Chapter 1

There was still a lingering scent of fresh, crisp mist and snow in the quilt. Ling Ran burrowed deep into it, his feverish and restless breaths gradually soothed by the chill that wrapped around him. He didn’t hurry to climb out; in his hazy state, he unconsciously squeezed the covers between his legs. The familiar scent of his alpha could help him through the difficult heat.

Though he’d already injected a suppressant into his arm before leaving the house that morning, lately he felt the effects had been growing weaker. He was an Omega who needed the nurturing comfort of a mate’s pheromones. His mate, Jiang Shengyi, was tall, powerful, and strikingly handsome—a natural alpha among alphas. The invigorating scent of rime he exuded was so alluring that many Omegas would fall for it without even realizing.

Their pheromone compatibility was a perfect one hundred percent; everyone said they were a match made in heaven, destined to be together. They’d been engaged for two years, and in two months, after Ling Ran’s graduation, they would have the grandest wedding in all of Haishi.

But before that, Jiang Shengyi refused to mark him, not even a temporary mark. Ling Ran knew it was because Jiang Shengyi wanted to save that romantic and sacred ritual for their wedding night, for his sake. So Ling Ran could only rely on suppressants to endure his endless and difficult heats.

This time, with Jiang Shengyi away on a business trip in Southeast Asia for a month, Ling Ran missed him desperately—and craved his scent too. So, under the pretense of visiting Jiang’s grandmother, Ling Ran slipped into Jiang Shengyi’s room and, without realizing it, built himself a little nest on the bed.

His slender body fit snugly, as if nestled into a snowbank, the cool freshness drawing out his excess heat. Ling Ran closed his eyes, forgetting for a moment that he was still in the Jiang house, and was almost lulled to sleep by the comfort.

Suddenly, Jiang’s grandmother’s voice echoed from downstairs, speaking to someone. Footsteps began ascending the stairs, drawing closer and closer to the room where Ling Ran lay. Only when the visitor reached the door did Ling Ran jolt awake. Before he could scramble upright, the door opened from outside.

Ling Ran tumbled out of bed in a panic, and, facing away from the door, stammered, “Sorry, grandma—I was a bit tired and lay down on Shengyi’s bed for a while. I’ll tidy it up, I’m really sorry…”

No one answered. Sensing something was amiss, Ling Ran paused in his tidying and turned around—only to freeze on the spot.

It wasn’t Jiang’s grandmother at the door, but a tall man in a tailored suit, exuding an intimidating presence. With narrow, fox-like eyes, he regarded Ling Ran in silence; the darkness in his gaze held a cold, aristocratic detachment. His face was sharply defined, severe, every feature radiating an unquestionable, commanding force that made it impossible to meet his gaze.

He leaned against the doorframe with casual arrogance, the expensive suit perfectly cut to his frame, yet it couldn’t hide the powerful muscles coiled beneath broad shoulders and a narrow waist, hinting at a strength both fierce and boundless.

Just a single glance from him was enough to leave Ling Ran rigid and paralyzed.

He must be an alpha, Ling Ran thought silently.

But Ling Ran hadn’t visited the Jiang family often and had never met this man before.

“Excuse me… who are you?”

The petite Omega asked, unconsciously retreating two steps, only stopping when his knees bumped against the bed, barely maintaining a façade of composure.

Jiang Zhiyu had no intention of answering. Even before he stepped inside, he caught a faint, sweet scent drifting from the room—a delicate blend of rose and rich grape, the two sweet notes entwining into a unique rose-grape pheromone.

Carried by a breeze from the window, it conjured the image of plump, crimson grapes trembling on the vine, not yet fully ripe, bursting with fresh, tart juice.

He hadn’t met this young Omega before, but the rosy flush on that porcelain face and the shimmering, water-bright eyes made it easy to guess. This must be the Ling family’s youngest son, the Omega engaged to Jiang Shengyi.

“No scent-blocking patch?”

The man’s voice was low and deep, soaked in the allure of aged whiskey—intoxicating, magnetic. Yet his words made Ling Ran’s back stiffen.

Ling Ran hurriedly reached for the back of his neck; the tiny patch was still there, but had rolled up at the edge when he was burrowing in the covers.

“I’m wearing it,” he replied, smoothing the patch and pressing it firmly in place.

Yet for some reason, his glands were slightly swollen, and pressing down stung a little. Tears pricked his eyes. When he looked up again, the man had already crossed the threshold.

