The days that followed settled into something deceptively calm.
Adrian went about his routines as he always had—morning walks through the garden, helping his mother sort herbs, quiet afternoons with books he only half read. From the outside, nothing seemed different. But inside him, everything felt slightly off balance, like a door had been opened and left ajar.
He thought about Rylan more than he wanted to admit.
Not the title. Not the power. But the way his voice had changed when Adrian stood his ground. The way he had listened—truly listened—and then left, even when every instinct must have told him to stay.
That mattered to Adrian, even if he didn't want it to.
He'd grown up watching Omegas bend themselves into shapes that made others comfortable. He'd seen smart, vibrant people shrink under expectations they never agreed to. Somewhere along the way, he'd promised himself he would never be that person. He would not be softened into silence just because someone stronger wanted him.
And yet… strength didn't erase feeling.
One afternoon, as he helped his mother fold linen in the sitting room, Linda glanced at him and paused.
"You've been quieter than usual," she said gently. "Not unhappy. Just… thoughtful."
Adrian smiled faintly. "Is that bad?"
"No," she replied, returning the smile. "It just means you're growing."
He hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around the fabric. "Mama… do you think it's wrong to want closeness, but still want independence?"
Linda studied him for a moment, then reached out and squeezed his hand. "Anyone who tells you those things can't exist together has never loved properly."
The words stayed with him long after she left the room.
---
Rylan, meanwhile, found that restraint was far more exhausting than pursuit.
He trained harder than usual, sparring until sweat soaked through his clothes and his muscles screamed for rest. Even then, his thoughts drifted back to Adrian—his steady voice, the calm refusal, the certainty with which he'd said no without being cruel.
That was what haunted Rylan the most.
Adrian hadn't rejected him out of fear. He had rejected the idea of being claimed without choice. And for the first time in his life, Rylan was forced to confront the difference.
Late one night, he sat alone at his desk, staring at a blank sheet of parchment. He'd started and discarded half a dozen letters already. Every version sounded wrong—too forceful, too careful, too distant.
Finally, he pushed the parchment away.
"If I write," he muttered to himself, "it'll be for me. Not for him."
That realization settled heavily in his chest.
Wanting Adrian wasn't the problem. Wanting to possess him was.
And Rylan was beginning to understand that the second desire would cost him the first.
---
When they met again, it wasn't planned.
Adrian had gone into town with one of the household Betas to deliver supplies. The streets were busy, full of ordinary noise—vendors calling out, children darting between stalls, laughter drifting through the air.
He was turning a corner when he nearly collided with someone solid.
Strong hands caught his arms instinctively, steadying him.
"I—sorry," Adrian began, then stopped.
Rylan froze too.
They stood there for a moment, too close, the world moving around them as if nothing significant was happening at all. Rylan released him immediately, stepping back without being asked.
"Are you alright?" he asked, voice calm, careful.
"Yes," Adrian replied, surprised by how normal the word sounded.
Neither of them spoke for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then Rylan inclined his head slightly, respectful, restrained.
"I won't keep you," he said.
Adrian should have nodded and walked away.
Instead, he said, "You didn't expect to see me either."
A small smile touched Rylan's mouth—not triumphant, not possessive. Just honest. "No. But I'm glad I did."
They stood there, the tension between them quieter now, less sharp. Not gone—but changed.
"I meant what I said," Adrian added. "About standing beside me."
Rylan met his gaze. "I know."
"And you're still here," Adrian said softly.
"Yes."
That answer carried more weight than any promise.
They parted soon after, no touching, no declarations. But as Adrian walked back toward the Severale estate, his steps felt lighter—not because he had given in, but because he hadn't been forced to fight.
And far away, Rylan watched him go,knowing that whatever this was becoming, it would demand patience, humility, and something he was only just learning how to offer
Respect.