The scent hit her like a memory she had no permission to forget. It was sweet, soft, and dangerously familiar. Just like twelve years ago. 

Elara's breath caught as it wrapped around her senses, slipping past her control, settling deep in her chest like something ancient recognizing its own.

Silas.

Her gaze snapped fully to him, he was on the floor.

Not just fallen, broken.

His broad frame trembled violently, one hand gripping the chair leg so hard the wood creaked in protest. Sweat clung to his skin, his jaw locked tight as if he was fighting something feral clawing its way out of him.

And the scent, his scent was spilling. It was everywhere, uncontrolled, exposed, and vulnerable. 

A silence rippled through the room, heavy and suffocating. Everyone felt it, even those who didn't understand it. 

Elara moved instinctively, one step then another and the crowd parted without being told even further after the sudden crowd. Because something in her expression had changed, it wasn't about Greene anymore. 

This was something far more dangerous. "Silas." When she called his name, Calvin's attention snapped to Elara's face. 

That softness didn't belong to Elara. Not like this. He's trying to get the hang of Silas's sudden collapse but Elara's strange reaction to it was far worse. 

Silas's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Those stormy blue eyes, usually controlled and distant, were wrecked now.  It was raw and exposed. Burning with something that made her chest tighten in a way she didn't understand.

"Alpha..." he breathed, his voice rough, almost breaking.

The word did something to her, something deeper and behind her, Greene let out a disbelieving laugh. 

"Oh, so now the act changes?" he scoffed, though his voice lacked the same confidence as before. "What is this? Some performance to scare me? He's just weak, look at him!"

No one laughed and no one even agreed. Everyone seemed to be worried about the sudden melting of Silas to the floor.

And Greene... still didn't understand. Elara didn't even look at him.

"Silas," she said again, quieter this time, it was a command, a pull, and his body reacted instantly. 

His shoulders jerked, his grip tightening as a low, involuntary sound escaped him, something between a groan and a plea. The scent thickened, curling tighter around her like a chain.

He hates himself for this. This is why he hates himself so much but now, even that hate seems to be melting away as the seconds pass. 

Calvin's voice cut through the tension, sharp and controlled.

"Elara," Calvin called out like a warning, but she ignored him. 

"Look at me."

Silas did fully and in that moment, something clicked. Something that made the back of her neck prickle. Silas needed to get out of here as fast as possible. She tried to release more of her pheromones to mask Silas's scent while scanning for ways to smuggle him away without bringing attention to herself. 

"Guards!" Calvin quickly called and they appeared very quickly, "Help Silas, he doesn't seem to be okay at the moment. Take him to his room." 

"No one should touch him." Elara quickly whipped out without a second thought. 

All eyes came to her immediately, "I will deal with him myself." She said with a note of finality, even Calvin shouldn't dare question what she just said. 

Greene took a step back, just one and his eyes darted between them, then everyone, confusion finally cracking through his arrogance. And then, he panicked when he couldn't find Beatrice by his side anymore. 

Fear began to creep into him, "Where's Beatrice?" He asked, seeing himself suddenly feeling cold. It was becoming more real as the seconds passed especially when the guards took a step back on Elara's order. 

Greene staggered slightly, catching his balance on a nearby table. His breathing was uneven now, his eyes...wide, his fears growing stronger, slow, ugly, and real. 

"You..." he started, pointing at Elara with a shaking hand. "You're... you're the one?"

No one spoke, no one helped him because now...he was finally seeing it. Elara turned to him at last, and when her gaze landed on him, it wasn't the woman he had known, the Elle who scrubbed his floors or the one he hit at will to his own pleasure. 

It wasn't the quiet girl who bowed her head and whispered apologies. She was something else entirely and that made his panic work up higher. 

"Yes," she said simply, the word dropped like a verdict, like his doom was already sealed the moment he walked through that door. 

"I am."

Greene's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. 

His mind struggled to catch up, to rearrange every memory he had of her into something that made sense.

"You're... the President's..." His voice cracked. "That means... that means..."

