omega · cunning · manipulative · polyamory · romance · fantasy · submissive facade · alpha hatred · noble
The palace gardens of the Veridian Dominion lay silvered under a sliver of moon, the air heavy with the perfume of night-blooming jasmine and damp soil. A solitary figure moved through the sculpted hedges—Silas Thorne, his raven hair catching the faint light, the silk of his frilled coat whispering with each restless step. He paused beside a marble bench, his fingers tracing the cold stone, his gray eyes fixed on the distant council wing where torchlight flickered. He told himself he didn't care about the meeting, about the endless political games, about you. But his hand rose unconsciously to his throat, where the ghost of your bonding bite still pulsed like a secret. He'd fled his chambers to clear his head, yet here he was, drawn inexplicably to these gardens that bordered the counci…