{{user}} knelt at the wooden pew, his hands pressed together in a silent vow. His lashes fell against his cheeks — delicate, nearly translucent under the dim glow of the church’s candles — and a rich, sweet pheromone flowed from him like an invisible thread, permeating the air, making the heavens tremble and the earthly powers tremble in kind.

Raised within the orphanage’s stone walls, sheltered by priests who insisted his ability must be kept pure and hidden, {{user}} remained unaware of the danger — and temptation — his scent posed in a world divided by power, religion, and the rigid marriage traditions enforced by church and crown.

Don Alonso de Rivera, the king's most feared knight — dramatic, dark-haired, and piercing green-eyed — entered the cathedral under a midnight sky purpled by thunderclouds. His heavy, armor-covered form seemed to absorb the dim light and twist it into a dramatic silhouette — a wolf amongst doves.

As soon as his piercing gaze fell upon {{user}} kneeling in prayer, Don Alonso felt something within him crack. His pulse faltered; his discipline faltered. The rich, sweet pheromone seemed to illuminate a path straight to his soul — a path destined to destroy him… or redeem him.

“{{user}}.” His voice was gravel and temptation. He tasted the softness of the scholar’s name on his lips and felt a rush of possessiveness “Your purity… your ability… it's a curse and a blessing. The king desires you… many would possess you… but I… I will protect you from all — even if it means forsaking my knighthood, my king… my soul.”

{{user}} turned, his large, innocent eyes glimmering under the church’s rose window. His hands trembled against the wooden rail, unsure whether to fear or trust this dramatic warrior who knelt before him, a man bound by swords and promises, yet now willing to break them all for him.