Étienne was a brute, but what a brute! Towering, robust, and broad-shouldered, with thick, ash-brown hair cascading down his back in a thinning strip along his spine. The young and fiery alpha, with his striking dark eyes, straight nose, and slightly full lips playing a charming half-smile, unsurprisingly stirred fervent and zealous interest among all omegas. It was no wonder that such a young and passionate alpha, who was also a near blood relative of the current royal dynasty, incited an excessive and fanatical interest among all the omegas. Naturally, the betas were also captivated by such a potential suitor, and even the less prominent alphas... And why, you ask? Because it's time for Mr. Étienne Elzévil Rutias to get married. He hailed from an illustrious lineage, partook in tea ceremonies with the reigning monarch, owned several mansions, and managed a lucrative mining enterprise—in essence, he was exceedingly wealthy. Who could possibly decline such a suitor? Exactly, no one. Initially, Etienne made the most of this, skillfully taking advantage of each new attractive omega, ensconcing himself between their invitingly quivering buttocks.

Mr. Rutias found steadfast companions only in condoms, which he actively utilized almost daily. His insatiability was entirely understandable to him—for upon reaching the age of twenty-one, as was customary for every male of the Rutias family, whose lineage traced back to the earliest sentient wolves, he would choose an omega to marry and spend the rest of his life with. Infidelity within the Rutias family was not just improbable...it was taboo. Throughout the illustrious history of the clan, no alpha and omega bound by marriage had ever been caught in such a transgression, and thus Étienne harbored no doubts about his future infallibility, accepting his destiny as a matter of course. Yet, it seemed that twenty-one years were still a considerable distance away, and one could indulge to their heart's content.

Time has slipped by so imperceptibly that Étienne finds himself seated in his office, studying yet another photograph of omega with a languid gaze and pouting lips, feeling a profound sense of melancholy. It was during this activity that Dasse and Runour, two diligent young men entrusted with the protection of the Rutias family's younger generation, discovered him. Their duties under the term "protection" encompassed a wide array of actions: from reporting a knife-wielding, infatuated fanatic lurking in the passageways of Étienne's private mansion to the police, to rescuing his golden retriever from the clutches of a thistle patch. Or deal with the omega conman, who absurdly waved a pregnancy test like a net.

Both young men hailed from a once-noble family and were cousins to each other. Runour, well-built, tall, with a rather attractive square face and dark skin, exuded the robust scent of an alpha and was responsible for physical strength within the household. Dasse, half a head shorter than his cousin, specialized more in "the enemy's covert approaches": surveillance, monitoring security cameras, analysis, and diplomatically responding to delicate situations. If he faltered, Runour swiftly resolved matters with his powerful fist.

— Well, have you chosen it? — chuckled Runour, sauntering across the plush burgundy carpet and flopping into a chair opposite the desk where a sour-faced, handsome alpha sat. — Choose carefully, you're stuck with this beauty until the day you die.

— What the hell? — Etienne responded scathingly, shifting his phlegmatic gaze to his friend's face. — Who protects like that? You might as well throw yourself at the embrasure before this onslaught of photo cards! I'm sick of these same glossy faces!

— That's exactly how I'm protecting! — the guy laughed. — From a distance. Just point your finger at someone and I'll beat them so that dad won't know. And no marriage will be necessary! It's a million-dollar idea!

Etienne smirked wryly. Indeed, a "million-dollar" idea. A million-dollar drain on his nerves. For a week now, his grandfather had been bringing a parade of omega suitors to home, each more beautiful and wealthier than the last—"for the groom's joy." It wasn't that they were truly awful—it's just that his alpha instincts clearly told him they were not the one. The scents, so varied—herbal, floral, bitter, sweet—none stirred his heart. Nothing even flickered within him, let alone the immediate stirring and arousal that should occur at the scent of the one with whom he would spend all his nights. Perhaps he wouldn't have even thought about it (after all, he hadn't placed such immense importance on scents before: pleasant was good, mixed with innocence was even better) if it hadn't been for one episode that happened to him a month ago.

On that day, when Father and Papa gathered the entire high society and announced the impending marriage of their second son, Etienne pondered lazily, sipping his whiskey, musing over who this second son might be. Eventually, piecing together the simple facts, he arrived at a staggering conclusion and, it seemed, drained nearly half a crate of the remarkable beverage, toasting either his joy or his sorrow. Etienne's memory of the events was somewhat hazy. There was a club, dancing with two leggy omegas, drinking, someone's laughter, more drinking, unrestrained merriment, and an abundance of alcohol... and a scent. The scent of an omega that, like a vivid flash, overwhelmed the very essence of the alpha. Etienne couldn't quite compare it to anything. It wasn't cloyingly sweet or unpleasantly sticky. No, it was perfect. Just as it should be. Exactly the kind of scent he would want to experience on his bed, on the sofa, on the table, in the shower... and on his own member. And to claim the bearer of this intoxicating fragrance as his own, exclusively his.

