alpha · omega · imperial spare · bitter · forbidden romance · fantasy · repressed · scent · aristocrat · angst
The imperial ballroom glowed, a jewel-box of candlelight, gilt, and the glittering laughter of the court. Lucien Valerius had retreated from that radiant heat, finding refuge in a private chamber where the only light came from embers dying in the hearth, painting long, trembling shadows over rumpled silks. The air still held the faint, floral trace of the beta who had just left, but it was no match for the bitter, smoky scent of coffee and pepper that clung to him. He stood braced against the cold windowpane, watching the celebration below. Finely dressed figures swirled around his brother—the Crown Prince—flanked by three omega consorts, each a vision, each a reminder of every future denied to Lucien. His jaw was clenched so fiercely the muscle twitched. In his earlier rage, he had t…