“Filthy creatures.”
Mihail muttered with undisguised contempt as he stepped out of the room saturated with an omega’s scent. As he lengthened his stride and walked quickly, even the lingering traces of the fragrance faded completely. Once he was entirely free of the aroma that violently stirred instinct, Mihail immediately ripped away the bundle of cloth he’d been holding over his nose and mouth and flung it into the corner of the corridor.
Crunch.
The vicious sound of teeth grinding slipped through his clenched jaw.
“Disgusting breed.”
Muttering his revulsion once more, Mihail headed straight for the study. The moment he pushed open the massive doors and stepped inside, the familiar scent of books swept through his nose, cleansing it clean. As he inhaled deeply the smell of parchment and leather, the harshness in his expression softened considerably.
One of Castiya Castle’s greatest prides, the study was enormous beyond comparison. It held nearly every rare volume gathered from across the continent, and with caretakers regularly tasked with replenishing its collection, it was superior to the imperial library if anything—never inferior. For that reason, countless nobles coveted it and regarded it with envy.
In truth, Mihail wasn’t particularly enamored with books themselves. Rather, this was simply one of the many domains where an alpha’s powerful possessiveness had taken root. Even so, he was quite fond of this study, the crystallization of his ownership. Especially because this was a place where absolutely no intruders were allowed.
So vast it could rightly be called a library, the study was among the largest in the empire. Books packed every wall all the way up to the ceiling, and towering shelves rose everywhere, hemming in the space.
Between them were tables, sofas, and chairs arranged here and there, allowing one to tuck themselves away anywhere and read in seclusion. Unless he happened to be in the mood to immerse himself in reading, Mihail often used this place to drink alone or lounge about without interruption.
Deep within the dense forest of towering bookshelves, in a corner nearly impossible to spot, was a small area he used for precisely that purpose. Completely enclosed by shelves and hidden from all outside eyes, it held a sofa long enough for even the exceptionally tall Mihail to stretch out on, along with a table and an assortment of expensive liquors.
As Mihail entered his private space, shaking off his lingering displeasure, he suddenly frowned. In the corner of his domain—a place nearly impossible to find without thoroughly searching every inch of the study—there was a huddled lump of brown fur.
At first glance, he thought it was a stray dog that had wandered in and curled up there. But on closer inspection, it wasn’t a dog. It was a human, dressed in shabby clothes, with messy brown hair hanging limply around them.
The figure was curled tightly in on itself like a ball, and at a glance, it was strikingly small. The commonplace brown hair lacked any sheen and was so disheveled it obscured the face entirely—convincing enough to be mistaken for mangy fur at first sight.
Had he recognized it as a human from the outset, Mihail would never have tolerated such an intrusion into his space. But because he’d mistaken it for a dog, his reaction came late. Irritated by the thought that he’d confused a person for an animal, he chose not to shout or seize the intruder by the hair and throw them to the floor. Instead, he crossed his arms and observed silently.
Looking more closely, the brown furball wasn’t simply crouched in the corner. A thick book lay open at its feet, and the intruder, curled tightly inward, had their eyes buried in the pages.
The massive study, strictly off-limits to anyone but its caretakers, was deathly quiet. In that silence, even the faint breathing of the small brown figure reached Mihail’s ears. Despite Mihail standing blatantly close by, the absurd intruder remained completely unaware, wholly absorbed in the book and breathing in soft, uneven gasps. The breaths were so thin and fragile it was hard to believe a body could survive on such timid inhales and exhales.
The intruder’s clothes were pitifully worn. Despite the chill in the air, all they wore were a few thin layers, and the pants were so short that even accounting for their crouched posture, their ankles and lower calves were fully exposed. The same was true of the top—between the fluffy brown hair that nearly covered the face, neck, and shoulders, the nape and shoulder blades peeked out starkly.
Having finished his assessment of the insolent trespasser, Mihail was about to call out—then hesitated. The sliver of exposed nape, barely visible through the brown hair, strangely held his gaze. Only about two finger joints’ worth of skin showed, yet the spine beneath it stood out clearly. The skin itself was not just white, but deathly pale.