Etienne's spirits were dampened as he reminisced about that fateful day—awakening in the embrace of two leggy omegas, his nose meticulously exploring their scents, yet neither bore even a remote resemblance to the sweet fragrance that tugged at his heartstrings. It's good that at least he pulled on a condom — even under the influence of alcohol, his hands, trained for so many years, knew their job no worse than the owner.

Subsequently, he embarked on a fervent quest to locate the bearer of that elusive aroma, but to no avail; traces of it remained undiscovered. And now Etienne was sitting and tiredly rubbing his temples, looking longingly at a new batch of photographs, neatly stacked on a wooden lacquer desk. His nose ached from the barrage of aromas —potential spouses not only sent their portraits but also infused them with their distinct scents. To add to his woes, a friend sat nearby, jesting and laughing at his predicament.

Etienne had known Runour and Dasse from their school days. Although they served his family, they were far from mere servants. Runour sometimes showed either jealousy or curiosity: the alpha often noticed him near his room while Etienne was spending the night with another pretty boy. In a way, this even flattered his ego. Runour and Etienne, both being quite hot alphas, quickly found common interests and a shared language, becoming friends. But with Dasse it was different. He was rather taciturn and reserved, and as he grew older, little changed in this regard. However, when it came to work, his tongue loosened, and Etienne could only marvel as he watched Dasse skillfully "finish off" opponents with a single word.

Etienne himself did not notice how he began to look at his "guard", who remained standing near the massive doors: black turtleneck and trousers emphasized his slender, strong body with a narrow waist. He had pleasant features, green eyes, and bronze-colored hair. Unlike the musky scent of his alpha cousin, Dasse smelled... of nothing. This was intentional. All alphas, omegas, and even betas are quite sensitive to scents—and if there is none, a potential criminal would not sense danger.

Etienne hadn't thought about it before — but what exactly does Dasse smell like? At the time, he just took it for granted. And here he was thinking. It wasn't as if they had never interacted; in childhood, before puberty asserted its natural rights, the trio played together. But as they matured, they naturally drifted apart—a common occurrence that Étienne did not particularly regret. Dasse suddenly dropped his gaze and coughed discreetly, prompting Étienne to belatedly realize he had been openly scrutinizing him. Blast it. He still had numerous suitors to review, yet here he was, fixated on his own "guards."

— We must inspect the secret passage, — Dasse remarked to his cousin, implying it was high time to attend to matters at hand. The latter eagerly sprang to his feet, flexing his shoulders.

— Coming, coming... — his cheerful voice echoed from behind the closing door. Etienne sighed despondently and turned to the next batch of cards.

The soft burgundy carpet muffled the cousins' footsteps.

— And what was that? — Runour inquired, knitting his brow, — You could have come closer, instead of standing at the door like a doorman.

Dasse cast a swift glance at him, and with a sad smile, murmured:

— You know I can't. If I smell him, I go crazy.

Runour grunted in response.

— So, what's the problem? He's easy to seduce, you can do it.

— Not funny, — Dasse replied, feeling his cheeks flush treacherously. Runour wasn't joking:

— Look, another month or two, and he'll be marrying some wealthy young man with a juicy ass, while you'll be left biting your fists, never having had a ride on him at night!

— Runour! - Dasse nearly shouted in indignation, momentarily pausing, quite unprepared for such candid revelations from his cousin in the middle of the corridor.

— What, "Runour"? What did I say wrong? How long have you been popping those pills during your heat, huh? — Runour pressed on, clenching his fists, — or how many times have I had to cover for you when you spy on him during his trysts with yet another lover?

Dasse remained silent, uncertain of how to respond. He was ashamed of his own feelings and his cousin's truthful words. Yes, he was in love. Madly. And at first, he hadn't even realized it, unsure of how it had happened. He loved watching Etienne, feeling his enchanting scent. He feared saying an unnecessary word, approaching him too often. And then, in the first heat, the most painful, he realized with dread who he desired most in the world, the passion he felt. Even after several torturous days that seemed like hell, Dasse's feelings hadn't vanished. But they were from different worlds. Completely. And Dasse had resigned himself even then, when he first caught sight of the object of his passion in bed with an impressive, well-groomed, and strikingly handsome omega. What chance did he, from a destitute noble family, with an imperfect body and ordinary face?

And how did Dasse not blush under his gaze now? He had learned, like a cardsharp, to maintain a stony face. Dasse's mouth involuntarily twisted into a crooked smirk. He blushed, and so what? Would Etienne understand anything? He had been seeing no one but himself since childhood, and it was unlikely he would notice now. But Dasse, fully aware of whom he had unwittingly given his heart to, still couldn't imagine anyone else in Etienne's place. He couldn't start a relationship with another alpha. He always thought about the second son of the Rutias family, most unreachable yet desired. And his scent drove Dasse insane. If asked, "How do you think the chosen one smells?" Dasse would point without hesitation to Etienne's scent. Or perhaps everyone feels this way when in love?

Dasse answered his cousin:

— Concern yourself more with your personal life.

They stepped out onto a spacious, glass-enclosed veranda. Beyond the large windows, the moon shone brightly against the deep black sky, casting a magical silver glow over the healthy hibiscus bushes. Runour scratched his slightly crooked nose (a souvenir from a tangle with several alphas) and sighed:

— I'm a romantic! I'm searching for the one, with a unique scent... Those prostitutes are not what I want.

