I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The library at night was an entirely different beast than it was by day. When the sun was out, the dust sparkled like it was auditioning for a fantasy movie. But now? The shadows between the giant shelves looked like they were one step away from jumping him.

Cherion stood in the center of the vast, circular room, feeling rather like a very small mouse in a very large, silent cathedral. He’d tried to visit Zarius after dinner, he really had. He’d even prepared tea for him, but Soren had stopped him.

”The Duke is resting, Sir Cherion. It would be... unwise to disturb the silence he’s finally found.”

Ok, fine.

So, here Cherion was.

He glanced out the tall windows at the night sky. ”He should be fine by now.”

He shivered, pulling his robe tighter around his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much he’d relied on Zarius’s presence the other night. When the Duke was here, the library felt okay. Without him? It just felt old and cold. And perhaps a bit haunted by the ghosts of previous scholars.

”Get a grip, Cherion,” he whispered, shaking his head. ”You’re not a grown man about to lose a fight with his own imagination.”

Determined to convince himself he wasn’t a total wimp, he stomped over to the table they’d been sitting at before. The books were still there, stacked like a wobbly Jungo tower. He plopped into the chair and dragged the closest one over.

He was so deep into the text for a while, so focused on the intricacies of heart-valves and aether-veins, that the world outside the circle of his single candle simply ceased to exist.

”Starting without me? How rude.”

”Wwooaahh—!”

The sound that left Cherion’s throat was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a ’manly’ sound. It was a high-pitched, startled chirp that ended in a gasp as he nearly tumbled backward off the chair. His heart did a frantic, painful somersault against his ribs.

He spun around, clutching the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

Zarius was there.

The Duke was leaning against one of the tall shelves behind him with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked... Well, he didn’t look like a man who’d been completely wrecked just hours ago. He looked like he walked out of a vampire-themed action movie...

”Your Grace!” Cherion wheezed, his hand flying to his chest to keep his heart from leaping out. ”By the gods... don’t do that! You nearly gave me a stroke.”

Zarius tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. ”You really have to work on your awareness, little Omega. I’ve been standing there for at least ten minutes. A halfway decent assassin could have had your head on a platter before you finished that paragraph.”

Cherion let out a long, shaky breath and sank back into the chair like it owed him money. He felt his face heat up, partly from the scare, the rest from the teasing. ”Oh, I am so sorry,” he said. ”Please forgive me for being so incredibly focused on my research, which, I might add, is for your benefit, that I failed to notice a tall man like you lurking in the shadows like a gargoyle.”

Zarius didn’t seem offended. He pushed off the shelf and moved into the light, his footsteps making no sound on the stone floor. It was unnerving.

”Why are you here?” Cherion asked, trying to regain his composure.

He walked to the opposite side of the table but didn’t sit immediately. ”I believe I told you once before: I won’t have you wandering this library alone.”

Cherion rolled his eyes, the fear finally melting into a mix of irritation and ”here we go again.”. ”Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m not going to burn the place down. And besides, I thought you’d want to... well, sleep? After what happened earlier today, rest is usually the standard prescription.”

Zarius pulled out the chair and took a seat. ”I told you. I’m okay now. The... affliction... has passed.”

”Are you sure, Your Grace?” Cherion asked, leaning forward.

”Is that concern I hear?” Zarius asked back.

”Of course it is,” Cherion replied instantly, perhaps too fast. ”You are my patient. My primary responsibility in this gods-forsaken frost-land is to ensure you don’t drop dead while I’m on the clock.”

Suddenly, the library felt like it had been dipped in tension sauce. Zarius was staring like Cherion had just insulted his favorite chair. That magnetic pull hit again. Zarius’s stare made Cherion feel like he’d accidentally left a raccoon in the pantry. Lean in? Run? He couldn’t decide.

Then, as quickly as the tension had built up, it snapped.

Zarius reached out and grabbed a random book from the pile and flipped it open.

”Fine,” the Duke said.

Cherion blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the awkward prickle at the back of his neck. ”Fine by me. Just... try not to scare me again.”

Cherion forced his eyes back on the anatomy charts, but let’s be honest. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Zarius. The Duke wasn’t really reading. Nope. He was staring at the pages like he was about to summon a fireball or at least roast marshmallows

Cherion bit his lower lip, a little mental itch he couldn’t shake. When he’d said ’You are my patient’, a shadow had crossed Zarius’s face. like he’d just smelled something bad, but with way more intensity. It wasn’t anger. Not his usual frosty ”I might freeze your soul” glare.

It was... something else. Confusing. Slightly judgmental.

It looked almost like... disappointment.

But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Why would the Great Wolf of the North be disappointed by a simple statement of fact? He was the patient. Cherion was the dotor.

That was the boundary.

That was the only reason they were sitting in a dark library together at midnight.