33 Who Loves the Villain? 33

"Stop! What are you doing?" Emillian's voice was laced with exasperation. His whispered words cut through the tense air.

Emillian's hands moved with urgency, reaching out to pull Calisto away from Aniel.

Having hastily made his way to the balcony, Calisto finally surveyed the scene. The recognition that he had acted too impulsively dawned on him.

In his eagerness to protect Emillian, he had misunderstood the context, inadvertently causing further trouble. He overreacted and pushed Aniel away from Emillian since it looked like he was bothering him.

As Calisto properly landed his gaze on Aniel, who was now on the floor, the realization swept over him: he had made a mistake coming.

Reacting on instinct, he quickly pinched his nose shut, a simple act aimed at warding off the aroma that hung in the air.

Aniel's pheromones were like a magnet, drawing attention with their undeniable force. An invitation that was impossible to ignore. A fragrant spark that could set a sleeping fire ablaze.

Calisto grappled with a conflict, a showdown between his untamed alpha instincts and the composed demeanor he often wore.

His heart galloped like a wild horse as his desires surged through the edges of his consciousness, threatening to break free from its cage.

Emillian's senses tingled with a sudden realization, and a flicker of fear painted his features, which he could not conceal from his face. A teardrop gathered in the corner of his eye, ready to escape, as he lunged at Calisto.

"No, you can't, Cali!" Emillian's grip on Calisto's shirt was like an anchor, and then he wrapped his arms around him in a bear hug. "You have to leave! Look for Count Brunthe!"

"Please," he whispered, his voice quivering like a fragile leaf in the wind, as he held onto Calisto's shirt with a grip that mirrored his desperation.

Emillian's arms wrapped around Calisto like a lifeline, a soothing balm to his awakening desires. The magnetic pull that had tugged at his senses eased as Emillian's soothing plea.

Unbelievable, he thought, taken aback by how the aroma of a different omega could spark such a reaction within him.

Frustration bubbled up like a kettle nearing a boil, his hands forming tight fists as he tried to manage his growing annoyance.

Calisto left the scene without a word and a last lingering look. His steps were hurried to find Count Brunthe.

Quick as a shadow, Emillian secured the door after Calisto, attempting to shield the banquet from the enticing pull of Aniel's pheromones. But, he knew that even his best intentions could not entirely seal away the leak.

Meanwhile, Anie quivered in his vulnerable state. A few days had just passed since his heat cycle, yet here he was again. His breath emerged in irregular pants, his body responding to the compulsion to mate.

He found himself trapped in a living nightmare, an omega in heat, laid open and surrounded by a swarm of alphas at the crowded event.

The fear of being pounced on ate away at him. It sent shudders rippling down his spine, and his heart raced within his ribcage.

"Lord Aniel, I have my suppressants with me. Here," Emillian said, pulling a small potion vial from his pants pocket.

Aniel briefly hesitated. Suppressants had been a gamble to ease his instincts. Their success was uncertain, a risk he embraced. He took the vial from Emillian's outstretched hand and consumed its contents.

"Why is he taking so long?" Emillian asked outwardly, looking over the balcony's door.

Aniel pulled his attention away from his thoughts, following Emillian's gaze. Beyond the balcony, a cluster of guests gathered, their inquiring looks aimed at the door as if attempting to uncover what was happening.

An inundation of shame swept through him, suffusing his cheeks with a subtle rosy hue. He curled up slightly as he sat, evading the looks, and glanced off to the side.

Emillian seemed to grasp the situation and quickly closed the curtains. Seating himself beside Aniel, he held his hand and offered reassurance, "This will pass soon."

Aniel's heart swelled, finding solace in the comforting words from the protagonist, and his eyes became moist.

…

The carriage moved smoothly through the streets, carrying Emillian and Calisto. Their carriage followed the one in front, bringing Emillian's parents and younger brother.

The celebration was cut short due to the incident. Emillian left the palace without a clear update on Aniel's state, clouding his mind. A sigh slipped from his lips as he leaned back against the comfortable cushioned seat.

Sitting opposite Calisto in the carriage, Emillian's gaze seemed far away. Calisto's brow furrowed with concern, his gaze locked onto Emillian, seeking explanations.

A weighty hush settled amidst them like a thick haze, softening every noise to a mere whisper. Eventually, Calisto broke the silence, his words showing the confusion over the events that evening.

"What happened on the balcony, Ian?" he asked.

Emillian's eyes wandered to the window, and he scrunched up his forehead, showing deep thought. He wasn't entirely sure, but what went on was stuck in his head like a clear picture.

The whole thing all started when they shook hands. Right at that moment, their skin made contact. And then, there was this jolt that seemed to hit Aniel.

Emillian was just as surprised, looking baffled because he had no idea why Aniel had that reaction.

Calisto inquired, "Did it happen when you two were alone?"

However, he didn't get a response.

Emillian's mind was elsewhere, and his gaze shifted momentarily to his cufflinks. He absentmindedly played with them, then realized something wasn't right.

One of the cufflinks was gone. Panic took over, his heart pounding as he desperately searched for the missing cufflink.

That cufflink? It was not just any accessory. It belonged to Skyle, the person he was about to marry. It held the smell of Skyle, which brought comfort when they were apart.

"Uh, c, can we stop for a second?" Emillian's voice trembled, a touch of desperation showing through.

Emillian's hands trembled as he frantically searched through the mess in his pocket. His heart raced in his chest, its beats echoing the rapid pace of his thoughts.

He swiveled to face Calisto, his eyes practically begging. "I lost Skyle's cufflink! I, I need to get it back!"

"Please," his voice cracked, an urgent plea as he turned to Calisto, desperation in his wide eyes. "We have to stop. I can't lose this, not now. Skyle–"

"We can't, Ian. There are other carriages behind us," Calisto said, his tone carrying practicality that contrasted with Emillian's passionate plea. "And I doubt Count Brunthe would let anyone inside the Vessa Hall at the moment."

"B, But–" Emillian's lips moved as if to add something. He seemed on the verge of uttering another desperate request, but his words faded.

In the midst of their conversation, the air seemed to carry a distant echo. It was a faint yet unmistakable sound of a horn. Its notes were taken by the wind, piercing through the silent night and reaching their ears like a distant cry.

Calisto's attention shifted, his brows furrowing in response to the unexpected sound.

His eyes narrowed as if seeking to decipher the message carried by the distant horn. And then, realization seemed to dawn upon him.

"...The army is back," Calisto muttered.