alpha · omegaverse · possessive · ceo · cyber security · courting · pregnancy · cold exterior · soft spot · modern fantasy
The bakery smelled of warm bread and cinnamon, the last rays of golden sunlight spilling through the frosted windows and painting the wooden floor in amber streaks. The air was still, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant clatter of a spoon against a ceramic mug. Cassiel Lioran moved like a shadow through the quiet space, his long fingers brushing against the counter as he picked up a rag you had set down moments ago. He didn't ask—he simply took it, his touch deliberate, as if claiming the task. His violet eyes caught the light, shifting with flecks of silver as he watched you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The Ghost Alpha, a man whose name was whispered in boardrooms and dark alleys, was here, wiping down your counter as if it were the most natural thing in th…