand and beautiful as a crown. It was now the onset of autumn, the mating season for red deer.

The antlers of a young, healthy male red deer in its prime, having bulked up its body, were at their sharpest, strongest, and most beautiful state of the year. The antlers, extending elegantly like a crown, would surely defeat competitors one after another in the struggle for mating, and its glossy red fur, flaunting its robustness, would capture the hearts of the does.

The red deer, which had been searching for the tracker’s presence, seemed to relax for a moment, letting out a snort as it lowered its head to quench its thirst at a small, trickling stream. It was the first time it had drunk water during the relentless pursuit that had lasted three long days.

Mikhail licked his dry lips as he watched the prey drink. The reason the prey had run for three days without a single sip of water was that Mikhail, the hunter, had done the same. His stomach, having eaten nothing for days, twisted as if it were tearing, crying out in hunger, and his parched mouth and throat desperately craved a sip of water.

However, Mikhail completely ignored the desperate pleas of his body and focused on the prey. The extreme hunger and thirst had to be satisfied not by berries, mushrooms, small game, or stream water, but solely by that prey.

Just as the deer had regained the strength for another desperate flight through a brief rest and a drink, Mikhail stepped lightly on the ground with his tough leather shoes, casting aside his boredom. A tiny sound of soil being crushed under the weight beneath the lush grass—that single clue was enough.

The red deer’s ears, which had been on high alert, pricked up, and without a moment’s hesitation, it began to run in the opposite direction of where Mikhail was hiding. Mikhail’s body, also exhausted from days of pursuit, sprang toward the prey in response. Despite the terrible hunger, thirst, and the screams of his overworked body, Mikhail’s eyes sparkled with joyful anticipation as he chased the red deer.

Mikhail was an excellent hunter whose skill had reached its peak. Since hunting was one of the few outlets to release his instincts other than war, he had lived immersed in it since childhood.

There are various methods of hunting, but the method Mikhail particularly preferred was extremely simple: choosing one prey and relentlessly tracking it until it collapsed from exhaustion. This simple and crude method was highly inefficient as it required a massive expenditure of the hunter’s time and energy, but for that exact reason, it appealed to Mikhail.

Prey is bound to flee desperately when it encounters a hunter. Instead of closing the distance from the start, Mikhail maintained a certain distance, following persistently and tenaciously, narrowing the gap very slowly. Occasionally, cunning prey would scramble their footprints to shake off the hunter, but a skilled hunter is not easily fooled.

The pursuit lasts for a few hours at shortest, and for several days and nights at longest. The prey, fleeing desperately without even a moment to rest, eventually collapses, exhausted and spent. Eyes that have given up everything and await death, and exhausted breaths exhaled weakly. Only when the prey gives up its flight and collapses in exhaustion to wait for him does Mikhail finally reveal himself.

By then, Mikhail has also exhausted all his overflowing energy; his throat is parched as if burning, and his insides are twisting with hunger. The time spent chasing and being chased for hours or days, as if only the prey and the hunter existed in the world, inevitably leaves a powerful impression of the other’s presence.

The pursuit, which resumed after a brief rest, was now reaching its climax. If it had been an ordinary deer, it would have already collapsed from exhaustion, and an ordinary human would have done the same. However, the prey was the youngest and strongest in this vast forest, and Mikhail was no ordinary human.

Unlike the previous three days, where he had run as if herding the prey to match its speed, Mikhail gradually increased his pursuit speed. To shake off Mikhail, the creature squeezed out its remaining strength to leap over fallen high trees and dash through thick bushes, but those obstacles were no problem for Mikhail.

The distance was closing. The sound of hooves desperately kicking the ground grew closer. The creature’s rough breath, snorting out, fueled the excitement of the hunter who had the prey within reach.

Another day passed like that. The sound of hooves, which had been slowing down, finally stopped completely. In the lush forest where even the birdsong had ceased, only the rough breathing of the red deer, snorting as if it would collapse at any moment, echoed. The creature staggered as if it were a burden to stand on its four legs. With its neck drooping low, it seemed as if even the weight of the proud antlers, grown sharp and beautiful for the mating struggle, was too much to bear.

Mikhail slowly revealed himself from behind a tree. The red deer, finally seeing the hunter who had relentlessly pursued it, slowly bent its legs and sat on the ground, as if it no longer had the strength to stand. Then, while staring blankly at Mikhail as he approached step by step, it collapsed to the side.

Thump!

The heavy body of the large red deer, weighing at least 200kg, hit the ground with a dull thud.

Mikhail did not rush, as he had for the past five days. He closed the distance slowly so that the prey could fully feel his presence. He savored the prey’s hooves, worn and broken from the desperate flight, and its chest, panting weakly and urgently from exhaustion. Although it had collapsed from being hunted, its antlers, its glossy red fur, and its elegant, sturdy body were all beautiful and magnificent.

Mikhail knelt beside the creature. The creature, breathing heavily, stared at Mikhail silently, as if it had already accepted its fate. Mikhail drew the dagger, the only weapon he carried on his person, and mercifully slit its throat in one stroke.

Vibrant red blood surged from the wound like wine. Mikhail quenched his burning thirst with the hot red blood and soothed his terrible hunger by taking out the creature’s liver. It was a magnificent meal that could not be compared to any expensive wine or delicacy.

It was a full ten days after he had left for the hunt when Mikhail returned, carrying the giant stag on his shoulder. A soldier on the watchtower of the outer castle’s main gate spotted Mikhail’s return first and announced the news. Several knights training at the Castilla outer castle, which easily accommodated thousands of private soldiers, immediately mounted their horses and rode out to greet Mikhail.

The state Mikhail was in when greeted by the knights was not something to behold. His shirt, originally white, had completely lost its original color, stained with green grass, dust, and blood, and was torn in places, making it little more than rags; his pants were in the same condition.

It would have been better if he had worn leather armor, but when Mikhail went on such hunts, he always wore only a light shirt and pants, along with high-quality leather shoes and a single dagger.

Such attire was unthinkable for hunting a giant, wild stag during mating season, which could kill instantly with a single headbutt or kick, but the hunter was none other than Duke Mikhail Castilla. He belonged to the Alpha race, which was entirely different from ordinary humans—capable, if determined, of beating to death not only a red deer but also a bear weighing hundreds of kilograms with his bare hands.

Mikhail threw the deer he had been carrying on his shoulder to the ground. The massive body, weighing 200kg, hit the floor with a thud. Although it had been prey he chased for five full days, to Mikhail, who had finished the ultimate meal with freshly sprayed blood and a hot liver, it now held no more value than a large lump of meat. As always, the deer would become the evening meal for the private soldiers training at the outer castle.

Passing through the outer wall surrounded by heavy fortifications and entering the inner castle, a luxurious and beautiful garden and mansion appeared—a stark contrast to the military fortress feel of the outer walls. The gardeners and servants, seeing their master dressed in rags and covered in blood and dust, bowed their heads nonchalantly, as if they were well-accustomed to the sight.

As he stepped through the doors of the mansion, a servant who had been waiting upon receiving word held out a basin. When he dipped his hands in, the clear, transparent water was instantly clouded with crimson blood and floating bits of fur. After a cursory scrub and drying his hands with a cloth, they were reasonably clean, but the white fabric was left stained with reddish-brown blotches.

“Mikhail.”

Someone called Mikhail’s name from beneath the high, arched ceiling. Descending the wide, sturdy oak stairs was a handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes, Count Ilya Basari. Upon seeing Ilya, Mikhail frowned visibly. His expression was one of blatant annoyance and irritation.

“Are you out of your mind, abandoning the Emperor’s envoy to roll around in the forest for ten days?”

Regardless of Mikhail’s scowl, Ilya spoke in a reproaching tone the moment he reached the bottom of the stairs. And for good reason; the moment Mikhail had received the report that the Emperor’s envoy had reached the outer gates, he had set off alone on a hunt with nothing but a single dagger. To anyone, it was clearly intentional.

“Ten whole days. Ten! To make an envoy carrying the Emperor’s command wait for ten days just for a hunt—unless you’re determined to be summoned back to the Imperial Palace again.”

Mikhail acted as if he were barely listening to Ilya, shrugging off his tattered upper garment and tossing it to a servant. A beautifully muscular upper body that would make anyone admire it was revealed, but it was as filthy as the shirt he had just removed, leaving no desire to touch or caress it.

“Just what kind of creature were you chasing this time that it took ten days?”

Having stopped his reprimand, Ilya asked with a curious look. In truth, as if the previous scolding had been mere formality, Ilya’s face showed no sign of the anxiety one might expect when a Duke keeps an envoy waiting for over ten days.

“It was a magnificent one.”

The thrill and pleasure of the moment he discovered the prey while wandering deep in the forest. The anticipation that sent shivers through his entire body throughout the chase. And finally, the moment he sat beside the creature that had collapsed in surrender, placing a hand on its pitifully panting body and mercifully ending its breath. The raw taste of red blood and the vibrant life force of a hot liver.

Mikhail’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if savoring every sensation and pleasure of that moment. Seeing the deep satisfaction emanating from that expression, Ilya didn’t ask further, as if he could guess.

“Everyone knows your temperament, so they likely endured waiting for ten days, but now that you’re back, we can’t keep the envoy waiting any longer. Now, go and do something about that appearance of yours.”

Ilya waved his hand dismissively, looking as if he were worried that stains or dust might transfer to his own clothes.

Even after hearing the news that Mikhail had finally returned to the castle, the Emperor’s envoy had to wait another half-day before he could finally step into the audience chamber. Fitting for the massive scale of the castle, the audience chamber boasted a size and splendor that rivaled the Imperial Palace.

Having rested leisurely for half a day, Mikhail greeted the Emperor’s envoy while sitting crookedly in his chair. As a Dominant Alpha—standing out even among Alphas who possessed bodies and lifespans two to three times longer than humans—Mikhail suppressed the other’s spirit with an overwhelming presence just by sitting still.

“I greet His Grace, Duke Castilla.”

The envoy managed to walk forward with a steady gait and paid his respects. He was trying very hard to remain composed, but his face was pale and his voice trembled slightly. In particular, the moment he looked up and met Mikhail’s eyes, his knees buckled slightly, and he wavered.

Duke Mikhail Castilla was a breathtakingly beautiful man, as Dominant Alphas often were. With features so exquisite they left one speechless upon first meeting, slightly disheveled black hair, and cold grey eyes, he seemed almost inhuman, enough to take one’s breath away. Had the envoy been a poet, he could have written hundreds of poems praising the beauty of Duke Castilla on the spot.

