I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

”Move over.”

Cherion didn’t even have time to object before the large frame of the Duke slipped onto the small wooden bench right beside him. The bench was clearly designed for a single scholar, meaning their hips and shoulders instantly flushed against one another.

Across the room, Marielle didn’t even bother looking up from her self-imposed torture. She had given up on the chairs entirely, opting to slide down until she was sitting flat on the floor, her back leaned against a massive shelf dedicated to ancient imperial tax laws. She had a thick botanical ledger resting on her knees, her fingers mindlessly turning pages while she let out a low, pathetic groan.

”If I die of boredom in this room, please tell the others I went down fighting a dragon,” Marielle muttered to the ceiling. ”It sounds much more honorable than being taken out by a Chapter on poisonous nightshades.”

A few paces away, tucked safely into the deep shadows of the towering shelves where no outside eyes could spot him, Flio stood perfectly still. He had an open book propped firmly in his hands.

Down beneath the edge of the desk, hidden completely from view by the heavy shadow of the tabletop and Zarius’s cloak, a large, calloused hand slipped quietly forward. Zarius’s fingers brushed against Cherion’s palm before sliding deeper, locking their fingers together in a tight grip.

Cherion didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed back, a soft, content sigh escaping his lips. He leaned his shoulder just slightly more into Zarius’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat doing more work than any reassurance could.

Zarius looked down at the open book between them, his sharp eyes scanning the faded ink diagrams of lethal poisons, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. ”This reminds me of back then,” he murmured, his voice a barely audible rumble near Cherion’s ear.

Cherion tilted his head, a small, nostalgic smile playing at the corners of his lips. ”When we were running around trying to figure out your curse? And what exactly my power was supposed to do with it?”

”Indeed,” Zarius said, his thumb mindlessly brushing against the back of Cherion’s knuckles. ”Though back then, we didn’t have my sister complaining on the floor.”

”Hey! I can hear you!” Marielle called out without opening her eyes. ”And for the record, my complaints are entirely valid.”

”We always did it at night,” Cherion ignored her, his eyes softening as he looked at their joined hands. ”Always in the middle of the night, when the rest of the world was asleep. And it was always only the two of us.”

”It was quieter then,” Zarius noted, his gaze shifting from the book directly to Cherion’s face, his dark eyes darkening with an intensity that made Cherion’s throat go dry. ”Fewer eyes. Fewer distractions.”

Before the atmosphere could get any heavier, Flio’s quiet footsteps echoed against the floor. ”I am going to check the upper level,” Flio announced. ”There may be a more detailed index on eastern imports in the upper historical stacks.”

”Take your time, Flio,” Cherion said, perhaps a little too quickly.

Flio offered a polite, knowing bow of his head before disappearing up the spiral iron staircase, his footsteps fading into the upper levels until the silence returned.

The second Flio was out of sight, Zarius shifted. His free hand reached up, his long fingers gently cupping the side of Cherion’s jaw, his thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. The touch was entirely different from the rough, invasive grip Yerel had forced on him earlier. Zarius was gentle, but there was an underlying possessiveness in the way he tilted Cherion’s face upward.

”Zarius, wait,” Cherion whispered, his cheeks flushing a sudden, brilliant pink. He shot a frantic glance over toward the aisle where Marielle was sitting, though a massive row of encyclopedias blocked her direct line of sight. ”Marielle is right there. And Flio could come back down at any second.”

”Let them,” Zarius murmured against his lips. ”Even if they catch us, they wouldn’t dare say a word.”

And then he closed the distance.

The kiss was slow, deep, and utterly dizzying. It tasted faintly of the bitter tea they had drank this morning, mixed with the sharp, intoxicating heat that always flared between them when they were alone. Cherion let out a soft, defeated breath, his hands instinctively reaching up to bunch into the heavy fabric of Zarius’s collar, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened as Zarius’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into Cherion’s waist as he pulled him flush against his chest, completely erasing whatever space was left between them.

Zarius caught Cherion’s lower lip between his teeth, giving it a sharp nip that made Cherion let out a quiet, muffled gasp against his mouth. He didn’t waste the opportunity, using the slight parting of Cherion’s lips to slide his tongue inside, tasting him completely.

Cherion melted, his fingers gripping the heavy fabric of Zarius’s collar just to keep his balance. Zarius swirled his tongue deeply, capturing every corner, while his lips locked onto Cherion’s with a fierce, demanding pull that made Cherion’s knees go completely weak under the desk.

Zarius growled softly, his grip tightening around Cherion’s waist, pulling him entirely onto his lap...

BAM!

The massive doors at the front of the library slammed open with a violent, echoing crash that reverberated through the three-story building like a cannon shot.

Cherion scrambled backward so fast he nearly flipped the wooden chair over, his face burning a bright, furious crimson as he grabbed the nearest, heaviest history book on the desk and shoved it directly in front of his face, pretending to read an upside-down page on crop rotations.

Zarius, utilizing his terrifying military reflexes, didn’t even look flustered. Within half a second, he was suddenly standing three feet away, leaning casually against a towering bookshelf with his arms crossed, looking for all the world like a man who had been deeply contemplating the architecture of the ceiling.

”Ah! There you all are!” Elios’s loud, booming voice shattered the sacred library quiet as he came marching down the central aisle. He looked dramatically disheveled, his tunic slightly crooked, with Reiner and Ezek trailing a few paces behind him looking equally exhausted.

Elios stopped at the entrance of their aisle, throwing his hands up in a gesture of pure defeat. ”I am incredibly sorry we took so long, Your Grace.”

He stopped, his sharp eyes darting between Zarius, who was looking exceptionally blank-faced, and Cherion, who was completely invisible behind a massive leather-bound book.

Elios blinked, crossing his arms as a highly suspicious smirk began to crawl onto his face. ”What exactly are you two doing? Did I miss something?”

”Reading a book,” Zarius said flatly, gesturing to the scattered pages on the desk. His eyes, however, weren’t nearly as calm as his voice.

Slowly, carefully, Cherion lowered the massive book from his face. His heart was still hammering against his ribs, hoping they hadn’t seen what he and Zarius were doing.