003

Ten days later, Lucian returned to his home at the countryside. Although it was modest compared to the grand manor in Linfield, it was still the largest property in town. Green plants lined the paths, creating intricate patterns that guided carriages and visitors to the white villa. Dull vines, bare of flowers, clung to portions of the villa’s walls. The sight of the neglected plants stirred a bittersweet feeling in Sarang, who stared at them until he was called inside.

The servants greeted Lucian warmly, relieved with his safe return, but their eyes soon drifted to the unfamiliar child clinging to their master's side..

Lucian Blackwell was an intimidating alpha in his thirties. He was very attractive with wavy chestnut hair, onyx eyes, and a thick beard that framed his rugged, olive, skin. A faded scar ran across his left cheek, enhancing his imposing presence. Yet, the beautiful child grasping his hand without fear amused the servants.

“Father!” A bubbly voice called.

Sarang gawked at the boy around his age, who acknowledged Lucian as his father. This young boy was Nathaniel Blackwell.

Nathaniel appeared nothing like his father. With golden hair, playful amber eyes, and soft, warm, plump porcelain skin, Nathaniel had inherited the delicate beauty of his late mother, Grace Blackwell. She had been praised for her ethereal beauty—a soft, balanced contrast to Lucian’s rough and exotic features.

Nathaniel’s attention shifted to the small child hiding behind his father. This was his first time seeing a guest of his father smaller than himself, he stared blatantly.

“I brought you a playmate. He’ll be living with us.” Lucian said and caressed Sarang’s hair. “Don’t be shy.”

Lucian stepped aside, allowing Nathaniel to approached. Sarang bowed, his slanted blue eyes met Nathaniel’s wide amber gaze.

“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.” Nathaniel remarked, staring in fascination.

 Sarang examined his arms. “Me too.”

“My name is Nathaniel Blackwell.”

“Sarang.”

“That’s a strange name. How old are you?” Nathaniel asked, leaning closer.

Sarang counted on his fingers and raised six fingers.

“I’m a year older.” Nathaniel gloated with pride.

“One year?” Sarang raised a finger, confused.

“No! Seven!” Nathaniel huffed, holding up seven fingers.

Sarang counted Nathaniel’s fingers in his mother’s tongue, then smiled. “Seven.”

The servants, watching the boys’ exchange, giggled softly at their innocent chatter. Sarang’s hesitant responses and frequent silences tested Nathaniel’s patience, but the older boy didn’t seem to mind.

“Sarang understands our tongue, but struggles with speaking and reading. Be patient with him.” Lucian requested.

“Will Sarang be tutored with me, father?” Nathaniel asked excitedly, elated with the thought of sharing lessons with Sarang.

“No. I will personally oversee Sarang’s education.” Lucian replied firmly.

“Oh…” Nathaniel slumped his shoulders and brows drooped.

Father had never tutored him, he was always… busy.

“Go out and play. I’m sure Sarang will love the view of the garden.” Lucian suggested and Nathaniel perked up.

“You’ll love mother’s garden. There are so many colourful flowers.”

Without warning, Nathaniel grabbed Sarang’s arm, pulling the reluctant child outside with him.

The lights burned low past midnight as Lucian worked in his study. The spacious room was lined with shelves in different corners filled with books, journals, documents, and a bottle of brandy on his cluttered desk. Lucian gazed at the moonlight reflecting off his paper and closed the curtains when the door creaked, interrupting the cold eerie quiet.

“Excellent timing. Brew me a cup of tea.” Lucian instructed and faced the door.

Sarang stood there, gripping the doorknob, and scrutinising him. Lucian frowned in disbelief at the child approaching him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Lucian questioned and Sarang stopped.

“Waiting for master.” Sarang replied.

“You need to learn to sleep on your own.”

“One time.” Sarang raised his index finger.

“One time became every night.”

“One time please. Small master kicks and talk in sleep.”

This was a lost battle. Lucian had spoilt Sarang from the night he brought him into his household and however he tried, he struggled to tell the sweet, oblivious child “No”.

