Hello Dearest reader.

I'm sorry to notify you that this story chapters has been deleted,as it didn’t meet my expectations on how I wanted the novels to go had to delete it and remake another one.

be patient with me,I'll be back shortly to give you all some spicy adventure.

The ballroom glittered like a jeweled cage—glass chandeliers casting rippled light over silk gowns, tailored tuxedos, and the low hum of classical music spinning through air thick with pheromones and perfume. It was the kind of high-society event where alliances were whispered behind champagne flutes and enemies smiled over slow dances. The Voss name carried weight here, and so did Kieran.

He stood near the far wall, deliberately away from the heart of the gathering. The recessive Alpha in him recoiled from attention, though he wore his role like a second skin—impeccably dressed, stoic, aloof. His deep navy suit complemented the soft contrast of his vitiligo—symmetric patterns of pale skin that reached from his collar to one side of his jaw like frost etched over a warm surface.

He sipped at his drink with practiced detachment. He was here because his father had insisted, as usual. “Visibility, Kieran,” Alric Voss had snapped over breakfast that morning, “Our name doesn’t thrive on shadows.”

And so Kieran stood, visible but unreachable.

He was scanning the crowd absently when he felt it—the air shift. Subtle, electric. His spine straightened.

A presence entered the ballroom. Kieran didn't know how he knew, but he did. It wasn’t the usual predator alert Alphas got around other dominants. It was colder. Smoother. Deeper. Like a pressure behind his eyes and ribs.

Then he saw him.

Across the room, framed beneath a hanging cascade of orchids and lights, stood a man unlike anyone Kieran had ever seen. Tall, dark suit tailored like sin. Broad shoulders, high cheekbones, and eyes like silver mercury frozen in time. He wasn’t smiling, but his mouth curved with knowing.

Zephyr Callenhart.

Kieran recognized him instantly. The Callenharts were a myth where he came from. Whispers of old money, ancient genetics, and bloodlines laced with secrets. An Enigma—some said the last pure one. Above Alpha. Beyond Omega. A being outside the hierarchy, whose existence didn’t follow the same rules.

Their eyes met.

Kieran blinked.

Zephyr tilted his head slowly, like an animal acknowledging its prey.

Kieran felt his pulse spike. Not because of fear—but because the air suddenly felt thicker. His drink trembled slightly in his hand, and he hated that.

He turned his gaze away, hiding behind the glass as though it could shield him.

But Zephyr was already moving.

No.

Kieran told himself not to react, but every hair on his neck betrayed him. The man walked through the crowd without hesitation, his stride unhurried, confident. People parted for him, as if they knew better than to obstruct his path. As if he’d done this before.

By the time Zephyr reached him, Kieran had steeled his spine. He didn’t look up right away, but he felt the heat. The gravity.

“You’re even more exquisite up close,” came the voice.

Low. Silky. With an edge that made Kieran’s knees tense involuntarily.

“Is that how you greet strangers?” Kieran asked, cool but firm, lifting his gaze at last.

Zephyr smiled then—not a warm one, but one that hinted at possession. “I don’t greet strangers. Only the ones I already know.”

Kieran’s throat tightened. “We’ve never met.”

Zephyr stepped closer, and Kieran resisted the urge to back away. “Not in this life, perhaps.”

He sounded sincere. That terrified Kieran more than arrogance would have.

Kieran turned his body slightly, forcing a breath. “You’re standing too close.”

Zephyr didn’t move. “Am I?” He tilted his head again, like he was studying a rare gem with a crack down the middle. “Forgive me. Your scent… It’s not what I expected.”

Kieran clenched his jaw. “You’re mistaken.”

“No,” Zephyr murmured. “I never am.”

Their eyes locked again, and Kieran felt something pull. It wasn’t like the mating tugs people talked about—it was heavier, like velvet hands wrapping around his chest.

He stepped away. “Excuse me.”

Zephyr didn’t stop him. He only watched, like a hunter letting a bird flutter from the trap—because he knew it would return.

Kieran disappeared into the nearest hallway, away from the crowd. He leaned against the wall, fingers tightening around his glass until it cracked.

What the hell was that?

He had never reacted like this before. He prided himself on his self-control. His strength. Recessive or not, he was still an Alpha. Not one of those swooning, pheromone-high fools who collapsed into the arms of anyone stronger.

He wouldn’t become that. Not for anyone.

Especially not for someone like Zephyr Callenhart

Across the ballroom, Zephyr remained still. But inside, something ancient stirred. The moment their eyes met, he knew.

The threads had tightened.

He could still smell the hints of Kieran’s scent trailing behind—metallic, soft, warm like rain on hot stone. And beneath that? Fertility. Suppressed. Hidden. Rare.

Very rare.

His fingers twitched slightly.

Enigmas didn’t often get choices in love. They took what was theirs. But Zephyr had never seen anything like Kieran before—not just the scent, or the defiance—but the silence, the cold control. The way he stood apart, as though daring the world to leave him alone.

Zephyr didn’t want to destroy that. No. He wanted to consume it. Wrap himself in it. Make it his.

He turned his eyes to the hallway where Kieran had disappeared.

Soon.

Back in the guest corridor, Kieran took several slow breaths. He needed to leave. This wasn’t a place he wanted to be anymore. His father would be furious, but he couldn’t stay. Not with those eyes watching.

He reached for his phone.

“Leaving so soon?”

The voice was behind him again—calm, unreadable.

Kieran spun, his heart leaping to his throat. “Are you stalking me now?”

Zephyr lifted a brow. “I was invited here. Much like you.”

“You followed me.”

“I’m drawn to you,” Zephyr said plainly. “You felt it too. Don’t lie.”

Kieran’s fists clenched. “What I felt was unwelcome.”

Zephyr moved closer again. This time, he didn’t stop. “Your body says otherwise.”

Kieran lifted his chin. “You don’t scare me.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Zephyr whispered. “Because you should be afraid of what I’m capable of... when I want something this badly.”

Silence thickened between them. A breath. A heartbeat.

Kieran’s throat tightened, his emotions warring inside him—fear, desire, defiance. It was a dangerous cocktail. And yet, when Zephyr reached forward and gently touched the cuff of his sleeve, he didn’t move away.

Just a brush of fingers.

“I won’t touch you again until you ask me to,” Zephyr said softly. “But don’t pretend we’re done here, Kieran Voss.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Kieran in stunned stillness.

The hallway was quiet. The party continued beyond the walls, distant now. But Kieran’s world had already shifted. The space Zephyr occupied inside his mind was too loud, too solid.

Something had started.

And there would be no going back.