"That you threw the President's daughter out of your house," Calvin finished for him inaudibly since no one has to know where the president's daughter disappeared to for the past twelve years. 

Then he began to laugh, while Greene's face drained of colour. Beatrice hid deeper into the crowd, slowly finding herself shoving through wolves to get to her father. 

"No... no, that's not-she-she was-"

"Nothing?" Elara tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Say it again."

He couldn't, he physically couldn't because now, he understood. The clothes, the silence, the obedience, the power he thought he had...it had never been his. 

It had been hers all along. 

"I..." His knees buckled slightly. "El-Alpha... I didn't know-"

"No," she cut in, her voice calm, "You didn't."

She took a step closer and he stepped back instinctively. 

"That's what makes it worse." The words landed softly. But they hit harder than anything she had said.

Behind her, Silas shifted, still on the floor, still watching her like she was the only one anchoring him to reality. 

Elara felt it again, that pull, that awareness and she furrowed, hating the way her alpha absorbed it without taking it back. 

"Guards." Her voice rang out, sharp and absolute, and two men stepped forward instantly.

Greene turned, panic fully setting in now.

"Elara, wait-please-listen to me-I didn't mean-"

"Strip him of his access," she said, not even looking at him. "Every privilege. Every title he thinks he has."

"Please! I can fix this-"

"And make sure," she added, her gaze finally flicking back to him, "he remembers exactly where he stands."

Greene dropped fully this time to his knees. Right there in front of everyone. 

"Elara, please! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know-"

She stared at him unmoved.

"You're right," she said quietly.

"You didn't know."

Her lips curved slightly not into a smile but for something colder. 

"And that ignorance cost you everything." She turned to the guards, and then lowered her stance to meet Greene's ears, "I spent ten years scrubbing your floors, Greene. Tonight and forever, you'll scrub mine."

"Please...Elle, for the sake of the beautiful..."

A slap left her hand directly on his face, and his face shifted, "Beautiful what?" She asked narrowing her gaze at her. "Remind me, what was ever beautiful about you?" 

"Take him away." 

The guards grabbed him and dragged him back as he shouted, begged, struggled, no one stepped in and no one spoke. Because the verdict had already been delivered and the room had accepted it. 

"That served him right, he was talking too much." Someone murmured from the crowd. 

"How could he insult Alpha Elara like that?" Another asked in a low tone. 

"But more importantly, what's the relationship between Elara and that man? What of Beatrice, she was here a while ago." 

"A lot is even happening because what is our almighty Silas doing on the floor?" 

"Where's Beatrice?" Elara asked, her gaze sweeping slowly across the crowd, sharp and searching. Her eyes didn't miss a single face. "Find her."

She didn't direct the order to anyone in particular, yet it carried enough authority that several guards and attendants immediately broke away, pushing through the guests.

Moments later, the sound came-

"Leave me alone! Let me go!!"

The protests grew louder, closer, until Beatrice was dragged forward and shoved roughly to the ground at Elara's feet.

A faint scoff slipped past Elara's lips as she looked down at her.

"You said you were what again?" she asked, her voice calm but cutting as she lowered herself slightly. Beatrice trembled under her gaze, panic written all over her face. "The President's daughter?"

"I-I didn't say that," Beatrice replied quickly, too quickly. Her voice shook as her eyes darted away, only to land on Silas, still on the floor, his body subtly writhing as he struggled to keep himself together.

Elara's eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?" she pressed, her tone dropping.

Before Beatrice could respond, a sharper, commanding wave of pheromones rolled in from behind. The crowd instinctively parted, creating a clear path.

The President.

And beside him, the Prime Minister.

"What is going on here?" Her father's voice rang out, firm and authoritative.

Beatrice scrambled to her feet instantly, rushing toward her father's side like a frightened child seeking protection.

The President's gaze swept past her, landing almost immediately on Silas, who was still trying, failing to stand upright.

"What is wrong with him?"

"Sick," Elara answered quickly, almost too quickly.

Calvin's eyes snapped to her face at once, suspicion flickering in their depths.

