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That weekend, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing.

I had slept in until 10 am, which almost never happened, probably because I hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before, tangled up in a mess of emotions I couldn’t even begin to unravel.

The name ‘Finn’ flashed across the screen.

I cursed under my breath. Another week had passed without me answering his calls. He was probably starting to think something had happened to me. Maybe I should pick up? But my fingers refused to press the damn button.

Eventually, the ringing stopped. A few seconds later, I heard the chime of a new voicemail. I played it back.

"Seriously, Winter? This isn’t normal anymore."

That was all he said.

Ugh. Come on, Finn… I let out a quiet sigh and sank back into bed.

I, Winter Nolan, a serious department director, a level-headed man, always in control, was having sexual fantasies about one of my employees.

Yeah. That’s right.

I was risking everything. My entire career. My reputation.

If Jacob ever found out that his own son was the object of my daydreams, I’d be kicked out of this company so fast my head would spin.

That was something Jacob would never forgive me for, no matter how many years of friendship we had between us.

I knew, whatever was happening between me and Sariel, it couldn’t go any further.

One more step, and it would be a disaster.

I’d have to start over. Look for a new job.

Maybe D-Project? The thought crossed my mind, but then I immediately remembered why that wasn’t an option. I hated their CEO. The guy was an alpha, the worst kind. The insecure type who got off on making his employees’ lives miserable.

I had plenty of colleagues working at D-Project, and I actually had good connections with their upper management. But the idea of switching jobs, uprooting my career over this—

Wait. Stop. What the hell was I even thinking?!

Quitting my job? Over this? This was getting ridiculous. I didn’t even know what Sariel thought about any of it. And for God’s sake, he was twenty-two years old. There was a twelve-year age gap between us. This was too insane.

Then, like a switch flipping in my mind, I suddenly remembered the way he’d touched me in that meeting.

Something had happened to me then, something physical. The sensation had been intoxicating, almost euphoric. It sent delicate waves through my body, pleasurable shivers, making me crave more.

I wanted to sink into him. Into his scent, fresh and minty (which, honestly, wasn’t surprising). That invigorating aura of his wrapped around me, pulled me in, and it felt… incredible.

But those were just fantasies, and they needed to stay locked inside my head forever. I had already let this go way too far.

And then there was that figurine.

My gaze shifted to the small crystal statue now sitting on my nightstand.

An ice elf prince, carved from glass. Sariel had said it reminded him of me, though I was apparently ‘even more beautiful’. A ridiculous joke. Maybe his idea of a weird compliment. But he had no clue what really lay beneath my surface.

I was nothing like an ice prince. Inside, I wasn’t cold, I was burning.

With anger, bitterness, frustration.

And hunger, for more.

More out of my fucking life!

Without thinking, my hand drifted downward, grazing over my body.

For a beta, I had always been very satisfied with my size, eight and a half inches, thick and heavy in my palm.

Now, my thoughts drifted back to that moment by the elevator when he had grabbed my hand. I had been this close, so damn close, to pulling him against me, to feeling him right there, pressed tightly to my chest.

There wasn’t a huge height difference between us. I was six foot one and a half, and he was six foot four—a perfect height for kissing. Almost too perfect. He’d only have to lean down a little. And if I raised my arms, wrapped them around his neck…

We would have kissed right there in the hallway, forgetting everything. Forgetting the consequences. I could have let go. Let myself surrender to something I had never allowed in my life: absolute chaos.

To give in. To lose.

It would have been beautiful, the feeling of falling after spending my entire life climbing, scaling a vertical wall, every movement precise, controlled, clinging to every rule, every responsibility, every damn expectation. No more ‘you have to do this’, or ‘you can’t do that’.

I would have been free.

So what if I really… let go?

A surprising wave of pleasure washed over me at the thought, unwelcome but intense. My grip tightened around my still-hard cock, my body demanding action.

No.

That was too much.

My mind clawed its way back to the edge of that vertical wall, regaining focus, forcing itself into control.

I ordered myself to stop. Let out a slow breath. Sat up, abandoning any thought of jerking off.

Instead, I went to my home gym and started running.

Fast.

Lately, jogging had become my new escape. Playing bass had stopped working that well, since I could still drift into unwelcome, inappropriate thoughts. And here, on the treadmill, I could go for an hour straight at a solid pace, burning off the restless energy tearing me apart. Physically, I was in great shape. But mentally? That was another story.

And why? Because of some kid I had met only a handful of times?

Was there something more to this?

Was this ridiculous, impossible attraction trying to tell me something I wasn’t seeing?

What about that shock when he touched me? That weird, electric jolt that shot through my body?

It couldn’t mean anything. Betas didn’t experience the First Touch . Only alphas and omegas did. Betas had no easy ways to recognize their True Mates, an extremely rare phenomenon, even if they were standing right in front of them.

So what the hell was that? Maybe I was going through some kind of mid-thirties crisis?

That would honestly make sense, because in any normal situation, I would never be interested in an alpha.

My phone beeped again.

"And? Still the silent treatment?"

Another text message from Finn.

For fuck’s sake, why was he so persistent!

