Chapter 1 – Rose-Gold Morning
Rui pov
The first day of the new semester smelled like money and frost.
Saint Caelum Academy's grand courtyard was already flooded with students at 7:12 a.m., black uniforms crisp, platinum chokers catching the winter sun like warning lights. Apex red, Prime crimson, Alpha steel, Beta silver, Omega rose. The colors never mixed unless an Apex deigned to notice someone lower.
I stepped out of the Eclipse Tower's private elevator wearing the smallest, softest version of myself.
Hair: pale silver, almost white, falling past my shoulders in deliberate bed-mess waves.
Eyes: winter-sky gray, wide and damp-looking.
Uniform: one size too big, sleeves swallowing my hands, hem brushing mid-thigh because I'd had it retailored overnight.
Choker: rose-gold, warm against my throat, pulsing gently like a heartbeat everyone could see but no one was allowed to touch.
The moment the courtyard saw me, conversation dropped two octaves.
"Who is that?"
"Is that… the Lestrange-Valéry boy?"
"No way. He's supposed to be remote."
"Look at his choker. That's real rose. Not plated. That's twenty million just around his neck."
"He's tiny. Someone carry him before he catches cold."
I let my lashes flutter, clutched my leather satchel to my chest like it could shield me, and took one hesitant step forward. Then another. The crowd parted on instinct; Omegas were rare here, late-presenting ones even rarer, and I had spent three years making sure every rumor painted me as something fragile enough to break if looked at too hard.
Perfect.
My gaze swept the courtyard once (slow, shy, practiced) and locked on him.
Kael Valdemar stood at the top of the marble stairs like he had been carved there. Black coat open despite the cold, blood-red choker blazing against his throat, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a coffee he would never drink because someone had made it wrong again. Morning light turned the edges of his hair into dark fire.
He was looking straight at me.
Not curious yet. Just cataloging. The way a king counts new pieces on a chessboard he already owns.
I let my lips part, just enough for a soft exhale to fog in the air, and dropped my gaze to the ground like a good little Omega. My heart was steady (it had to be), but inside my sleeves my fingers curled hard enough to leave crescents in my palms.
Three years of planning.
Four hundred and nineteen stolen photographs.
Eighty-seven different identities.
One locked penthouse I had already turned into a shrine.
And now, finally, the same air.
A Prime Alpha to my left took a protective step closer, puffing up like he'd been personally appointed my guard. I ignored him. Another Apex on the fountain edge narrowed his eyes, scent spiking possessively. I ignored him too.
Only Kael mattered.
He tilted his head a fraction (barely noticeable to anyone else), nostrils flaring once. Testing the air. My patches were medical-grade, layered six deep, laced with distilled white-rose and the faintest trace of distressed Omega. They had cost more than most family estates. They would hold.
For now.
I took another step. The crowd rippled, phones rising discreetly. Someone whispered, "He's actually here," like I was a cryptid finally caught on camera.
Ten meters away.
Eight.
Six.
Close enough now that I could see the faint scar on Kael's lower lip (the one he got at twelve when he killed his first assassin with a letter opener). I knew the exact weight of that scar against my tongue because I had kissed the photograph of it so many times the paper had worn through.
Four meters.
I let my ankle turn, just slightly, the way I had practiced on marble for weeks. My satchel slipped from my fingers. Books scattered like startled birds.
The sound of them hitting the ground was soft, deliberate.
I folded down after them, knees together, skirt of the oversized blazer pooling around me like spilled cream. My hair fell forward, hiding my face, hiding the tiny, feral smile I couldn't quite kill.
One second.
Two.
Then his shadow fell over me.
Boots (polished black, custom Italian, the left one with a scuff on the toe he never let anyone fix) stopped inches from my trembling fingers.
A gloved hand entered my vision, palm up.
I looked up slowly, letting tears gather on command (glycerin drops hidden in my lashes since 6:45 a.m.).
Kael Valdemar was even more impossible up close. The red choker looked like fresh blood against his skin. His eyes were winter storm and old money and something that made every Alpha instinct in a hundred-meter radius want to kneel.
I placed my hand in his.
His fingers closed (warm, steady, terrifyingly gentle).
The entire courtyard held its breath.
I let mine shake.
"Careful," he said, voice low enough that only I could hear the rough edge beneath the velvet. "The ground is cold."
I nodded, small, helpless. My pulse was perfect 62 bpm. My scent bloomed another careful degree (sweet, needy, breakable).
He pulled me up like I weighed nothing.
For one single heartbeat my body was close enough to feel the heat pouring off him. Cedar, winter air, and something metallic that made my hindbrain purr like a predator finally scenting home.
I swayed, just a little, into his space.
His arm came around my waist on pure instinct.
Contact.
I almost closed my eyes and let the monster out right then.
Instead I whispered, barely audible, the first real words I had ever spoken to him in this lifetime.
"Thank you… senpai."
His arm tightened for a fraction of a second. Confusion flickered behind the storm-gray eyes (because no one had called him senpai since he was fifteen and terrifying).
I stepped back, bowed my head, gathered my books with trembling fingers while the entire school watched their untouchable king personally help the ghost prince who had finally decided to haunt them in the flesh.
When I straightened, I dared one more look.
Kael was staring at my rose-gold choker like it had personally offended him. Or like it was the only thing in the world worth protecting.
I smiled (small, shy, grateful).
Inside, the thing that lived in my chest stretched and purred and whispered:
Phase one complete.
He touched me first.
Let the hunt begin.