"I'm... I'm fine," Silas managed, his voice strained as he forced himself halfway up, only for his body to falter again. It looked less like weakness and more like something was pulling him apart from the inside.

"Why are you on a rampage?" the Prime Minister asked, irritation seeping into his tone as he glanced between Elara and his daughter.

Elara straightened, her expression cooling instantly. "Why? Am I not allowed to punish citizens who make mistakes in this country?"

"On your first day back?" he shot back. "Everyone is here to celebrate you, yet you choose to turn it into a spectacle in front of distinguished guests?"

Elara let out a soft, humorless snort. "If your daughter hadn't stolen my identity, I wouldn't have had a reason to."

A brief silence followed.

"And why would she steal your identity?" her father asked, his voice measured, but probing. "Did you think to ask her?"

Elara's fist clenched at her side.

Before she could respond, Calvin stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Beatrice.

"Why did you steal the Alpha's identity?" he asked bluntly.

Beatrice hesitated, her lips parting as her eyes flickered once again toward Silas.

"Because..." she began, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. "Because I'm in love with Silas."

A ripple went through the crowd.

"What?" Elara's brows furrowed, disbelief clear in her tone. "You're in love with Silas... and somehow that led to Greene?"

Even Silas, in his dazed state, seemed to register his name faintly, his expression tightening as if he were trying and failing to grasp the conversation happening around him.

"Who is Greene to you?" the Prime Minister asked smoothly, redirecting the narrative with practiced ease.

Beatrice straightened slightly, clinging to her story. "I'm telling the truth. I had to disguise myself... to make Silas jealous. That was the only way."

Soft laughter broke out across the room.

Whispers followed, all romantic, dramatic, and amusing.

The tension shifted.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" the Prime Minister continued, his tone light but pointed. "We are family, Elara. Matters like this should be handled privately, not turned into entertainment for a crowd."

His gaze sharpened slightly. "Or did you lose your manners during your twelve-year... absence?"

The jab landed and Elara felt it-but didn't react.

Not outwardly.

The Prime Minister turned, placing a guiding hand on Beatrice's shoulder as he began to lead her away.

As she moved, Beatrice glanced back.

And smiled.

A small, sharp, victorious smile meant only for Elara.

"Take care of this," the President said, his tone quieter now but no less firm. "And meet me in my study tomorrow morning. You will explain everything."

Then he turned, following after the Prime Minister.

The crowd slowly began to settle, though the whispers hadn't stopped.

Elara exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest coiling tighter instead of easing.

Then she turned back to Silas. He was still watching her, still breathing unevenly, still affected, and this time, she didn't hesitate. 

She started toward him.

"What's wrong with him?" Calvin's voice cut in, stopping her mid-step.

Elara paused.

"Who?" she asked, though she already knew.

Calvin lifted his hand slightly, pointing.

"Silas."

"Him," Calvin said, his gaze fixed. "Why did he suddenly collapse?"

The question landed heavier than it should have.

Elara felt it not in her ears, but deeper, like something dropping straight into her stomach.

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet Calvin's eyes. Careful. Too careful. One wrong thought and he would hear it. The mind link between them wasn't something she could outrun.

So she didn't think, she reacted. 

"Why do you care?" she replied coolly. "You people overwork him in this place."

Calvin let out a short, humorless snort. He stepped forward but Elara moved just as quickly, blocking his path without hesitation.

"I'm not a fool, Elara," he said, voice low. "Silas doesn't just fall. Not like that."

His eyes flicked past her, landing on Silas, who was still barely holding himself upright, his breathing uneven, his body trembling despite his efforts to stay composed.

"An Alpha who can't withstand your pheromones?" Calvin continued. "That doesn't make sense. Isn't he supposed to be dominant?"

That word lingered in the air, very dominant and Elara felt it tighten something in her chest.  For a moment, just a moment, she saw it too clearly.

The way his body betrayed him, the way his scent had slipped out. The way he had collapsed... not from weakness, but from exposure.

It was too much.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked, her tone sharpening as she faced him fully.

Calvin studied her, longer this time and more carefully. 