The Duke was flawless in appearance, physique, and every other regard. If there was one flaw, it was his personality, which was notoriously foul throughout the country.

The grey eyes staring at the envoy, who stood dazed and overwhelmed by Mikhail’s looks and charisma, were extremely cold and laced with deep irritation. It felt as though he might reach out and snap the man’s neck the moment he said or did something annoying.

The problem was that with Duke Mikhail Castilla’s strength, he could do more than just snap an envoy’s neck with his bare hands; he could tear the head and limbs from the body. Fortunately, since the man was an envoy carrying the orders of none other than the Emperor, even someone as exclusive, violent, and famously ill-tempered as Mikhail would not be able to harm him.

“Right. What is it this time?”

Mikhail asked, resting his elbow on the armrest and leaning his chin on his hand. It was a far too insolent way to ask what the Emperor’s command was, but the envoy did not take offense. As was typical among Alpha brothers, the relationship between the Emperor and Duke Castilla was so bad that “toxic” was the only word that fit. The mere fact that the phrase “that bastard” didn’t precede “What is it this time” was enough to judge that Duke Castilla was in a relatively good mood.

“It is a command for you to visit the Imperial Palace immediately, as there are urgent matters to discuss.”

“I’m not going.”

Mikhail cut him off the moment the envoy finished speaking. However, the man was not the Emperor’s envoy for nothing. He spoke immediately.

“This is the command of His Imperial Majesty.”

When he spoke in a deliberately solemn tone, Mikhail let out an irritated laugh, baring his teeth slightly.

“You don’t actually think I’ll come just because he tells me to, and you know there’s a separate message for when I refuse. Stop wasting words and just say it. Before I rip out that slender Adam’s apple of yours.”

Gulp.

This time, the envoy couldn’t help but swallow hard. The sound of him swallowing through a dry throat was so loud it could be heard across the vast audience chamber.

Having endured one round with Duke Mikhail Castilla, he had done enough. The envoy quickly uttered the Emperor’s second command. Just as Duke Castilla had said, the Emperor knew his brother, who hated him dreadfully, would not respond to the summons; he had simply intended to provoke his temper before giving the real order. Whether the envoy’s life hung by a thread in the process was not something the Emperor cared about.

“The Castilla estate is not only the widest and most fertile in the Empire but also a crucial military stronghold. Since Your Grace, who governs such an important territory, has no heir, this is not merely a personal matter but a matter of national importance. Therefore, His Majesty commands that you stop delaying and hasten to produce an heir.”

It was immediately apparent that Mikhail’s mood, which had been relatively good, had plummeted. Before Mikhail could speak, the envoy hurriedly added:

“One year. His Majesty conveys that if you fail to produce an heir within exactly one year from today, considering the gravity of the matter, you will be summoned to the Imperial Palace, where His Majesty will personally arrange a match to ensure an heir is produced.”

“…That lunatic.”

A curse finally escaped Mikhail’s lips. If anyone reported this to the Emperor, it would be grounds for immediate beheading for insulting the monarch, but as a proper envoy, he was not a fool who would blindly report such a curse. Generally, ordinary humans found nothing good in intervening in the disputes or psychological warfare between Alphas. The envoy, working in the Imperial Palace, knew this better than anyone.

“His Imperial Majesty’s will is firm, so I earnestly request that Your Grace consider this carefully and ease His Majesty’s concerns.”

Having finished, the envoy bowed deeply and slowly backed away. Fortunately, Mikhail was so consumed by irritation and rage toward the Emperor that he didn’t even pay attention to the envoy. The envoy safely reached the doors of the audience chamber and fled as if running for his life. Since some of the envoys the Emperor had sent to Duke Castilla had ended up with fractured facial bones or multiple broken limbs, today’s envoy could be considered very lucky.

Mikhail’s mood, which had been high from a satisfying hunt, crashed instantly to the bottom of hell. As Mikhail stormed out, throwing open the heavy doors of the audience chamber as if to break them, the servants subtly moved out of his way or held their breath wherever he passed. Mikhail was not a master who went out of his way to harass or abuse his servants, but he wasn’t a generous master either. There was nothing to be gained from catching the eye of a foul-tempered Mikhail or annoying him.

“What did the envoy say to make your face look so rotten?”

Ilya appeared from somewhere and asked as he approached. It was a foregone conclusion that Mikhail’s irritation would explode after an envoy’s visit, but today it seemed even worse than usual.

“He says I should have an heir within a year.”

Mikhail spat out the words. Ilya raised an eyebrow with a ‘dear me’ expression. The Emperor, whose primary hobby was getting under his younger brother’s skin, had truly decided to stir up the hornet’s nest this time.

“And if I don’t, he’ll drag me to the palace and personally arrange a match to make sure I have one. That crazy bastard.”

Mikhail’s face grew fierce. He looked ready to pounce if the Emperor were right in front of him. In fact, during their childhood growing up together in the Imperial Palace, the Emperor and Mikhail had fought so violently whenever they met that it seemed as if one or both of them would die. While that was common among Alpha brothers, these two were extreme.

Ilya, walking beside Mikhail, glanced to the side. Through the window, he could see the envoy galloping away on his horse as if fleeing for his life. In truth, the Emperor’s envoy had not delivered a message only to Mikhail. The Emperor had also given a secret order to Count Ilya Basari: to assist Duke Castilla in ensuring he produced an heir within the given timeframe to achieve the result the Emperor desired.

‘He went too far this time.’

Ilya muttered to himself while looking at Mikhail’s menacing face.

Mikhail, one of the few Dominant Alphas on the continent, interestingly didn’t just dislike Omegas—he loathed them. For an Alpha who could not obtain a legitimate heir without an Omega, this was a highly problematic situation. For a long time, those around him had made exhaustive efforts to find an Omega who would please the Duke, but it was all in vain. Thus, the Emperor had found a way to torment Duke Castilla to the utmost while holding a legitimate justification.

Alphas, whose lifespans and physical abilities far exceeded those of ordinary humans, were in themselves important strategic assets and sources of power for a nation. Although it had been a long time since borders were clearly defined and major wars between nations had vanished after prolonged conflicts, the number of Alphas forming the high nobility was still a symbol of a country’s national power.

Therefore, to maintain national strength, high nobles had to leave an Alpha heir, and this was even more critical in the case of an exceptional Dominant Alpha. Thus, Mikhail, as a Dominant Alpha, had a grave duty to produce a legitimate heir, and unfortunately, he had no justification to refuse the Emperor’s command.

Regardless, if the intention had been simply to torment his brother, the Emperor would not have issued an order to Ilya as well.

Ilya was not of the imperial bloodline, but he was a full brother to Mikhail, sharing the same Omega mother. The two had grown up together, and unlike the relationship between the Emperor and Mikhail, they were very close as brothers and friends. The fact that the Emperor had secretly given a separate order to Ilya, who was perhaps the only one capable of influencing Mikhail, meant that apart from the pleasure of tormenting his brother, the Emperor’s will that Duke Castilla produce an heir could no longer be delayed.

“That guy calling himself the Emperor really has nothing better to do.”

Mikhail muttered as if chewing on the words. Ilya pushed the Emperor’s secret order out of his mind and shrugged his shoulders in agreement.

“What can you do? Tormenting you is one of his main hobbies. Besides, this time he has a perfectly splendid justification that you can’t wiggle out of. If you don’t produce an heir, he might actually drag you to the palace and force you to breed.”

“Damn bastard.”

Mikhail’s face looked fierce enough to stab the Emperor to death on the spot. It was a blessing that Castilla Castle was quite far from the Imperial Palace. With Mikhail this enraged, if the distance had been shorter, he would have run there in a single breath to throw a punch at the Emperor. Of course, the Emperor would have gladly engaged in a bloody brawl with his brother.

“Anyway, it’s an imperial command with a solid justification. Let’s at least bring an Omega into the castle to show you intend to follow the order. Wouldn’t that give you an excuse to keep delaying it?”

“An Omega? I feel nauseous just smelling them, let alone seeing their faces. Vermin who can’t do a single thing with their own hands, wandering here and there just to pop out brats and live off the rewards for the rest of their lives. Why should I mate with such useless things?”

Every word he spat out was steeped in deep loathing. The rumors that Duke Castilla extremely avoided and hated Omegas were not exaggerated at all; if anything, they had been understated.

At the words of blatant contempt, a troubled and complex expression appeared on Ilya’s face. This was because he knew where the contempt and hatred for Omegas held by Mikhail—his friend, his lord, and his full brother—originated.

“You have to leave an heir anyway, so think of it as getting a chore you hate over with.”

“I still have decades left to leave an heir.”

Mikhail was right. The lifespans of Alphas and Omegas were two to three times longer than those of ordinary humans, and since Mikhail was only just over fifty, he had at least another forty or fifty years before the ideal time to have an heir.

“It’s not as if every heir who is born grows up safely,” Ilya muttered in a slightly lower voice.

The Alpha race had a very barbaric and violent nature. In particular, young and inexperienced Alphas often died because they couldn’t suppress their temper and challenged stronger, more experienced Alphas, ran wild in wars, or fought over Omegas.

Yet, one couldn’t exactly keep a young Alpha chained at home. It was also true that only by surviving such trials could one grow into an Alpha worthy of recognition; thus, to properly secure a succession, one had to have at least two or three Alpha children to feel at ease.

“There are a few families that have recently suggested marriage matches. Why not at least look at their portraits? I’ll pick only the obedient and pretty Omegas from good families to show you,” Ilya suggested with a smile.

Mikhail glared at Ilya as if he were about to devour him. The muscles in his clenched jaw were visibly twitching.

An obedient and beautiful Omega from a good family.

Such a being would be impossible for any other Alpha to refuse, but Mikhail was different. Good family, obedient, beautiful, Omega. Every single word that came out of Ilya’s mouth would be utterly repulsive to Mikhail. Simply because they were an Omega.

Before Mikhail could say anything, Ilya made a gesture to stop him and nodded.

“Of course you’ll hate it. You’d hate anyone from anywhere, so let’s just pick an Omega with conditions that you’ll find slightly less horrific and bring them here.”

‘As if such a thing exists.’

Mikhail’s fierce gaze made his thoughts transparent.

Regardless, Ilya was the person closest to Mikhail and knew him best. Therefore, he knew the conditions of an Omega that Mikhail would find ‘slightly’—even by a tiny fraction—less repulsive.

