Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains of Felix's cluttered apartment, slicing across the chaos of potion bottles, open grimoires, and half-eaten toast. The faint smell of burnt herbs and coffee lingered in the air — a scent only Felix could somehow make feel domestic.
Sky sat at the kitchen counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. He'd been quiet for exactly five minutes — long enough for Felix to know something was definitely wrong.
Felix glanced up from the pan, spatula in hand. "You've got that face again. The 'I'm-two-seconds-from-punching-a-vampire' face."
Sky grunted. "That obvious?"
Felix raised a brow. "Considering you've been stabbing your omelet like it insulted your ancestors? Yeah."
Sky slammed the fork down with a sigh. "He could smell you on me."
Felix blinked. "...Excuse me?"
"The Supreme," Sky muttered. "Said your scent was on me. Told me to remove it."
Felix froze, spatula halfway to his mouth. "He—he what?!"
Sky leaned back, expression darkly amused. "Apparently, he doesn't like my wolf smelling like other people."
Felix dropped the spatula. "Oh my gods, Sky! That's not just a vampire thing—that's a territorial Supreme thing! Do you have any idea how bad that is? He could track me from that alone! He's ancient, he's—he's basically a walking bloodhound with fangs and trauma!"
Sky shrugged. "Good. Then double the charm. Make me smell like you even more."
Felix's jaw dropped. "Are you insane?!"
Sky smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Probably. But if he's going to get possessive over a scent, might as well make it worse."
Felix threw his hands up. "Unbelievable! Do you want to get turned into a midnight snack? He already knows you're a wolf — if he smells my magic again, he'll figure out I tampered with your aura!"
Sky's tone softened, just slightly. "Relax. He won't hurt you. He's too… controlled."
Felix snorted. "Controlled? You mean repressed. That man radiates 'I could kill you but I'm bored.'"
Sky couldn't help it — a tiny, reluctant laugh escaped. "You're not wrong."
Felix pointed a finger at him, eyes wide. "See! You're laughing! This is how it starts. Next thing you know, you're staring at his stupid perfect face, thinking maybe he's not so bad, and then boom — you're fated, cursed, or dead!"
Sky finished his coffee and stood, grabbing his jacket. "Don't worry. If anyone's getting cursed, it'll be him."
Felix groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You're impossible. Just—fine. I'll strengthen the wards, but if he sniffs too hard, I'm moving to another continent."
Sky's voice turned low, teasing. "He already sniffs too hard."
Felix stared at him in horror. "Oh my gods, you're flirting with death."
"Death's got good taste," Sky said dryly, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Felix just threw a spatula at him. "OUT. Go to work before you start writing poetry about his eyes or something!"
The spatula hit the door as Sky shut it behind him, smirking all the way down the hall.
But the smirk faded before he reached the street.
Because even through the city air and morning noise, he could still feel it —
that lingering echo of power, that silent hum beneath his skin.
The Supreme's presence.
Watching. Waiting.
And for reasons he didn't want to admit, Sky's pulse answered it.
---
The sun had barely cleared the skyline when the penthouse lights flickered on.
At the highest floor of Hirunkit Holdings, the city moved like a distant dream below — small, fragile, forgettable.
Nani preferred it that way.
He stood before the wide glass wall, bare feet against cold marble, a silk robe draped loosely over his shoulders.
In his hand — a crystal glass filled with something dark, thick, and faintly shimmering. Blood, rich with age and power. He sipped it slowly, as though tasting memory.
He could eat human food, of course. Centuries had taught him every flavor, every indulgence. But nothing mortal lingered on his tongue like blood did — warm, heavy, alive.
He didn't drink to survive anymore. He drank to remember he still could.
Behind him, the quiet rhythm of his morning began.
"Your schedule for today," William said, precise as always, stepping in with a tablet. His tone was efficient, calm — the voice of someone who had served too long to be startled by anything.
"Morning conference at nine, followed by the board meeting at eleven. At two, the negotiations with the human consortium continue—Mr. Nateetorn will be part of your protection detail."
Nani didn't react outwardly, but a flicker — quick and faint — passed behind his eyes.
The wolf.
"Very well," he said simply, setting the glass aside.
Est breezed into the room at that exact moment, arms full of neatly pressed suits and a cup of something that smelled aggressively like caramel coffee.
