The morning air was thick with humidity, the aftermath of last night’s torrential rain leaving the academy grounds slick and glistening. Columbus Academy seemed almost ethereal under the filtered sunlight, droplets clinging to ornate windows, the faint scent of wet stone and blossoms carrying through the courtyards. Students moved between buildings, chattering in small clusters, but Kyoshi Shintani felt disconnected from the world. His mind, and more importantly, his body, still lingered in the warmth of Marcus Von Labros’s arms.

  He had tried to sleep that morning, but even the comfort of his bed could not erase the memory of Marcus’s kiss, the possessive brush of hands, the intensity of their union in the library. Every nerve still tingled as if it were reacting anew, and Kyoshi’s breathing became shallow whenever he thought of Marcus approaching, as if his body remembered what his mind tried to repress.

  The first class of the day was Advanced Literature, a quiet sanctuary compared to the chaos in his chest. He slid into a seat near the back, hoping to blend into the shadows. But of course, fate—or perhaps Marcus—had other plans.

  Marcus was already there, casually leaning against the front of the lecture hall, golden eyes scanning the room, until they settled on Kyoshi. The alpha’s gaze lingered too long, intense and unyielding. There was no pretense, no casual friendliness. Only heat, desire, and a silent command that Kyoshi’s body responded to immediately.

  A flicker of a smirk curved Marcus’s lips as he approached, leaning over Kyoshi’s desk just enough to brush their shoulders together. The touch was deliberate, subtle, yet it sent sparks racing through Kyoshi, making him acutely aware of every inch of skin Marcus’s hand had grazed.

  “Did you sleep well?” Marcus murmured, low and intimate, as if the question were not about rest but the lingering effects of the night before.

  Kyoshi’s throat went dry. “I… I did,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper.

  “Good,” Marcus said, a hint of satisfaction in the rasp of his voice. “You look… tempting.”

  Kyoshi’s chest flushed, not just from the compliment but from the undeniable heat radiating from Marcus. It was impossible to maintain composure when the alpha’s presence alone was like gravity, pulling at him with irresistible force.

  Later that afternoon, Kyoshi retreated to the hidden rooftop garden, seeking space to breathe. The wind carried the scent of rain-soaked greenery, mingling with the lingering perfume of Marcus’s skin. Kyoshi closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his chest, as if he could hold his racing heartbeat in place.

  He wasn’t alone for long. The faint sound of footsteps announced Marcus before he appeared, climbing the last step to the secluded garden terrace. His hair was damp from the rain, strands sticking to his forehead, and the sun highlighted the taut muscles of his arms as he leaned against the railing, eyes never leaving Kyoshi.

  “You can’t hide from me,” Marcus said, voice soft but commanding. “I know what you’re feeling. I know how you’re thinking. You don’t have to pretend.”

  Kyoshi shook his head, a mix of embarrassment and longing burning in his chest. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready—”

  Marcus cut him off with a sudden, deliberate step closer, closing the small gap between them. The alpha’s hands cradled Kyoshi’s face, thumbs tracing the planes of his cheekbones. “Kyoshi… don’t lie to yourself. Don’t lie to me. Last night… We shared more than just a moment. We shared ourselves. And I want… more.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Kyoshi’s breath hitched, the weight of Marcus’s words pressing into him, igniting a desire he could no longer suppress. His fingers trembled as they grazed Marcus’s wrists, memorizing the warmth, the strength, the undeniable dominance that had always captivated him.

  The kiss that followed was slow, deliberate, consuming. Marcus’s lips molded to his with a possessive tenderness, coaxing every whispered moan and sigh from Kyoshi’s throat. Hands wandered, exploring the familiar yet ever-thrilling territory of intimacy, sending shivers down spines and ripples of longing through the air.

  It was no longer just desire—it was an acknowledgment of need, of mutual vulnerability, and of the growing fire between them. Each touch, each brush of lips, spoke of forgiveness, of reclamation, and of a hunger neither had fully realized until that very moment.

  But paradise was fleeting.

  A shadow fell over them, and Kyoshi’s chest tightened instantly. Lahrheim Perreas—Marcus’s ex, a proud and ambitious omega—stood at the entrance to the garden, arms crossed, eyes sharp and calculating. She had always been a threat, a lingering echo of the past Marcus had tried to bury, and now she was here, witnessing the intensity of what she had once claimed as hers.

  “Well, well…” Lahrheim’s voice was cool, teasing, but with an undercurrent of malice. “I didn’t expect to find you two… so cozy.”

  Marcus stiffened, but he didn’t let go of Kyoshi. “Lahrheim. This isn’t your concern,” he said, voice low, controlled, yet fierce in its protective edge.

  “Oh, but it is,” she said, stepping closer. “Everything about you is my concern, Marcus. And it seems… someone else has caught your attention.”

  Kyoshi felt a shiver of indignation and fear, jealousy mixing with embarrassment. He pressed closer to Marcus, finding comfort in the alpha’s steady presence. Marcus’s eyes darkened, a dangerous gleam that warned Lahrheim without a single word.

  “Stay away from him,” Marcus said, voice low, commanding, dangerous. “He’s mine. Understand?”

  The silence that followed was tense, the air charged with unspoken threats. Lahrheim’s smirk faltered slightly, but she recovered, retreating with a faintly bitter laugh. “We’ll see,” she whispered, leaving as suddenly as she had appeared.

  Kyoshi exhaled shakily, burying his face into Marcus’s chest. The warmth of the alpha enveloped him, shielding him from the cold sting of jealousy, of the past intruding into their fragile present.

  Marcus’s hands traced soothing patterns along Kyoshi’s back, lips brushing against the crown of his head. “No one touches you. Not her, not anyone,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion and desire. “You’re mine, Kyoshi. And I’ll remind you of that every day.”

  Kyoshi tilted his head up, eyes meeting Marcus’s, a mix of fear, longing, and need swimming in his gaze. “And if I… I need more?”

  Marcus’s smirk was predatory, teasing, yet tender. “Then I’ll give it to you. All of it. Every part you crave… every part you’ve denied yourself… I’ll be there.”

  The kiss that followed was electric, urgent, a promise and a claim intertwined. Every touch was deliberate, every movement intimate, as if the world outside—the academy, the storm, the past—did not exist. For that moment, there was only Marcus, only desire, only the unbreakable connection that bound them together.

  By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rooftops, Kyoshi and Marcus had retreated to a more private corner, where whispered confessions mixed with moans, touches, and shared heat. They explored each other slowly, intentionally, with a sensuality that was rich, consuming, and unapologetically intimate. Every kiss, every caress, every whispered plea was a vow—of protection, of desire, and of an unspoken promise that this time, neither would let go.

  As night fell, the city lights reflecting in their entwined forms, Kyoshi realized something profound: love wasn’t just in words or grand gestures. It was in the closeness, the heat, the shared vulnerability, the stolen moments that no one else could touch. And with Marcus by his side, every shadow of doubt, every fear of the past, seemed to fade into irrelevance.

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