"I'm asking," he said slowly, "why you suddenly care so much."

He asked studying her even further,  "You disappeared for twelve years. Today is the first day you're back... and suddenly you're speaking for him? Defending him?"

His gaze narrowed slightly.

"That's not like you."

Elara didn't flinch. "Why?" she replied. "He's my bodyguard. His condition reflects on me. Of course, I'll take responsibility."

Calvin tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. "Responsibility?" he echoed. "For someone who suddenly has a 'condition' he's never had before?" 

"Suddenly he's your bodyguard? I thought I heard you telling Father you want him replaced." 

"Can still be replaced for his misconduct today." She replied, arms crossing her chest. 

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to piece it together.

"I've known Silas my whole life," he muttered. "Since the day our secondary sexes manifested. I've never seen him lose control. Not once."

His eyes flickered again toward Silas.

"And just now... I swear I caught something strange from him before he fell."

Elara's heart beat violently, then with a quiet assertion; "And you stepping in like this... doesn't help."

Elara's jaw tightened.

"Stay back," she said firmly. "I don't answer to you, Calvin."

For a moment, it looked like he might push further, say something sharper, but he didn't. He held it in and watched instead. That somehow was worse as Elara didn't give him another second before she turned back to Silas. 

Up close, it was worse than before.

His body was burning she could feel the heat radiating off him even without touching him. His breathing was shallow, uneven, like every inhale cost him something.

Without hesitation, she moved. She pulled his arm over her shoulder, steadying his weight against her.

He was heavy and very solid but with her strength and the subtle control of her pheromones anchoring him, it didn't slow her down.

"I can help with that," Calvin offered, stepping forward again.

Her eyes snapped to him instantly, a very sharp warning, very primal and final.

"Don't" from her mindlink. 

He stopped and just like that, he stayed back and actually watched as she led Silas away step by step. 

Until they disappeared beyond the crowd, swallowed by the long stretch of hallways.

Calvin remained where he stood, his expression unreadable. Then his right-hand man stepped closer.

"Sir-"

"Find out what's wrong with Silas," Calvin said quietly. His anger suddenly rising without real reason, "Now."

Without waiting for a response, he turned, already moving toward the inner halls, toward the President, toward politics, toward everything that suddenly felt... secondary. Maybe to discuss his betrothal with Elara or something more. His eyes flickered to the shadow of Elara and Silas moving farther and farther away. 

Elara moved quickly through the corridors, her grip steady on Silas as she searched for his room.

The deeper they went, the quieter it became and the silence reigning between them didn't help. It made everything worse, because there was nothing to distract her from his scent. 

It was everywhere, very thick, sweet, and warm. How could a man smell this good without cologne? But dangerously, it clung to her senses, slipped into her lungs, settled under her skin. 

For twelve years of suppressing herself, of dulling everything that made her what she was, she had forgotten how omegas smelled, forgotten how their pheromones reacted with hers. How they pulled and how they provoked, how they challenged her control in ways nothing else could. 

And now...now she was holding one, her grip tightened unconsciously...no...she needed to get him away fast. 

Finally, she stopped in front of a door. "This is it," she muttered under her breath.

She reached for the lock, but nothing. She tried again but nothing, still locked no matter how hard she tried. Of course, she doesn't know the password, guessing won't make the numbers suddenly appear in front of her. 

She exhaled sharply already losing her patience when suddenly...Silas's lips brushed against her neck. 

Her entire body stilled. A sharp, unfamiliar tension coiled deep in her stomach.

"Ugh..." he groaned softly, his voice slurred and strained. "My whole body... it's burning..."

Her senses snapped into overdrive. For a split second, she wasn't here, she was eighteen again standing in the dark. Hearing that same voice, smelling that same scent...seeing him...she blinked and forced herself back. 

"Silas," she said firmly, grounding herself. "What's the passcode?"

She didn't expect an answer from him, not in this state but she wanted to break away from something pulling softly inside of her. 

But he stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open, and when he looked at her, his weak, blurry eyes lit up.

"Is... that you?" he murmured, his voice softer now. "Elara...?"