Everyone turned toward the man whose name had just been called. Cyrin was already moving toward him.

"Max, what happened? What brings you here at this hour?" Max stopped a few paces away, eyes flicking past Cyrin to the man beside Veyr.

"Nothing," he said flatly. "I just missed everyone... and heard about the person Veyr brought here." His gaze finally lingered on Lioren." I was wondering if this was going to turn out like last time." Something in Max's face shifted.

Recognition. Lioren stared back, equally unsettled.

They spoke at the same time.

"Lioren Valethrone," Max breathed.

"Matthias Krydenn?" Lioren blurted.

Gasps rippled through the room. Everyone looked at Max in shock. "You... you know this Omega?" Cyrin demanded.

Leyla blinked. "Oh shoot—uh, we never actually asked his name." Cyrin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great. We've been housing a total stranger for two days and never even bothered to ask what his name was."

Across the room, Meirei tilted his head at Veyr. "You see that?"

"That's exactly how crime happens in the Lower City," Veyr finished dryly.

Lioren blinked at them. It was absurd—and a little unnerving—that no one had bothered to ask his name until now. He turned back to Max, still dazed. "You... you know these weird people?" Max gave a faint, crooked smile.

"Yes. They're my friends. But what are you doing in the Lower City? Someone like you—who barely ever leaves the house, rarely shows up at public events—has surely never been down here, not even as a child." His eyes narrowed.

What is he doing here? Matthias wondered.

The last thing Max had heard of the Valethrones was that the son of House Arclayne was desperately searching for his fiancée. Cyrin cut across the moment. "How do you know him, Max?"

"I'll tell you in the study," Max said. "Wait for me there." Before anyone could move, the servants appeared to announce that dinner was ready.

"I'm starving," Leyla declared. "Let's eat first."

They all filed into the dining room. Silverware clinked softly as the servants laid the last of the dishes. The smell of roasted meat and spiced bread filled the air.

For Lioren, the table felt like a stage. His body was heavy and shaky from the lingering heat; even lifting a spoon felt like work. His forearm ached—a dull soreness under the skin—and he hated injections, though he didn’t remember having received one.

Yet, despite everything, he felt… lighter, calmer, better than before—as if the fire inside him had dimmed just a little. His skin still burned warm, his pulse raced, but the intensity had eased. He knew the truth every Omega learned as teenagers: the stronger the desire, the hotter the fire within.

Maybe sleep helped, he told himself. Maybe the heat eases if you rest enough.

He hadn’t even taken any suppressants, yet he was feeling better. Guess luck hadn’t forgotten that he, too, exists in this world.

Earlier, while Lioren had slept, Meirei had quietly slipped him a suppressant injection to stabilize him, but it would only hold for about four hours.

He forced down a bite, tasting almost nothing. The low murmur of conversation felt far away.

Only Max's familiar face gave him a flicker of relief, enough to keep his hands from trembling. Lioren wasn't someone to believe easily.

Lioren knew only a little about the man, but enough to remember their first meeting. Back then, Matthias was popular for being respectful and a complete gentleman.

Lioren had dismissed the glowing stories about him as mere rumors—until the night he saw Matthias step in to protect a young Omega waiter from a Dominant Alpha who was harassing him.

In Velmira, power alone didn't separate Dominant Alphas from S-Class Alphas; their raw strength was similar. What set Dominant Alphas apart was the mark — the ability to bind and control their partners once they were marked.

It was a quiet, dangerous power Lioren never forgot. Across from him, Veyr was lazily pushing his plate away. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him," he said when Matthias asked if he'd join them.

"What if he steals my skincare? They're expensive."

Something snapped inside Lioren. The heat, the lingering ache in his forearm, and the absurdity of the conversation all boiled over.

He put his fork down and looked up, voice cutting through the awkward clatter. “Are you dumb or what? Didn’t you hear that dominant Omega? These clothes were given to me by him. And for the record, I could afford skincare a thousand times pricier than your cheap bottles."

Veyr blinked, genuinely surprised. Slowly, he swung his arm toward Lioren, finger extended as if presenting an exhibit to the room. "See? The thing you've all been wondering about actually has a very foul mouth," he said, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

"Finally showing his true colors. You've been dying to know who I was, right? Let me tell you, so you can—"

Lioren didn’t even flinch. He picked up his fork and started eating, ignoring Veyr entirely.

He stopped. For once, Veyr had no witty remark ready. Lioren’s shameless boasting had him completely speechless, and the usual sharpness of his mind felt oddly muted.

For the first time, everyone saw Veyr this speechless— the unflappable Enigma, speechless. Laughter flickered around the table like sparks jumping from a fire. Veyr could only stare.

But while the others tried to hide their smiles, Matthias’ face remained unreadable, though something was burning inside him, and a strange intensity flickered in his eyes.