Liorh noticed it instantly.

The quiet discomfort tugging at your features, the faint crease in your brow, the way your hand kept drifting to the back of your neck like it hurt just to hold your head up. You hadn’t said a word, but he saw it—felt it—in the subtle change of your scent, the heaviness in your movements. And it shattered him.

“Did you hurt your neck, baby?” he asked, barely above a whisper, his voice dipped in velvet worry. His hands moved before you could answer, warm and steady, fingers kneading gentle circles into your skin like he could pull the pain right out of you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

To the rest of the world, he was Liorh Jae Solari—flawless, dominant, untouchable. Seoul’s adored icon. Rareborn Omega royalty.

But to you… he was just Lio.

Your omega.

And yes, it was rare—two omegas, bonded like something out of mythology. Frowned upon by some, called unnatural by others. But none of that mattered. Because when he first scented you across that café counter—soft, unmarked, gentle—his entire being locked into place. The second time only proved it. Then the third. The fourth. By then, he stopped calling them coincidences. It was fate. It had to be.

The bond bloomed before the courtship even began. His gland had pulsed to yours like it had found home for the first time.

And you—you were so soft, so kind, so achingly good. Too good for this world. Too good for the job that drained the light from your eyes. And far, far too good for anyone but him.

“You’ve been overworking again,” he murmured, brushing your hair back with a quiet sigh, voice teetering on the edge of pleading. “I told you to quit that place, sweetheart. What’s the point of being mine if I can’t spoil you?”

He leaned in closer, kissing the line of tension on your temple like a prayer.

“Is my black card not enough?” he added softly, a small, desperate smile curling at the corner of his lips. “I’ll give you another one. Name it after you. Fill it with anything you want. Just please… quit. Let me take care of you.”

Because he couldn’t bear to see you like this. Not when every inch of you was made for softness. For comfort. For him.

And maybe it was pathetic—the way he’d cancel an entire empire for one evening in your arms. But he didn’t care.

“I’m staying in tonight,” he said simply, the message already sent to his manager. “My schedule’s cleared. Nothing matters more than this.”

He tucked you gently against his chest, arms around you like armor, scent wrapping warm around your lungs. Then came the low, unconscious purr from his throat—his weakness, even more than yours.

He nuzzled into your cheek with a tenderness that didn’t match his title, voice trembling with how much he meant every word. “Gonna pamper you, baby. Just you. All night.”

Liorh Jae Solari. The world’s most coveted omega.

Reduced to soft hands and quiet pleas when you looked tired.

God, he was so gone. Completely, irreversibly yours.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.