Mihail lowered his eyes again. This time, his gaze caught sharply on the ankle fully exposed beneath the frayed hem of the old trousers. As skinny as the rest of the small body, the ankle was so thin the bone structure was plainly visible, as though it might snap with the slightest grip. Like the nape, it too was white to the point of pallor.
Mihail’s cold gray eyes flicked back and forth between the ankle and the nape several times. Had he ever seen such a color before? Probably. Human skin came in countless shades, and one so chillingly pale wasn’t unheard of. And yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, his gaze lingered as though it were something entirely new.
How long had he been watching like that? The figure, motionless as a corpse until then, finally turned a page with careful deliberation. After ensuring the page wouldn’t crease or stain, the hand didn’t return to the book but instead scratched at the dull, brittle hair.
At that moment, a strikingly unique scent rose into the air and pricked Mihail’s senses. It was a powerful, concentrated herbal smell—so strong and bitter that merely inhaling it left a sharp taste on his tongue.
“Hey.”
Mihail nudged the brown furball’s thigh lightly with the tip of his foot.
The reaction came a beat late. The already curled body shrank in on itself even more, followed by a sharp inh— as the intruder sucked in a breath. Then, for a while, they didn’t move at all—frozen as though they’d fainted in that position.
“Hey.”
When Mihail nudged them again with his foot, the stiffened head slowly—very slowly—turned toward the offending toe. Upon spotting Mihail’s foot, the intruder sucked in another desperate breath.
Another beat passed. Then the gaze climbed upward from Mihail’s foot, inch by inch.
Toe, ankle, calf, thigh, waist.
The pace was so agonizingly slow it nearly made him yawn. And all the while, the shoulders began to tremble visibly, accompanied by small, rapid breaths—inh, huff. It was, frankly, a sight worth watching. As the gaze traveled higher, the tiny face buried in the shaggy brown hair gradually came into view.
The chin was as pale as the nape and calves. The fluffy hair hanging over the face like a curtain concealed nearly everything else. But one thing stood out unmistakably—the lips, a raw, reddish color in stark contrast to the bloodless skin.
Mihail deliberately twisted his expression into a vicious scowl. He had never once been a generous master to those beneath him. Especially when it came to those who dared to touch what belonged to him, he was infamous for handing down brutal punishments as examples. And yet, instead of kicking this lowly creature or throwing it out the window for daring to intrude and freely enjoy his books, he’d settled for nothing more than a light nudge—an uncharacteristic mercy that put his hard-earned reputation at risk.
“You wretched thing, daring to enter this place—”
The moment he spoke in an enraged voice, the intruder—who had been frozen like a mouse before a cat—suddenly bolted. Still crouched, they rolled away in a frantic scramble.
The movement was surprisingly quick. It was hard to imagine such speed coming from such a small, frail body. Rolling and crawling past Mihail’s side, the intruder barely brushed by him before taking off in a half-crawling sprint. Mihail moved to grab them, but a beat too late—and then he stopped.
Too focused on escape, the intruder ran without looking and smashed headfirst into a bookshelf with a thud, tumbling to the floor. The sound of that small body colliding with a massive, solid shelf was so loud it made Mihail wonder if their skull had cracked open.
But that wasn’t the case. Letting out a small groan, the intruder sprang right back up and fled again in a flurry of movement. They weren’t fast enough to be uncatchable, but the sheer absurdity of it left Mihail staring after them, letting out a hollow laugh instead of giving chase.
Rather than pursue the fleeing furball, Mihail picked up the book they’d been reading. Decorated with gold and silver leaf, it was an expensive volume filled with illustrations and explanations of rare plants and medicinal herbs. He couldn’t fathom how anyone could focus so intently on such a thoroughly uninteresting book.
When he closed it, that distinctive, bitter herbal scent wafted up strongly once more—no doubt the trace left behind by the intruder. Mihail inhaled the faint aroma lingering in the air and looked toward the direction the figure had run.
Considering how they’d chosen the most inconspicuous corner of the study to settle into, this clearly wasn’t their first intrusion. And without a doubt—
They would return.
