The winter moon hung low, pale as a polished pearl, casting its glow over the snow-laden peaks of Azure Cloud Sect. The night wind carried the fragrance of plum blossoms from the courtyard trees, mingling with the faint tang of cold steel from the training grounds.
Lan Xiyue stood at the edge of the Jade Bridge, robes billowing in the breeze. His eyes—dark, clear, and cold—scanned the shimmering lake below, its surface fractured by drifting petals. Behind him, disciples sparred under lantern light, their swords glinting with frost. But the Sect Master's son had no interest in their contests tonight.
He had caught it again—a scent. Subtle, elusive, but impossible to mistake.
Warm honey and rain on spring earth. The natural pheromones of an omega.
It was absurd. Azure Cloud Sect's rules forbade omegas from becoming disciples, much less living within the inner court. Martial cultivation required spiritual stability, and the elders deemed omegas "too easily swayed by bond-heat and emotional tides." Yet the scent was real, slipping through the night like a thread of temptation.
He followed it to the secluded West Garden, where moonlight pooled like liquid silver. There, seated beneath a snow-dusted plum tree, was a young man.
The stranger's white robes were patched and travel-worn, but his posture was graceful, almost defiant. A single loose strand of black hair curled against his cheek, trembling as he exhaled into the cold air. He was reading a scroll by lamplight, his lips moving faintly over the words.
Lan Xiyue's voice was low but edged with command.
"Who are you, and why are you here?"
The young man looked up. His eyes were like polished obsidian, bottomless and guarded, but they carried a strange, aching softness when the light caught them.
"My name doesn't matter," he said, voice calm despite the situation. "I came to return something that belongs to your Sect."
He held out the scroll. Lan Xiyue didn't move to take it—not yet. His gaze was fixed on the faint tremor of the stranger's hands, the quickened pulse visible in the hollow of his throat, and most of all…the scent that clung to him. Stronger now, undeniable.
"You're an omega," Lan Xiyue said, the words quiet but heavy.
The man's jaw tightened, though his expression didn't break.
"Then you understand why I shouldn't be here."
A pause.
Lan Xiyue stepped forward, boots crunching in the snow, his shadow falling across the other's lap. He took the scroll—and in that moment, their fingers brushed. The faintest spark leapt between them, not merely static, but something that hummed through his meridians, tugging at his core.
The omega flinched and pulled back, but his composure faltered. His scent spiked—rain over cracked earth, just before a storm.
Lan Xiyue knew two things instantly:
This man was not an ordinary omega.
If the Elders learned of him, he would not leave Azure Cloud Sect alive.
And yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, Lan Xiyue said,
"If you value your life, you will follow me".