Etienne touched his chest. Why? If he were driven mad by the scent of his beloved, shouldn't his beloved also be driven to madness by the scent of Etienne? Is it only he who is so overwhelmed? Is he the only one whose mind is blown? After all, it was the scent from some kind of robe that aroused him to the point where you could hammer nails with his hard cock! The alpha was tossing and turning in bed. Finally, he rose, and after downing a couple more glasses of whiskey from the bar, he collapsed back into bed. He will take possession of this omega, his chosen one — after all, isn't he the real alpha?! The alcohol pleasantly relaxed his body. And Etienne drifted off to sleep.

Dasse rubbed his eyes, awakening from his slumber. Reaching out with his hand, he turned the flip clock on his bedside table towards him—it was half past ten in the evening. He had slept quite well. He took a deep breath and stretched, then grabbed a towel from the back of a chair and made his way to the shower, hoping to freshen up and invigorate himself. The cool water invigorated him, and Dasse even felt a spark of zest for life. The scenes he had witnessed still cut painfully into his heart, but after a light sleep and some healing vodka, it was slightly more bearable. He was grateful for even this small relief. Dasse was amazed at the hysteria he had fallen into. He had even frightened Runour... The omega bit his lip thoughtfully as he pulled on soft, dark trousers and a black t-shirt. No, it was not worth disturbing him now—especially since there was a high likelihood that he was with Jon... eating cookies. Dasse smiled to himself. He should check on what the others were doing and whether there had been any mishaps during the lavish evening—it was not right to completely offload his work onto others.

The guys reported that no incidents had been observed, and everything was proceeding with dignity and grace. All premises had been effectively attended to. One of the men was about to recount how the young Mr. Rutias had shocked the guests, but Dasse, sensing a potential relapse into premature hysteria, hastily withdrew, citing pressing engagements.

All was calm. It was pleasant. His feet sank delightfully into the plush carpet. He cherished this house. It was a pity to leave, but Dasse saw no other options for himself. Yes, he would do as he had decided: resign tomorrow and depart. And before that...

He returned to his room, entered the bathroom, and brushed his teeth three times. Then he washed between his legs twice. Shoving aside the cowardly thought of brushing his teeth again, he resolutely headed to Étienne's room. He deliberately avoided thinking about anything, shooing away all thoughts like pesky flies, simply stepping on the soft, burgundy carpet pile. He opened the door with a sweaty hand and darted into the room.

Dasse was bracing himself for a horrifying sight: Etienne passionately embracing the omega in the robe, whispering words of love. But no, the room was empty, dark, and the owner of the large bed was asleep, sprawled across the pillows. Dasse sniffed, trying to detect any foreign scents—was there a suitor hiding behind the curtain or in the closet? But he could only catch the faint aroma of cognac. He took a few uneven steps towards Etienne's bed, but then changed course, methodically searching the alpha's room. No, there was truly no one there. Not in the closets, not behind the curtains. Well, that was good. Just to be sure, he glanced at the chandelier. Empty. Perfect.

The brilliant light of the moon illuminated everything, rendering even local lamps unnecessary for Dasse's investigation. He paused in contemplation by the window, then slowly drew the curtains. The room sank into a cozy darkness. Dasse felt a tightening within him, a realization of what he was about to do. Or perhaps, he should not? Quietly, he approached the bed where Etienne lay peacefully. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Cautiously, he sat on the edge, attempting to discern the beloved face. Blast, he shouldn't have closed all the curtains—it was impossible to fully appreciate such beauty. And he might not have another chance. Etienne stirred. The omega leaned closer to observe him. The alpha's brows furrowed above the bridge of his nose.

— Dummy, do not frown, — thought Dasse, and, almost unconsciously, delicately smoothed the crease between the alpha's dark brows with his finger. He touched his nose, ran his fingers along his cheekbones, descended to his collarbones. The sensation of touching his warm skin... mesmerized him.