Etienne's spirits were dampened as he reminisced about that fateful day—awakening in the embrace of two leggy omegas, his nose meticulously exploring their scents, yet neither bore even a remote resemblance to the sweet fragrance that tugged at his heartstrings. It's good that at least he pulled on a condom — even under the influence of alcohol, his hands, trained for so many years, knew their job no worse than the owner.

Subsequently, he embarked on a fervent quest to locate the bearer of that elusive aroma, but to no avail; traces of it remained undiscovered. And now Etienne was sitting and tiredly rubbing his temples, looking longingly at a new batch of photographs, neatly stacked on a wooden lacquer desk. His nose ached from the barrage of aromas —potential spouses not only sent their portraits but also infused them with their distinct scents. To add to his woes, a friend sat nearby, jesting and laughing at his predicament.

Etienne had known Runour and Dasse from their school days. Although they served his family, they were far from mere servants. Runour sometimes showed either jealousy or curiosity: the alpha often noticed him near his room while Etienne was spending the night with another pretty boy. In a way, this even flattered his ego. Runour and Etienne, both being quite hot alphas, quickly found common interests and a shared language, becoming friends. But with Dasse it was different. He was rather taciturn and reserved, and as he grew older, little changed in this regard. However, when it came to work, his tongue loosened, and Etienne could only marvel as he watched Dasse skillfully "finish off" opponents with a single word.

Etienne himself did not notice how he began to look at his "guard", who remained standing near the massive doors: black turtleneck and trousers emphasized his slender, strong body with a narrow waist. He had pleasant features, green eyes, and bronze-colored hair. Unlike the musky scent of his alpha cousin, Dasse smelled... of nothing. This was intentional. All alphas, omegas, and even betas are quite sensitive to scents—and if there is none, a potential criminal would not sense danger.

Etienne hadn't thought about it before — but what exactly does Dasse smell like? At the time, he just took it for granted. And here he was thinking. It wasn't as if they had never interacted; in childhood, before puberty asserted its natural rights, the trio played together. But as they matured, they naturally drifted apart—a common occurrence that Étienne did not particularly regret. Dasse suddenly dropped his gaze and coughed discreetly, prompting Étienne to belatedly realize he had been openly scrutinizing him. Blast it. He still had numerous suitors to review, yet here he was, fixated on his own "guards."

— We must inspect the secret passage, — Dasse remarked to his cousin, implying it was high time to attend to matters at hand. The latter eagerly sprang to his feet, flexing his shoulders.

— Coming, coming... — his cheerful voice echoed from behind the closing door. Etienne sighed despondently and turned to the next batch of cards.

The soft burgundy carpet muffled the cousins' footsteps.

— And what was that? — Runour inquired, knitting his brow, — You could have come closer, instead of standing at the door like a doorman.

Dasse cast a swift glance at him, and with a sad smile, murmured:

— You know I can't. If I smell him, I go crazy.

Runour grunted in response.

— So, what's the problem? He's easy to seduce, you can do it.

— Not funny, — Dasse replied, feeling his cheeks flush treacherously. Runour wasn't joking:

— Look, another month or two, and he'll be marrying some wealthy young man with a juicy ass, while you'll be left biting your fists, never having had a ride on him at night!

— Runour! - Dasse nearly shouted in indignation, momentarily pausing, quite unprepared for such candid revelations from his cousin in the middle of the corridor.

— What, "Runour"? What did I say wrong? How long have you been popping those pills during your heat, huh? — Runour pressed on, clenching his fists, — or how many times have I had to cover for you when you spy on him during his trysts with yet another lover?

Dasse remained silent, uncertain of how to respond. He was ashamed of his own feelings and his cousin's truthful words. Yes, he was in love. Madly. And at first, he hadn't even realized it, unsure of how it had happened. He loved watching Etienne, feeling his enchanting scent. He feared saying an unnecessary word, approaching him too often. And then, in the first heat, the most painful, he realized with dread who he desired most in the world, the passion he felt. Even after several torturous days that seemed like hell, Dasse's feelings hadn't vanished. But they were from different worlds. Completely. And Dasse had resigned himself even then, when he first caught sight of the object of his passion in bed with an impressive, well-groomed, and strikingly handsome omega. What chance did he, from a destitute noble family, with an imperfect body and ordinary face?

And how did Dasse not blush under his gaze now? He had learned, like a cardsharp, to maintain a stony face. Dasse's mouth involuntarily twisted into a crooked smirk. He blushed, and so what? Would Etienne understand anything? He had been seeing no one but himself since childhood, and it was unlikely he would notice now. But Dasse, fully aware of whom he had unwittingly given his heart to, still couldn't imagine anyone else in Etienne's place. He couldn't start a relationship with another alpha. He always thought about the second son of the Rutias family, most unreachable yet desired. And his scent drove Dasse insane. If asked, "How do you think the chosen one smells?" Dasse would point without hesitation to Etienne's scent. Or perhaps everyone feels this way when in love?