Jiang Shengyi’s bedroom was large; there was still some distance between Ling Ran and the stranger. But an alpha’s territory, invaded by another, even stronger alpha, made Ling Ran’s entire body tense with discomfort.

“Are you a guest?” Ling Ran ventured, trying to be polite. “Grandma Jiang is downstairs.”

“A guest?” Jiang Zhiyu’s lips quirked slightly, and he stepped closer to the frail-looking Omega.

As expected, the sweet, cloying rose-grape scent thickened.

Jiang Zhiyu had never liked Omegas. They were too delicate, too fragile, their pheromones saturated with floral and fruity notes—overwhelmingly saccharine. They were suitable companions for alphas or betas, but for someone like him—an enigma, beyond all genders—he required a partner as robust and resilient as an alpha. Only alphas could withstand the forceful dominance of an enigma. Sturdy, durable betas might just be passable.

But Omegas? Never a wise choice for an enigma.

The disparity in size and all other aspects was too great. An enigma would never show mercy; an Omega partner might not survive the experience.

This Omega before him was far too exquisite—beautiful, pure yet enticing, with bright, upturned eyes like peach blossoms, and lips as plump and red as budding roses, a petite mouth on a delicate, doll-like face.

No matter how well he tried to hide it, Jiang Zhiyu spotted the disarray on the bed, the nest of blankets.

“And this is how you go into heat in front of a guest?” he asked quietly.

Ling Ran felt as if his shameful desires had been exposed. He was just a pitiful Omega, desperate for his mate’s comfort, yet now he was humiliating himself before a guest.

His cheeks grew even redder, and he clumsily shook out the quilt, his voice barely a whisper, “I wasn’t… I wasn’t…”

He wasn’t in heat—he just wanted to catch a whiff of his mate’s pheromones.

Jiang Zhiyu could also smell the repugnant alpha scent lingering in the bedding, making even the sweet grape aroma seem nauseating.

Grandma Jiang’s voice suddenly called up from downstairs, “Xiaoran, lunch is ready! Come down and eat.”

Ling Ran quickly called back, “I’ll be right down!”

Jiang Zhiyu’s gaze swept over him with a chill. “Clean up before you come downstairs,” he said, then turned and left the room.

Ling Ran felt as if a weight had been lifted. He hastily pulled an inhibitor spray from his pocket, doused himself and the bed, straightened the covers, and then rushed downstairs.

To his surprise, the man from earlier was also at the dining table, looking quite close to Grandma Jiang.

Seeing him lingering on the stairs, Grandma Jiang smiled kindly, “Xiaoran, come and eat! I had them make all your favorites today.”

The man glanced up at him, his fox-like eyes half-lowered, filled with scrutiny.

Ling Ran managed a nervous smile, reluctantly taking a seat on Grandma Jiang’s other side.

She ladled out a bowl of soup for him, reminding, “Xiaoran, you must eat more. Don’t try to diet for the wedding—look at you, still so thin! You need to put on some weight.”

Ling Ran accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, Grandma.”

She beamed, patting his head. “You really should visit this old woman more often. I suppose you’ve never met Zhiyu before, have you?”

Ling Ran hesitated, stealing a glance at the man across from him, only to meet his amused, scrutinizing eyes.

Grandma Jiang continued, “But Zhiyu doesn’t come often either—he’s busy with the group, always caught up in work. Still, you should call him ‘Uncle’ like Shengyi does.”

Ling Ran nearly choked on his soup, eyes wide with disbelief, his ears burning crimson.

This impossibly young, handsome, and distinguished man—was he really the infamous, ruthless uncle Jiang Shengyi often mentioned?

And he’d just been nesting in front of him!

Ling Ran could barely taste his food, and soon found an excuse to excuse himself and bid farewell to Grandma Jiang.

Rain had begun to fall as he left the villa. Ling Ran felt thoroughly unlucky—he’d embarrassed himself before Shengyi’s uncle, and now had to walk home in the rain.

He’d only taken a few steps when the downpour intensified, soaking his hair. He pulled his collar up, preparing to run, when a black Maybach glided to a stop beside him.

Sleek and imposing, the car cut through the rain like a poised beast.

Ling Ran paused, startled. Luxury cars were common in these villas, but he didn’t recognize this one.

The rear window slid down a crack, and an authoritative gaze fixed on him from within.

Ling Ran stiffened. That gaze, as if seeing through everything—he had just encountered it.

The voice from inside was rich and commanding, slicing through the rain into Ling Ran’s ears.

“Get in.”