“Since we have to bring an Omega into the castle anyway, I’ll take care of everything. Mikhail, you just…”

Ilya stopped there and swallowed the rest of his words.

‘Just quietly produce an heir with the Omega I bring.’

* * *

It was a certain autumn day when a luxurious carriage arrived at Duke Castilla’s castle. The wind had grown quite chilly, enough to make one pull their collar tight, but the sky was dazzlingly blue and beautiful. By the time the procession, accompanied by about a dozen armed soldiers in front and back, passed through the castle gates, a noisy crowd of onlookers had already gathered within the castle.

As the man leading the way brought his horse to a halt in the open space inside the castle gates, the entire procession stopped in unison. The man at the front leaped down from his horse. The imposing black stallion he had ridden neighed and shook its head.

“Count Basari.”

The man at the lead greeted the person standing in the center of those who had come to welcome the procession. A blond beauty with an aristocratic appearance evident at a single glance, Count Basari, responded with a slight nod.

“You’ve come in person, Marquis Lucius. Did you bring him safely?”

“Of course. He is my brother for now, so it is only right that I deliver him personally.”

The man who had led the procession, Marquis Andre Lucius, gestured toward the carriage. Seeing the gesture, an armed private soldier opened the carriage door. As the door of the carriage, decorated with luxurious and high-end fabric, opened, a white hand emerged from within. The onlookers grew restless, pushing one another to get a better look at the person stepping out.

Two people descended from the carriage. The first to step out, supported by another, possessed honey-soft, luscious blond hair and a beauty so striking it drew instinctive gasps of admiration. Wrapped in luxurious clothing, his flat chest revealed that he was a man.

He was the Omega that Count Basari had specifically sought out under the Emperor’s orders. Following him, another person stepped out; he had a small, thin frame that looked as if he had barely shed his boyhood, and his features were buried under frizzy brown hair devoid of any luster. Judging by his shabby appearance, he looked to be a valet or a general laborer.

“You’ve worked hard on the long journey, Nile.”

As if they were already acquainted, Ilya Basari greeted the blond beauty. The beauty called Nile accepted the greeting with a faint smile.

‘My god, he’s incomparably more beautiful than any Omega I’ve ever seen.’

‘Of course he is. He’s an Omega brought in after the famous House of Marquis Lucius was given an entire small estate in exchange. Shouldn’t he be the most beautiful person in the country?’

The castle workers whispered as they watched the newcomers. Most of the onlookers were Betas, but they were already half-entranced by the Omega’s intense beauty.

‘With a beauty like that, even the Duke might fall head over heels,’ one man muttered, looking dazed. Most of the men around him nodded with similar expressions.

‘No way. He won’t budge an inch. How many beauties of that caliber have come to the Duke for marriage proposals so far? Besides, that man is only a Marquis in name; in reality, he’s a bloodline of unknown origin bought as an adoptee by the House of Lucius just for his decent looks. And no matter how beautiful that Omega is, he doesn’t come close to His Grace the Duke. Would His Grace even spare a glance for an Omega uglier than himself?’

A young maid grumbled, glancing sharply at the man.

In truth, the maid’s words were not far from the mark. The House of Marquis Lucius was a family that had accumulated immense wealth by purchasing Omegas of low status but exceptional beauty and scent, adopting them, raising them with great care, and then selling them to high-ranking noble families for various gains. The current marquess, Marquis Andre Lucius, operated the family by inheriting the legacy of his predecessors intact. Because of this, many referred to Marquis Lucius by the nickname “The Empire’s Slave Trader.”

The man snorted upon hearing the maid’s words.

‘So what if he was bought as an adoptee to be sold? Just look at his clothes. My whole family could live for months on the cost of a single outfit like that. And look at the jewelry wrapped around him. Selling just one piece would be enough to buy a whole house. Omegas who are halfway decent are treated like noble ladies even if they are sold for money. Have you ever seen an Omega like that eating coarse food or wearing rough clothes?’

The young maid bit her lower lip. Her eyes were filled with envy and jealousy. As the man said, a beautiful Omega’s treatment was guaranteed, whether they were sold for political gain or money. The reasons were only two: that they were beautiful, and that they could bear an Alpha heir for an Alpha.

‘It’s so unfair,’ the young maid muttered with eyes full of jealousy. No one disputed those words; they all wore expressions of agreement. However, no one was truly indignant. These were Alphas and Omegas—people under the same sky, yet never the same kind of people. Even if they were right before their eyes, they did not belong to the same world.

While Count Ilya Basari and the blond Omega, Nile Lucius, exchanged brief greetings, the brown-haired youth who had stepped out of the carriage with him hesitated, not knowing what to do, and clung closely behind Nile. Ilya Basari, who had been talking to Nile, looked at the brown-haired youth with a puzzled expression.

“That fellow is…”

Seeing Ilya’s puzzled look, Marquis Andre Lucius grabbed the scruff of the brown-haired youth, who was practically hiding behind Nile, and dragged him out. The Marquis’s grip was so rough that the brown-haired youth, unable to withstand the force, collapsed onto the ground.

“Stand up straight.”

Marquis Lucius violently hauled up the person he had practically slammed into the dirt. The brown-haired youth staggered as he barely managed to stand. Seeing this, Nile hurriedly pulled the brown-haired youth to his side as if to protect him.

“This child is my valet. He is someone I have kept by my side for a long time, so I do not wish to be parted from him.”

As if the concentrated gaze on him was burdensome, the brown-haired youth’s head sank low. Ilya Basari scanned the youth’s shabby appearance for a moment and wore a troubled expression.

“All castle workers must undergo a thorough identity verification. It would be better to leave that fellow behind, Nile. There are many skilled and clever servants here, so I will assign you a new one that you like as much as possible.”

It sounded like a suggestion, but it was effectively a notification. Nile looked at the brown-haired youth hiding behind him and bit his lip. He then sent a desperate look toward Marquis Lucius. Receiving that gaze, Marquis Lucius frowned as if annoyed, then spoke.

“That one is a Beta born of Nile’s biological mother. He insisted on staying together since they are siblings from the same womb, so I just kept him around to do chores. He looks like that, but he doesn’t know how to be lazy and keeps his mouth shut, making him perfect for odd jobs, so let him stay. Isn’t it better to have more hands?”

Nile pushed the small, shaggy-haired youth even closer behind him, as if they could not be separated. Ilya looked as if something useless had tagged along, but he nodded as if he had no choice but to yield to the stubbornness of a precious Omega who was to bear the Duke’s heir.

Count Ilya Basari took a sealed scroll from his breast and handed it to the Marquis. It was the deed to a small but fertile estate. It was Nile’s price. Once Marquis Lucius verified the document and nodded, Count Ilya Basari gestured behind him. Two knights placed a large metal chest in front of the Marquis.

“In addition, this is a modest token of gratitude from His Grace Duke Castilla.”

Marquis Lucius had it loaded into the carriage without checking the contents. The contents were obvious; it was likely filled with gold coins.

“Since it is the Duke’s sincerity, I shall accept it. If His Grace finds Nile unsatisfactory, feel free to visit again at any time. The House of Lucius has many beautiful and exceptional children.”

Marquis Lucius smiled, curling one side of his mouth to reveal his teeth. At the vile smile of the man called the Empire’s slave trader, a hint of displeasure appeared in the corners of Count Basari’s eyes, but it was only for a moment. The Count nodded, and Marquis Lucius’s party left the castle with the large chest full of gold coins.

“Now, now. All of you, get back to your work.”

Count Basari drove away the onlookers surrounding them. Those who had sufficiently admired Nile’s appearance dispersed in small groups toward their workplaces with lingering regrets.

“Then, shall we go inside?”

Count Basari politely invited Nile with a smiling face. He was a beautiful and healthy Omega brought in at a high price. Unless it was a matter of personal sexual preference, there was rarely any reason to intentionally abuse or mistreat such a person. This was especially true since he was the one to bear the heir to the Dukedom.

Nile Lucius was assigned quarters. He was given a luxurious room with plenty of sunlight and maids to serve him. He had nothing specific to do. He simply had to diligently groom himself and enjoy a prosperous and comfortable daily life. If he bore the Duke’s heir, it would be a good thing; if he remained unchosen by the Duke or failed to produce an heir after a certain period, he would be sold elsewhere again, just as he had been brought here, or sent as a gift to someone.

Within a few days, Nile’s presence blended seamlessly into the castle, and the small, brown-haired youth who had followed Nile faded from the memories of the castle people until he vanished completely.

* * *

“Uh, uh, uh. Not today.”

Ilya popped out like a ghost from a turning corner. The gray eyes looking at Ilya, who blocked his path, turned ice-cold. When a chill swept through those gray eyes that already looked cold and detached even when still, the pressure felt from being stared at was enough to make one flinch. However, far from being shaken, Ilya extended his hand to the side, blocking the path more firmly.

“Have dinner with Nile tonight. You have to face him first before you can have sex or make a child, right?”

“Don’t do useless things. Even if it’s you, I’m starting to feel like landing a blow on you.”

“Ah, of course, if you don’t want to waste time dining and talking as if you’re scouting a marriage partner, I can just push him straight into the bedroom. That would be much more convenient for me as well.”

“Move.”

Mikhail spoke with menacing eyes. It was a look that suggested he might strike at any moment. It wasn’t a simple threat. As Alphas generally are, Mikhail had no hesitation in using physical strength far superior to that of an ordinary human. Especially since he had grown up fighting and scrapping with his half-brother Ilya since childhood, neither of them hesitated to throw a punch even now.

“Another messenger from His Majesty arrived this afternoon,” Ilya said, grabbing Mikhail’s arm as he tried to brush past. Irritation immediately filled the gray eyes.

“So you have to at least pretend to make an effort.”

“I’d rather sit across from a pig for dinner.”

“Look, Mikhail. Nile is your property, brought from the House of Marquis Lucius for a fair price. Once the price is paid, that side doesn’t interfere at all, so as long as you don’t get bored and sell him off again, he’ll belong to you until he dies. Unless you wish otherwise, he’s someone who won’t have to wander through various families bearing children. That’s why we chose an Omega from the House of Lucius instead of negotiating marriage with a prestigious family.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t give off a filthy scent.”

“It’s His Majesty’s order. You should at least pretend to obey.”

Instead of persuading Mikhail, Ilya repeatedly threw out the fact that it was the Emperor’s command.

