Morning didn't come with drama.
No messengers pounding at the gates.
No royal summons.
No Alpha presence pressing down on Adrian's chest.
Just sunlight slipping through the curtains and the soft sounds of the estate waking up.
And somehow… that made everything heavier.
Adrian sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. He'd slept, but not well. His dreams had been messy—half-formed images, fragments of heat and shadow, Rylan's voice not commanding but asking.
Asking if he may kiss him,Asking if he may hug him,Asking if he may touch him.
May I?
Tell me.
He rubbed his face and let out a quiet breath.
"This is stupid," he muttered to himself.
Nothing had happened. He'd stood his ground. He'd said what he believed. That should've been the end of it—clean, clear, resolved.
So why did it still feel unfinished?
He dressed slowly, deliberately, choosing plain clothes instead of anything formal. Today, he didn't want to look like someone being prepared for display.
Downstairs, breakfast was quiet. His mother chatted lightly about the weather, about a neighbor's new foal, about nothing important at all—and Adrian was grateful for it. Normal conversation felt like a lifeline.
Cassian watched him over his cup.
"You slept," his father said. Not a question.
"A little."
Cassian nodded. "Good."
They ate in silence for a while.
Then Cassian spoke again, casually—but Adrian knew his father well enough to hear the care beneath it.
"You don't regret what you said to him."
Adrian paused, spoon hovering midair.
"No," he said honestly.
Cassian waited.
"I just…" Adrian continued slowly, choosing his words. "I don't want to be brave only when someone's watching. I don't want to keep proving I'm not weak. I just want to be."
Cassian studied him for a long moment.
"That," he said quietly, "is the hardest thing to fight for."
---
Later, Adrian wandered the grounds alone.
Not hiding this time. Just walking.
The gardens smelled of damp earth and crushed leaves. Somewhere nearby, a stablehand laughed. Life moved on, indifferent to his confusion.
He stopped near the old stone wall at the edge of the property—the one he used to sit on as a child, legs dangling, imagining futures that had felt very far away then.
He climbed onto it now and stared out at the trees.
Rylan had wanted to kiss him last night.
The thought came uninvited—but not unwelcome.
Adrian didn't pretend it hadn't happened. He'd felt it in the air, in the careful distance Rylan kept, in the way he'd left without pushing.
That mattered.
Adrian hugged his arms around himself.
"I don't want someone who wants to conquer me," he murmured. "I want someone who stays even when they can't."
The admission startled him.
It wasn't about Rylan.
Not entirely.
It was about him—about what he wanted, what he deserved, what he was allowed to hope for.
A breeze stirred the leaves. Adrian closed his eyes and breathed it in.
For the first time since the differentiation party, his chest didn't feel tight.
---
Across the city, Rylan sat on the floor of his chamber, back against the bed, boots discarded, sleeves rolled up. He looked less like the heir of Valcor and more like a man who hadn't slept well.
Gerald, his father's Beta, stood nearby, arms folded.
"You didn't go to him," Gerald said.
Rylan shook his head. "No."
"You could have."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
Rylan stared at his hands. "Because if I crossed that line… he'd never look at me the same way again."
Gerald studied him, surprised.
"That boy has you thinking," he said slowly.
Rylan let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "That boy has me learning."
Gerald hummed. "Careful. Alphas who learn tend to change."
Rylan looked up, crimson eyes tired but steady. "Good."
He leaned his head back against the bed, closing his eyes.
For the first time, he wasn't plotting his next move.
He was waiting.
And strangely…
It didn't feel like losing.
---
That night, Adrian lit a small candle by his window and sat with a book he didn't read. The flame flickered gently, steady and warm.
He thought of Rylan—not as the Duke's heir, not as a powerful Alpha—but as the man who had listened and left when told to.
That mattered too.
Adrian blew out the candle and lay down.
Tomorrow would bring pressure again. He knew that. The world didn't change just because one Omega stood his ground.
But something had changed.
Inside him.
And whatever came next—whatever choice he made—it would be his.