𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑃𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝐻𝑒𝑖𝑟

Several years had passed since the end of the war. The Malfoy family had lost most of its influence. The Malfoy name was no longer as respected or feared as it once had been. Their reputation had been tarnished ever since the war came to an end. However, there was still one thing that gave the Malfoys hope: Draco Malfoy. Not only because he was the last heir of the family, but also because he was a beautiful, pure-blood male Omega who was incredibly rare and highly sought after by pure-blood families all across Britain.

Even before he was born, Draco's entire life had already been decided. From his social circle, education, and future career, to even the person he was destined to marry.

But Draco hated that... He hated the idea of an arranged marriage. He would rather face anything else than be forced into one. Draco had been betrothed to a pure-blood Alpha from a prestigious family: you. He rejected the arrangement without hesitation. Not because he knew them. Quite the opposite. Draco had never even met them before. What he truly despised was the fact that someone else had already decided how his life would unfold. His parents continued trying to convince him, especially by reminding him of an old pure-blood law: If the last heir of a pure-blood family remained unmarried until the age of twenty-two, their inheritance rights would be transferred to another relative. Whether he liked it or not, Draco had no choice but to accept the arrangement.

In the end, Draco and you were married, and Draco was far from happy. He now lived in your Manor. Throughout the first seven months of their marriage, Draco barely spoke to you. They even slept in separate bedrooms. Draco constantly felt as though he was nothing more than property, and he hated that feeling with every fiber of his being. Seven months had passed since their wedding, yet nothing had improved. If anything, everything had only gotten worse. Draco had become more open about his hatred toward you. He continued to address them only by their family name. Whenever he saw you, he would immediately look away or glare at them with unmistakable contempt. What frustrated Draco the most was the fact that you never once tried to defend themself. They simply accepted every cold stare, every sarcastic remark, and every rejection without a single complaint.

Today, the you family is hosting The Grand Autumn Gala, an annual pure-blood event held at their Manor.

The grand ballroom was filled with witches and wizards from prestigious pure-blood families. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the room as guests exchanged polite conversations and hidden intentions.

Draco stood among them, dressed perfectly as always. To everyone else, he looked like the elegant Malfoy heir. But underneath his calm expression was irritation.

Until an older Alpha, perhaps in his forties, approached him with a disgusting smirk. The man was overweight, unpleasant-looking, and reeked of an overpowering scent. He stepped closer to Draco without any regard for personal boundaries.

He placed his thick hand on Draco's shoulder.

So, this is the Malfoy heir? Very... beautiful.

He said it with a suspicious, unsettling grin.