As had been the case until now, this matter was an order from the Emperor to his half-brother that was half-joke and half-teasing, but it was nonetheless an official imperial decree. Those in power are sensitive to authority. If a subordinate defies an order, playfulness quickly turns into vigilance and anger. This was especially true if that subordinate was one of the few Dominant Alphas and a brother who held the succession rank to the throne second only to the Emperor’s own son.

After glaring at Ilya for a moment, Mikhail nodded with a dissatisfied face.

“Then, shall we go to dinner, Your Grace?”

With a theatrical, exaggerated gesture, Ilya turned in the direction they needed to go and cleared the way.

The place Mikhail was guided to had two chairs facing each other around a small table that would be full if four or five people sat around it, and beside it was a bed decorated in a meaningful and special manner. After checking the interior, Mikhail turned around immediately to leave without a moment’s hesitation. However, he failed in his intent because Ilya, who was behind him, quickly closed the door and locked it from the outside.

“Aren’t you opening the door? Do you want to die, Ilya Basari?”

He pushed the closed door while threatening menacingly, but the firmly locked door did not budge. Chewing on curses in his mouth, Mikhail eventually turned back toward the interior.

Beyond the perfectly set table stood a person. He was a stunning beauty with honey-soft blond hair and blue eyes. His frame was relatively petite, but the flat chest beneath his clothes and a silhouette entirely different from a woman’s revealed that he was male. No, he was not an ordinary male, but an Omega emitting a strong, characteristic pheromone.

The blond man, Nile, looked quite nervous. With both hands clasped and hanging down, his face was slightly flushed as he gazed at Duke Castilla.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Nile…”

“Don’t speak.”

The person who had cautiously opened his mouth tried to introduce himself, but Mikhail cut him off.

“Your Grace…”

Nile called the Duke with bewildered eyes.

“I told you not to open that mouth because you smell disgusting.”

Speaking in a contemptuous tone, Mikhail raised his arm to cover his nose and mouth with his sleeve, frowning. His face looked as if he had smelled a sewer. Confused, Nile buried his nose in his clothes to check the scent. All his sense of smell caught was the scent of sweet perfume.

The body scent of the bewildered Nile grew thicker. Nile’s body was instinctively reacting to the Dominant Alpha before him. The small room was soon filled with a thick pheromone fragrance. Mikhail’s face distorted like a monster.

“Nauseating.”

Spitting the words out, Mikhail took off his upper garment entirely, rolled it up, and blocked his nose. Then he turned and kicked the closed door with all his might.

Bang! Bang!

The thick, sturdy door crumpled slightly with every kick, and after five or six times, the thick iron nails and hinges embedded in the door tore away, and the door broke. At that immense strength and utterly violent display, Nile retreated to the corner of the room with a terrified face.

Crash!

Finally, a hole was punched through one side of the thick wooden door. Mikhail reached his hand through the hole and unlocked the door. Bang! He kicked the door open and stormed out of the room. Watching Mikhail’s retreating back, Nile slid down to the floor. Those who had gathered to see what the loud noise was, seeing the broken door, Nile sitting inside terrified, and Mikhail’s back receding with rough strides, clicked their tongues as if they had expected as much.

“Filthy things.”

Having left the room filled with the Omega’s scent, Mikhail muttered with contemptuous eyes. As he moved his long strides quickly, even the faint scent completely vanished. Having completely escaped the influence of the scent that awakened intense instincts, Mikhail immediately threw the bundle of clothes that had been blocking his nose and mouth into a corner of the hallway. Grind. The sound of teeth grinding viciously leaked through his lips.

“Disgusting breed.”

Muttering words of hatred once more, his footsteps led him to the study. As he opened the large door and entered, the characteristic scent of books immediately washed his olfactory senses clean. After taking a deep breath of the smell of parchment and leather, Mikhail’s expression relaxed considerably.

The study, one of the main boasts of Castilla Castle, boasted an enormous scale. It possessed almost every rare book collected from across the continent, and since he had the caretaker replenish the books regularly, it was as good as, if not better than, the Imperial Library. Because of this, many nobles coveted and envied this study.

In truth, Mikhail wasn’t particularly obsessed with books. It could be said that this was one of the areas where the strong possessiveness characteristic of an Alpha was manifested. Regardless, Mikhail quite liked this study, the crystallization of his possessiveness. Especially since no intruders ever entered this place.

The study, one of the largest in the Empire, was so vast that the word “library” was more fitting. Not only were the walls and ceiling packed with books, but high bookshelves blocked all four sides.

Tables, sofas, and chairs were placed in the spaces between, allowing one to tuck themselves away anywhere and devote themselves to reading. Unless it was a time when he wanted to immerse himself in reading, Mikhail used this place as a space to drink or lounge around without anyone’s interference.

In a hidden corner of the forest of massive, intricately arranged bookshelves, there was a cozy space used for such purposes. Surrounded by bookshelves so that no outside gaze could reach it, the area was equipped with a table, expensive liquor, and a sofa long enough for the exceptionally tall Mikhail to lie down comfortably.

Seeking out his own space to shake off the unpleasantness of a moment ago, Mikhail suddenly frowned. In a corner of his private sanctuary—a place difficult to find unless one scoured every inch of the library—a brown ball of fur was curled up.

At first glance, he thought a dog had wandered in and curled up there. But upon closer inspection, it was not a dog. It was a human with disheveled brown hair and shabby clothes.

The creature, curled up tight like a ball, was visibly very small. The common brown hair lacked any luster and was so messy that it obscured the face, making it easy to mistake for dog fur at a glance.

Had he recognized the intruder as human at first sight, he would not have let someone who dared trespass in his space go unpunished, but because he mistook them for a dog, his reaction was delayed. At the thought that he had momentarily mistaken a person for a dog, Mikhail observed the creature with his arms crossed instead of shouting or grabbing the hair to throw them onto the floor.

Looking closer, the brown ball of fur wasn’t simply curled up in a corner of the library. A thick book was spread open beneath them, and the creature was huddled tight, eyes glued to the pages.

The vast library, where entry was strictly forbidden to anyone other than the administrator, was profoundly silent. Consequently, the sound of the small brown ball of fur’s breathing reached Mikhail’s ears. Despite Mikhail standing right there in plain sight, the absurd intruder, completely immersed in the book, was breathing in shallow huffs. The sound was so thin and fragile that he wondered if survival was even possible with such small, timid breaths.

The creature’s clothes were utterly shabby. Despite the rather chilly weather, they wore nothing more than a couple of thin layers, and the pants were so short that their ankles and lower calves were fully exposed, even considering the curled-up posture. The top was similar; between the frizzy brown hair that nearly covered the face, neck, and shoulders, the nape and shoulder blades peeked through.

Having finished observing the insolent intruder, Mikhail was about to call out to them when he paused. The nape of the neck, slightly visible through the brown hair, strangely caught his gaze and wouldn’t let go. On the nape, of which only about two knuckles’ width was visible, the spinal vertebrae stood out. And the exposed skin was not just white, but pale.

Mikhail lowered his gaze again. Then, the ankles, clearly exposed beneath the ragged, hiked-up hems of the pants, struck him. As thin as the small body, the ankles were so bony that they looked as if they would snap with a slight grip. And like the nape, they were not just snow-white, but pale.

Mikhail’s cold gray eyes flickered between the ankles and the nape several times. Had he ever seen such a color before? Probably not. Human skin tones were diverse, and he had occasionally seen skin that was chillingly white or pale. Yet, he couldn’t fathom why his gaze was drawn to it as if seeing it for the first time.

How long had he been admiring the sight? The creature, who had been curled up without moving as if dead, carefully turned a page. Turning the page with extreme caution as if fearing it might be stained or creased, the creature didn’t immediately lower their hand but instead scratched their lusterless, dry hair.

Then, a remarkably unique scent bloomed, stimulating Mikhail’s sense of smell—a scent he hadn’t noticed until now. It was a strong, thick herbal scent, so potent that just smelling it left a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

“Hey.”

Mikhail nudged the brown ball of fur’s thigh with the tip of his foot.

The reaction came a beat late. The tightly curled body shrank even further, followed by a sharp intake of breath—hup. The creature remained motionless for a moment, as if they had fainted in that very position.

“I said, hey.”

When Mikhail nudged them again with his toe, the stiffened head moved slowly, very slowly, toward the foot that had touched them. Upon discovering Mikhail’s foot, the creature gasped sharply once more—hup! Then, a beat later, their gaze traveled upward, starting from Mikhail’s foot.

The speed at which the gaze climbed—from toe to ankle, calf, thigh, and waist—was so slow it was almost enough to make him yawn. Yet, in the meantime, the shoulders began to tremble violently, accompanied by small, ragged breaths… It was quite a sight. As the gaze climbed higher, a tiny face buried in the brown, shaggy hair gradually revealed itself.

The creature’s chin was as white as the nape and calves. Because of the frizzy hair draped over the face like a curtain, almost nothing of the face was visible except for the chin. However, one thing—the reddish lips that contrasted sharply with the pale skin—clearly asserted its presence.

Mikhail intentionally deepened his scowl. He had never once been a generous master to his subordinates. He dealt out exceptionally harsh punishments as examples to those who dared touch his possessions. To simply nudge a lowly creature who had dared trespass here and arbitrarily touch and enjoy his books, instead of immediately kicking them or throwing them out the window, would be a significant stain on the notoriety he had built.

“How dare a lowly thing come here—”

As he spoke in an angry voice, the creature, who had been frozen like a mouse meeting a cat, suddenly began to roll away in their curled-up posture, scurrying off.

It was a nimble movement. He didn’t know where such strength came from in that small, thin body. Regardless, the creature practically rolled past Mikhail’s side and then dashed away in a half-crawling position. Mikhail, who tried to snatch the fleeing creature a beat too late, soon stopped moving.

Preoccupied with escaping, the creature ran without looking ahead and slammed their head into a bookshelf, tumbling over. The sound of the small body hitting the hard, massive bookshelf was so loud that he wondered if their head had actually shattered.

But that wasn’t the case. Letting out a small groan, the creature sprang up and scurried away again. The speed wasn’t so fast that they couldn’t be caught, but it was so absurd and baffling that Mikhail let out a hollow laugh, not even thinking of chasing them.

Instead of pursuing the creature, Mikhail picked up the book the ball of fur had been reading. The expensive book, decorated with gold and silver leaf, was filled with illustrations and descriptions of all sorts of rare plants and herbs. He couldn’t understand why they had been so focused on a book with zero entertainment value.