“Only tonight.” Lucian warned. “Otherwise, Nathaniel will pick up your bad habits.”

Sarang sheepishly grinned and grabbed his master’s hand, leading him away from his study to the alpha’s bedroom. Sarang enthusiastically hopped onto the bed. Lucian retrieved a small box from his drawer and sat beside Sarang who watched him open the box, filled with curiosity.

Inside the box was a collar.

Lucian held it under the dim light. It was a simple band made of soft, black leather for comfort and a graving underneath. He wrapped it around Sarang's pale neck, securing it with a small lock in front. Sarang gazed at Lucian’s eyes, entranced by the colours fading from onyx to bright red. He felt docile under the alpha’s intense gaze.

“Sarang,”  Lucian’s voice rumbled, deep and commanding.

“Yes master.” Sarang replied, bobbing his head under the influence of Lucian’s pheromone.

“Never remove this collar in front of another without my permission. Likewise, do not fiddle with the lock. Now… sleep.”

Lucian clasped his hand over Sarang’s eyes, and the child slumped against it, succumbing to sleep. He rested Sarang’s head on the pillow and touched the lock before he covered him with the blanket.

“I’m sorry.” Lucian whispered and left.

Nathaniel dashed to his mother’s garden after his lessons, excitement bubbling within him. The garden was a tapestry of colours: daffodils, roses, lilies, and lush trees arranged in neat rows creating a serene and enchanting atmosphere. Hidden away by the trees was a small pavilion, draped in white, flowering vines offering the best view of the garden.

Sarang sat on the bench in the pavilion, reciting English alphabets he had practiced with his master as he scribbled it on his notebook.

“Sarang!” Nathaniel called, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“Small master!” Sarang said with a pleasant smile.

“It’s young master.” Nathaniel pouted.

“But you’re small.”

“As a child I’m expected to be small, but I’ll grow soon. And when I do, I’ll marry you.”

Sarang looked puzzled. “Marry? What’s it?”

Nathaniel blushed. “Marry means you’ll be my husband and we’ll live together forever with children when we’re older.”

“Then we are marry. Master, you, and me live together and we are children.”

“Not like that. Father married mother and had me. If I marry you, we will have our own child.”

“Only omegas have child. Beta.” Sarang pointed at himself.

“I might be an omega!” Nathaniel blushed. “People say I am my mother’s son.”

“Has small master met mother?” Sarang asked, abandoning his lessons.

“Yes. Mother died when I was four but to be honest, I don’t remember much of her.”

“Sorry.” Sarang patted his back. “I have no mother or father, only name mother gave me… Sarang. Sarang is love.”

Sarang took Nathaniel’s palm and traced the character for Sarang with his index finger. Nathaniel watched intently, feeling a gentle tingle from Sarang’s touch. He seared Sarang’s image into his heart: his long white lashes fluttering, his clear pale skin, his pinks lips whispering his own name, and the strange object on his neck.

He caressed the collar.

“When did you get a collar?” Nathaniel asked and reached for the lock, but Sarang instinctively covered it.

There was a collar on his neck. He hadn’t noticed. “I don’t know.”

“How did you not notice?”

“Sleeping, I think. Please help me.” Sarang handed Nathaniel a book. “Master say learn. This one is hard.”

Sarang pointed out the difficult word in the picture book.

“Ape.” Nathaniel read.

“Ape? Not monkey?” Sarang asked innocently.

“No. This is an orangutan also called primates or apes.”

“Wow!! Small master is very smart!” Sarang’s clapped and giggled over Nathaniel’s curt explanation.

“It sounds sarcastic when you add small. Until your vocabulary improves, call me Nathan.” Nathaniel insisted.

“Cannot. Slaves do not dare.”

“You’re not a slave, you’re my friend.”

“Still...”

“How about this? Whenever we’re alone, call me Nathan. It’ll be our secret to signify our friendship.”

Sarang smiled, “Okay, Nathan.”

Nathan smiled at him. “Let me help with your work.”