As I stepped into the shower, cold water streamed over me, washing away the sweat from my run. But my thoughts wouldn’t let go.

They dragged me right back to Sariel.

But this time, they were much more grim. My face returned to the usual stern expression, my brows furrowed.

There was a very real possibility that, to him, this was all just a game. A stupid little game of cat and mouse.

Maybe he was just toying with me?

Taunting me. Pushing exactly the right buttons, provoking me into the trap.

And once that thought lodged itself in my brain, it refused to leave.

He could be one of those alphas… the ones who always got what they wanted, no matter the cost. He remembered that I had rejected him months ago, and most likely hated me for it. He knew I had complained about him to his father, and it added even more hate.

What if this was all just his revenge? What if I let something happen between us, and then he laughed in my face?

Said something like, "Well, well, look at that. You didn’t want me then, but now you’re hard as a rock for me, huh, beta?"

It wasn’t impossible.

Hell, it was very possible.

Maybe even likely.

He was setting me up. Trying to break me. Mock me.

The decision had to be made for my safety. I wasn’t going to fall for this. No matter how much he got under my skin.

No matter what those sharp, cat-like eyes of his did to me, how they made something inside me bloom like a damn spring meadow.

No. Enough. For my own sanity, I had to set a boundary. Keep my distance. Avoid him at all costs. I had to protect myself.

And then, the very next day, I failed.

***

When I arrived at work that morning, Sariel was already waiting by the elevator with a group of employees.

I stepped up beside them, eyes glued to my phone, pretending I didn’t see him.

Silence.

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open.

I slipped into the farthest corner, but Sariel stepped inside right beside me.

More people kept piling in. Too many. The building itself belonged to Lowens, but it housed multiple companies, one of which was apparently hosting an event, and the crowd was getting ridiculous.

People from the back called out, "Come on, squeeze in! We’re gonna be late!"

And then, just like that, I was being crushed from all sides.

I hated this.

I hated being touched by strangers.

Annoyance flared in my chest—

But before I could react, something unexpected happened.

Sariel shifted sideways and braced one arm in front of me, shielding me from the press of bodies.

He created a stable barrier around me, arms locked against the walls, holding back the crowd. Now, I was the only one in the elevator who wasn’t being crushed.

I lifted my eyes slightly, meeting his gaze. Why did he care whether I was getting squished by the employees? Surprisingly considerate, almost as if he had read my mind.

Sariel wore a faint smile, looking at me from up close. We were nearly touching. I stood there comfortably, while he had to struggle against the weight of the crowd. I could see the strain on his face, his arms tensing as he resisted the pressure.

As an alpha, he was undoubtedly the strongest person in that elevator, alphas had strength comparable to gorillas, while betas and omegas didn’t stand out much beyond what ancient humans had.

Finally, the last of the people forcing their way in decided it was full enough. The doors closed with some effort, and the elevator began to move.

Sariel kept watching me, and I kept watching him.

I felt a little strange, standing there in silence, but I also knew that if I said anything, I’d just be feeding into whatever peculiar thing was forming between us.

His smirk irritated me. Did he have to be like this? Was this all part of his game?

He seemed oddly immune to all signs of my disinterest, in a way… relentless. But that only fueled my suspicions.

Was he trying to win me over at any cost, just to get back at me? Probably.

Today, he was wearing a black T-shirt, like always. My eyes drifted down to his chest.

The drawing printed there depicted… fuck. It was almost a romantic scene!

An elven prince with long white hair, dressed in soft gray-blue coronation robes, stood in a garden full of blooming flowers.

Next to him stood a mint-haired man, in a similarly elegant medieval robe and… wait! The hands of these characters were, in fact, touching, just like ours had during the meeting! Only barely. Shyly, the side of Sariel’s hand was touching the side of the prince’s.

"You’re quite passionate about drawing things that can never be true," I said in a dry tone.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have reacted. Shouldn’t have let him know I saw it, understood it, what he was trying to communicate…

"Oh, but they are already true." His lips stretched in a subtle smirk.

I didn’t answer. It was bizarrely stirring, knowing that he had drawn me, over and over, day after day, spent time sketching my face, carefully refining every detail on his tablet.

But I schooled my expression to stay neutral. I had to act like I just… ignored it, to keep up the illusion of indifference, of professionalism.

Standing this close, I was lightly surrounded by his scent—a cool, peppermint freshness. It was pleasant. I so wanted to inhale more deeply, but I hadn’t lost my mind just yet.

The elevator slowly emptied, but not enough for the space to feel open. By the time we reached our floor, there were still plenty of people inside. When it was time for us to get out, Sariel turned slightly and said, his voice assertive, "Make some room, gentlemen."

A moment later, I stepped out into the hallway without any trouble.

There was a moment when I could’ve said something, but I didn’t. After a beat of hesitation, I just turned and walked to my office, no ‘thank you’, nothing.

Sariel followed, two steps behind. I could hear him. Feel him. Ignoring him felt wrong. I was being inconsistent, sometimes I acted like I didn’t care, and other times… not so much.

The time was coming. I really needed to pull myself together. And figure out what I wanted.

Whether to fall, or keep climbing.