Viona had never understood the concept of love. To her, it had always been an abstract theory, a romantic equation she couldn't quite solve. She had no idea what it actually felt like to cherish someone above all else, but as she sat in the quiet fractures of the early morning, she realized she was finally feeling the first tremors of something profound.
A sudden, fierce urge to protect this man erupted in her chest, sharp and undeniable. The realization that he was already hers—bound to her by law, soon to be by choice—swelled into a profound wave of pride.
'So strange...' she mused, a quiet wonder humming in her mind.
She turned her head to look at Ethan. His eyes were still crinkled with that soft, fleeting warmth, but he kept his gaze averted, refusing to meet her eyes directly.
Determined to bridge the distance between them, Viona intentionally leaned closer, stepping into his personal space. She wanted him to feel her presence, to understand that she didn't want him hovering at the margins of her life. "So, why did you wake up this early anyway? What are you planning to do?"
Her sudden proximity caught him off guard. A faint flush of embarrassment crept up Ethan's neck, and he shifted uncomfortably against the cushions. "I... I thought I should just clean the house."
"This early in the morning?" Viona asked, her brow arching.
"Time doesn't really matter..." he murmured.
"It absolutely matters."
"I can do it anytime I want," Ethan insisted gently, his voice carrying the practiced, accommodating tone of someone used to endless labor. "I really don't mind."
"Mmm..." Viona hummed, considering his stubbornness for a beat. A brilliant idea struck her. "Then I'll help you."
"No!" The rejection tore from Ethan's throat faster than he could filter it. His eyes widened in panic as he tried to backpedal. "I will do it alone... you don't have to... you shouldn't..."
"Why not?"
"That's... that's my work," he stammered, his fingers knotting into the fabric of his trousers. "I will handle it. You should rest, Alpha."
"Ethan..." Viona sighed, her voice laced with a mixture of fondness and growing frustration. "Do you know you are really strange? You're always shutting me out, leaving me behin—"
She never got to finish the word.
Ethan flinched violently, his entire body convulsing as if he had been physically struck. When he lifted his head, the beautiful, innocent smile from a moment ago was entirely gone, replaced by a gaze drowning in sudden, desperate tears.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry... I—"
The apologies poured out of him like blood from an open wound, frantic and terrified, even though he hadn't done a single thing wrong.
Viona froze, a heavy dread sinking into her stomach. He is so tightly wound, she realized, her heart aching at the sight of his distress. Why was he constantly on the defensive around her? Why did he treat her casual words like a verdict? He nodded to every instruction, kept his head down, and deliberately placed himself a step behind her, treating her like an absolute monarch rather than a wife.
Something was deeply, fundamentally wrong here.
All she had meant to say was that he was being unfair to himself. Alphas possessed immense physical stamina, while Omegas were biologically more delicate, burning through their energy reserves much faster. It made no sense for him to demand she rest while he worked himself to the bone at three in the morning. So why had a simple offer of help triggered a breakdown? Why was he weeping over a half-finished sentence?
A chilling realization began to take root in Viona's mind as she replayed his reactions. He spoke about domestic chores the way a hired servant would, insisting he could work any hour of the day or night without complaint. He behaved like property adjusting to a new owner.
'His father and brother,' Viona thought, a cold fury igniting beneath her concern. 'Did they abuse him?'
There was no other explanation for why a grown man would dissolve into tears at a minor misunderstanding. He wasn't just shy; he was terrified. Looking at him, Viona felt a sickening wave of guilt wash over her, as if she had personally bullied him into this state.
If her mother walked through the front door right now and saw Ethan weeping, Viona knew she would be dead meat. Her mother held a deep, unyielding respect for Omegas, and her parting words to Viona had been a stern, repetitive warning: Be gentle with him. Support him. Protect him.
The memory of her mother's hyper-vigilance suddenly took on a completely different light. The constant reminders, the excessive gifts, the intense pressure to ensure Ethan felt safe... it wasn't just standard parental advice.
'Does Mother know what they did to him? How did she even arrange this marriage in the first place?'
Pushing the dark theories aside for later, Viona focused entirely on the fragile boy in front of her. She spoke in low, soothing tones, coaxing him away from the ledge of his panic until his breathing finally began to stabilize.
But just as Ethan started to calm down, something entirely unexpected happened.
A sharp, vibrant burst of citrus, underscored by the faint, comforting warmth of vanilla, flooded Viona's senses. She blinked, her alpha instincts immediately locking onto the source. Ethan looked completely paralyzed with shock, his eyes wide and helpless.
His pheromones had broken free.
Because of the sheer emotional distress of his crying jag, his internal control had slipped, releasing his scent into the ambient air. To Viona, the fragrance was an immediate, intoxicating revelation. It was clean, bright, and deeply addictive. Before Ethan could frantically clamp down on his biology and suppress the leak, Viona took a slow, deliberate breath, letting the essence of her Omega anchor itself deep in her mind.
