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...?"