As he closed the open book, the unique and bitter herbal scent felt strong. It was likely the scent left behind by that ball of fur. Inhaling the scent lingering faintly in the air, Mikhail looked in the direction the creature had run. Seeing as they had trespassed and settled in the least conspicuous corner, this wasn’t their first time. The creature would definitely return.

* * *

Recently, Mikhail’s visits to the library became very frequent, to the point where he entered almost every day. His primary goal was to avoid Ilya’s interference. Since the library, containing expensive and rare books, could not be entered by anyone without the owner Mikhail’s permission, it was the optimal place to hide from annoying pestering.

Of course, if it were simply to avoid annoying tasks, there were many other places to go besides the library. He could ride a horse to a cabin deep in the hunting grounds, or lead an army as a mercenary to a place where a territorial war had broken out to stretch his limbs and earn money. Nevertheless, there was another reason he visited the library daily. It was to catch the insolent and secretive intruder.

Mikhail’s prediction that the creature would trespass in the library again was exactly correct. The brown ball of fur was indeed sneaking into the library regularly, every two or three days. The bitter scent lingering in the air proved the visits.

However, perhaps because of the previous time they were caught by Mikhail, the visits were carried out very secretly and cautiously, so they never encountered each other. Mikhail didn’t keep his visit times consistent and would barge in unexpectedly, yet he still failed to find the ball of fur.

The ball of fur was an incredibly sensitive and cautious creature. And on the other hand, they were unbelievably bold. While avoiding all the surprise visits intended to catch them, they still visited every two or three days to satisfy their greed.

With the ghost-like senses characteristic of a Dominant Alpha, Mikhail discovered the traces of the visits. The creature would sneak in, curl up in a corner, and only leave after reading a whole book. The books they mainly read were botanical guides, herbal guides, and zoological guides.

After pulling a book out and reading it, they returned it exactly to its place without leaving a single trace, but they couldn’t completely evade Mikhail’s eyes. On the sixth visit, the creature finally left a single strand of that frizzy, dog-fur-like brown hair between the pages of the book they had been reading. Having secured perfect evidence, Mikhail wore a triumphant smile while holding the brown hair.

For the first month or so, the act of barging in unexpectedly or searching for the creature’s secret traces to catch this insolent and baffling intruder was quite manageable. No, rather than just manageable, it should be said that it was quite fun. But as time passed, he began to feel genuinely irritated.

“What on earth is that, that you’re staring at it every day?”

Ilya asked with curious eyes. Sitting crookedly in his chair, staring intently at the brown hair pinched between his fingers, Mikhail waved his hand as if telling him to get lost instead of answering. It was an excessively curt gesture to make toward a close friend, a half-brother, and a trusted subordinate, but Ilya, who was well-accustomed to Mikhail’s foul personality, merely shrugged.

Mikhail stared at the hair for a while longer before carefully placing it inside a box on the desk. Then, he closed the lid and approached the window.

Castilla Castle was enormous, combining the outer castle—with its heavy, high walls surrounding low hills—and the inner castle, which surrounded the citadel and the lavish mansion. The outer castle contained training grounds and quarters for thousands of private soldiers, as well as dwellings for the servants living in the castle; once inside the inner castle, the lord’s magnificent gardens and mansion began. Castilla Castle was more suited to be called a fortified city than a typical castle.

Because of its scale, the number of people working in the inner castle alone was considerable. There were hundreds of servants and maids whose faces and names he didn’t know. Right now, below the window, there were at least twenty workers walking briskly, attending to their late-morning duties.

Previously, he would have regarded them as mere scenery and paid them no mind, but now it was different. Mikhail was checking every single worker who entered his field of vision. More than half of those who caught his eye had common brown hair. However, it wasn’t difficult to distinguish the brown ball of fur among them. Even among brown hair, the shapes and hues were all different. This time, too, the creature was not visible.

“He’s a very cautious one,” Mikhail muttered, looking out the window.

The fact that they sneaked into the library regularly meant the creature definitely resided in the inner castle. Judging by the attire, they were likely some sort of odd-job worker. No matter how cautious they were, they would have to move around the castle if they had assigned tasks. Therefore, Mikhail checked his surroundings from time to time, and this had now become a habit to the point where he had to turn his head to check if it was the ball of fur whenever he saw anything brown in the periphery of his vision.

“Ilya.”

Ilya approached the window as if he had been waiting. Mikhail spoke while carefully scanning every corner of the scenery outside.

“Among those working in the inner castle, have you seen anyone small with frizzy brown hair and a very white face?”

At the abrupt question, Ilya raised an eyebrow.

“A brown-haired servant? There are plenty of those. Those with white faces and small frames aren’t uncommon either; you’d find a fair few if you looked. But why the sudden interest?”

Intrigued by the unexpected question from Mikhail, who had zero interest in those around him, especially the subordinates, Ilya pressed for more. But instead of answering Ilya’s question, Mikhail continued speaking as if to himself, his eyes narrowed.

“A creature with a tiny face, skin so white it’s pale, and reddish lips. The hair is so frizzy that the texture would probably feel terrible to the touch. Small in height and build, so thin that the ankles look like they’d break if touched wrong, and the spinal vertebrae are fully exposed when they bow their head. And the body scent is very unique—a bitter herbal scent so strong that just smelling it makes the inside of the mouth taste bitter.”

Ilya looked at Mikhail, who was detailing someone in a manner that blurred the line between a monologue and a conversation, with a skeptical expression. Regardless, Mikhail continued, his gaze fixed outside the window.

“Judging by the miserably shabby clothes, they probably aren’t a regular servant. Likely someone shoved in a corner doing odd jobs. Since the clothes are so small that the ankles are fully exposed, it seems they aren’t in a position to afford clothes that fit.”

Having said that much, Mikhail paused. Ilya gave him a bewildered look, but whether Mikhail ignored it or truly didn’t notice, he muttered again with narrowed eyes.

“…Or perhaps they wear small clothes on purpose to show off those supple ankles.”

Ilya, who had been staring with his mouth slightly open in disbelief, finally let out a hollow laugh upon hearing that mutter. A frizzy brown-haired servant wearing small, shabby clothes in this chilly weather just to show their ankles to others. What an absurd thing to say.

But regardless of Ilya’s laughter, Mikhail did not stop his monologue.

“Judging by the fact that it’s a scent I’ve never smelled before, it’s not a commonly used herb.”

“Should I tell them to find him?” Ilya asked.

Everyone working within Castilla Castle, down to the lowliest odd-job worker, underwent thorough background checks. Since there were those who managed the workers, it wouldn’t be difficult to find them if an order was given. And Mikhail would be well aware of that fact.

Ilya studied Mikhail with suspicious eyes. Mikhail opened his mouth as if to answer, but soon shook his head. Then, with a slight frown, he muttered while scanning the workers passing by.

“No. I’ll find that brat myself.”

As he spoke, Mikhail’s eyes flashed sharply, filled with a hint of excitement, anticipation, and restlessness, like a predator chasing prey that wouldn’t easily be caught.

“Suit yourself.”

He must be really bored lately, Ilya muttered to himself and shrugged.

“If you’re bored, why not go hunting? I’ve been cooped up for a while, and my body is itching for it.”

Ilya suggested, cracking his neck. Alphas possessed such strong animal instincts that if they didn’t periodically release their overflowing energy, it became problematic in many ways—whether through hunting, war, or sex. Since he had been quiet for a few days, Mikhail was likely feeling restless as well. However, instead of springing up as usual, Mikhail simply continued to obsessively scrutinize the workers passing below the window.

I’ve seen everything in my life, Ilya muttered inwardly, and he too fixed his gaze below the window. Just as Mikhail had said, there were workers with various shades of brown hair everywhere.

Small face, pale skin, red lips. Frizzy brown hair, thin body. A shabby-looking odd-job worker.

It was simultaneously very common and not common at all. Mikhail was a master who was ruthlessly cold to his servants, but he was exceptionally generous when it came to paying for their work. Those employed in the castle never had to worry about their families starving, and they had sufficient means to dress according to the season. Of course, he wouldn’t allow them to wear clothes so wretched that they would diminish the prestige of Duke Castilla.

“A frizzy brown-haired worker in clothes so shabby that the ankles are exposed… Maybe outside the castle, but there’s no way there’s a worker in such a pitiful state in the inner castle… wait…”

Muttering thoughtlessly, Ilya suddenly trailed off as a certain scene flashed through his mind. It felt as though he had seen something similar in a faint, distant corner of his memory.

‘That was, uh…’

The memory was on the tip of his tongue. Ilya furrowed his brow, struggling to grasp the elusive recollection. For someone like Ilya, who rarely forgot anything, this was a rare experience.

After struggling for a while, Ilya finally relaxed his brow.

Ah! That fellow who had come along with Nile back then. He hadn’t looked closely, but the guy had a shabby, wretched appearance and coarse, brown, shaggy hair. A thin and small frame. He was a Beta, born from Nile’s biological mother, if he recalled correctly.

Considering he had seen him right in front of his eyes not long ago, yet had to dig through his memories for so long, the fellow must have had an incredibly faint presence. Then again, it made sense; Ilya had never once thought about him since the moment he first saw him. He had completely forgotten that such a person even existed. The one Mikhail was looking for was definitely that fellow. There was no one else in this castle who walked around looking like that.

“He—”

Ilya opened his mouth to reveal the identity of the person he had pictured, but then he clamped it shut again.

Given Mikhail’s personality, he should have left Castilla Castle long ago to escape the Emperor’s pressure and Nile’s presence—whether for hunting or war. Ilya had even taken several measures to ensure he could catch Mikhail should he leave abruptly. But surprisingly, Mikhail seemed to have no intention of leaving the castle, which was highly unexpected. Now, the reason had been revealed. Mikhail was currently obsessed with chasing that faint, wretched-looking Beta.

This was very amusing, and also extremely useful.

Watching Mikhail obsessively search for the fellow would be great entertainment, and not only would it ensure he didn’t leave the castle, but the fellow would also serve as an excellent pretext to bring Mikhail and Nile closer together.

“Well, happy hunting.”

Ilya gave Mikhail a pat on the shoulder with a meaningful smile.

Clack. A flash of brown caught the edge of his vision. Even though he realized in an instant that the hue was different from the other’s, he couldn’t help but look. To his disappointment, it was just a servant with a completely different appearance. Receiving Mikhail’s gaze, the servant bowed his head with a flustered expression and hurried away.

