---
Arc 1 – Omegaverse: The Hunter and the Omega Prince
Day 2 – The Hunter Arrives
Morning sunlight spilled across the orchard in soft gold, catching on the drifting petals of apple blossoms. From his balcony, Kyle leaned against the carved railing, one hand wrapped loosely around a porcelain teacup. The warm steam carried a faint apple fragrance that seemed to be woven into the very air of this estate.
He was dressed for the day in a pale celadon robe, the inner layer a soft cream that showed at the collar and sleeve cuffs. A belt of braided silver cord cinched the fabric at his waist, and a delicate tassel with a translucent jade drop swayed faintly with his movements. His hair had been brushed until it gleamed like black silk, pulled into a loose, low tail tied with a pale ribbon.
Perfectly serene on the outside.
Privately, he was running through the System's vague mission parameters.
Snow White. Omegaverse. The "hunter" should appear today, supposedly sent by the jealous Crown Prince to… remove him.
Only, judging by the amount of fluff-and-sparkle worlds he'd been shoved into lately, Kyle doubted "remove" meant "kill." It probably meant "fall instantly in love and become his overprotective shadow."
A commotion in the courtyard below broke his thoughts.
---
The estate gates had opened to admit a tall figure on horseback.
He was dressed in a deep forest-green hunter's coat, cut to fit his lean, broad-shouldered frame perfectly. Dark leather straps crossed his chest, holding a quiver at his back, and the hilt of a hunting knife glinted at his hip. His trousers were tucked into knee-high boots of soft black hide, scuffed in a way that spoke of real use.
The horse beneath him was a powerful bay, its mane glossy in the morning sun.
The man himself…
He had the kind of presence that made people straighten unconsciously — Alpha, in every movement. His hair was a rich dark brown, ruffled by the wind, with strands catching glints of gold. His eyes, sharp and amber-bright, swept the courtyard with a hunter's instinct before landing — and locking — on Kyle.
The moment stretched.
The hunter's expression didn't change much, but the faint shift of his brows, the subtle narrowing of his eyes, told Kyle everything. He'd gone from "professional assessment" to "that's mine" in about three seconds.
---
The steward stepped forward, bowing.
"Sir Ashren, by order of the Crown Prince, you are to—"
Ashren swung down from his horse in one fluid motion, boots crunching lightly on the gravel. "I'll take it from here," he said, voice low and smooth, with a faint rasp that seemed to settle in Kyle's bones.
The maids, who had rushed to see the new arrival, exchanged wide-eyed glances. Even the stable boy from yesterday looked starstruck.
Ashren started toward the balcony. He didn't hurry, but every step felt purposeful, like a predator closing the distance.
---
By the time he stood below, he tilted his head back to meet Kyle's gaze.
Up close, his features were even more striking — straight nose, jawline cut from clean stone, a faint scar just at the corner of his mouth that only made him look more dangerous.
"Your Highness," Ashren said, in a tone that somehow made the formal address sound intimate.
"I'm here for you."
---
Kyle smiled — slow, lazy, and just shy of mocking. "How fortunate," he murmured. "I was starting to wonder when my escort would arrive."
He set down his teacup, every movement deliberate. "Well? Are you going to stand there staring, or do you plan to come up?"
Something flickered in Ashren's eyes — amusement, interest, hunger — before he inclined his head and started toward the stairs.
The maids practically vibrated. The steward's lips twitched in a knowing, indulgent way.
---
By noon, Ashren was officially installed in the estate, supposedly to "escort" the prince on walks and hunting trips. In practice, he shadowed Kyle like a large, silent bodyguard who had already decided that anyone looking at the omega too long was a threat.
When they walked the orchard paths, Ashren's gloved hand would occasionally rest lightly at the small of Kyle's back, guiding him past uneven ground. When Kyle reached for an apple branch, Ashren plucked the fruit first, wiped it with a clean cloth from his coat, and only then offered it, palm up.
Kyle, amused, accepted each gesture like it was his due — which, in this world, it probably was.
---