"Good morning, my eternally brooding overlord!" Est sang, dropping the pile of clothes onto the nearby chaise. "Please, for the love of aesthetics, wear something new today. You've been rotating the same five outfits since the Renaissance."
Nani arched a brow. "They were tailored in Milan."
"In 1620," Est shot back, pointing a manicured finger. "And no, being timeless doesn't mean your wardrobe should be."
William sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He plans to go shopping again," he said, mostly for Nani's benefit.
Est smiled innocently. "I do! And I'm taking a guard with me this time. Someone tall, capable, preferably handsome."
Nani didn't look up from his glass, but the air in the room shifted—just slightly.
"You have several guards," William reminded him.
"Yes, but none of them have the energy I need. I'm taking Sky."
That got Nani's attention. His eyes lifted, calm but sharp. "Sky?"
Est grinned. "Mhm. The new wolf. He's quiet, polite, doesn't faint when you walk into the room—unlike most of the staff. Perfect assistant material."
William's gaze flicked toward Nani. He knew that tone, that subtle drop in temperature — ancient instinct surfacing where logic had no say.
Nani turned back to the window, voice deceptively light. "He's assigned to me. Not for errands."
"You're not his only assignment," Est countered, smirking. "Besides, it's shopping, not a war. Unless you're jealous?"
A beat of silence.
Nani's expression didn't change, but something electric rippled through the air.
It wasn't anger — not exactly. More like a warning.
William cleared his throat softly. "Perhaps it's best if I accompany him instead."
Est clasped a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "You two are so overprotective. I just want to look at shoes, not summon demons."
"You attract trouble like it's perfume," William muttered.
Est rolled his eyes. "Then good thing I smell amazing."
He looked back at Nani, mischievous grin in place. "Fine, fine. I'll take another guard. But you have to admit — the wolf's got presence. Even you noticed."
For the briefest second, Nani's eyes flickered gold.
"I notice everything," he said quietly.
Est only smiled wider. "Sure you do, My Lord."
As Est left humming under his breath, William lingered near the doorway.
He'd served the Supreme long enough to read silence as easily as speech.
"You're uneasy," William said quietly.
Nani didn't deny it. His gaze stayed fixed on the skyline, expression unreadable. "He smells of witchcraft."
"A curse?"
"Not quite." Nani's voice lowered, thoughtful. "It's a ward—old, layered. Protective, not hostile. But it clings too closely to him. Whoever wove it knows how to hide bloodlines."
William frowned. "Someone's shielding him from being read?"
"Perhaps." A pause. "Or perhaps he's shielding himself."
The quiet stretched between them — the kind that hummed with unspoken calculations.
William inclined his head slightly. "Do you want me to investigate?"
Nani's answer came after a beat. "No. Not yet."
There was something in his tone — something that made William's gaze flick upward, studying his master. Curiosity? Possessiveness? Whatever it was, it wasn't familiar.
Before he could speak, the elevator chimed again and Est reappeared, a pair of sunglasses now perched on his head and a smug smile on his lips.
"Good news," Est announced. "The wolf's free today. I already got approval from the guard rotation. Sky's coming with me."
William blinked. "That was fast."
"I'm efficient," Est said proudly, grabbing his designer bag. "And I refuse to go shopping alone. It's tragic."
Nani turned then, eyes faintly gold under the morning light. "You'll take another with you."
"I'll take Sky," Est countered with a grin, completely fearless. "He's polite, easy on the eyes, and doesn't treat me like I'm made of glass. He'll do just fine."
For a moment, Nani said nothing.
The air cooled — not a threat, not anger, but something heavier. A warning born of instinct.
William caught the faint tightening of Nani's jaw, the too-casual way he picked up his cufflinks. The Supreme rarely disliked anything, but this… this was different.
Finally, Nani said quietly, "Fine. Take him. But no unnecessary detours."
"Promise," Est chirped, already halfway out the door. "I'll bring him back in one piece — maybe two if traffic's bad."
When the doors shut behind him, William looked at Nani again. "You're letting him go?"
Nani slipped the final cufflink into place, voice soft but edged.
"He's under my employ. Not my command."
William's brow arched. "Since when do you clarify that?"
A faint glint crossed Nani's eyes — something that wasn't quite amusement.
"Since I realized I might not like the way he smells when he returns."
William's lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but he wisely said nothing more.