As Mikhail began walking again, gazes clung to him. Everyone looked at Mikhail—who scoured the entire castle from time to time like a soldier on patrol—with strange eyes. In particular, the laborers and servants froze like mice encountering a cat whenever Mikhail passed by or caught their eye, not knowing what to do. It was likely due to Mikhail’s notorious reputation, which they had heard about from various sources.

Regardless of the clinging gazes, Mikhail continued to wander the castle. At a glance, it looked like a leisurely stroll, but upon closer inspection, it was anything but. His eyes, which seemed to be looking straight ahead indifferently, were sharpened to find prey, and his steps were akin to those of a predator ready to pounce at any moment.

Prey and hunter. A time of chasing and being chased, as if only the two of them existed in the world. The thrill of tracking a presence by focusing all senses solely on the prey.

Mikhail, who was now obsessively searching for the fellow’s traces, felt exactly as if he were on such a hunt. The excitement, expectation, and anxiety of searching for the faint traces of a cunningly hidden prey. The longer the tracking took and the longer the period of patience, the more intense the pleasure of finally cornering the prey would be.

Mikhail stopped at a crossroads where he could faintly feel the fellow’s presence. Through persistent searching, he had found the route the fellow likely used, but this cautious, sensitive, and cunning prey would never expose himself to Mikhail’s sight.

Mikhail stopped searching with his eyes and tilted his head slightly, slowly inhaling the air. The air he slowly drew in filled his lungs. Various scents brushed past, stimulating his olfactory senses.

Before long, a sharp smile appeared on Mikhail’s lips. A characteristic bitter herbal scent was mixed into the air. He must have passed through here not long ago. Perhaps—no, probably—he had spotted Mikhail and hurriedly changed his route.

Just as if he were about to clash swords with an opponent on a battlefield, or closing the distance with prey he had pursued for days, every nerve in his body stood on edge, and a thrill of anticipation flowed through his muscles.

However, instead of running immediately in the direction he presumed the fellow had gone, Mikhail turned around. Rather than closing the distance all at once, the entire process of maintaining a gap and slowly, obsessively driving the prey into a corner was where the joy of the hunt lay.

Duke Castilla turned and walked away. Chaika, who had been pressed tightly against a wall cast in deep tree shade, finally exhaled the breath he had been holding. His lungs, which had been screaming, welcomed the urgently inhaled air. Only after taking several deep breaths could Chaika finally let out a long, relieved sigh.

In the meantime, the Duke had completely vanished from sight. Chaika stared intently at the path where the Duke had disappeared. His purple eyes, hidden behind dull brown hair, sparkled sharply.

He had suspected as much, but the man was truly no easy opponent.

Alphas, by nature, possess physical abilities far superior to Betas. Their senses were comparable to those of wild animals. Since Andre, whom he grew up with, was also an Alpha, Chaika was well aware of their senses and physical capabilities. However, this Mikhail Castilla far exceeded what Chaika knew. Being a Dominant wasn’t just a title.

According to the original plan, Chaika was supposed to scatter traces of his existence throughout the castle—just enough so that the Duke could find him, albeit with some difficulty. But the Duke was beyond expectations, and as a result, far from scattering his presence, Chaika was busy desperately hiding and running away. It was a flight for survival.

It was a situation that required more effort than expected, but regardless, the objective was being clearly achieved. For the past few days, Duke Castilla had searched for Chaika’s traces without missing a single day. Not only had he caught his attention, but his interest was now firmly fixed on Chaika. Now that the big fish had taken an interest in the bait, it was almost time for it to bite.

Even after the Duke had completely disappeared, Chaika did not let his guard down and remained crouched in the darkness, only standing up after a long time had passed. His crouched legs trembled. Chaika began to walk, choosing only secluded corners instead of paths where he might be exposed.

Upon reaching a secluded corner of the castle, which was otherwise decorated with straight and grand opulence, a small door appeared. That side door, which even ordinary servants didn’t use, was a passage for laborers used mainly for carrying out filth or trash. Even the Duke, the owner of the castle, likely didn’t know a door existed in such a place.

Pushing the door open, Chaika walked through the narrow passage, navigating it with familiarity. He occasionally encountered other workers, but no one paid attention to a brown-haired laborer in old, shabby clothes.

Emerging from the narrow passage, he entered a corridor used by general servants. Unlike the laborers’ passage, this was a proper hallway within the castle. The only difference from the corridors used by nobles was that secret doors were hidden throughout the walls of the seemingly normal hallway. These secret doors were not so much secret passages as they were devices for servants to move quickly and nimbly while minimizing their exposure.

Chaika skillfully reached behind a tapestry hanging on the hallway wall, opened a hidden door, and stepped inside. It was a passage mainly used to quickly transport food made in the kitchen. After walking for a while more through the dark passage, a sliver of light appeared. Chaika stood before it for a moment, checking the situation inside, then quietly pushed the door.

Beyond the door was a world completely different from the pitch-black passage. Sunlight poured in like a waterfall through a large window, warming the room. His body, which had endured the chilly air in thin, worn clothes, happily absorbed the warmth.

“Chaika?”

A soft voice called from inside. As he stepped closer, a thick, deep fragrance overwhelmed his sense of smell. The scent, which grew denser as he approached, reached a peak upon reaching the owner of the voice, nearly taking his breath away. To an Alpha, it would be an unbearably sweet and stimulating scent, but it was not so for Chaika.

“The scent is too strong.”

When Chaika frowned, Nile smiled with a troubled and embarrassed face.

With honey-sweet blonde hair neatly arranged and dressed in luxurious clothing, Nile looked like a painting. His white, soft skin was without a single blemish, and everything—from his features to his posture—was beautiful and dignified.

Especially with his cheeks slightly flushed as his heat cycle approached, his eyes moist and mysteriously blurred, and the thick pheromones scattering around him, it was impossible for anyone, Alpha or Beta, not to fall for him.

If it were an immature Alpha who had not mastered self-control, they would have lunged at him frantically, even knowing full well who Nile belonged to. In fact, it was common for young Alphas to lose control and attempt to violate an Omega belonging to another Alpha, only to be killed by the owner. That was why experienced Alpha knights guarded the entrance to Nile’s quarters as his heat cycle drew near.

“Have you been starving yourself all day again?”

Nile asked. Chaika sat opposite Nile without a word. As he sank into the warm air and the plush sofa, the exhaustion he had been trying to shake off rushed over him like a tide. Nile pushed the teacup in front of him toward Chaika. As he wrapped his hands around the cup, from which faint steam was still rising, his frozen hands began to slowly thaw.

“Eat something, even if it’s just a little, Chaika,” Nile said coaxingly.

“You’re not exactly in a state to be worrying about me right now,” Chaika muttered, glancing at Nile.

As Chaika said, Nile’s condition wasn’t great either. Enduring the period approaching the peak of a heat cycle without suppressants was by no means easy. Indeed, the corners of Nile’s eyes were flushed red with a slight fever, and his breath was hot.

“What about the suppressants?”

When Chaika asked, Nile shook his head with a bitter smile.

“An Omega sold to produce an heir wouldn’t be allowed to take suppressants.”

“Right. An Omega who has become the property of an Alpha has no right to take suppressants.”

Chaika replied in a nonchalant voice and then added, “If it’s too hard, tell me. I’ll share some of my medicine.”

Nile immediately furrowed his brow.

“Your medicine is too strong, Chaika. If you keep taking that potent stuff, your body will be completely ruined before a few years are even up. I’m begging you, either change your medicine or reduce the dosage.”

Chaika snorted at Nile’s worried words.

“If I did that, I’d be walking around leaking pheromones all over the place just like you are now, wouldn’t I?”

“…Chaika.”

Nile let out a faint sigh and fell silent. He had known for a long time that no matter what he said, he couldn’t change Chaika’s mind.

Silence settled between the two. Nile focused on enduring his physical state with his eyelids slightly lowered, while Chaika took a break, sipping warm tea to relieve his body’s exhaustion. Sitting opposite each other, lost in their own thoughts, their appearance and clothing, as well as the atmosphere flowing between them, were quite different from that of biological siblings. There was no doubt they knew each other well, but there was almost no intimacy.

“It should be time to start soon,” Chaika suddenly said. Nile raised his lowered eyes and gave him a complex look.

“As promised, do your best to seduce the Duke.”

Speaking in a somewhat commanding tone, Chaika added as he looked at Nile’s fever-flushed eyes, “Given your current state, it’s the perfect time to hook the Duke.”

Nile pulled his clothes tight, as if trying to hide his scent. Of course, it was completely useless.

“If… if he actually falls for me…”

Nile said with a worried face. Nile’s concern was perhaps natural. He was an Omega who had been noticed and adopted by the House of Marquis Lucius for his innate beauty alone and had received meticulous education until now. If such a Nile set his mind to seduce and entice, would there be any Alpha who could resist?

But Chaika immediately snorted.

“A man who doesn’t just dislike Omegas but utterly loathes them? He’s the guy who plugged his nose as if your pheromones were the stench of an outhouse just a while ago. You don’t have to worry about that, so just do your best.”

Having said that, Chaika added to Nile, who still looked worried.

“Even if the Duke really falls for you, there’s nothing bad in it for you, is there? He’s the Duke of Castilla. If you happen to bear his child, you’d be completely changing your fate for the better, so there’s nothing to lose. Even if things get twisted, it’ll just be because my calculations were wrong, so I won’t blame you. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t talk like that, Chaika.”

For the first time, Nile’s face hardened as he spoke sternly.

Chaika, who knew Nile’s hatred and anger toward Alphas—though not as deep as his own—shrugged his shoulders slightly and fell silent.

“…Really, don’t talk like that. Chaika.”

Nile muttered again and leaned back powerlessly into the sofa.

After a moment of silence, Chaika spoke again once Nile’s mood had softened slightly.

“Duke Castilla is a renowned hunter. He particularly prefers the way wolves hunt. There’s a famous anecdote that over a decade ago, he tracked and caught prey for about fifteen days without eating or drinking, quenching his thirst only with accumulated snow.”

There was conviction in Chaika’s voice. Chaika already knew everything about Mikhail Castilla inside and out. It was all reliable and accurate information obtained using the vast wealth of the House of Marquis Lucius.

“He is one of the few Dominant Alphas on the continent. No one can match his physical strength, and as a Dominant Alpha, no one can compare to his beauty. Moreover, born into the imperial family, there’s nothing he’s ever wanted that he hasn’t had. You can’t get what you want from a guy like that by clinging to him. On the contrary, you can only get it by running away.”

