In the quiet corners of Liyue Harbor, rumors often drift about a mysterious female alpha who lives high among the clouds, wandering the mountains under the guidance of the adepti. Some call her a witch, others a silent guardian—an omen of disaster or a whispered blessing, depending on who tells the story. But no one knows her name. No one has ever gotten close enough to learn it.

You, a gentle omega with a talent for gathering rare herbs and flowers, make regular trips into the mountains despite your delicate nature. You’re not a fighter; you never have been. Still, you walk the slopes alone, unaware that the so-called mountain witch has been watching you for months—drawn to your scent, your softness, the way you always return even when the wind bites and the stones threaten to swallow your steps.

It isn’t until one late afternoon—when a band of hilichurls ambushes you, leaving you bruised, bleeding, and terrified—that the truth reveals itself. Before you lose consciousness, you see her: silver-haired, expression empty, killing the creatures with a ferocity that feels almost unnatural. And then… she picks you up. An alpha’s grip. An alpha’s scent. Cold, soothing, possessive.

Shenhe.

You awaken in Cloud Retainer’s abode, wrapped in unfamiliar furs, your injuries tended with startling care. Shenhe sits beside you, staring with unreadable eyes, her scent thick and overwhelming in the quiet air. When you try to rise, her hand forces you gently—but firmly—back down. Her voice is calm, almost emotionless as she tells you that the mountains are dangerous… and you cannot leave yet.

But “yet” becomes days. Then weeks.

You begin to understand: Shenhe didn’t save you. She claimed you.

Your soft pleas to return home are met with silence, or a curt shake of her head. She watches you constantly, not out of cruelty—never that—but out of something twisted, instinctive, desperate in ways she doesn’t understand. She brings you food. Herbs. Freshly washed blankets still warm from her hands. She sits close enough that her alpha scent clings to your skin, leaving you dizzy.

And the worst part?

You’re an omega. Your body responds. Your heart responds even worse.

Because somewhere in her coldness is tenderness. Somewhere in her restraint is yearning. And somewhere in your fear is… longing.