I was the last to react.

My skin prickled, a wave of heat crashing over me, followed by a cold rush that left me trembling.

My muscles tensed, jaw clenched so tight it hurt, every fiber of my being straining toward him. It was as if some invisible force had wrapped itself around me and was pulling me in. 

A gravitational pull that demanded I move closer, that I touch him, take him.

Claim him.

Even from across the room, I could smell him—a heady mix of honey, leather, and cedarwood, with just the faintest trace of vanilla that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs, trying to draw strength from it, even as it threatened to unravel me.

Why now?

Why him?

The questions crashed through my mind, jagged and chaotic, cutting through the haze of instinct and need. 

I hadn't felt anything this sharp, this consuming, not even when—

I pushed the thought aside, gritting my teeth as I struggled to wrestle my emotions into submission. 

He wasn't just beautiful.

He was ethereal.

Something about him reached out, called to a part of me I'd buried so deep I thought it was gone forever.

I didn't want this.

I didn't need this.

And yet… I couldn't look away.

So, I counted. 

I forced myself to focus on the details around me, anything to dull the sharp, blinding edge of whatever was burning inside me.

One. A pair of older Alphas stood near the fireplace, cigars smoldering between their fingers, their eyes moving lazily over the room's occupants.

Two. A serving omega hovered near the edge of the room, hands shaking as she poured wine into glasses, her gaze darting nervously to her left, where a young, unmarked alpha leaned against a wall.

Three. The Earl of Brimin's wife laughed too loudly, her fingers fidgeting with the pearl necklace at her throat. 

Four. Eamon. His gaze flickered between Keir and me, and there was something in his eyes—a spark of recognition, of understanding—that made my skin crawl. 

I felt the calm slowly seep in, forcing the raw heat of instinct to ebb away until my pheromones finally settled, no longer clawing out with desperate need.

Eamon edged closer, his eyes still on me, studying me. "Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

I took a moment before answering, letting my gaze sweep the room. 

A few alphas had noticed my pheromone pulse, their eyes sharp and wary, watching me like they were assessing a threat. A group of omegas a few feet away had bowed their heads, instinctively shying away, their bodies folding in on themselves. 

The betas, of course, remained oblivious. 

"Are you alright?" Eamon repeated, a touch more insistent this time.

I dragged my gaze back to him, forcing my shoulders to relax. "I'm fine."

Straightening to my full height, I ignored the sharp pain that shot through my leg.

Keir stood out in the dimly lit room, his clothes catching just enough light to make him seem otherworldly. 

His pale hair, fine as silk, framed a face almost too perfect and delicate to be real. His eyes—an unsettling shade of green that shifted with every flicker of light—held a depth that made them impossible to look away from, and his lips... 

Christ, the fullness of them. The way they curved ever so slightly as he was introduced to another couple stirred something raw and aching inside me. 

I wanted to taste them. 

To know if they were as soft as they looked.

Keir.

I could feel the name settle in my mouth.

Taste it on my tongue—

—a sweet, tempting flavor.

He moved through the room with an effortless grace, neither smiling nor frowning, his expression a careful mask of mild curiosity, as if all of this—the people, the whispers, the attention—barely mattered to him.

"Loxley was right," Eamon breathed, his voice tinged with unmistakable awe. "He's... captivating."

A low growl rumbled in my chest, too quiet for anyone else to hear, but it vibrated through me.

"He'll be the talk of the season, mark my words," Eamon remarked, utterly oblivious to how hard I was fighting the urge to thrash him—and every other alpha in the room—hell, even the betas—who dared to lay their eyes on my Keir. "Every Alpha in this room will want a chance to claim his attention."

The thought of anyone else even thinking they had a right to him, that they could have what wasn't theirs to take... It sent another low growl rising in my throat, and this time, I didn't bother to suppress it.

Eamon's head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as he caught the growl, but he didn't say anything. 

Instead, he arched a brow at me, a silent question hanging between us. I met his gaze and lifted my own, letting him see the warning in my eyes.

Eamon's lips twitched, a quiet chuckle slipping out as he turned back to Keir. "The alphas are practically tripping over themselves," he observed. "You'd think they'd never seen an Omega before."

"They haven't," Gareth piped up, his voice filled with the same awe as he watched Keir, eyes wide and bright. "Not like him, they haven't."

I snorted, folding my arms across my chest, my posture shifting into something more guarded, more defensive. "He's nothing special," I muttered, though I could feel the lie settle heavy and bitter in my mouth even as I said it.

Eamon's eyes flicked back to mine. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're jealous." 

"Of what?" I shot back. "A room full of fools with their tongues hanging out?"

Eamon eyed me carefully, his gaze sharp and assessing.  "There's nothing wrong if you want to pursue the Omega, Cedric," he said slowly, his tone almost too casual, too neutral, like he was testing the waters. "Everyone else seems to be lining up for their chance. Why not you?"

"I'm not interested," I bit out. "I've got no desire to pursue anyone."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "One less ugly mug to compete with, then."

I caught the way Gareth's shoulders tensed at Eamon's words, the faintest flinch before he looked away. "I wonder if he'll be open to an introduction," Gareth mused, almost as if speaking to himself.

"Of course—" Eamon began, ready to reassure him, but before he could finish his sentence, Gareth was already moving, cutting through the crowd without a second thought.

"Ah, hell," I grumbled, watching him go.

"Your brother is far too impulsive."

I grunted in response, my eyes never leaving Gareth.

"Oh, God," Eamon whispered, his eyes widening as Gareth stumbled right into the path of the Duke and Duchess of Everly, their expressions pinching with obvious irritation. 

My first instinct was to rush over and drag him back before he embarrassed himself further.

But then Keir stepped in.

I watched, caught somewhere between disbelief and reluctant admiration, as Keir smoothly pulled Gareth to his side, positioning him effortlessly to greet the Duke and Duchess. 

It was subtle, but effective. 

The tension in the air shifted, diffusing as quickly as it had built, and the Duke's stern expression softened, even offering Gareth a polite nod.

Beside me, I felt the tension drain from Eamon's body, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a soft, relieved breath. "Well, would you look at that?"

I let out a small huff, crossing my arms as I continued to watch Keir——and Gareth.

"I think I might be in love."

"Is that the third  or fourth time this season?" 

"What can I say, Cedric? I have a lot of love to give."

I grunted again, less in response to his words and more to mask the uncomfortable churn of emotions tightening in my chest.