“By stimulating the Alpha’s characteristic possessiveness and the hunter’s instinct?”

At Nile’s words, Chaika twisted his lips into a smile. That smile was a subtle mixture of conviction and loathing.

“Even if he takes an interest in you, Chaika. Once he finds out later that you’re an Omega…”

“I’ll handle that.”

Chaika cut him off as if it were a useless worry, but Nile couldn’t easily erase his anxiety.

“Even if I miraculously have the Duke’s child, if that child is an Omega…”

Hearing that, Chaika bolted upright. His purple eyes flashed sharply through his miserably dull brown hair.

“Stop thinking useless thoughts and just do the job you were given, Nile. If you want to see your child again.”

After the cold reprimand, Chaika left through the hidden door he had entered. Staring at the door where he had disappeared for a moment, Nile pulled out a necklace hidden beneath his clothes. When he opened the locket, which looked like a simple piece of jewelry, a bundle of curled red hair emerged. Nile took out the hair and inhaled its scent deeply. Whether it was his imagination or if the scent truly remained, he felt a fresh, milky smell.

* * *

Since their first meeting, Mikhail had not only avoided meeting Nile again but had not even ventured near him. However, today was an exception. With the fifteen-day mark approaching, the Emperor’s messenger had rushed over to pry into the progress of the matter, and there was a limit to how many times he could send the messenger back empty-handed.

Ilya strongly suggested that if he hated sex and hated meals, he should at least have tea. It was merely having a cup of tea, but at least the messenger would have something to tell the Emperor. Something like, ‘Despite his terrible loathing, Duke Castilla is making every effort, such as having tea together.’

Tea time took place on a well-ventilated terrace. This was for the sake of Mikhail, who loathed the pheromones of Omegas. Regardless, the sky was clear and high, and the scattered white clouds were lovely in shape. It was a bright and beautiful autumn day, so having tea on a terrace with a wide-open view of the sky felt quite pleasant.

With meticulous care, Ilya seated Mikhail in the direction from which the wind blew, and Nile in the opposite direction, facing the wind. Instead of a standard tea table where they would sit close together, a large dining table was placed in the center for them to sit across from one another. Since the wind blew in reverse, carrying Nile’s scent and pheromones away from Mikhail, it was a gesture of maximum consideration.

The moment he entered the terrace and saw Nile… no, from the moment he began walking toward the terrace, Mikhail had worn an expression of utter hostility. However, once he sat down, his face relaxed slightly. It seemed his mood improved simply because he wasn’t exposed to the suffocating pheromones he had feared.

After confirming Mikhail’s reaction, Ilya gave a small nod. Only then did the servants, who had been lined up at the edge in a state of extreme tension, approach the table.

It was no easy task to perform one’s duties without provoking the temper of a master who was not only ill-tempered but also exclusive and fastidious. However, the butler, who had been by Mikhail’s side for a long time, brewed the tea, poured it, and placed the teacups before the two men with effortless ease. His movements were so fluid and serene that one might not even notice what he had done unless they were paying close attention.

Though his face was no longer as menacing as when he first arrived, a deep furrow remained between Mikhail’s brows.

‘One cup of tea.’

Mikhail muttered to himself as he lifted the cup brewed exactly to his taste. He intended to use the excuse of having a single cup of tea with an Omega to hold out for another two or three months. After that, he would have to find another excuse.

While Mikhail gazed blankly at his teacup, Nile, sitting opposite him, looked at Mikhail, unable to hide his anxiety. It wasn’t that Nile had fallen in love with Mikhail at first sight.

Despite being outdoors, the pheromones of an Omega on the verge of a heat cycle wafted strongly from Nile. Given that an Omega so close to their heat cycle had an Alpha—and a Dominant Alpha at that—right in front of them, it was an impressive feat that he hadn’t lost his reason immediately. Being before a Dominant Alpha without even taking a Suppressant, he must have been in a state where his rationality was on the verge of slipping away.

Nile’s white fingers gripping the teacup were trembling slightly. His flushed cheeks and the occasional flutter of his lowered eyelashes clearly revealed that he was desperate to suppress his instincts.

Of course, Nile wasn’t the only one affected. No matter how much he sat with his back to the wind to avoid the breeze carrying Nile’s pheromones or scent, Alphas were a breed capable of detecting the pheromones of an Omega near their heat cycle from kilometers away. Thus, there was no way he wouldn’t feel Nile’s potent pheromones, and regardless of what he thought of Omegas, Mikhail’s body reacted instinctively.

His usual steel-like will blurred faintly, and his body growled violently, urging him to seize, throw down, and conquer that thing. It was a scent befitting an Omega brought from Marquis Lucius’s estate at a great price. Had Mikhail been in this situation ten years younger, he would have lost his reason, snatched the Omega, and torn his clothes to shreds.

Mikhail downed the scalding tea in one gulp.

Crack.

As he tightened his grip, the handle of the teacup shattered. The handleless cup fell straight to the terrace floor and smashed into pieces. While the servants quietly approached to clear the debris, Mikhail turned his gaze to glare at Ilya.

“Satisfied?”

It was a question asking if it was enough now that he had finished one cup of tea. Ilya, who had been watching to see if Mikhail would lose his temper, nodded, thinking, ‘I guess it’s still not enough,’ upon seeing the menacing look directed at him.

As Mikhail stood up as if he had completed his task, Nile also awkwardly rose. However, having seen Mikhail fly into a rage during their first meeting, acting as if his nose were rotting just from smelling his scent, Nile could not bring himself to stop him or speak to him.

It was the moment Mikhail turned away without offering even a minimal courtesy of a greeting.

Whoosh—

Suddenly, the direction of the wind shifted. The wind that had been blowing from Mikhail toward Nile abruptly shifted, blowing from behind Nile and brushing past Mikhail. In that brief moment, Ilya winced and narrowed one eye, letting out a small “Oops.” Nile also startled and tried to pull his clothes tight to cover himself, but pheromones could not be hidden that way.

Mikhail paused for a moment and staggered slightly. The muscles in his jaw twitched fiercely as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them. He was trying to shake off the influence of the intense pheromones of an Omega on the brink of a heat cycle. Fortunately, it seemed to be just a momentary gust, as the wind returned to its original direction.

“Mikhail?”

Ilya approached with a slightly worried expression. He then positioned himself skillfully to block the space between Mikhail and Nile, fearing that Mikhail might do something violent to Nile because of what had just happened.

Mikhail placed a hand on Ilya’s chest and pushed him aside. Then, he stared intently at Nile. It was not a look of lust fueled by pheromones, nor was it a look of anger. Though it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, his gaze was incredibly intense.

An Alpha’s appearance changes according to their own strength. Generally, Alphas are born with far more beautiful features than ordinary humans. Mikhail, being a Dominant Alpha, possessed an appearance that was truly superlative. His gorgeous and refined face, devoid of a single flaw, was granted a powerful charisma by his black hair and grey eyes. His tall stature, broad shoulders, and a body adorned with lean, flexible muscles were best described as beautiful.

Those who knew Mikhail well, including Ilya, evaluated him as “the most perfect and beautiful man in the world, provided he doesn’t open his mouth and reveal his personality.”

Standing before him was the exquisitely beautiful Mikhail, in stark contrast to his rough words and actions; Nile’s gaze wavered and his breathing quickened. With a Dominant Alpha so beautiful he was mesmerizing right in front of him, it was a wonder Nile didn’t lose his reason and throw himself at him immediately.

‘Could it be…?’

Ilya looked back and forth between Mikhail and Nile, wondering if things were actually resolving this easily. Despite his doubts, a sliver of expectation mixed in. Nile, bearing the full brunt of Mikhail’s intense gaze, trembled thinly while standing. It was a tremor born of a chaotic mix of fear toward Mikhail, intense physical instincts reacting to a Dominant Alpha, and admiration for Mikhail’s appearance.

“You, this…”

Mikhail broke his silence and took a step toward Nile. Not only Nile, but the surrounding servants flinched as if they were a single entity. Mikhail took a deep breath, as if trying to sense the scent in the air. Normally, Mikhail would have grimaced the moment he felt Nile’s pheromones, but instead, he narrowed his eyes as if sensing something and muttered something under his breath.

Step. Step. Step.

His strides toward Nile were large and bold. As the intense presence of the Dominant Alpha drew closer, Nile’s trembling grew noticeably worse, and his beautiful blue eyes began to blur.

“…. Ah—…”

When Mikhail finally reached him, a sound—whether a faint moan or a gasp—escaped Nile’s lips. Trembling so violently it was a miracle he was still standing, Nile eventually swayed and collapsed to the side. Before a nearby servant could reach out in surprise, Mikhail first caught Nile, supporting him as if embracing him.

“Huh?!”

Ilya let out a laugh of disbelief, making no effort to hide it. His wide eyes were filled with sheer incredulity. The servants, including the butler, felt the same, their expressions mirroring the doubt they had in their own eyes.

That Duke Mikhail Castilla would not only approach an Omega first but actually support and hold him as he stumbled! Unless this was a dream!

But this was clearly reality.

“…Y-Your Grace.”

Almost held in the arms of the Dominant Alpha, Nile, whose reason was now nearly fading, trembled violently while clutching Mikhail’s clothes. Instead of shaking him off or kicking him away, Mikhail leaned down and buried his nose in Nile’s shoulder, chest, and hair, inhaling the scent thoroughly.

“This is… truly… unexpected…”

Ilya muttered in a dazed voice, staring at the scene that felt surreal. He then nudged the butler standing beside him, who wore a similar expression, and asked.

“…. What is that?”

The butler glanced at Ilya and shook his head, his eyes indicating that he had no way of knowing either.

The way he obsessively buried his nose in various parts of Nile’s body and inhaled the scent for a long time was almost akin to foreplay. However, it ended as abruptly as it had begun.

Push—!

Mikhail, who had been inhaling the scent so obsessively just a moment ago as if he were about to devour him, pushed Nile away as if he were finished. Having entrusted his body defenseless, Nile was suddenly shoved and tumbled onto the floor. The servants, who had been watching the unexpected scene in a trance, startled a beat late and rushed to help Nile up.

“Y-Your Grace…?”

Having been helped up, Nile called out to Mikhail with eyes that hadn’t yet cleared their blurriness. His voice was bewildered.

As if nothing had happened, Mikhail frowned and took large strides to put as much distance as possible between himself and Nile, clicking his tongue in distaste. Then, he turned sharply and spoke as he left the terrace.

“I will come to your quarters tomorrow for tea.”

