Jakrapatr Estate, Bangkok. 11:47pm. Wedding Night.

The temple bells had stopped hours ago. The guests were gone. The contract was signed.

Est Supha sat on the edge of a bed that smelled like sandalwood and strangers. Cherry with sweet cream clung to his skin, nervous and bright. Male omega. Gentle. Possessive in ways he didn’t have words for yet.

Down the hall, William Jakrapatr sat on his own bed in his own wing. Male alpha. Vanilla with espresso scent thick in the air, but only he could smell it. He’d loosened his collar twice already.

They were married. Fiancées since they were 22. Legally bound since this morning.

And they were not allowed to touch.

Old custom. Both families enforced it. “Alpha should only consummate with his Omega after 1 year. For bond strengthening. For patience.”

No shared room. No shared table. No shared air, if they could help it. Servants moved between them like walls.

William pressed his forehead to the cool window glass. One year. 365 nights. He whispered into the dark: “Est.” Just his name. It tasted like prayer and ache.

Across the estate, Est hugged a pillow to his chest. Cherry scent spiked, then softened. He whispered back to no one: “William.” His voice cracked. Not from tears. From wanting.

A servant knocked. Slid an envelope under Est’s door. No name. Just his handwriting on the outside:

For my husband.

Est picked it up with shaking hands. Inside, one sentence in black ink:

I can smell cherry from here. It’s driving me insane. One year. I can wait. But I don’t want to. - W

Est pressed the paper to his face. Vanilla and espresso. Faint. Already fading. He folded it and hid it under his pillow.