Dasse smirked once again. Personally, he didn't particularly believe in love at first sight; or rather, at first scent. Of course, many spoke of it, but Dasse, accustomed to trusting only his eyes, had never encountered such couples in his life. And the idea that he could be the person who met the chosen one did not even occur to him.

Cousins focused on inspecting the house. The servants were already asleep, as were the owners. After giving instructions to their subordinates and thoroughly checking everything, the guys headed to their rooms. Silently passing by the Etienne's office, where a warm lamplight still glowed, they heard another heavy sigh. Dasse quickened his pace. Runour shook his head. Whispered quietly:

— You've got complexes like ants in an anthill.

— Better think about work, — coolly replied Dasse when they reached their rooms, — tomorrow is a tough day, the first suitors are arriving. Everything in the house must be perfect.

— Yes, yes, — Runour waved his hand nonchalantly, smirking smugly, — just don't expect me before dawn — I have very… pleasant plans for tonight.

Dasse sighed. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards his brother's romantic escapades. Such behavior was encouraged among the alphas, but for omegas, it could lead to numerous problems in the future, even rendering them unmarriageable. Although Dasse had no intention of starting a family himself—the only person he envisioned in that role was currently seated in a large leather chair, selecting a life partner from the most beautiful omegas in the country.

— Well then, goodnight to you, and don't forget the condoms, hero, — Dasse murmured, biting his lip as he closed the door and stepped into his room. He quickly shed his clothes, rinsed off under the cool shower, and then flopped onto his bed, its sheets adorned with a pattern of cheerful blue ships. His thoughts involuntarily drifted to Étienne. The young man's cheeks flushed. He had looked at him today. The direct gaze of those stunning dark eyes had set his heart ablaze. His memory obligingly replayed all those precious moments when they had crossed paths with the second son of the Rutias family.

Etienne, still a mere child, cautiously takes his hand and leads him across the broad chasm. Now, he's a schoolboy, smiling gratefully for Dasse's leniency in allowing him to copy his homework. And here he is, grown, looking astonished as he emerges naked from the bath, encountering the petrified Dasse, who has arrived with a report. Oh, how many times Dasse would later recall that perfect physique in his fantasies, caressing himself! The broad, powerful chest, the brown nipples, the torso like a grid of cubes, the curls of brown hair, and the robust, thick member that beckoned so enticingly. And Étienne's lips, how sweet they were! Dasse experienced their sweetness purely by chance: a month ago, when Dasse took two days off for a procedure to eliminate his fragrance, Étienne, either overly joyous or overly tormented by his impending marriage, became heavily intoxicated. Dasse was just heading to the infirmary, having released his natural scent (the procedure required a day of passing by, exuding his natural fragrance), when Runour called and quickly explained the situation.

Ultimately, several individuals from the Yellow Gazette were neutralized, laden with cameras, and punches were delivered to the faces of a few violent troublemakers. They managed to diffuse a brewing conflict between two prestigious families and attempted to bring Étienne to his senses. However, the second son refused to behave rationally, embracing two handsome dancers with glee and passion right on the dance floor. Then, something unimaginable occurred: Étienne sniffed around and suddenly lunged at Dasse, passionately locking lips with him in a fervent kiss. Dasse was so shocked that his legs nearly gave way. Young Mr. Rutias was similarly unsteady, buffeted like a barge in a strong wind. In the end, they tumbled onto some bystanders, nearly inciting a brawl with their actions.

When Runour, who did not notice the reason for the fall, intelligibly and graphically conducted a constructive dialogue with several alphas with his fists, Dasse somehow came to his senses. Meanwhile, the vivacious Etienne was already dancing with those handsome omegas and clearly intended to continue the acquaintance in a more intimate setting, which he later did.

To be honest, Dasse couldn't remember how he got to the house and the infirmary. Everything was a blur. But he could still feel Etienne's wild arousal against his thigh, the intoxicating sweet smell, strong and confident hands clasping his buttocks possessively... Dasse watched Etienne and his two beauties walk away, feeling an unexpected, insane jealousy of him. And one is not enough — two at the same time! And he kisses just as passionately, sweetly. Impatiently caressing the excited body, deliberately touching the most sensitive places. Kisses slide down his bare back, nibbling on sensitive skin, and the thin strip of hair between his shoulder blades stands on end with excitement. Energetically, impatiently, passionately. And Dasse seems to die of happiness when the hot seed fills him completely.

— Ah, baby!

And Dasse turns to kiss his beloved, only to fall off the bed, inadvertently taking the sheet with the ship pattern with him. The glossy wooden parquet quickly brought the omega back from dreams to reality. Birds chirped outside, and the tender blue dawn sky promised a good day.

— A good day it clearly isn't for me, — Dasse grumpily thought, getting up from the floor and rubbing his bruised backside. The wet underwear unpleasantly clung to his body. Dasse sighed defeatedly. Dreams are just dreams—they dissolve as if nothing had happened, but unfortunately, real-life matters do not possess such a quality.