By the time he finished speaking, Mikhail had already completely disappeared. Startled by yet another unexpected turn of events, Ilya called out to Mikhail and followed after him. Nile and the servants left on the terrace were all left with stunned expressions.

“His condition… I will escort him to his quarters for now.”

The experienced maid, who recovered her senses the fastest, spoke while firmly supporting Nile. Combined with the approaching heat cycle and the presence of a Dominant Alpha, Nile found it difficult even to stand on his own, so two maids clung to him and escorted him to his quarters. The servants also began to move to clean up after the tea time. However, a deep question lingered in all their minds.

What on earth was Duke Mikhail Castilla thinking?

“Mikhail. …Hey, Mikhail!”

Ilya followed behind with quick steps, calling out repeatedly. But Mikhail continued to move rapidly toward his destination with long strides. As soon as he arrived, Mikhail opened a box on his desk and took out a single strand of thin, miserably brittle brown hair. He held it to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“Mikhail, what… what are you doing right now?”

Ilya, arriving late, asked in an incredulous tone upon seeing the sight, but his voice didn’t even reach Mikhail’s ears.

After fully savoring the faint scent remaining on the hair, Mikhail suddenly let out a long laugh, revealing one of his teeth. With his eyes narrowed, he looked very pleased.

“The one place in this castle. You’ve built your nest in the one place I would never go. Very clever.”

Mikhail muttered, recalling the image of the prey who was miserably small and weak, yet cunning and clever beyond measure. He had already identified the routes the creature frequently took and the places where it stayed for a while. However, the creature never revealed itself. Although he hadn’t entered a full-scale pursuit for the sake of pleasure yet, the fact that it could avoid Mikhail’s eyes to that extent within this inner castle was a remarkable feat.

The moment he was hit by the reverse wind and drenched in Nile’s pheromones, the bitter scent of that creature had brushed past the tip of his nose, faintly mixed within the pheromones…

The scent of the one who erased their traces with such obsessive cleanliness was quite ingrained in Nile’s hair and the edges of his clothes. In other words, the creature was either nesting and hiding in Nile’s quarters, or using that place as its primary base of operations.

He happened to be getting bored of just slowly herding the prey from a distance. Now was the time to close the gap and begin the pursuit in earnest. How desperately that small, fragile thing would try to evade him. How heavily that little creature would pant. And how it would feel when it finally grew exhausted, declared surrender, and lay there staring at the approaching Mikhail.

Just imagining it made every nerve in his body stand on edge, and his heart beat so strongly with joyful anticipation and excitement that it felt as if it would break his ribs.

Mikhail carefully laid the strand of hair back onto the velvet inside the box and closed the lid. Then, he turned and reaffirmed to Ilya, who was wearing a bizarre expression.

“Tell him to be prepared, as I will have tea at Nile’s quarters tomorrow.”

“…Right.”

Ilya, answering a beat late, had a face full of questions.

Nile’s quarters, with his heat cycle drawing near, would be filled with intense and thick pheromones. Any ordinary Alpha would lose their reason the moment they stepped through the door. Of course, to Mikhail, the pheromones of an Omega—physical reactions aside—felt like nothing more than a stench worse than a sewer.

Walking into a place where a loathsome being spewed a foul odor would normally be a mad act he would never commit, but this time was different. This was a hunt. And a very important hunt at that. When chasing prey, jumping into a mud swamp that submerges the whole body or stepping on and touching animal filth was nothing. The only thing that mattered was the pursuit of the prey.

“But, Mikhail.”

Ilya approached with his arms crossed and a deliberately serious expression. Before Ilya could annoy him by pouring out his questions, Mikhail turned sharply and headed toward the study permitted only to himself. He intended to see what traces the creature had left behind today.

“Hng.”

As he was carefully laid on the bed, a suppressed moan escaped Nile. The maids, who had heard plenty about the state of an Omega near their heat cycle, quickly removed Nile’s outer clothes and loosened all the tightening straps to make him as comfortable as possible. Nile curled his body tightly and breathed heavily, as if everything that touched or brushed against his skin became an unbearable stimulus.

“Should we call a doctor?”

Even without touching his forehead, the heat could be felt from his flushed face and the breath he exhaled. One maid asked with a worried face. However, the head maid quietly shook her head. There was no way to alleviate the pain of enduring a heat cycle alone. Nor could they give a Suppressant to a costly Omega brought over from another territory specifically to produce an heir.

“…Ugh… ngh…”

The aftermath of the close contact with Mikhail, a Dominant Alpha, seemed to be too great. When Nile’s condition showed no sign of improving even after some time, the head maid eventually called a doctor to administer a sleeping potion. If he could fall into a deep sleep, the agony would at least be lessened for that moment.

Nile finally fell asleep only after swallowing a much larger dose of medicine than an ordinary human. His flushed face and hot breath began to subside very slowly as he sank into a deep slumber. Relieved, the maids changed his clothes, which were soaked with cold sweat, and cleaned his hands, face, and body while he slept.

The maids were mentally exhausted, feeling as if they had gone through a major ordeal just from one tea time. While they were taking a brief rest leaning against the wall of the room, Nile slowly opened his eyes despite the amount of sleeping potion he had taken.

“Lord Nile. How are you feeling?”

When the head maid approached and asked, Nile frowned slightly. His face still looked strained. However, his complexion was much better than before.

“I wish to rest in silence, so please, everyone leave.”

Nile muttered in a small, whispering voice. The head maid nodded and signaled the other maids to gather and disappear outside the door.

Nile was finally left alone in the empty room. He let out a long, long sigh. Heat could still be felt in that heavy sigh. The presence of a Dominant Alpha was truly so powerful that if the Duke had delayed pushing him away just a little longer, he might have lost his reason and rubbed his body against him.

How long had he been lying there alone? He felt the air in the room shift slightly, and soon Chaika approached the bedside.

“You don’t look well at all.”

At Chaika’s words, Nile merely managed a faint, ambiguous expression, as if he lacked the strength to even lift a finger. Chaika took a cloth from the bedside table and carefully wiped the cold sweat from Nile’s forehead, asking,

“How was it?”

“Now I know exactly why a Dominant Alpha is called ‘Dominant’.”

Muttering as if it were a struggle even to speak, Nile let out a heavy sigh, as though the experience had been horrific.

“And?”

“…He told me to be ready to come to his quarters for tea tomorrow.”

At Nile’s answer, one corner of Chaika’s mouth curled up slantingly. His purple eyes, partially visible through his messy, dry brown hair, sparkled with satisfaction.

“He is… different, Chaika. He wasn’t just slightly superior to an average Alpha. He was….”

Nile trailed off for a moment, as if recalling the tea time and its aftermath, before speaking again.

“I can’t be sure if I’ll be able to maintain my reason if he comes here tomorrow.”

Having said that, Nile looked around his quarters. The elegantly and lavishly decorated residence was quite spacious, but it wasn’t large enough to escape the Duke’s presence, even if they were at opposite ends of the room.

“It would be hard on a normal day, but with your heat cycle right around the corner, it’s only natural.”

Speaking as if he understood, Chaika pulled a bundle of paper from his coat. As he peeled away layers of thin greaseproof paper, a small clump of black medicine appeared.

“Take this as soon as you wake up tomorrow morning.”

“…If I take a suppressant, won’t he notice?”

“Don’t worry. I got this from Andre. He said it was specially formulated, so he won’t notice at all. It has almost no effect on suppressing the heat cycle anyway. You’ll still be in pain and struggling even after taking this, but it will allow you to maintain your reason until the end.”

Nile’s expression brightened noticeably.

An Omega at the peak of their heat cycle will entwine with any Alpha who lunges at them. They become creatures driven solely by the instinct to mate. Though born as Omegas, it is not as if they are devoid of shame. The shame that rushes in after regaining consciousness—having lost reason to instinct and committed such acts—was beyond words.

With a relieved face, Nile took the medicine and hid it under his pillow. He grit his teeth, as even the friction caused by reaching deep into the pillowcase and pulling his hand back out was agonizing. At this moment, even the wind brushing against his skin or a thin piece of fabric stimulated his sexual sensitivity to an unbearable degree.

Chaika looked around the room and brought over a bottle of sleeping medicine left by the doctor. Perhaps because Nile was in a state where he might soon conceive an heir, it was not a drug used for Alphas or Omegas, but one used for ordinary humans. Since spending the night like this would be nothing short of torture, Chaika poured a generous amount of medicine into a cup and handed it to Nile.

“Drink this and get some deep rest. Tomorrow will be another difficult day.”

Supported by Chaika, Nile swallowed the medicine sweetly, without leaving a single drop. Chaika carefully laid Nile back on the pillow, taking care not to cause any stimulation, and covered him with a blanket.

Since it was medicine for Betas, the effect didn’t hit immediately. Nile pulled up his locket necklace and opened the lid. With a click, a small clump of red hair emerged. Nile held it to his nose and inhaled its scent deeply several times. Chaika watched this desperate sight with emotionless eyes.

“I miss the child, Chaika. I miss him so, so much.”

Nile spoke while tightly hugging the clump of red hair as if it were the only treasure in the world.

“The child is doing well. You know that, right? Andre is feeding, dressing, and caring for him like the child of a noble. It’s incredible treatment for someone of his birth.”

“I know. But I miss him so much. If I could just hold that small body tightly right now, I feel like I could do anything.”

Nile muttered with hazy eyes, as if imagining hugging the child.

“How foolish…. He is a child born of a Beta. At most, he’ll live fifty or sixty years. You will have to watch your precious child grow old and die.”

“…Even so, I still have over fifty years. Even for us, that isn’t a short amount of time.”

Chaika’s calm expression twisted coldly.

“Even after everything you’ve been through, you still cannot escape the foolishness and limitations of an Omega, Nile.”

“That’s why I’m letting myself be used by you like this.”

Nile retorted accusingly to Chaika’s cold condemnation.

“That is true.”

Giving a short affirmation, Chaika smirked and turned away.

The big fish, which had only been circling the bait, had finally started to bite. It was time to play with it properly so that it wouldn’t lose interest in the bait and swim away. Now, simply shaking the bait wasn’t enough. He had to let it taste the bait, let it be caught, let it be bitten, and let it nibble a little, until finally, it swallowed it whole….

A fish thinks it is tracking, cornering, and catching its prey, but in reality, the moment it swallows the prey, it is the fish that is hooked and becomes the prey. Of course, it won’t realize this until the moment it swallows the bait into its belly.

* * *