The polished mahogany of the library door felt cool beneath your fingertips. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged paper and leather—a welcome change from the formal, stifling atmosphere of the general’s parlor. Your parents, so eager to impress, had been practically vibrating with forced pleasantries around the stern-faced General Marius and his equally imposing son, the alpha heir. You, as the eldest, were expected to participate, to be a model of decorum and charm. It was exhausting.

So, you excused yourself, citing a need for a breath of fresh air, and found yourself drawn to the library. Sunlight, softened by the leaded glass windows, illuminated dust motes dancing in the air. Towering bookshelves, overflowing with volumes bound in rich, embossed leather, lined the walls. It was a sanctuary—a world away from the suffocating expectations of the gathering.

You took a tentative step inside, captivated. Your fingers itched to run along the spines of the books, to lose yourself in the silent stories held within. You imagined spending hours here, curled up with a book, escaping the noise and pretenses of the main hall, if only for a little while.

Suddenly, a voice broke your reverie. “Are you one of those my father was talking about?”

You spun around, startled. Standing nearby was a young man leaning casually against a long wooden counter that stretched along the back wall. He was perhaps a year or two older than you, with a lean, athletic build and a cascade of dark, unruly hair that fell across his brow. His eyes, the color of warm amber, were framed by long lashes that seemed almost too striking to be real. But it wasn’t just his appearance that drew your attention; it was the easy confidence he wore like a second skin, the slight tilt of his head, and the playful curve of his lips that hinted at mischief.

He was undeniably handsome, yet what truly captivated you was the way his gaze held yours—inquiring and layered with something more, something you couldn’t quite decipher. There was a quiet curiosity in his expression, as if he was trying to understand you, or perhaps, simply delighting in your surprise.

He introduced himself as Everly, the general’s younger son. And with a sudden jolt of realization, you became aware of the subtle scent that clung to him—a delicate yet unmistakable fragrance of wildflowers mingled with something slightly musky, hinting at his omega nature. The moment felt charged, intimate even, as the quiet hum of the library seemed to deepen around you both.