When the scent finally receded, leaving only a faint, ghostly trace of vanilla in the room, Ethan looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"That's—" Viona started.
"I'm sorry," Ethan interrupted, his voice trembling as he tucked his chin into his chest. "I will be more careful in the future, I swear. I didn't do it on purpose. It just... it just released on its own. I'm sorry."
Viona let out a long, weary sigh. "Ethan... will you please, for the love of God, stop apologizing to me? Every time you say that, it feels like you're putting a massive wall between us."
"I am sorr—" Ethan caught himself, his mouth snapping shut in a panic. "Ah... I mean... I..."
He dropped his face into his hands, utterly defeated. The word was a reflex, a survival mechanism burned into his brain by years of conditioning. Old habits were a brutal prison.
"Forget it. Just try not to apologize for breathing, okay?" Viona said, her voice softening.
Ethan nodded against his palms, using the sleeves of his shirt to quickly wipe away his tears. He hated this. He was a grown man, yet here he was, crying like a helpless toddler in front of his new Alpha. He was terrified that his tear-stained face looked grotesque and repulsive to her.
But as Viona watched him scrub at his eyes, she didn't feel a single drop of disgust. In fact, if anyone else had dare to blubber in front of her like this, she probably would have kicked them out of her sight. But Ethan? Ethan looked so profoundly pitiful, so exquisitely delicate, that every protective instinct she possessed roared to life.
'Why does he have to look so heartbreakingly sweet?' she thought, her fingers twitching with the urge to pull him into a crushing embrace. 'I just want to hold him.'
In that quiet moment, Viona realized how completely she had misjudged him. When they had first met at the altar, his rigid composure had made her think he was a cold, detached Omega who simply didn't care about the world. But after spending twenty-four hours in his presence, she saw the tragic truth: the coldness was a hollow shell. Inside, he was a wounded soul, utterly broken by the people who were supposed to love him.
His family had done this to him. They had taught him that Alphas were an elemental force—monsters you couldn't defeat, tyrants you couldn't fight. They taught him that when the blows started falling, his only shield was to weep, submit, and beg for mercy.
Tears were the only currency that had ever bought him a reprieve from his father and brother.
He had desperately wanted to hide that ugly, submissive side from Viona. He wanted to appear strong, to be a proper, dignified husband for her, but the trauma was too deeply ingrained. The moment he felt helpless, the tears automatically breached the surface, betraying his desire to be tough.
"So," Viona murmured, intentionally shifting the heavy mood. "That is your pheromone scent?"
"...Yes," he whispered, staring at his knees.
"It smells exactly like fresh lemons."
"...Mmh."
"I love it."
Ethan's head snapped up. "Huh?"
"I really like your smell," Viona repeated, a genuine, warm grin spreading across her face. "It's incredibly calming. Delicious, even."
The moment the words left her mouth, Viona internally winced. Great. Now you sound like a textbook pervert. Smooth, Viona. Be mature!
But Ethan didn't look offended. He slowly raised his head, his tear-brightened eyes suddenly illuminated by a profound, radiant spark of hope, as if the storm had never happened. "You... you really mean that?"
"Mmm... I completely mean it."
Viona watched in fascination as a beautiful, brilliant smile fought its way onto her husband's face. He tried to quickly pull his lips back, attempting to suppress his joy out of habit, but the happiness was too big to hide. It was that same pure, blinding smile from before.
'He's happy,' Viona's heart sang. 'He's actually happy because of me.'
A desperate, greedy ambition sparked within her: I need to make him smile like that every single day.
"I actually have a massive obsession with lemons, you know?" Viona rattled off, her cheeks turning a distinct shade of pink as she scrambled for words. "I've loved them my entire life. And now that my husband smells like them, I can... well, I can just smell them whenever I want..."
Stop talking, Viona. You're digging a deeper hole.
Ethan, however, found her sudden clumsiness utterly charming. He let out a soft, genuine breath of laughter, watching this powerful, dominant Alpha stumble over her own words just to make him feel better. How could an Alpha be so... incredibly cute?
His mind searched for a word to describe the unfamiliar sensation blooming in his chest. It felt lighter than air, warmer than a summer morning.
Joy. It was pure, unadulterated joy.
He was so deeply happy that he didn't even realize he was staring directly at Viona, his face split into a wide, radiant grin that made her blush deepen into a vivid crimson.
Viona was completely spellbound. She couldn't get enough of that expression. To keep that light in his eyes, she sat on that couch and talked absolute nonsense, spinning ridiculous stories and babbling about anything and everything until the clock finally struck six in the morning.
And Ethan sat right beside her through it all, hanging onto every single piece of her beautiful, senseless chatter, his heart finally finding a place to rest.